Love, Lattes and Danger Page 6

  “Everyone knows you, Joel. How can you possibly slip in and out?”

  I put the slice of pie I was about to eat back in the box. Suddenly, I’m no longer hungry. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

  She studies me in a way that makes me squirm. Her gaze flits between my shadowed eyes and the long pink scar that runs from my shoulder to my elbow.

  “Have you called Piper yet? Does she know?”

  My queasy stomach tightens. “No.”

  She tucks her hands into her armpits and flaps her arms. “Bwauk. Bwauk. Bwauk.”

  “I will. Now let’s go.” I push to my feet. Fatigue overwhelms me. My arm is throbbing, but I’m determined to ignore it.

  “How about we catch a couple of Z’s and leave at dawn?”

  “Amy…”

  “Please, bro, I’m exhausted.”

  I’m pretty sure I’m being played, but on the off chance I’m not, I cave. “Crack of dawn, we’re out of here.”

  “You got it.” She gets up and heads to bed. I’ve been played. Amy cares too much for anyone in need to let a little sleep stand between her and rescuing her niece. It’s probably just as well. I’ll think more clearly after a few hours of sleep. Not even bothering to go to bed, I stretch out and crash.

  I swear I’ve barely closed my eyes when the phone rings. The lights are still on but the light gray tones of predawn are streaming through the blinds.

  “Eisler here.”

  “Sorry, kid, your recoup is over, we’re testing the water outside of Seattle to see where a good location to drill would be after the ban is lifted.”

  “Seattle?”

  “Yeah. You and Amy be ready to go. We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

  “When did you get back?”

  “Five minutes before I got the call.” Leif clicks off. I knock on Amy’s door, frustration rolling through my system. It’s just one damn thing after another. “Amy, we’re heading for Seattle, leaving in ten.”

  She stumbles to the door. She looks mortified. “I’m so sorry, Joel. We should have left when you said to.”

  “Never mind. I know why you did it.” My tension notches down. “It’s actually closer to California. Get dressed. We’ll make an opportunity. Now we better hustle.”

  We grab our bags and head downstairs, where we hook up with Leif and head for the airport. There’s no opportunity to make plans for an escape. We’re going to have to play this one by ear.

  On the flight in, I ask Leif, “So what’s the story.”

  “Maybe nothing. We have a tanker in the water and we want to check various locations. And who better to find a good place to drill then you two?”

  Interesting. I’ve never looked for a place to drill before. Hopefully, this will work out. I have everything I need to get out of here in a waterproof plastic bag in my pocket—the two jammer watches, a little bit of money, Leif’s credit card, Davis’s credit card and the number of Mr. Moss’s credit card. “Do you want your credit card back?”

  “No, hold onto it, you may need it.”

  Discomfort tightens my chest. “Okay.”

  “So why’d we take the plane instead of the chopper?” Amy asks.

  “Hopefully, it’ll get us in and out a little quicker.”

  “How many planes does Ziccon have?”

  “Several.” Leif laughs.

  We chat back and forth the rest of the trip. I try to relax but I’m too keyed up. I have to figure out a way off the tanker and to California, but I don’t want Amy anywhere near the lab when I go after the baby.

  It’s not long before the plane touches down.

  As we get off, Leif strides ahead to talk to the rig manager. I see a couple of men watching us and the hair on the back of my neck rises. Amy sees them too. She pushes closer to me. “Do you think they’re Craven’s men?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. We’re going to have to keep an eye on those two. There’ve just been too many damn accidents.”

  She shivers. “I agree. But how can he have men on board when he’s been fired?”

  I don’t want to scare her, but I want her to be alert. Fear and awareness is a fine line to walk. I’d hate for her to spend her life being overly cautious or frightened all the time. “I believe Stranger and Craven are in cahoots. Stranger has money. Craven has the contacts. He’d know which men could be bought.” I throw an arm around her and give her a quick one-sided hug. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing he can throw at us that we can’t handle.”

  “Yeah.” She nods and forces a smile. “Do you think we should tell Leif?”

  “Tell him what? That two men are staring at us? Let’s just get this over with.”

  We go immediately into the water. Neither one of us takes the time to look for sea life or play. Amy at my heels, I go directly to the bottom. About a mile from the tanker, I see oil swirling around the bottom in a dark cloud. Several small fish lie dead on the sea floor. I swim alongside the cloud, tasting the water. I’m almost too close. My stomach is rolling from the oil entering my system.

  The taste is both sweeter and more sulfuric than processed oil. I take a small yellow flag that I’ve carried with me, plant it, and motion for us to go to the top. By the time I surface, my lungs are on fire. Amy’s gasping for air. “I’m sorry, Ames. I pushed it.”

  “I’m fine,” she pants.

  Leif is waiting on deck. We tell him what we’ve found and where it’s located. Smiling broadly, he claps us on the shoulders. “Great job. I’ll call the copter and have you taken back to Houston. Maybe this time you can actually get some rest.”

  I nod.

  Leif’s phone rings. “I’ll see you two later.” He takes the call and heads below.

  Whip-whip-whip. The helicopter is here.

  Amy and I start toward it. One of the two men I saw earlier intercepts me. “Mister, hey mister, just a minute.”

  Something about this guy is off. I want Amy on the chopper and away from him. “Go ahead, Ames, I’ll catch up.”

  Amy nods and boards the chopper.

  “What can you tell me about the oil leak?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The oil leak. I’m wondering if I’ll need to do any clean up.”

  The nerves under my skin crawl. What’s going on? “There wasn’t a leak. I’ve got to go.” I turn back toward the chopper. It’s starting to lift. “Hey wait!”

  Overhead, coming through the clouds, is another chopper. Blood pounds in my head, my breathing grows harsh. Oh my God! The chopper Amy boarded isn’t ours. Craven! He looks out the front window of the departing chopper, smiles maniacally and gives me the finger. The stakes must be phenomenal for him to make such a bold move right under Leif’s nose.

  I shove the man that held me up out of my way and start running toward the helo. There’s too much ground to cover. I won’t make it.

  I stretch out my legs and pump. Then I shoot into the air. I can do this in water so much easier. I reach my fingers out as far as I can and touch the base of the helo. I’m going up, dangling, fingers slipping. “Come on, come on.” Grinding my teeth, I firm my grip and manage to get my arms around the bar. The wind is trying to rip me from the helicopter and out to sea.

  Muscles screaming, I pull myself up and wrap my legs around the landing skid on Amy’s side of the helicopter. The door slides forward easily when I push. For one split second, everyone stares as if paralyzed.

  “Jump!” I yell.

  She doesn’t hesitate, just catapults for the door. At the last moment, the guy behind Amy grabs her shirt, jerking her back and smashing her arm against the side of the helicopter. I catch his face with my fist, and his hand opens. Amy drops through the air. I let go and drop behind her.

  The evening air, thick and misty, helps buffer our fall. Splash. Amy lands seconds before I do. I put my hands around my chest and prepare to hit the water. With the speed and the distance, it’s going to feel like
hitting concrete. Moments later, my feet thump against the water, sending up a geyser of spray as I sink straight down. I was right. It hurts like a son of a bitch.

  I shoot to the surface, gasping for air. Amy has surfaced a few feet away. The searchlights from the chopper catch me. I dive back down. It’s time to stay under water for a while. Once again, I long for Piper’s lung capacity. I’m also wishing for Amy’s keen eyesight under water. I head in the general direction I last saw her.

  Something grabs my ankle. My bladder nearly loosens. I swing around and come face to face with Amy. She points at her inside left arm.

  “Tracker.” The bubbles pour from my mouth.

  She nods.

  I point to her left wrist before carefully taking out the jammer watch, twisting the button, and handing it to her. I think she has it and let go. It slips from our hands and down into the water.

  “Shit.” Panicked, I dive straight after it. The dial gleams in the water as it drops. I push downward as fast as I can. Without the watch, we are so screwed.

  Farther. Deeper. I send pleas to every sea god or goddess I’ve ever heard of. The water grows colder, murkier. Still I follow the dull gleam as it makes its way downward through the gray liquid.

  Amy is right beside me, sometimes she pulls ahead, sometimes I do, but the watch continues to fall. I need help. I whistle again and again.

  Suddenly, a gray shadow glides by me. I see a fin then a fluke. It shoots down like a bullet and intercepts the watch’s fall. Gently, the dolphin floats upward, the watch balanced on its snout. When it reaches us, it hovers motionless.

  Amy carefully takes the watch but her hand is trembling so badly she can’t put it on. I take it and shove it on her left arm before putting on mine. She pats the dolphin and I whistle my thanks. It whistles back.

  Amy’s holding her arm, kicking with her feet. She’s hurt!

  I put my face next to hers, raise my eyebrows, and tilt my head. What is it? She shakes her head and points to the surface. I put my arm around her and kick upward. The dolphin swims on her other side. We float to the surface and take air deep into our lungs.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Amy, what’s wrong? Is it your arm? I saw you bounce against the side of the chopper.”

  We hear the whip of the blades as the helicopter makes another pass. We submerge again. Even underwater, I can hear the engine’s whine and see the light on the water.

  Whenever the light veers off, we go up for air, the dolphin more regularly. I ask again “Is it your arm? Is it broken?”

  She pushes the streaming water out of her face. “Yeah, it’s my arm, but it’s not broken.”

  I reach out and feel it. Nothing is protruding but she could have cracked something.

  She winces and moves away. “It’s just throbbing a bit.”

  I touch her cheek. “You’re a brave girl.”

  “No, you are. You’re the one who jumped onto a flying chopper.”

  “I take exception to being called a girl.” As I hope, she smiles.

  Up ahead, the spotlight bounces off the waves in a huge arc.

  Then there’s another arc, more whirring. A second chopper takes off after the first.

  I point. “Ziccon’s chopper is chasing Craven. This is it, Amy. Let’s make a break for it.”

  Chapter 10

  “I hate to ask, Amy, but swim hard. We have to put as much distance between us and the tanker as we can.” I stretch out my arms and kick.

  “Of course.” Instead of her healthy olive complexion, her skin is sallow. The dolphin stays next to her. She holds onto his fin with her good arm and they shoot through the water.

  Night gradually falls and we continue. Using my dolphin instincts, I head for land. We are still swimming fast and hard when the whine of a powerboat reaches us, growing in intensity.

  “Who do you think it is?” Amy asks uneasily.

  “With Stranger, Craven and no doubt Leif are looking for us, we have several options,” I joke.

  Amy doesn’t smile. “How could they find us while we’re wearing the watches?”

  “Considering the amount of money these people have, someone probably has some sophisticated sonar. But that’s a guess on my part. There’s one way to find out if whoever is out there is after us.”

  “What are you going to do?” There’s a thread of panic in Amy’s voice.

  “Draw them out.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to keep swimming for shore.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  I know she means it. I also know there’s only one way to get her to do what I want her to, what will keep her safe. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s about the baby. You have to get hold of Piper and let her know. We have to get that baby out of there. Keep heading east. You’ll make land. Stay underwater as much as possible. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

  Conflicting emotions flicker across her face. “You’re right.” She takes a deep breath and dives under, the dolphin at her side.

  The boat is coming nearer. I’d think it might be someone who has no interest in us, if it weren’t for the search light.

  I stay above water, poised to dive. The light gets nearer and nearer till it hits me in the face, blinding me. A ping sounds, and water spurts up next to me. Nope, not Leif. I dive under and watch through the water. Ping. Ping. Foamy eddies of liquid erupt all around.

  Then all is quiet. There’s a splash and two divers go over the side. Good. I wait till they see me then take off. I can match the pace of any dolphin if I push it. I pull ahead then circle back to the boat. The slap of the waves masks my movements as I slip on board. There’s one man on the opposite side watching the water. I run toward him, hit him with my shoulder, and knock him over. He hits with a splash and a shout.

  Hoping there’s no one else on board, I throttle up and speed off. The engine is powerful and glides through the water at incredible speed. Once I’m a few miles away, I idle it and do a complete search of the boat, but I’m sure if anyone else was on board they would have jumped me by now.

  I’ve got to find Amy. I idle the boat and whistle. When there is no response, I throttle up and drive for a bit before I stop and whistle again. I repeat the process again and again. Unease crawls across my skin. Where is she?

  I’m just getting ready to whistle again when the sharp clear whistle of a dolphin sounds.

  There they are. “Amy, here!”

  They swim toward me. I hold out a hand and pull Amy up. “Thanks,” I click to the dolphin.

  He bobs his head.

  “How did you get this boat?” Water runs off Amy in rivulets and puddles on the deck.

  “The owners had a strong desire to swim.”

  She grins. “So what’s the plan?”

  “We’ll head for land. You pick up some spray paint and see if we can’t change the color of the boat.” I blow out my breath. “I’ll call Piper on the burner.”

  She’s about to answer when chatter comes over the radio. “Brown, are you there? Come in, Brown. Over.”

  Amy’s eyes widen. She mouths to me, “Stranger?”

  My lips compressed, I nod.

  “What do we do?”

  I put a finger to my lip and pick up the microphone. This could get tricky.

  “Brown, where are you. Come in, Brown. Over.”

  If I can identify Stranger, he’ll be able to identify me. “I need white noise,” I mouth to Amy.

  She glances around wildly. A candy wrapper is on the deck. She grabs it and rubs it back and forth in front of the microphone.

  I roughen my voice. “Brown here.”

  “What’s that noise?”

  “Bad connection.”

  “Well, have you caught them? I don’t care about the boy, but I want the girl.”

  “We’ve caught sight of them. I was just about to go over the side when you ca
lled.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Stranger’s voice is hoarse with excitement.

  I click off and switch to a different frequency.

  “You’re a popular girl.”

  She grimaces. “Lucky me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve changed the channel. And we’ll change the looks of the boat. Hopefully, by the time Ziccon is off Stranger’s chopper’s tail, we’ll have our camouflage in place. By my calculations, if we continue northeast there’s a little bayside town we’ll hit late tomorrow morning or early noon. We’ll pull in there, grab something to eat and I’ll call Piper while you give the boat a makeover.”

  “Any color preference?”

  “No.” When her eyes light up, I add, “No pink or lavender.”

  “Killjoy. Want me to take the wheel?”

  “No, you get some sleep.”

  Exhausted, she doesn’t argue.

  The night passes without incident. By midmorning, I’m hungry enough to start gnawing on the side of the boat. Amy must be exhausted because she doesn’t make an appearance until nearly eleven.

  “How are you?” I ask.

  “I’m alright.” Her face lights up and she points. “Look. You were right.” Up ahead is a harbor town. I motor in to a docking station for gas.

  She reaches for the anchor, gasps, and clutches her arm.

  My muscles tighten. Is her injury worse than I realized? “How are you, Ames?”

  The grimace turns to an attempted smile. “Starving.”

  “Me, too. Let me call Piper; then we’ll grab something to eat.”

  Amy runs her fingers through her hair. “I need a comb.”

  “Let’s stop there.” I point at a nearby store geared to tourists.

  “That works.”

  “I better call Piper first.” Nerves and anticipation tighten my gut. The phone rings then goes into voice mail. “Piper, call me.” I leave my number but not my name. I can’t be too careful. Besides, she’ll recognize my voice, as I would hers.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  We go in the store and pick up an armful of necessities, which include a comb, tourist shirts, caps, pants, and tennies. I eye a row of scissors.

  Amy looks at them. Our gazes meet. “No. Really?” She pales