Bloody Point (29 page)

• • •

 “Are you Special Agent Campbell?” the Coast Guardsman yelled
as Craig stepped on board the pitching vessel at City Dock in Annapolis.

“Yes, sir. I am,” Campbell responded. “Let’s get going.”

†

Bloody Point

Chapter 29

J
AKE heard a noise in
the starboard pontoon. He flattened himself just outside the salon, next to the
door. Maxwell was taking a long time. What was he doing? Jake peeked around the
corner, saw the muzzle of the shotgun, and he fired, squeezing the trigger of the
Glock over and over, until the magazine was empty. He fumbled for his spare.

Maxwell raced up the stairs, rounded the corner and emerged
into the cockpit before Jake could reload. He started to shoot, then looked
puzzled and in an instant Jake realized the shotgun had misfired. Maxwell
pulled the trigger again and again. It clicked impotently. Jake threw himself
at Maxwell, slamming him against the edge of the door.

The two men fell out into the cockpit, Jake’s spare magazine
falling to the deck. Jake went straight for Maxwell’s throat, his thumb
searching for a pressure point, but Maxwell jerked away and rolled out from
under him. One-handed, Jake was unable to hold him.

Maxwell stood up and kicked Jake in the jaw, sending a
searing pain through him. Jake jumped up, and charged Maxwell again. He thought
he heard a loud horn, like the tanker’s horn, as he tackled Maxwell. Jake saw
his head hit the cockpit seat, hard, but Maxwell continued to fight.

The horn again. Five short blasts. Jake punched Maxwell in
his nose and blood gushed out. Maxwell put his hands on Jake’s throat, and
began to choke him.

Jake tried to pull away but he couldn’t. He heard the horn
continuing to sound. He tried hitting Maxwell again, tried shoving his nose up
into his brain, but he couldn’t get the angle, so he started working his thumb
toward Maxwell’s right eye. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, the horn blew
again. Maxwell gripped him tighter.

And the edges of Jake’s vision began to go dark.

• • •

The tugboat captain stared into the night, straining to see
the catamaran, which had continued on its collision course despite his warning
blasts. Had the skipper had a heart attack? Gone overboard?

“What’s he doing, Cap’n?” the tugboat crewman asked.

“I don’t know. Not giving way, that’s for sure.” They were
hauling a train of three barges, loaded with sand, and it was hard enough to
control them in the weather without having to avoid some fancy-pants catamaran
skipper who ought to be sipping white wine in some bar rather than risking his
boat on a night like this. If the guy was still alive, that is.

“He doesn’t even have his main secured.” The crewman trained
his binoculars on the struggling cat. “What are you going to do?”

“Where’s he gonna hit?”

“Behind the tug, sir. Between us and the first barge.”

“Keep on the horn, and hold on. The cable will take his
mast.”

• • •

 “Is that it? Is that what you’re looking for?” The Coast
Guard captain pointed toward a boat bobbing in the waves, barely visible during
flashes of lightning.

“Could be,” Craig shouted above the storm.

Then in the distance they heard a horn. The sound was being
whipped away by the wind, but it was definitely a horn, sounding short blasts.
The captain trained his binoculars forward to the starboard side. “Something’s
out there,” he said, “but I can’t quite see what.”

“Cap’n,” the mate said, “we’re getting a Mayday just up
ahead. Tug says a cat’s headed for a collision.”

“Let’s go!”

• • •

Jake brought his knee up, hard, into Maxwell’s midsection. He
heard the horn again. The bow of the cat lifted and he and Maxwell slid aft.
Then there was a screeching, tearing, groaning sound coming from the very frame
of the catamaran itself. Maxwell stopped. He loosened his grip on Jake. He
looked over his shoulder. And as he did, the tow cable of the barge brought the
mast crashing down to the deck.

It missed them by inches and filled the cockpit with line and
shredded sail, entangling Maxwell. Jake scrambled from beneath him, grabbed the
Glock pistol, shoved in the new magazine and, as Richard Maxwell stood up, he
pumped six bullets into his chest.

Maxwell looked shocked. He put his hand on his chest, then
took it away, looked at the blood, and looked at Jake. He staggered back, his
face contorted with anger, and then he fell, backwards, over the aft rail, and
disappeared.

Jake raced to the rail and in a flash of lightning saw
Maxwell sinking beneath the black waters of the Chesapeake Bay, his eyes wide with
shock, his mouth open.

“Jake? Jake?” Cassie called.

He turned to her. His face was bloody, his mouth swollen and
he was shaking with adrenaline. “Cass!” He exclaimed. Then he heard a roaring
sound. He peered into the dark, saw the lights of the tug, looked the other
way, and in a flash of lightning saw the attached barge bearing down on the
cat, about to overrun it.

“No!” he yelled. Jake jumped toward the helm, climbing over
sail and line and the downed mast. Instinctively, he pushed both throttles full
forward, and turned the wheel hard left.

“Jake!” Cassie screamed as the leading edge of the barge
loomed over them.

Would they get clear? A loud crunch confirmed Jake’s worst
fears. The boat leaned over as the barge pressed the starboard pontoon under
water. “It’s going down,” Jake screamed. “Cass! We’ve got to jump!”

“What?”

“It’s sinking!” Jake grabbed Cassie’s arm and shoved her
forward away from the barge, climbing up the slanting pontoon. He grabbed the
horsecollar life ring, and pushed Cassie up and over the rail. “Jump!” he
yelled. He pushed her into the cold waters of the Bay and leaped in after her.

• • •

 “What was that?” Craig asked. “Thunder?”

“Look! It’s a flare.” The Coast Guard captain trained his
binoculars south, into the night. “Full throttle! Let’s go! Go!”

• • •

Jake and Cassie both went underwater, then surfaced. Cassie
sputtered and coughed. Handcuffed, she kicked her feet and struggled to keep
her head up. Jake grabbed her and pushed her toward the life ring. She reached
for it and clung to it desperately. “Hold on!” he screamed at her. He wrapped
his arm around her and began kicking away from the barge and the damaged
catamaran. He kicked and kicked until he thought his aching legs would just
break off.
Keep going, keep going, just hold on
, he told himself.

Waves sloshed them around and the rain pelted down. Twenty
yards from the boat, safely away from the barge, Jake had to stop. He was
exhausted.

Cassie’s teeth were chattering. Her eyes were wide. Jake
looked around. They were clear of the barge. How far were they from shore? How
far could he swim? His boots were weighing him down and he could feel the cold
in his bones. The water temperature wasn’t lethal, and he was a good swimmer.
Still, he had to fight three-foot waves while supporting Cassie and he wasn’t
sure how long he’d last.

The tug, whose horn Jake had heard when he was fighting
Maxwell, was sounding short blasts over and over. It fired a flare, then
another. He thought he could see it turning around, making a wide arc in the Bay.
But it was hard to tell. The tug was so slow and the high waves gave him only
momentary glimpses.

“Jake!” Cassie gasped. She grabbed for him, but he shoved her
hands away.

“Hold on to the ring. Hold on!” How long could he last?
Already he was gripped with fatigue. Blood still trickled from the wound on his
brow and he could taste it in his mouth. His legs were cramping. His right hand
was useless and the burn on his left arm hurt like crazy. Rain was still coming
down hard, splatting on the water around them and running down their faces. The
lightning was becoming less frequent, but the waves were still buffeting them.

Cassie was trembling. She was dressed only in shorts and a
tank top. Was she cold? In shock? Terrified? Or all three?

He had to get her to shore.
Oh, God
, he cried
silently.
I need help! Now!

Yet another wave rose into the night and crashed over their
heads, and the two resurfaced, choking and coughing. Cassie lost her grip on
the ring. She started to slip under. Fear seized Jake and he grabbed her and
pulled her up again.

“Oh, God!” he cried. “Help us!” He couldn’t hold on much
longer, and Cassie wouldn’t make it on her own.

• • •

The mate on the Coast Guard boat was in radio contact with
the captain of the tug. “He said there’s two, maybe three in the water, sir,”
he yelled, “and the catamaran’s taking on water.”

“Tell him to stay in the area,” the Coast Guard captain
responded.

“He’s shining a searchlight in the direction of the people,
sir.”

“Good! Let’s get there!”

• • •

Jake saw a bright light, and then, in the distance, another
one, bouncing on the waves, but growing larger by the minute. “Hey!” he yelled.
Then he could hear the high whine of another engine, a smaller one than the
tug. Lightning flashed. He saw a boat headed for the catamaran. The cat was
listing badly, rolled over with just one pontoon still on the surface, its
broken mast flat on the water. A powerful light began sweeping the waves,
edging closer and closer to Jake and Cassie.

“Oh, God, please, please,” he gasped. Cassie’s eyes were
closed and her head was falling back. “Oh, God … ”

And then, the light fell on them. Jake yelled and threw his
hand up in the air. The light stopped its sweep. Hope flared in Jake’s heart.
“Hey! Over here!”

Rising and dipping, the boat plowed through the waves. It was
headed their way. Jake gripped Cassie. “Hold on, Cass! They’re coming! Hold
on.”

As the boat drew near, someone on board threw a life ring
out, and then he saw swimmers hit the waves. “Take her!” Jake shouted as they
drew close. He let go of the life ring and pushed Cassie toward the men.
Cassie, scrambling for survival, put a foot on Jake and shoved off of him.

As she kicked, Jake went down. When he surfaced a wave hit
him, smacking him in the face. Gasping, he swallowed saltwater. He began
floundering. Then both legs cramped, and the sharp pain crippled him. He
thrashed around and felt himself going down again. The water closed over his
head. His chest was tight. He opened his eyes wide and stared into the
blackness. He was disoriented. Where was the surface? He needed air, and needed
it now.

This is it. I’m going to die
, Jake thought. Then a
hand grabbed his collar, and he felt himself being pulled up. His head cleared
the surface and his mouth ripped open as he desperately gulped air. Seconds
later, he was lying on the floor of the cutter, vomiting saltwater. And for the
first time ever in his life, he was thrilled to be on a boat.

†

Bloody Point

Chapter 30

T
HE bright sunshine
seemed overdone, as if nature were doing penance for last night’s storm. Cassie
sat on her hospital bed, a glass of ice water on the small table next to her.
Her father stood next to the window, Aunt Trudy was seated in a chair. Jake was
slouched in a second chair, two butterfly bandages on his brow. He was wearing
khaki shorts and a blue golf shirt, and his gun was in a pouch on his side.
Cassie suspected he wouldn’t be far from that for a while.

The last twelve hours were a blur. After being plucked from
the Bay, she and Jake had been rushed to the hospital. She’d had x-rays and a
brain scan, and received treatment for exposure and exhaustion. An IV to
replace fluids had been her companion all night. Now she was waiting to be
released. Just a concussion, the doctor had said, ordering her to rest for a
few days. And she was happy to comply, more than happy.

Jake was telling a story, and Cassie turned her eyes toward
him. He was sitting up, and was gesturing with his hands, a grin on his face as
he spoke. He was so animated, so full of gusto. Images from the preceding night
came into her head and she shivered involuntarily. If it hadn’t been for him …

The hospital-room door opened. Craig Campbell walked in,
dressed in his navy suit and white shirt.
It’s Saturday
, she thought.
Doesn’t
he know its Saturday?
But then she realized he’d probably been at the
office already this morning, writing out a report, filling out forms,
accounting for the business last night on the Bay. Lines of fatigue creased his
eyes. “Good morning,” he said. “How are you all today?”

“Happy to be alive,” Jake said. “Literally.” He stood up and
shook Campbell’s hand and gave him a slap on the back. “Thanks, man, for coming
out for us last night. If it hadn’t been for you … ”

“I had nothing else to do,” Craig replied, grinning. “My boss
hates me. My family doesn’t recognize me any more. So, I decided, there’s
nothing like a spin on the Chesapeake Bay for a relaxing evening.” He shook
hands with the others and gave Cassie a hug. “You know, you two are a sure-cure
for boredom.” He leaned against a wall.

“Let’s get you a chair,” Jim said, crossing to the other side
of the room where the bed was empty.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Campbell took a seat in the chair Jim
dragged over. “How’s the head, Cassie?”

“I have a slight concussion. Slight.”

“Which only proves her head is harder than mine,” Jake added,
“something I’ve been saying for a long time.” He grinned at his partner, then
turned back to Craig. “So what all went on last night?”

“We saw quite a bit of action, on a couple of fronts.”

“Tell us,” Jake said.

“About the time I got the call from Trudy about Cassie, I was
at the home of Seth Hawkins, an engineer who was the subject of an extortion
attempt by Maxwell. Maxwell burned his boat, and then threatened to kill
Hawkins’s family if he didn’t produce the guidance device that Maxwell wanted
to sell. Apparently, the same one Schneider failed to deliver.

“I knew Hawkins might be headed toward Bloody Point Light.
When I got the call from Trudy, I raced back to Annapolis, caught a ride with
the cutter, and that’s how we found you.”

“What happened to Hawkins?”

“He borrowed a boat from a friend, and was headed out to meet
Maxwell. Halfway there, the second cutter found him. He’s still being
interrogated.”

Jake shook his head.

“Hawkins had no insurance on the
Lady J.
He’d
forgotten to renew it. So Maxwell had him over a barrel. His wife, who was none
too happy that he’d bought the boat to begin with, was really upset at having
to make payments on a non-existent craft.”

“So he thought he’d just get the device for Maxwell, take the
payment, and get out of his financial hole.”

“And protect his family at the same time.”

“And Tyson Farnsworth? How did he link in?”

“He was the courier. He was supposed to take the rest of
Schneider’s money to him, and pick up the tracking device. But he lost his
temper when he got into an accident, and then Mike intervened.”

“And Maxwell was angry enough to go after Mike.”

“Right.” Craig opened his mouth, as if to say more, but then
he must have thought better of it.

Meanwhile Cassie was strangely quiet. She was focused on the
floor. Suddenly, she sat up straight. “You know what, Jake?”

“What?”

“You shot him with your right hand.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Maxwell. When you shot him that last time, you shot him with
your right hand.”

Jake stared at her. He looked down at his hand, and he tried
to clench his fist. He still could not. “What?” he said to her again.

Cassie’s face was intense. Everything seemed so clear now.
She could see it in her mind like a movie. “No, really, listen. Jake, you were
in the cockpit. You scrambled out from under Maxwell when the mast came down,
then you grabbed your gun, jammed in the magazine, rolled, and shot him. Jake,
you shot him with your right hand. I saw you.” She looked at the others. “Don’t
look at me like I’m crazy!”

“No, we’re not,” they demurred.

Craig held out his hand. “Grab it,” he said, but Jake
couldn’t. Jake frowned. Craig cocked his head. “Adrenaline, maybe?”

Before Jake had time to answer the doctor came in. The three
men excused themselves and filed out of the room. Jim left to get a cup of
coffee, and Craig and Jake walked down the hall.

“The Coast Guard went back after what was left of Maxwell’s
catamaran,” Craig said. “They were going to tow it in to Baltimore. Danny was
with them. Fortunately, they decided to check it out first. Good thing they
checked. In the port-side pontoon, in the forward cabin behind boxes and boxes
of food that Maxwell had packed, they found some explosives, ammo, all kinds of
stuff.”

“He wasn’t coming back. He was just going to take off,” Jake
said, and the thought of what could have happened to Cassie made him shiver.

Campbell put his hand on his shoulder. “You okay, bud?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’m okay.” He
smiled softly. “One more bad guy.”

“It’s never-ending. It’s like picking up garbage. There’s
always more the next day,” Craig grinned.

The doctor said she could go home and Cassie started to get
dressed but then sat down again, tears spilling from her eyes. Her aunt quickly
sat down on the bed next to her and put her arm around her. “Are you okay,
honey?”

“Oh, Aunt Trudy, last night when we were in the water … I got
so scared … ”

“Well of course, honey.”

“No, no … ” Cassie shook her head. Her aunt handed her a
tissue and Cassie blew her nose. “We were in the water and the waves kept
hitting us. I couldn’t catch my breath, and I couldn’t swim. My head hurt so
much and I couldn’t tell where I was, I just kept getting jostled and shoved
under water, and if it hadn’t been for Jake …”

“I know, honey.”

“It was so scary, like not being all the way awake, and so
you’re not sure where you are or what’s happening but you’re terrified and you can’t
get control.”

“Like in a dream.”

“Right. Like a really, really bad dream.” Cassie’s tears were
flowing freely now and a mound of tissues was beginning to grow in front of
her. “And Aunt Trudy, I was so scared I was going to die, and I knew I wasn’t ready
… I wasn’t ready … ” she couldn’t get the next words out.

“To see God?” Trudy prompted.

“Yes!” Cassie looked at her aunt, at those gray eyes, now
brimming with tears, and her kind, gentle face, her well-earned wrinkles and
her gray hair. “I wasn’t ready to face God. To go into Eternity. Or even to see
Mike again. I wasn’t … right.”

“Oh, honey! Let me give you a hug. We need to pray.”