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Authors: Barbara Silkstone
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looking through the heat waves rising off a hot sand beach. How had I ended up in the middle of this strange game?
Chapter Fifteen
Still on the bridge, Dale stepped to the control console and checked out the brains of the ship, including the navigation equipment, autopilot, radar, gyrocompass, stabilizer, and communications gear with that damn jammer. If I could disconnect it, I could call for a taxi or better yet, Clark Kent. That is, if I had a cell phone… and if it worked out here… and if… to hell with it.
I tried not to look at the smear of blood where the captain had fallen. My stomach did flip-flops as one of the crewmen took a bucket of water and some evergreen-smelling cleaner to it, making it smell like Henry had been shot with a pine cone. I shuddered. “Let’s disappear.”
Roger and Kit followed me from the bridge through the ship.
The damage appeared to be mainly vandalism. Broken glass and slashed upholstery. The balls from the golf driving range floated in the swimming pool. In the salon, the Steinway Baby Grand player piano plinked Moon River over and over. Someone had rammed a chunk of broken mirror into its keyboard. The helicopter pad looked as if it had a seizure. The chopper’s tail boom was scratched, the Hook logo peeled off.
It was quieter on the port side of the yacht. I found a cushion, brushed off the grit, propped it, and settled back. Kit and Roger sat on either side of me.
“This has been… different,” Kit said. “We’ve been out to sea for six days and two deaths. How do we get off this battleship? I’ve got a career to get back to.” His bottle-blond hair glinted in the light of the sun.
“He’s not going to let us go. We know where he is and we know about the cloaking device,” Roger said.
“Can we radio the Coast Guard for help?” Kit asked.
I shook my head. “Remember, he’s got the communications jammer. He’s almost as proud of that as his cloaking device.”
Kit gave me a frustrated look. “If he’s got that cloaking thingie, how’d Croc find us?”
“Where money is involved, my ex can smell a penny at the bottom of the ocean. His talent for sniffing it out helped bring down Wall Street. His nostrils are as wide as hamster trails.”
“And he’s still crazy about you,” Roger said. “A real classy fan club, Croc and Hook.”
Ignoring his snide remark, I turned to Kit. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”
He hugged me. “I didn’t want you to take this mission-of-mercy on your own, but now I feel like Ginger stranded on Gilligan’s Island. If they replace me at the club it’ll take years to get my following back. By then I’ll be … well… older. Drag Queens have a short shelf-life unless you’re Dame Edna.”
The water surrounding us was vodka clear, reflecting the colorless sky. I felt like I was floating in a dream. A kaleidoscope of jade and sapphire seas appeared in the distance. We were getting into deeper waters. I was feeling trapped. An old expression settled in my mind, Being in a ship is being in a jail with the chance of being drowned.
Adrenalin kicked in. It was time to act. “Croc said Hook would kill me, but balls to the walls. Come on men. I want to know who killed Marni, and more importantly, I want to get off this damn boat.” I turned to Roger. “You’re an investigator. Investigate!”
When we got to the bridge, Hook shot the three of us a startled look as if he had forgotten we were on the ship. He was gobsmacked and resembled a wanted poster for the rape of Wall Street. Dale was at the helm. Jaxbee was nowhere in sight.
“We demand that you take us into port.”
He laughed. “This is my ship. We’re going where I want to go. And you’re going with me. Crocowski won’t reveal how to defeat my cloaking device to the feds as long as I have you.”
Treanna popped into my mind. She wouldn’t understand my being gone, and I was the only grownup she trusted. I had to get back. And then there was Kit…
Chapter Fifteen
Still on the bridge, Dale stepped to the control console and checked out the brains of the ship, including the navigation equipment, autopilot, radar, gyrocompass, stabilizer, and communications gear with that damn jammer. If I could disconnect it, I could call for a taxi or better yet, Clark Kent. That is, if I had a cell phone… and if it worked out here… and if… to hell with it.
I tried not to look at the smear of blood where the captain had fallen. My stomach did flip-flops as one of the crewmen took a bucket of water and some evergreen-smelling cleaner to it, making it smell like Henry had been shot with a pine cone. I shuddered. “Let’s disappear.”
Roger and Kit followed me from the bridge through the ship.
The damage appeared to be mainly vandalism. Broken glass and slashed upholstery. The balls from the golf driving range floated in the swimming pool. In the salon, the Steinway Baby Grand player piano plinked Moon River over and over. Someone had rammed a chunk of broken mirror into its keyboard. The helicopter pad looked as if it had a seizure. The chopper’s tail boom was scratched, the Hook logo peeled off.
It was quieter on the port side of the yacht. I found a cushion, brushed off the grit, propped it, and settled back. Kit and Roger sat on either side of me.
“This has been… different,” Kit said. “We’ve been out to sea for six days and two deaths. How do we get off this battleship? I’ve got a career to get back to.” His bottle-blond hair glinted in the light of the sun.
“He’s not going to let us go. We know where he is and we know about the cloaking device,” Roger said.
“Can we radio the Coast Guard for help?” Kit asked.
I shook my head. “Remember, he’s got the communications jammer. He’s almost as proud of that as his cloaking device.”
Kit gave me a frustrated look. “If he’s got that cloaking thingie, how’d Croc find us?”
“Where money is involved, my ex can smell a penny at the bottom of the ocean. His talent for sniffing it out helped bring down Wall Street. His nostrils are as wide as hamster trails.”
“And he’s still crazy about you,” Roger said. “A real classy fan club, Croc and Hook.”
Ignoring his snide remark, I turned to Kit. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”
He hugged me. “I didn’t want you to take this mission-of-mercy on your own, but now I feel like Ginger stranded on Gilligan’s Island. If they replace me at the club it’ll take years to get my following back. By then I’ll be … well… older. Drag Queens have a short shelf-life unless you’re Dame Edna.”
The water surrounding us was vodka clear, reflecting the colorless sky. I felt like I was floating in a dream. A kaleidoscope of jade and sapphire seas appeared in the distance. We were getting into deeper waters. I was feeling trapped. An old expression settled in my mind, Being in a ship is being in a jail with the chance of being drowned.
Adrenalin kicked in. It was time to act. “Croc said Hook would kill me, but balls to the walls. Come on men. I want to know who killed Marni, and more importantly, I want to get off this damn boat.” I turned to Roger. “You’re an investigator. Investigate!”
When we got to the bridge, Hook shot the three of us a startled look as if he had forgotten we were on the ship. He was gobsmacked and resembled a wanted poster for the rape of Wall Street. Dale was at the helm. Jaxbee was nowhere in sight.
“We demand that you take us into port.”
He laughed. “This is my ship. We’re going where I want to go. And you’re going with me. Crocowski won’t reveal how to defeat my cloaking device to the feds as long as I have you.”
Treanna popped into my mind. She wouldn’t understand my being gone, and I was the only grownup she trusted. I had to get back. And then there was Kit…
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