CL Hart -From A Distance (31 page)

"I can...that's why I chose her."

Cori looked to Kenzie. Her eyes were closed and her features relaxed. "What do you mean?"

"She wasn't raised in the States. This so-called Land of Opportunity has raised a generation of people who don't want to get involved. They don't see anything because they don't want to be a witness. For the most part, they don't want to help."

"I don't think that's true. When people are in need, it's human nature to want to help."

"In a crisis situation sure... Nine-eleven, Katrina, people were there...but..." Kenzie sighed. "In their day-to-day lives, people don't want to help. They don't want to get involved."

"I don't agree with you. I think people do want to help."

"They help with a checkbook, from far away...but most don't even know their neighbors' names and they don't care. Family gatherings are becoming...obsolete. There's no respect anymore, no responsibility." Kenzie's words were growing softer and short pauses were becoming longer. "In the industrial countries...it's about money. In most other places in the world...it's about family."

With her final words barely audible, Cori was certain Kenzie had fallen asleep, leaving her to mull over what she had said. She had not seen her family in years. Other than her mother, she had not seen any relatives since she was a child. There were no grandparents in her life, nor any uncles or aunts. She thought about her time in Seattle, and was chagrined to realize that Kenzie was right. Her neighbors were strangers. She knew most of her co-workers, at least their first names. It was when she had moved to Guadalajara that she spent time with the "strangers" in her building. She played with the kids in the courtyard, talked to people in the hallways and on the street. It had been a community. They had looked out for her and, without realizing, she had been looking out for them. Most of the people in her computer classes were closer friends then anyone else in her life.

The trolley jostled along the tracks, stopping at its designated stations without any further incidents or excitement. A mother with a small child on her lap sat across from them for a while. Cori smiled at them, but neither made eye contact with her. When the mother and child got off, no one took their place, leaving Cori alone with her thoughts. She was tired, and wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and go to sleep, but she couldn't. Her heart was still pounding and her legs and hands were still shaking. To her surprise, Kenzie was finally sleeping. Obviously, she was used to such circumstances while Cori was not.

The city of San Diego was now just outside their window. The trolley cut through the streets, passing people who were living their everyday lives. An orange glow was beginning to spread over the sky, reflecting off the ocean. Sunset was not far off. They stopped at the downtown station where a majority of the passengers disembarked.

Cori looked up at the map and realized they were almost at their destination. The next stop was Old Town and that was where Kenzie said they would be getting off. The sailboat that would be their safe haven was not far away now. She was looking forward to a bed, a chance to regroup, and some answers to the questions plaguing them. Then maybe she could relax just a little.

Cori leaned over and whispered into Kenzie's ear, "We're almost there." The exhausted woman showed no sign of waking or of having heard her. "Kenzie." Concerned, she placed a hand on Kenzie's forearm and gave it a gentle shake. "Kenzie, wake up. We're almost there."

A frown wrinkled into Kenzie's forehead and she squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. She stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders, and a small groan escaped her lips. Kenzie rubbed at her tired eyes and then turned to look out the window.

"Old Town is the next stop," Cori said. "That's where you said we would get off, right?"

Kenzie cleared her throat, but only nodded as she licked at her lips. Her throat felt dry and swollen, and it was hard for her to swallow.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah," she finally answered as she turned to smile at Cori. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay...I think."

The trolley began to slow and Kenzie reached into the bag on her lap and quietly checked to make sure there was a round in the chamber of her gun. "It's just a short taxi ride to the inner harbor where my boat is moored. I was hoping we would get there in the daylight, but the sun is about to set, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow to see
Helen's Gate
in her glory." She pulled the gun from the bag and slid it into her waistband.

Cori looked at Kenzie. It was easy to tell she was well beyond exhausted. "Do you think you'll need that?" she asked as Kenzie pulled her shirt over the butt of the gun.

"Who knows? At this point, nothing would surprise me, and I d rather err on the side of caution. Let's go."

The trolley was rolling to a stop and Cori rose with the rest of the passengers. Kenzie attempted to stand but her legs wobbled beneath her, causing her to reach out before she toppled. "Whoa, easy," Cori said as grabbed Kenzie's arm. Kenzie squeezed her eyes shut and gave her head a little shake "Sorry. Guess I got up a little too fast."

"I think it's more than that. You still have a fever. Big Polly's antibiotic was outdated and I don't think it's working." Cori took a firm hold of her arm and directed them both down the aisle of the trolley. "Once we get to your boat, I'm putting you to bed."

As they waited for the other passengers to step off the trolley, Kenzie leaned over and whispered into Cori's ear, "Is that an invitation?"

Cori scowled at her. Reaching for Kenzie's arm, she held it in a tight grip as they made their way off the trolley. The evening air was cool as the sun begun to slide into the ocean, leaving behind a sky of gold and pink.

"There." Kenzie motioned to the lineup of taxis on the far side of the station. No longer feeling the need for Cori's assistance, she pulled her arm out of her grasp. She regretted it immediately. She swayed unsteadily and almost missed the yellow painted curb marking the trolley tracks.

Cori steadied Kenzie with a firm grip on her elbow. "Let's get you into a cab."

Kenzie nodded reluctantly. She was not at the top of her game but she was still a professional, and as Cori directed them toward the first available taxi, Kenzie scanned their surroundings for whomever or whatever might be out there. It was so much a part of who she was - always looking, watching, and analyzing.

They climbed into the cab and Kenzie gave the driver the address of the marina. He attempted to strike up a conversation, but Cori only replied with one-word answers or not at all. The driver soon understood and turned his attention to his driving. Taking one of the many freeways criss-crossing San Diego, it didn't take them long to get to the building that was home to the University of San Diego's sailing team. The small building also served as the mooring office for Santa Clara Point and Sail Bay. Kenzie paid the cabbie and he disappeared into the night.

Cori looked around the shoreline of the bay, amazed at how tightly compacted the houses were. "They don't give you much space to breathe, do they?"

"For the price people pay down here for a little bungalow," Kenzie pointed out a small seaside shack that was no more than a few hundred square feet, "you could buy a ranch in Montana."

Cori shook her head in disbelief and then turned and looked at the assorted sailboats anchored off shore. "Which one is yours?"

"That one there," Kenzie said with quiet pride, pointing out a sleek, blue and white sailboat. "She's a twenty-eight foot Catalina Mark Two. Nineteen ninety-six Boat of the Year."

"How do we get to it?"

"We head over here to the mooring office and they'll run us out to her in a dinghy."

In the fading light of the evening, they walked slowly to the office. Kenzie didn't comment when Cori slid a hand into the crook of her arm. She did not want to know whether it was for Cori's benefit or her own.

"It's a nice boat, Kenzie."

"Thanks," she murmured as she opened the door to the office.

The office was bright, too bright for Kenzie's eyes as she followed Cori inside. A long counter separated the office from the waiting room, if one could call it that. There were two chairs, a small table covered with sailing magazines, and all the walls except one were cluttered with pictures of sailboats, old and new. The far wall was lined with trophies - big ones and small ones, some so new that their brass was still bright and shiny, and some so old that the engravings, long tarnished with time, were barely legible.

"Miss Etcher." A young man wearing an old tattered sailor's cap was seated behind the long counter. He jumped to his feet and his face offered a bright smile. "I knew you were coming in."

Kenzie's exhausted body sagged in disbelief at the news. "How did you know we were coming?"

"Because this arrived this afternoon." He held up a small, locked duffle bag. "I knew when this came in, you wouldn't be far behind it."

Big Polly.
Kenzie sighed in relief as she ran her fingers through her curly locks. With the events of the afternoon, she had almost forgotten that he was sending her a care package. She was almost too tired to think and her body ached with fever. All she wanted was to get on her boat.

"Thanks, Dennis." She reached for the heavy canvas bag. "This is my friend, Laura." Cori nodded and Dennis offered a smile "Can we get a lift out to the
Helen?"

"Most certainly, Miss Etcher. Let me get my keys."

He walked to the back wall as Cori leaned over and whispered into Kenzie's ear, "Miss Etcher?"

"Shhh," she warned. "Did you think I would moor my boat under rny real name? What would be the point of that?"

"I'm just wondering if Katherine Mackenzie is your real name."

"It is...for the most part."

Cori turned in question. "Meaning?"

Kenzie sighed. She was just too tired and sore to care. "Mackenzie is my middle name, my last name is LeGault."

LeGault.
The name rippled something in Cori's memory
LeGault.

"Okay, ready to go," Dennis said. The young man's sudden reappearance prevented Cori from questioning Kenzie further about her name.

They walked down the aluminum gangplank to a small eight-foot dinghy. Within minutes, Dennis was maneuvering the small craft in and out of the moored sailboats to bring them alongside of
Helen's Gate.

"Nice name," Cori said as she admired the scripted gold and blue lettering on the back of the boat.

"I named her after my grandmother."

"Here we go, ladies." Dennis grabbed hold of the rear railing.

"Thanks, Dennis," Kenzie said as she laid a hand on her beloved boat. Her arm felt heavy as she ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the hull. She could feel some of the tension leave her body when she finally stepped on board.

"Will you need a taxi pick up in the morning for breakfast?" he asked as he assisted Cori out of the dinghy.

Kenzie offered a hand to Cori and once she was safely on board, she reached back for the bag Dennis held out to her. "Actually, Dennis, I'll be pulling up anchor once I check everything out."

"You're leaving?" He was both surprised and disappointed. "But you're paid up 'til the end of the year."

"I'm leaving on business. You know how it is. I'll be back, though. Don't you worry."

"All right then. It was nice to meet you, Miss Laura. You have a safe trip, Miss Etcher," Dennis called as he powered his dinghy back toward the dock.

Kenzie turned to Cori and smiled. "Welcome aboard
Helen's Gate."

"Thanks. I can't believe we finally got here," she said as she looked over the sailboat. "Wow, I'm very impressed. Are you going to show me around?"