In Too Deep (20 page)

We were racing farther and farther from shore. The boat was bouncing up and down on the mounting waves.

“I'm going to untie Nick's hands.” I talked softly to her, the way I would to a scared little kid. “Okay?”

She nodded.

As I worked on the ropes around Nick's wrists, Nick said, “They'll probably take Varton as far out as they can and sink him deep. You and Morgan ...” The rope fell from his wrists. “You heard what he said, Robyn. You saw it. They're towing Morgan's boat. They're probably going to make it look like you two were out in the storm, maybe ran out of gas, or something went wrong with the engine, maybe you decided to try for shore—”

Morgan whimpered.

I looked around. We were in a small cabin. There were windows all around us, but they were too small to squeeze through even if we could get them open. And there was a door—just one.

“We could stop them from coming in,” I said.

“They have guns,” Morgan said in a shaky voice.

“They want it to look like an accident,” I pointed out. “They want our bodies to be found. They don't want our parents”—my dad—“poking around up here.”

Nick squeezed my hand.

“These guys are serious, Robyn. Four kids are dead already. If we give them any trouble, they'll just shoot us, at least shoot one of us, and weight us down, too, so no one will ever find us.”

“There has to be something we can do,” I said, more for Morgan's sake than because I believed it.

Phil Varton groaned. His eyes fluttered open and then closed again. I went to him. His hair was matted with blood. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, but I had no idea how badly he was hurt.

“They're eventually gonna come and get us,” Nick said. “Our only chance is to get into the water before they can do anything to us.”

“Jump overboard, you mean?” I said.

Nick nodded grimly.

“Morgan can't swim with that cast on,” I said.

“I don't know what else to do, Robyn,” Nick said. “They're gonna kill us. We can't just let them do it without a fight.”

“But they have guns ...”

“You have a better idea?”

Outside, the wind roared. The small boat pitched and rolled. I heard someone shout but couldn't make out what he was saying.

Then the boat slowed.

The door to the cabin opened. Bruno appeared, swaying in the doorway.

“Up,” he said. “Now.”

“See if you can grab some life jackets,” Nick whispered. “The first chance you two have, get into the water.” He staggered to his feet. I reached for Morgan to help her up.

Morgan moaned. Her face was pale with pain.

“Come on, Morgan.” I leaned in close to her. “We have to at least try.”

Phil Varton groaned again. Bruno grabbed me and shoved me out onto the deck. Derek was out there.

“Watch her,” Bruno told him.

Derek forced me down onto the deck and held a gun on me. I looked up and saw Dean Lafayette at the wheel. Larry Wilson was standing beside him. The boat came to a stop. Dean Lafayette started toward the stern. He was the only one of the three who was wearing a life jacket.

Nick stumbled out onto the deck. Bruno was right behind him. He forced Nick down to his knees.

Dean Lafayette left Wilson at the wheel and started coming toward me. I turned to Nick. His eyes went to Lafayette. Bruno shoved Morgan roughly up the steps onto the deck. She stumbled and cried out in pain. Derek grabbed her, yanked her to her feet, and pushed her out onto the deck. Then he turned to Dean Lafayette.

“Get their boat,” he said. “Get ready.”

Nick was still kneeling on the deck, but his eyes were hard on Bruno. His whole body was rigid. He nodded. Then everything happened at once.

A huge wave slammed into the boat, and it rocked violently. Nick was on his hands and knees now, drenched. His eyes still focused on Bruno, Nick surged upward. He slammed into Bruno and knocked the gun from his hand. Derek grabbed Morgan and threw her against the side of the boat, out of his way. He raised his gun and aimed it at Nick. Nick swung around, taking Bruno with him so that Bruno was between Nick and Derek. At that same instant, Derek fired.

Nick fell backward into the water, still holding Bruno. Derek rushed to the rail and fired again. Another wave crashed against the boat. Morgan screamed. I watched in horror as she was swept into the water. I started for the side of the boat but stopped when Derek swung his gun around at me. It looked as big as a cannon.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dean Lafayette reach behind himself. I saw his arm come around again. He swung it at Derek.

A shot rang out.

Derek collapsed on the deck.

I turned and stared at Dean Lafayette. He looked at me for a second, then spun around and headed back to Larry Wilson at the wheel. Wilson turned to escape, but Lafayette tackled him from behind and crashed with him to the deck. A moment later, Lafayette was on his feet again. He hauled Wilson up off the deck. I saw the flash of handcuffs. Then Dean Lafayette worked his way back over the heaving deck to me.

I heard Morgan cry out, “Help!”

“There's a searchlight up there,” Dean Lafayette yelled over the roar of the storm. “Turn it on. See if you can find your friends.” He grabbed a couple of life jackets and dove over the side of the boat into the black, roiling water.

I scrambled up the steps to where the steering wheel was. The boat was pitching and tossing even more violently. I lost my balance and slammed against the wheel. It took me a moment to regain my footing and make my way to the light. I swept the beam across the water and saw nothing but waves and blackness. No Nick. No Morgan. I called their names, but the wind seemed to whip the words right back at me.

I swept the water again, more slowly this time, forcing myself to look carefully. Then:

“There,” I screamed into the wind. “Starboard side,” I shouted to Dean Lafayette. “I see something on the starboard side.”

A hand. The side of a face. A mass of chestnut hair—Morgan's current color. Then nothing.

“Morgan,” I screamed. “Morgan, hold on.”

Morgan had taken swimming lessons with Billy and me every year when we were younger. I knew she could swim. But for the past couple of years she had been enjoying sitting on the dock more than fooling around in the water. “I don't want to mess up my hair” was her standard excuse. I hoped she hadn't lost her strength, or that she could at least manage to tread water. The lake was choppy. The waves were high. And she had a cast on her leg.

I kept the light on the place where I had last seen her. Dean Lafayette doggedly swam toward the focused beam. A hand broke through the surface. I shouted. Lafayette grabbed the hand and pulled. I held my breath. Morgan's head emerged from the water, and Dean Lafayette pulled her to him. Her eyes were closed. I couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. He slipped a life jacket on her and started to tow her back toward the boat. With every stroke he took, the wind and the waves seemed to push him two strokes farther away.
Please
, I prayed.
Please
.

Finally he was within a few feet of the side of the boat. I raced down the steps just as his hand grabbed the gunwale. I caught hold of Morgan's life jacket and held tight while Dean Lafayette clambered aboard. Together we hauled her out of the water and onto the deck. Dean Lafayette immediately laid her down on the deck and pressed a finger against her neck to check for a pulse. He tipped her head back to open her airway and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

“What about Nick?” I said.

“You know how to do this?”

“Yes.”

He moved aside so that I could take over, then scrambled back up to the light and swept the water.

I tried to focus on Morgan. I pinched her nose lightly and breathed into her mouth until I saw her chest rise.
Come on, Morgan. Come on
. I felt myself start to panic. She had been in the water for a few minutes, but I had no idea how long she had been submerged. It was all my fault. None of this would have happened if it weren't for me. And what about Nick? Where was he?

Don't think about that, Robyn. Morgan needs your help. She needs you to stay calm. Breathe out and watch Morgan's lungs expand, one, two. Release and watch them fall, two, three, four. Breathe, count, release, count.

Dean Lafayette swept the water and called out Nick's name.

Morgan spluttered. I rolled her over onto her side and let her cough out the water. Lafayette had abandoned his search. He jumped down onto the deck and knelt down to see how Morgan was.

“I don't have a phone,” he said. “And there's no radio on board. We have to go back. We have to get to a phone and call emergency rescue.”

“But Nick—”

“I can't see him, Robyn,” he said. “No sign of Bruno, either. In this storm, they could be anywhere. We have to go back. The faster we do that, the better chance Nick has. Robyn, Morgan needs your help. She needs to get out of those wet clothes. So do you.”

He dug in his pocket for something—a key. “The two of you get in the cabin. Get out of those clothes. There are some blankets down there. Then help Phil. Here's the key to his chains.”

“But I—”

“Now, Robyn.”

Tears burned my eyes as I helped Morgan down into the cabin. She was coughing, and her lips were turning blue. She was trembling all over. I helped her to sit down, then tore open cupboards and drawers until I found a couple of old sweaters and some blankets. I helped Morgan peel off her damp clothes and pull a sweater over her head. I wrapped her in a blanket. I did the same for myself. Then I knelt down beside Phil Varton and undid the lock that held him chained. His eyes were open.

“Are you all right?” I said.

Slowly he raised a hand and touched it to his head. He looked groggy as he struggled to a seated position.

Once I was sure that he and Morgan were going to be okay, I went back out on deck. We were headed for the marina. I could see its lights flash off and on above the waves. When we got close enough, I saw two figures on the dock—Al Duggan and his daughter Colleen. Dean Lafayette tossed a line to Al and another one to Colleen, and they pulled us in to the dock.

“Help them,” he said to Al Duggan as he jumped off the boat. He said something else to Duggan that I couldn't hear. Then he sprinted up to the marina restaurant.

A

l Duggan led us to the house behind the marina
restaurant. He phoned someone—a doctor who lived nearby. While we waited for him, Colleen gave Morgan and me some dry clothes to wear. Duggan made Phil Varton lie down on the sofa. The doctor came and checked us all over. He told Al Duggan that both Phil Varton and Morgan should go to the hospital—Varton needed an X-ray and stitches in his head. Morgan also needed an X-ray to make sure that there was no further damage to her ankle. Duggan said that he would take them right away.

“Come with me, Robyn,” Morgan said. “Please. You can't do anything here.”

“What about Nick?” I said.

“When they find him, someone will tell us.”

I could have hugged her for saying
when
. Still, I was reluctant to go. But Morgan insisted.

  .    .    .

The sun was coming up by the time Morgan appeared in a wheelchair pushed by an orderly. She had a brand-new cast on her ankle and a new set of crutches.

“I called your parents,” I said. “They're on their way up. They want you to call them as soon as you can.”

“Any word on Nick?”

I shook my head and fought back tears. “I haven't heard anything at all.”

I wheeled Morgan to the emergency waiting room. When we got there, Morgan called her parents and they told her to stay where she was. They said they'd be there within the hour.

“Are you okay?” I asked Morgan.

“My ankle got re-broken,” she said. “I've got to have this cast on for six more weeks. There goes my whole summer.” She gave me a sheepish look. “You know what I mean.”

I put an arm around her. When everything else was completely crazy, I could always count on Morgan to be Morgan.

“I wish I knew what was going on,” I said. “I wish I knew where Nick was.”

Morgan squeezed my hand.

The emergency department doors parted and a gurney rolled in, pushed by two ambulance attendants. There was a doctor alongside it, checking on the patient. I saw a shock of black hair. Walking beside the gurney was a police officer, Detective Goyer. The police had sent him to take over the investigation. He'd already arrested Dean Lafayette, Derek, and Larry Wilson. He had questioned me while Morgan was being treated.

I stood up and ran to the gurney.

Nick.

He was wrapped in a blanket. His hair was wet and matted. And the scar on his face stood out against the whiteness of his face.

“Nick!”

He managed a faint smile.