The Water Keeper(98)

He tried to lick my face, but there was too much blood. I slid my arms beneath him and limped my way to the two-million-dollar racing boat.

I had to get to Ellie before he did.





Chapter 49


Summer and Angel leaned on each other down the sidewalk as Gunner and I painted our own path to the boat. The ten girls followed, huddling against one another. I set him on the deck below the back seat. The girls climbed in and began strapping on seat belts. Summer helped me loosen the lines, and I throttled away from the dock. Then she handed me the sat phone.

I circled west, then south, slowly routing through shallow water. When we reached four feet, enough to plane, I shot the throttle forward, rocketing us up and out of our lighthouse grave. Within seconds, we were traveling ninety-seven miles an hour. The boat is equipped with a key fob of sorts, which—when engaged—allows the captain to make use of all the power the motors possess. The fob dangled in front of me across a dash that looked more fighter jet than boat. I clicked the button, and the engines roared like an F-16. Given the glass-like conditions, we nearly took flight. When I looked down, I saw we were traveling at 122 mph.

The keys were slippery with blood as I dialed Bones. He answered with, “I’m sorry.”

I didn’t have time for him and me. “You see a plane flying east?”

“No, but your demon boat is traveling east at a hundred thirty-seven miles an hour.”

“That’s us.”

“What?”

“No time. Find the plane. It’s small. Like a bush plane.”

A pause while he checked the satellite. “Got it.”

“Tell me where it lands.”

Twenty minutes later, he called back. “He just landed.”

“Where?”

“The shoreline at your hotel.”

“Where’s the vet?”

“Where do you want him?”

“Sisters of Mercy.”

“He can be there in five.”

I hung up and charted a course for the south side of the island and Sisters of Mercy. Five minutes later, I beached the demon boat on the sand in front of Marie’s cottage. I grabbed Gunner, stumbled out of the boat, fell into the water, and hobbled our way up onto the beach. He wasn’t breathing.

I turned to Summer. “You sit with him?” Rewrapping the tourniquet around my leg, I limped my way up Marie’s back steps. I threw open the door and found Sister June spoon-feeding soup to Marie. When she saw me, her eyes grew wide and she began breathing fast and shallow, willing the oxygen to fill her lungs. I scanned the room. Ellie was nowhere to be found. I spoke through the pain as I stood there bleeding. “Where’s Ellie?”

“Went to get some pictures.”

“From where?”

“Your hotel.”

The words were registering in my brain when my phone dinged. A text. From Ellie. It read, “Midnight Ballet.”

I jumped off the back steps, rolled in the sand, stood, fell again, and climbed my way back to the demon boat. Summer sat cradling Gunner while Angel and the ten other girls huddled on the beach. Sirens and flashing lights told me Bones had brought the cavalry.

I couldn’t do anything more here and there would be time for conversation later. I climbed inside the boat, slammed the throttle into reverse, and dragged the fifty-foot boat off the beach while digging through the sand with the powerful propellers. Free of the beach, I turned east toward the resort. When I passed Sunset Point, I was traveling above a hundred miles an hour.

Seeing the resort, I turned ninety degrees right, aimed for the tail of the seaplane, and gunned it. The boat skimmed across the water and cut the plane in half, sending it spinning. With way too much speed, I glided up onto the beach, and the demon boat came to rest on dry ground in between the pool and the tiki hut where a guy stood singing cover tunes. I fell out of the boat and began limping to Ellie’s room amid the screams and angry hollers rising up out of the bar.

When I reached her and Summer’s room, the door was open. Handle busted. I walked in and found the room in disarray. Table upturned. Lamps broken. A trail of blood led in and out. In the corner I heard moaning. I clicked on the light.

Clay was on the floor behind the door. Blood pouring off his face. He shook his head. “He got her.”

“Which way they go?”

He pointed toward the boardwalk and Sunset Point. Once there, he could skirt around the crowds, get to his apartment, his Porsche, and he’d be gone. I started running.

Or hobbling.

I rounded the corner where a crowd had gathered to gawk at my boat-driving skills. The pool had emptied. As had the bar. Fifty people stood staring and holding drinks with umbrellas sticking out the top. The seaplane listed in the water, looking scalped without its tail wing. I circled around the crowd and ran along the waterside in the dark. Streetlamps lit what would otherwise be a romantic stroll along the shore. I hobbled, feeling warmth drain down my leg. I’d bled a lot. I didn’t know how long I had left. Not long. I clutched my rib because every breath sent a knife through my lungs.

Ahead of me, I heard a commotion among the people on the boardwalk and heard a muffled cry. I screamed, “Ellie!”

A crash sounded. Followed by a woman yelling and another scream. This time it wasn’t so muffled. I willed my legs to move faster and screamed again. “Ellie! Ellie!”