The Whiskey Tide (54 page)

***

     
Curtains of fog curled up from the wet ground into a pale dawn promising sunshine. From a rock at the mouth of the cave Kate watched its shifting forms while memories of the night before swirled in her with equal lightness. Joe's touch had made her feel enchanted. His fingers, hardened by work yet gentle, had moved over her as if she were the most desirable woman ever born.

     
It still had been dark out when he wakened her, touching her almost shyly and whispering he was going to check on the boat. When he'd dressed, he'd set a heavy black service revolver beside her and asked if she knew how to use it, a reminder that other lawbreakers might have been driven to shore by the storm.

     
He emerged from the fog below where she sat so suddenly that her blood lurched. It settled only slightly as she realized he was not an intruder. She remembered his body. Bore the soreness of its blending with hers. An overpowering shyness gripped her as they looked at one another.

     
"I scattered what was left of the fire," she said awkwardly.

     
His head ducked in acknowledgment. "Thought you might want this."

     
He held out the sweater she'd left in the cabin. Kate pulled it over her head, grateful for the warmth and for its reassurance the
Folly
was safe.

     
"Are Clovis and Billy all right?"

     
"Seem to be. Billy's sneezing all over the place and his nose is running, but it looks like his fever's broken."

     
He hoisted himself onto the rock and took her hand, gravely tracing her fingers.

     
"Kate, I don't know where to start all I want to say. About you and... us. But there's lots else that needs seeing to just now. Engine's dead. Steering's damaged. I'd rather get us home safe before we talk. If you wouldn't mind."

     
"Yes. I mean fine."

     
He squeezed her hand with an approval she sensed but did not understand. It was strange, this feeling that things between them had changed. They looked the same, sounded the same, yet they could scarcely look at one another without smiling. The ease of their conversation had been replaced by clumsiness.

     
They returned to the rowboat with few words spoken. When they came within view of the
Folly
they took care to stay well apart. The schooner seemed little worse for the storm, but Joe spent half the morning disassembling the engine and drying spark plugs before he could get it to start. Then while they lay at anchor, Kate turned the wheel while he and Clovis inspected the wires and pulleys that made up the steering. One of the wires had snapped. Joe used a swaging iron to make a replacement. When they finally cast off, even Billy stopped sneezing to cheer.

     
For the rest of that day and the next the mood on board was subdued. The storm had reminded them all of the tenuousness of mortality. They pushed to make up lost time. If they couldn't reach their rendezvous spot tonight, they would have to lay over, increasing chances they would be spotted. She and Joe avoided each other so scrupulously there was little of the conversation which ordinarily lightened their trips. Kate wondered if in becoming lovers they had lost the easy camaraderie which bound them.

     
She had scarcely been able to sleep the first night back. A dank smell remained from water belowdecks and new memories inflamed her body when she closed her eyes.

     
"I'll take the wheel. Go get some sleep," Joe said stopping beside her just after nine o'clock the second night.

     
She avoided his gaze. "I can take my watch, same as always."

     
The stir of his smile was just visible to her in the darkness.

     
"Kate." His voice smoothed over her like a caress. "Clovis and Billy won't think anything of it. I can't sleep anyway this close to landing."

     
She would have argued, but his head turned. Then she heard it too, the whine of a high, fast, engine bearing toward them. There had been heavy traffic tonight, some of it undoubtedly delayed by the storm and much of it dark. Not ten minutes ago a larger, faster boat had passed them, rocking them with its wake. This sounded like the same boat doubling back.

     
"Put on the bow light," Joe called.

     
She heard Billy scramble. But before they could reveal their own position, a blast of light from the approaching boat half blinded her. She heard Joe swear and pull back hard on the throttle. The rattle of gunfire smacked into the hull of the
Folly
.

     
"Raise your hands over your head and step to the bow so nobody gets hurt," a voice from the other boat warned.

     
Her eyes had closed instinctively at the glare of the searchlight. With vision only partly restored, she looked at the vessel blocking their way. Well over a hundred feet and motorized. Behind the glare of the light she made out at least eight men, weapons to their shoulders.

     
"You're late. Expected you last night."

     
She recognized the insolent voice.

     
It was Felix Garvey.

Thirty-nine

     
"Do as I say and we may not sink you." Felix spoke with sadistic glee. The man to his right held a Tommy gun.

     
"Okay!" Joe shouted. "We'll cooperate!"

     
Kate couldn't see Clovis, but she saw Billy. His young face was white in the searchlight, his hands already up. A yard from her Joe balanced on the balls of his feet. Surely he and Clovis, with only two rifles, wouldn't have a chance if they fought!

     
"I figure you owe me a load of booze and then some, laying me up for a week and making me look stupid." Felix hefted a large shape over the rail and let it hang. Kate heard a whimper. He turned his head in her direction. "Tell your sister this could just as easily be your gimp brother."

     
Squinting into the harsh light she saw his hand flash down. Entrails spilled from the shape which she realized now was King Tut. The dog's dying yelp merged with her cry. In the midst of it a shot from the
Folly
shattered the other boat's light. Gunfire sprayed the place where Joe had stood seconds earlier. She was knocked to the deck, a hand clamped over her mouth.

     
"Don't say a word. Don't move. And for Christ's sake don't reach for the wheel!" Joe whispered.

     
She was too paralyzed by horror. The big black dog whose presence had encouraged her that her family was safe had been snatched from the yard of her home and killed in front of her. If Felix could capture a snarling dog, what could he do to defenseless Woody?

     
Another burst from the Tommy guns raked the length of the schooner. She heard a whine as rigging snapped. Joe had melted into the darkness and on the other boat men were cursing. Clovis had shot out their light. They fired randomly. Kate flinched at the smack of bullets into wood not far from her head. A rifle cracked behind her. Clovis was firing from the companionway.

     
The submachine guns gave another burst. In their flash she caught a glimpse of Joe sprawled face down at the front of the boat and she bit back a cry. She was bracing for the rattle of bullets which ended each brief respite when she heard a single shot. A deafening explosion rent the boat attacking them.

     
In the sudden illumination she saw chunks of wood flying skyward. Someone screamed in agony. The
Folly
bounced on the shock wave hurled up by the water.

     
"Kate! Stay down!" Joe shouted.

     
The attacking boat was a ball of flames. Another shriek pierced the air, raising the hair on her neck. Someone — Clovis — was behind her grabbing the throttle and shoving it wide. The water ran red with the blaze of the inferno. Its heat parched her cheek. She tried to get to her knees, but shaking prevented it. Strong arms lifted her as Joe knelt beside her. He was checking her, sheltering her. His cheek pressed her hair.

     
"Kate... are you okay?"

     
"Yes. You?"

     
"Yes."

     
"Holy smokes, Joe! Did you throw a grenade?"

     
She heard more than saw Billy squeezed close to them. His voice quavered.

     
"I was a sniper some of the time in the army, Billy. I hit their gas tank."

     
Behind them, chunks of the burning boat broke free and fell into the water. Kate didn't need to be told there were no survivors. The primal satisfaction that came with the knowledge appalled her. She was horrified by what had befallen the men on the boat, but she didn't regret it. The glint of that slashing knife and the yelp of the dying dog would be with her forever.

     
Joe eased her to her feet and smoothed her hair. "Sit down for a minute," he said steering her to a hammock of coiled rope. "Billy — run get that bottle of whiskey that's in the galley."

     
They all took several pulls, pouring Billy's into a mug so his cold wasn't spread. Concerned that their course might need correcting, Joe returned to the wheel. Kate went with him. His arm settled lightly over her shoulders. Clovis and Billy stole curious looks. The burning boat had dwindled to a small spark on the horizon when Clovis, keeping watch at the bow, gave a whistle. Kate looked and saw a flickering pinprick of light.

     
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Joe said under his breath. "An S-O-S. What else could go wrong?"

     
He barked orders to Billy and Clovis. As they all strained to see, they made out the shape of a vessel considerably smaller than theirs. It angled sharply in the water, swaying unsteadily.

     
"It's taking on water," Joe said. "Put on the bow light." His shoulders tensed. He looked at Kate. "We've got to help."

     
"Of course!"

     
"Kate... what you don't know is...." He took a deep breath. "It's a Coast Guard boat."

***

     
Within two minutes they were close enough for Joe to make out figures on what he recognized was a thirty-six-foot ticket boat. Within five they were close enough to ahoy.

     
"We're the schooner
Pa's Folly
out of Salem," Joe called. "When we're abeam we'll launch our stern boat."

     
You didn't leave men to go down at sea, even if rescuing them meant you'd get run in for illicit cargo. The aft deck of the Coast Guard vessel was nearing the water on its port side. Two men stood at the bow beside a blanket-wrapped shape. Joe and Clovis winched the rowboat down while Kate held the wheel.

     
"Petrashek, you get in and hold steady," one of the Coast Guardsmen ordered as he and another sailor caught the rowboat with grappling hooks. "I'll lower Sullivan as best I can."

     
"Daryl?" Joe called dubiously.

     
The Coast Guardsman flung up a hand in an effort to see past the light. "Joe Santayna? Is that you?"

     
"Yeah. What the hell happened?"

     
"Bunch of thugs that work for a rum boss spotted us and opened fire with a Thompson. Shot the hull up deliberately so we'd go down, and the life boat so we couldn't use it."