Chapter 37
Barnaby knew his right leg had been hit, but one benefit of being immersed in the deep cold of the offshore Maine water was that he couldn’t feel a thing. Knowing that Hooper was still firing bullets, he stayed underwater for as long as he could, until his lungs were about to burst.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, he surfaced, hoping to use his boat as cover—but there was no boat, save for one last glimpse of its bow as it sank below the surface. He kept his head low, like a seal, bracing for more bullets. When none came, he swam toward the rocks.
One thing about John Carmichael III, he made sure all his children knew how to handle themselves in the water and on the water.
Barnaby had even swum competitively at school.
But ocean swimming was completely different from a heated high school pool.
This far from shore, the currents could be intense.
The next stop in the eastern direction was the coast of Portugal, after all.
Even swimming a few yards had him straining and panting.
During one of his gasps for breath, he caught sight of a speedboat heading back toward Sea Smoke Island.
That must be Hooper, and possibly Gabby.
Damn damn damn. He’d taken a bullet, gotten his boat torpedoed, and still missed his chance to rescue her.
So it was a shock when he hit the rocks—literally, the waves banging his body against them—and a slim brown hand reached down to help him.
“Gabby!” He shook water away from his stinging eyes and squinted to see better. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you okay?”
For some reason that made them both laugh, though his was more of a wheeze. “Are you solidly braced up there? Don’t want to pull you in.”
“I’m good. Come on, before you freeze to death.”
He gripped her hand to leverage himself onto the rocks. Even through the cold-induced numbness, he felt the scrape of barnacles. The waves swirled after him, as if they weren’t quite done with him yet.
Once he was fully free from the ocean, Gabby helped him onto the grassy mound from which the lighthouse soared. There, he collapsed onto his back, heaving in breaths, watching the lighthouse beam in its hypnotic three-hundred-and-sixty-degree sweep.
“You’re bleeding.” Gabby crouched next to his left leg. It gave a vague throb, as if agreeing with her statement.
“I’ll be okay. The cold water is stopping the blood flow.”
“What if there’s a bullet lodged in there? Should we get it out?”
He had to laugh at the terrified expression on her face. “Are you offering to do emergency surgery on my leg?”
“Yes…no…” She bit her lip. “Barnaby, I—”
“I love you,” he blurted. The cold water must have scrambled his brains, because he’d had no idea those words were about to come out of his mouth.
Her eyes went wide with panic. “Are you about to die? Is that why you’re saying that?”
Laughter sputtered from his chest, spreading warmth and life through his body. “I’m not about to die. I promise. This might be the hypothermia talking, but it feels like a flesh wound. Just tie something above it to slow the blood flow, such as it is.”
“Wait. Okay. Yeah. I have something. Stay here.” She ran into the lighthouse and came back with a purple sweater. As he hid his winces, she tied it around his thigh.
“Tighter,” he told her, gritting his teeth.
She did as he directed, then plopped her butt onto the grass. “Can we circle back to the part where you said you love me?”
“I love you,” he said simply. “I just do. I feel…right with you. Like no matter what else happens around us, you and me, we’re right and good and exactly where we should be.
” He knew he wasn’t expressing himself very well, possibly because his lips were still numb from being underwater. “Sorry, you’re the writer, not me.”
“No, you’re doing great.” She shifted closer so she could press her lips against his—so warm, like life itself. Everything good and hopeful seemed to flow into him from that kiss. “But we can’t do this right now.”
He noticed that she hadn’t returned his words, but that was okay. He could be patient.
“Hooper took Tamara to Sea Smoke, he’s trying to find the treasure, and also he hates her so she’s not safe with him, and also Hooper is actually—”
“Keith Garner, I know. I figured it out after I ran into Fiona. Sneaky motherfucker.” With a wince, he tried to sit up, then decided he wasn’t quite ready yet.
Gabby went on. “He was staying in Amelia’s guesthouse so he could do his dirty work without anyone noticing. She must have recognized him, that’s why she was reaching for that book when she collapsed. He hated her too.”
“Bitter and out for revenge?”
“And the treasure. I think he believes that would be the ultimate revenge on the entire island, to walk off with the treasure everyone’s been talking about forever.”
Barnaby made another attempt to sit up, and this time, he managed it. He really needed to get himself together here. Tamara was in the hands of a bitter vengeful lunatic.
“So that’s why he brought you out here? To find the treasure?”
“Yes, but he was wrong. Tamara and I came up with a theory about where it’s buried, and that’s where he took her. I think it’s near her house, but we’re stuck here on this rock with zero cell service and no way to communicate.”
He gestured for her to help him get to his feet. Once he was upright, he gingerly tested his right leg. It hurt to put weight on it, but not the bone-deep hurt of a fracture, which he’d experienced before. “There should be a radio in the lighthouse. Let’s go look around.”
“I’ll look. You stay here. Just tell me what to look for.”
“Woman, I’m fine,” he grumbled as he limped across the grass.
“If he has Tamara, you can fucking amputate my leg and I’m still going after him.
That bastard was trying to frame her for all those poisonings.
As soon as he finds that treasure he’ll kill her, I have no doubt. He blames her for Fiona’s—”
“Abortion, I know. You must have run into Fiona, then? I was hoping she’d notify Luke that we’re out here.”
They stepped through the lighthouse door. He blinked to adjust to the relative dimness.
Barnaby had already thought about that. “I texted Luke that I was headed here in the Sea Siren. I’m sure he’ll get here soon.”
“Soon enough? Tamara’s all alone with that madman.”
Good point. He gazed around the empty lower floor of the lighthouse. All the control mechanisms must be up the spiral staircase that led to an upper floor. He didn’t look forward to that climb, but it had to be done. “We have to find the radio.”
He set out for the staircase, clenching his teeth against the pain. She hurried to join him, hovering just behind him as he gripped the railing. “What if there isn’t a radio?”
“There will be.” There had to be. There was probably some kind of Coast Guard regulation about that.
“Maybe there’s a way to interrupt the beam. Like throw something in front of the light source.”
“You mean, climb all the way to the lantern room?” At the bottom of the staircase, he craned his neck to look up at all the steps they’d have to take to reach the door that led to the outside maintenance walkway.
“Consider it a Plan B.”
He grunted in pain as he took the first step. “Radio first. If we can’t find one, we’ll consider your creative Plan B. It’d be a great podcast moment.”
“So we finally won you over to the podcast side,” she teased.
Bigger question…had he won her over? His words of love were still hanging out there. Alone on a ledge.