Anchoring You
SNEAK PEEK
Hands on the wheel, Kenzie Wright scanned the horizon where sea met sky in an unbroken line.
She could breathe out here on the open waters.
The clank of rigging, the snap of lines.
Billowing canvas, steady wind, and waves high enough to keep her on her toes.
She and her crew had left St. Barths that morning, sailing this remarkable vessel to Miami for its wealthy owner.
Afternoon sunlight glinted off the Caribbean, the breeze carrying the scents of salt and freedom—exactly why she'd chosen this life instead of the dull-as-dirt office job her father had mapped out for her.
At the creaking behind her, Kenzie glanced over her shoulder to see Barn approaching, his weathered face partially hidden beneath a salt-and-pepper beard. He'd been with her on more voyages than she could count, a comforting presence in the unpredictable world of contract sailing.
"Cap’n." His voice was gravelly from years of shouting over ocean winds. "Got a minute?"
"Sure." She smiled but faced forward again, maintaining her professional demeanor. Being the youngest captain in these waters—and female, to boot—meant never letting her guard down, even with trusted crew.
Barn leaned against the console beside her and crossed his arms. "Saw you with that fella Jaz last night at the dock."
Kenzie stifled a sigh. Of course someone had seen.
She’d chosen a local, out-of-the way burger joint for dinner, blocks from the strip and all its ritzy clientele.
All she’d wanted was to eat in silence, to enjoy the birdsong and peace.
She had no idea why the playboy Jaz had been there, and was even more bewildered that he’d joined her.
Though nobody else seemed to know his full name, she’d learned who he was at Christmastime when she went home to Maine and met his brother, Noah, who was dating Delaney, Kenzie’s older sister.
Noah was raising Jasper’s daughter while Jaz flitted around the Caribbean.
She’d seen the man in various ports, always with one arm around his woman-of-the-day, other hand holding a drink.
Not that she owed Barn an explanation, but she didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. "He showed up and plopped himself down at my table—uninvited.”
At first, she’d figured Jaz had learned their connection, but he said nothing about it, just offered to buy her a drink, all charm and no substance.
She didn’t drink and certainly wouldn’t start with a guy like him.
“And?" Barn's bushy eyebrows lifted.
"And nothing." The wind shifted slightly, and Kenzie adjusted the wheel to stay on course. "I ate my dinner, he talked at me, and I left."
"That fella's got a reputation. Trouble for someone in your position."
The subtext was clear. Young female captain meets notorious playboy—it wasn't just about her reputation. It was about being taken seriously in an industry that still raised eyebrows when she introduced herself as the captain.
"I can handle myself."
"Don’t I know it?” His eyes nearly disappeared as his cheeks rose in a smile. “Just making…" He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze shifting beyond her shoulder toward the horizon. "Cap'n, you see that?"
She turned, following his line of sight. A speck had appeared on the horizon. They came across other vessels often enough, but something about that one had her reaching for her binoculars from the console. Through the lenses, the speck materialized into a speedboat, cutting through the waves.
It was flying over the water, its bow lifted high, white water spraying behind it.
She could make out one—make that two—figures behind the console, but the spray and angle hid most of the deck.
Could be two men. Could be eight or ten.
The two she saw wore all black. These weren’t fishermen or tourists.
They looked like thugs.
Pirates operated in these waters, though usually off the coast of Venezuela, closer to the islands of Trinidad and Tobago. These weren’t the swashbuckling legends of old but rough men who targeted tourist vessels to steal whatever valuables they could get their hands on.
The speedboat would intercept the yacht in a matter of minutes.
"Get everyone below." She was thankful her voice didn’t give away the fear bubbling inside her.
"What is it?" Barn held his hand out for the binoculars.
She pulled them closer. She didn’t need a second opinion. “They’re coming. Move.”
“I’m not leaving you to—”
“Now, Barn. Protect the crew. I’m counting on you.”
She’d hired four crew members. Barn was the oldest and most experienced.
Two more men, one with a wife and kids at home, and a woman about Kenzie’s age who’d begged to join.
Kenzie remembered being capable but having to convince captains that she knew what she was doing. She’d been mentoring the other woman.
Would that decision mean her death? All of their deaths?
Barn was still staring at the approaching boat.
“Go!”
He shook himself and spun, calling orders.
Kenzie snatched the radio. "Mayday, mayday, mayday. Sailing Vessel Blue Fantasy." She kept her voice steady as she relayed her position. "We’re being pursued by an unidentified vessel, likely hostile. Request immediate assistance." She repeated the mayday two more times.
The radio crackled, then, “This is motor vessel Bella Bella. We read your mayday loud and clear. Relaying to the Coast Guard now. Over.”
Trusting the Bella Bella to keep trying the Coast Guard, Kenzie spoke into the radio again. “Power vessel off my port bow, this is sailing vessel Blue Fantasy. Please state your intentions. Over.”
Through the binoculars, she watched the passenger glance down at the dash—surely he’d received her message. But he lifted his gaze again without responding.
She’d swear he was looking right at her.
A voice came over the radio. “Sailing vessel Blue Fantasy, this is United States Coast Guard Sector San Juan. Confirm your position.”
She did, still watching the speedboat as it closed the distance. She was running out of time.
“Coast Guard assets are being launched. State the nature of the threat and number of persons on board. Over.”
“Speedboat closing in. No markers I can see. Two men visible. We have five souls aboard the Blue Fantasy.” Her crew. Her responsibility.
“Roger. Assistance is en route. If safe, continue transmitting your position and status every five minutes. Maintain channel one-six. We are with you. Over.”
With her, but not yet. The speedboat would be on them in minutes.
Movement on the starboard side caught her eye. Kenzie swung the binoculars in that direction. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the Coast Guard had a vessel close by.
But when she found it through the lenses, it wasn’t the Coast Guard. It was a second speedboat. Were they flanking her?
"Dear Lord, help us."
She adjusted course, though it was futile. The yacht's sails were full, but even with perfect wind, they couldn't outrun those boats. She powered up the auxiliary motor to gain a little acceleration, but it was meant for harbor maneuvering, not high-speed chases. It wouldn’t be enough.
Think. Panic wouldn't save them. What would Dad do?
Kenzie knew the answer to that—Dad would fight. The problem was, Dad was a trained CIA operative. She was a sailor. She had a flare gun with six flares. She could fire it at the approaching boats. Maybe it would start a fire. Maybe it would bounce off the hull and splash harmlessly into the sea.
She had the Sig P65 Dad had given her. One in the chamber, ten in the clip. Eleven shots.
Eleven shots on rough waters.
Against a boatload…make that two boatloads of pirates.
If help didn’t come soon, they had no chance of escape.