Chapter 43
The storm raged, and the wind howled. The angry sky thundered, and the choppy waves crashed against the beach.
The sound of outboards howled as the Raptor approached. Jack navigated the boat into the surf and ran onto the sand.
Riley and I hustled down the beach to join him.
Drenched, we splashed into the surf. I helped her over the gunwale, into the tactical boat.
I pushed the boat back, then climbed aboard.
Jack reversed, spun around, and crashed into the swells head-on.
The bow split the water, and the boat rose and fell.
Shane tried to give Riley a hug, but she wasn't having any of it. "I'm mad at you."
He raised his hands innocently, backing off. "Any idea how long you're gonna stay mad?"
"Probably for the rest of the century."
"That's a long time to hold a grudge."
"It's not long enough," she said with narrow eyes, seething.
We cruised back to Coconut Key amid the chop and returned to the marina at Diver Down. Jack navigated into a slip, and I tied off. I helped Riley ashore, then we hustled to the Avventura. We'd gotten back just in time. The storm kept intensifying.
By that time, we were all sopping wet.
Buddy barked and bounced excitedly at all the commotion. I introduced him to our guests, then grabbed some towels and dealt them out. I wanted to get out of my clothes and into a hot shower. I'm sure Riley wanted the same thing.
"Are you sure you don't need medical attention?" I asked her.
"No. I'm fine. I could use a cocktail, and maybe a joint if you’ve got one."
I laughed. "I can help you with the cocktail."
"I figured as much."
"I've got some spare clothes if you'd like to take a shower and get dry," I said to her.
She lifted a curious eyebrow. "You've got my size?"
"I have a T-shirt and boxers."
She looked herself over. "It’s better than this."
“There are staterooms below deck where you both can get cleaned up.” I looked at Shane. "I've got clothes you can wear. Might be a little big on you," I quipped.
"Big shoes to fill, no doubt." He paused. "What happens now?"
“We’ll sit down over a drink, and you'll tell me everything. Then I'm gonna take you to jail."
Shane frowned. "How do you know what I'm going to say?" his nervous eyes glanced to his sister.
"I've been doing this long enough to know what the truth is long before you tell me. But answer me this. Who shot and killed James?"
"I swear to God that wasn't me," he said, raising his hands innocently. "It wasn't Wade either. Garrett is a fucking maniac."
"Was a maniac."
"He got what he had coming to him. He shouldn't have screwed me over."
"He's a convenient one to blame. He’s not here to say otherwise."
"You collected his guns at the bungalow. You're gonna run ballistics. One of them will match James."
"For your sake, I hope you're right."
Jack escorted Shane and Riley below deck and showed them to the guest staterooms. He returned to the salon. "You buy his story?"
"He's all but admitted to being involved in the heist. We know he was there."
"We can't prove any of it. Not unless he goes on record."
"Keep an eye on him while I get cleaned up. We’ll revisit this in a minute."
I headed up to my stateroom, stepped into the en suite, and peeled out of my soggy clothes.
I twisted the faucet and fired up the shower.
Within moments, hot, steamy water filled the stall.
I stepped in, and reveled in the moment, washing away the grime and salt.
The hot water felt good, and I tried to clear my head.
I didn't want to send Shane away for the rest of his life, but he made the choice himself. He had to live with it now.
The en suite door opened, and a familiar figure slipped in. Riley peeled out of her clothes, and the soggy things fell to her ankles. She set her towel on the counter and stepped toward the glass shower door and pulled it open.
“Mind if I join you?” It was a statement, not a question. She slipped inside, and I made room for her. What was I going to do, turn her down?
It was a tight squeeze, but I didn't mind at all.
"My hot water is broken," she said, looking up at me with those emerald eyes.
There was nothing wrong with her hot water, but I wasn't complaining.
The steamy water hit her skin, dripping down her glorious curves.
Her perky peaks stimulated impure thoughts.
Like a true gentleman, I helped her lather up.
My hands caressed her slick skin, and I pulled her close.
Our lips met, and our tongues danced. There were perks to rescuing a damsel in distress.
The shower stall was cozy, but we made it work. Our hips collided, and we went for broke as steam clouded the en suite. Moans of ecstasy bounced off the tile.
It got pretty loud.
I wondered if Shane could hear at the other end of the boat. I didn't care at this point.
Was Riley a suspect or a liberated victim of a kidnapping? Maybe she was both. Maybe this was unethical. A conflict of interest. But I already had a lot of that with this case. What's a little more?
We were so compromised on this investigation already that none of it would stick unless the co-conspirators gave a full confession.
After Riley and I had accomplished our mission objectives, we sudsed up and got clean for real. We dried off, and as promised, I found a T-shirt and boxers for her. I got dressed, and we made our way down to the salon to pour those drinks.
"Have a nice time in the shower?" JD asked, still standing, guarding the salon.
I smiled. "It was refreshing."
"Indeed," Riley said.
Jack headed toward his stateroom to get cleaned up.
I slid behind the bar, poured myself a glass of whiskey, and asked Riley, "What’s your poison?"
"Vodka cranberry, if you got it?"
With a smile, I said, "Coming right up!"
We sat at the bar and sipped our beverages. Riley recounted the ordeal. Though I’m sure it was something she was ready to forget.
Jack joined us about 15 minutes later.
Shane took a long time. Too long.
I gave the others a worried look, then went to check on him.