Municipal Blondes
26
Crossing the Delaware
WASHINGTON CROSSED THE DELAWARE, we’re told, on Christmas Eve, 1776. Maybe the next day, I don’t remember. My Christmas Eve will be spent crossing the Adriatic Sea. Washington’s rowboats had a mile to traverse. I have about 100 miles. At least I have a motor.
Help arrives
It was supposed to be a simple ruse. Anyone watching the house would think Simon left the country. I’d be dressed like him and catch the ferry to Split and a plane to Rome as Simon. Somewhere en route, I’d change from Simon to Deb and catch a flight from Rome home. Anyone watching would be following me long enough that Simon and Angel could sneak out and start over anyplace they wanted to. End of case. I wash my hands.
But when I got downstairs last night, Angel had her bags packed and ready to go with me. The two of them convinced me it would be more believable if Angel and Simon escaped together. They’re a recognizable pair with the statuesque blonde Angel towering over the short dark Simon.
We planned to leave in the middle of the night and instead of taking the ferry, take their boat up the inland passage to Rijeka and drive to Zagreb from there. Along the way, I’d lose the disguise and two blondes would grab a car to Zagreb and a plane home. While we were luring away our pursuers, Simon would disappear south to Greece and lay low a couple of months. As soon as things were safe, he’d call for Angel to join him.
“Well, I’ll be go-to-hell,” I said mimicking Simon’s favorite oath. Both Angel and Simon snapped a startled look at me.
“You sound more like Simon than Simon does,” Angel said. “This could be a fun trip.”
Simon growled a little about having too much fin. It was still a risky endeavor. The toughest part would be getting from the house down to the dock. Once we were in the boat, it would take someone with a boat to catch up to us. The ferries didn’t run at night. We’d be long gone by morning. We haggled back and forth for a good hour before everyone was agreed on a plan that would get us all away from the immediate danger of Geoff Gilliam and crew.
The goodbye kiss between Angel and Simon made my stomach ache.
It was close to two in the morning when Angel and I carried our one suitcase each out of the house, looking in all directions and heading down to the wharf. Simon gave me an overcoat to wear as well, even though he knew I’d be ditching the suit and coat before we debarked.
I handed my suitcase to Angel and she started the big diesel engines while I tossed the lines onto the boat and jumped aboard. I was relieved to see it was a 30' Four Winds 288 Vista Cruiser and not a rowboat. It was a luxury yacht made to accommodate two people for fast trips to Greece, Italy, or any other port on the Mediterranean.
Angel didn’t hear me hit the deck over the sound of the engines. I was shoved and fell next to the suitcases. I rolled to my knees facing a gun.
“Hello, Simon,” Ray growled. “Going somewhere?” At that moment, Angel looked back and screamed. I thought Ray was going to shoot her. “Both of you! Get down below and shut up.”
“There’s no need to be so nasty, Ray,” I said. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Right,” he said. “I’ll take the boat from here. Just get below and don’t either of you stick your head out before I tell you. There’s no reason for a lot of people to get hurt.”
Pretty gruff if you ask me. The Ray Hawkins I’d met on Ambergris Caye seemed more easy going. I wondered if Geoff was making things difficult. Or maybe he was pissed because I gave him the slip in Mexico City at the airport. Well, if he was working for Jordan, that would explain why he’d been following me. Good old Jordan, still looking out for me.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” I said beneath my breath, ushering Angel below deck with our suitcases. “It’s okay, Angel. Jordan said I’d recognize the guy he sent to help. It’s a relief.”
Ray closed the door when we’d entered the forward cabin. There was shouting from the dock and I heard angry voices and running feet. Ray gunned the engines and the boat lurched from the pier with G-force acceleration. Angel and I fell onto the bed together and clutched each other out of fright. We stayed that way for several minutes, trying to listen for sounds of pursuit but hearing nothing but the slap of the waves and rumble of the engines as we sped across the channel separating us from Split.
“Geoff must have been close,” I whispered as we finally sat up and separated. “Thank God Ray got here when he did.”
The devil and the deep blue
It seemed like we’d been down there forever.
“How long is the crossing from Brac to Split?” I asked Angel.
“Less than an hour. Maybe he’s using the same plan we came up with and going up to Rijeka.”
“I’m glad someone is piloting the boat who knows how to handle it.”
“I know how,” Angel said. “Simon and I have had this boat for two years. I can handle it just fine.”
“Well, let’s find out where we are,” I said, opening my computer. It’s a great thing to have a GPS receiver in a laptop. Dag was smart about that.” I waited for the map to resolve and an indicator that the GPS had acquired a signal. When it did, I stood up, hit my head on the low ceiling, and fell back into the bed.
“This isn’t right,” I said. “We’re not headed up the coast.” I pointed to the screen. We’d come through the narrow straight between Brac and Solta islands and were headed southeast—out to sea.
I tried to open the door, only to discover it was locked from outside.
“Hey! Ray!” I yelled. “Where do you think we’re going?”
“Keep your head inside or I’ll blow it off!” he yelled back. WTF??? I sat with Angel and we watched the blip on the map that showed us headed out into the Adriatic see. We were definitely headed for the Mediterranean if he continued this direction. I grabbed my cellphone and tried to call Jordan but we were already too far out to get a signal. Next time I go chasing around the world, I’ll get a Sat phone. It was time for two girls to start looking for ways to defend ourselves.
Angel knew everything stored on the boat and had harpoons and scuba gear on the bed in no time. I couldn’t see what the point was with the scuba gear. I wasn’t going diving. The harpoon definitely held possibilities, though. The only problem was it was so long that by the time I could get it positioned to use, Ray could easily blow me away. I was always better at defensive maneuvers than at figuring out how to attack someone. I stowed a knife in my belt and decided that would be the extent of my weaponry.
I checked the GPS and saw we were passing the Island of Vis but there was still no signal on my phone. Well, we were as prepared as we could be. Angel and I lay cuddled together on the bed waiting. I guess we dozed off because I came suddenly awake and alert to the silence of the powerful twin engines. I glanced at the GPS again and saw we were halfway to Italy. The map showed nothing but blue.
The water was rough and the waves were slapping against the side of the boat. We could hear Ray scraping things around above deck. Then he yelled at us.
“I’m opening the door! Stand back.” The door jiggled and opened just wide enough for Ray to see we weren’t waiting to jump him. “Get out here, Simon,” he yelled, backing up with the gun still trained on the stairs. I stepped out and saw Angel glancing toward the harpoon on the bed. There was no way she could get to it with him pointing a gun at us.
“Close and lock the door then get up here on deck.” I looked at the lock on the door as I pulled it closed. Angel ran forward and held the door just before it latched.
“You’re making a big mistake, Ray,” I said as I emerged from the hold. “Jordan said you’d help me.”
“I don’t know a Jordan,” Ray said. “The orders from your loving wife are to make sure when you’re lost at sea this time, you stay lost.”
I looked at Ray. How could I have been so wrong about him? He wasn’t sent by Jordan to help me. He was the assassin sent by Brenda to finish off Simon. How could I have been so stupid?
“Come on, move. Over there.” He waved his gun toward the stern. I moved back. At least that would put his back to the door of the cabin. If Angel could sneak out, maybe she could surprise him. “Now jump,” he commanded.
“No,” I said. “You’re making a mistake Ray. I’m not Simon. I’m Deb Riley. You helped me escape from Belize.”
“Nice try, Simon. We figured she was working with you before we ever set her up at the party. We figured she’d lead us right to you. She gave me the slip in Mexico City, but that’s when I figured out Riley Finn and Deb Riley were the same person. The beauty is, she thinks I’m the good guy and I can use her when I get back stateside.”
“I’m Deb,” I said. He was already raising his gun. The SOB was going to shoot me!
“Jump or we do it the old-fashioned way.”
“No.” I could see his hand tightening on the gun and knew that was the last thing I was ever going to see. A wave hit the boat and it lurched to the side. I lost my footing. I grabbed the rail and fell to the deck. I saw Ray stumble toward me, the gun still pointed my direction. Then, as if in slow motion, he kept stumbling forward and over the end rail of the boat into the choppy water. A harpoon was stuck through his back.
Angel was standing in the doorway of the cabin staring out at the sea.
“Angel,” I said.
“Sorry it too so long,” she responded. “I had to be sure he wasn’t watching the door.”
“I’m so sorry, Angel.”
“He was trying to kill Simon. I couldn’t let that happen,” she said. “I’ve already lost him too many times.”
I went to her and hugged her tightly. She turned back to the wheelhouse.
“Get your GPS while I get the engines started,” she said. “We need to plot a course that gets us home.”
We used the computer GPS to get a broader look at where we were while Angel used the boat’s GPS to plot a course. We chose Pescara, Italy as the closest friendly port.
“We’ve been there before. They have a beautiful little marina,” she said. It was midmorning when we docked and Angel made arrangements to leave the boat for a month. She expects to be back soon. I looked back at the boat as we were leaving and realized anyone could have been waiting for us on Brac. The back of the boat was emblazoned in bright letters, “Angel.”
We caught a train at the Stazione Centrale di Pescara and headed north. Once we got into a private cabin, I stripped and changed out of my Simon Barnett clothes. I decided I was going to stay Deb Riley for a while.
I should get in touch with Jordan but I need to pick up an Italian SIM for my phone. I’m wiped out. I’ll do it at the next stop, after I sleep for a while. Angel’s making flight arrangements to get us home. It’s been an exhausting Christmas Eve.
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