Lottery (42 page)

The winds were getting stronger, the waves soaring higher and higher. Shivering, she’d never felt so alone or so afraid.

Ling swiped the water out of her burning eyes, reached into her pocket and brought out the cell. “Oh, God, please.” She jiggled the phone, praying it would light up, but her prayers went unanswered.

Another mountain-sized wave rocked the boat violently, sending the cell flying out of her hand. Quickly reaching up, she grasped the steering wheel above her. Feeling the boat starting to tilt, Ling locked her bare feet against the base of the driver’s seat and held her breath.
It’s Okay
… she tried to believe …
everything will be okay
.

When the brutal swaying calmed, she let go of the wheel. Her chest pounding, her ribs still on fire from the fall she’d taken when Caleb had pushed her down the stairs, she had to make it to the back of the boat to light the flares.

Slowly, Ling worked her way out from underneath the control panel. Using the seat for leverage, she finally made it to a standing position. Looking out the plastic window next to the driver’s seat, Ling had never seen anything like this before; not even in a movie. Wall after wall of ferocious waves were unending, each one more powerful than the next; bolts of lightning sizzled in every direction, and the fierce thunder
completed the morbid scene. The yacht was being tossed around as if it was a toy with Ling as its hostage.

She had no idea how long the Ambien that she’d found in the medicine cabinet, crushed up, and tossed into Caleb’s gin would keep him knocked out. She needed to hurry.

The man from the Coast Guard had told her to wait until he said to light the flares. It had to have been a good ten to fifteen minutes since Ling lost contact with the detective. Was the Coast Guard near? Had they stopped searching? She gulped back tears. He’d also told her to put on a life jacket, but she had no idea where they were. Maybe Caleb had destroyed them so she wouldn’t try and get away. Her mind raced.
The gun
. Maybe she should try and get it? Ling quickly accessed the pros and cons, deciding against it. Even if she did manage to get the weapon, she wouldn’t be able to shoot anyone; not even Caleb.

She bent over, and grasped the flares and lighter out of the side pocket next to the driver’s seat. Looking to the back of the boat, she saw that the torrential downfall wasn’t letting up. Ling had to make a choice; go back underneath the cockpit and pray someone would find her before Caleb did, or take a chance, knowing she could go overboard while trying to get help. Unless a miracle happened, there was no way anyone would find her unless she somehow let them know where she was.

After she pushed the lighter into her back pocket, holding the flares tight in one hand, she stumbled into the aisle between the passenger and driver’s seats. Suddenly propelled forward, her arm smashed between her chest and the control panel, a gut-wrenching pain traveled from her shoulder and down through her arm. “Oh, no.” She shook her head, trying to move her fingers. “
No … no … no
.” Oh God, was her arm broken?

Feeling angrier than Ling had every felt in her life, she tilted her head back. “Fuck you, Caleb!” she screamed into the raging storm. “You are not going to win, you son-of-a-bitch.”

Cradling her arm against her chest, still holding onto the flares, Ling started to make her way to the back. When the boat took an abrupt turn, she gasped, tossed the flares, barely catching the base of the seat before the boat turned on its side.

Kicking her feet in the pool that swirled around her to try and stay in place, she fought to hold on. “
Pleeaassse … stop
.” If she let go, she’d be swept away.

Water gushed over the side, forcing its way into her nose and down her throat. Sputtering, Ling held on tight, each powerful swell pounding against her and prying mercilessly at her hand. Gasping for air, her hand numb from clutching the base so tight, one finger at a time was ripped loose … the little finger … the index finger … “Oh, God, please,” she begged, “help me … I can’t—”

When the boat rocketed upright, Ling was sent sailing through the back of the boat. Floating debris hit her thighs … shins … arms. When her head smashed into a bench, she let out a blood-curdling wail. Gasping in air, she scrambled to her knees. Every muscle in her body throbbed as the harsh rain hammered down on her.

Ling’s eyes raked the deck for any sign of the flares. “Oh, God, Daddy.” She coughed up water. “Help me.”

Squinting through the squall, she went down on her hands and knees. Trying to put most of her weight on the good arm, Ling slowly crawled through the turbulent mass of water, looking for any sign of the flares. When lightning zigzagged through the dark skies, she spotted the rocket-shaped cylinders circling each other.

Grimacing with every move, she trudged toward them. But every time she was close, the boat would suddenly slant, sending them soaring away.

Trying to see through the blinding downpour, inch-by-inch, she continued to track down the flares. The only thing that kept Ling from giving up was envisioning Ahna and Sammy’s faces.

“I can do this,” she whispered over and over again. Her hands stung, and her toes now as numb as her fingers, she remained still, waiting for the tide to shift.

Suddenly, an abrupt heave sent a flare rushing toward her. She slapped her hand over it, and swiftly forced the tube into the waistband of her sopping shorts. Feeling faint, she didn’t know how long she could continue without passing out. Every second, the storm grew more intense.

Her throat raw, she looked up. “Daddy,” she could barely choke out, “I can’t do this alone.”

he detective opened her cell. “Alvaraz,” she answered.

“The storm is getting stronger.” the male voice said over the speaker.

“Did they see
anything
yet?” Alvaraz asked.

“Nothing. I’m waiting to hear back from the guys on the boat,” he stated.

“What can I do?” Alvaraz asked.

Jenee could feel Alvaraz’s tension. Neither one of them had slept since Ling had been taken.

“Anything we should know about O’Toole?” he asked.

Alvaraz looked to Jenee. “Yes, you need to be cautious.”

“Caleb’s crazy.” Jenee sank back in her chair.

“Hold on,” he told Alvaraz and put her on hold.

Jenee held her breath through the long seconds of silence, hoping he would come back on the phone and say they’d found Ling.

“Just got a call,” the man told her when he came back on the phone.

“Did they see something?”

“I’ll have to get back to you. Couldn’t make out what he was saying for sure.”

“Wait,” Alvaraz shouted, “just tell me if they saw anything.” When there was no answer, she clicked the phone off.

Jenee sat up straight, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Do you think they found them?”

Alvaraz shook her head. “I have no idea. It could be another boat or—”

“Damn it,” Jenee shouted and stood. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she looked up. “For God’s sake, please help her!” She crumpled to the floor, sobbing. “Please don’t let Ling die.”

Alvaraz walked to her. Kneeling beside her, the detective put an arm around Jenee’s shoulder. “I know this is hard.”

Crying uncontrollably, Jenee shook her head. “God has to help her. He can’t let her die.”

“Why don’t you call your husband?” Alvaraz said empathetically. “You need him right now.”

“What if my phone rings?”

“I’ll get it. At this point, whether it’s Ling or Caleb, I need to intervene.” The detective offered Jenee a hand and helped her stand. Jenee wrapped her arms around herself, turned, and walked out of the kitchen.

Slowly stumbling up the stairs, Jenee knew she should go see Mei, but right now all she wanted was to hear Justin’s voice. Her legs felt heavy, and when she reached the second floor landing, she made her way down the hall and into the master suite.

Ling’s slippers were by the bed. On top of the dresser were pictures of Ling holding Sammy on the day he was born, and another of a smiling Caleb. Anger curdled inside of her, and she picked up the picture of Caleb, and hurled it across the room; the frame and glass shattering when it hit the wall. “How could
you do this, you sick son-of-a-bitch?” she screamed. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

Sniveling, she took out the phone the detective had given her to use and dialed.

“Jenee?” Justin answered on the first ring.

“Oh, God, Justin,” she cried. “I don’t know if Ling’s going to make it.”

Justin was quiet.

“Justin?”

“I’m here,” he said calmly.

“I don’t know what to do. I just keep trying to think—”

“Positively.”

He knew her so well.

“My flights already booked,” he told her. “I’ll be there in a few hours.”

She swiped the tears off her cheeks. “What about the kids?”

“With your mom.”

“Oh, God, Justin, I feel so helpless.”

“You know what to do,” Justin told her. She heard a door open, and then close, and knew he was getting into his truck.

“Pray,” she said faintly.

“Hang in there, honey, I’ll be there soon.”

Jenee was so exhausted, it felt like an out-of-body experience as she walked down the hallway and up to the third floor. In the upstairs suite, she went into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The last twenty-four hours had taken its toll.

Although it was almost one in the morning, she needed to tell Mei what was going on. Halfway down the stairs, when she heard a voice on the speaker phone, she stopped abruptly.

“I understand.” She heard Alvaraz say.

Jenee bolted down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen.

“We’ll give it another few minutes, and then we’ll have to pull our guys in,” the male voice boomed through the speaker.

“What’s going on?” Jenee asked.

Alvaraz put up her hand silencing Jenee. “No sign of anything?” the detective asked.

“No, nothing,” the voice answered.

“They can’t give up,” Jenee shouted, rushing toward Alvaraz.

“What about a copter?” Alvaraz asked.

“Too dangerous,” he said.

Alvaraz glanced at Jenee. “They don’t have a choice,” Alvaraz whispered to Jenee.

“Please.”

Still holding the phone, Alvaraz shook her head and looked away.

Jenee took hold of the detective’s shoulder and turned her around. “I’m asking you to beg them not to give up.”

ing took the lighter out of her back pocket. The rain beating against the tarp hurt her ears. On her knees, she braced her back against a bench. The lighter in one hand, she put one of the flares in her injured hand, praying it would light.