HIGH TIDE by Miller Maureen A

Author:Miller, Maureen A. [Miller, Maureen A.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-06-23T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Her foot fell asleep. Briana leaned around the front bumper of the car to watch Nick hurdle the fence. The athletic maneuver fascinated her. To judge lapsed time, she began to count. When she reached two hundred and heard the engine of the Merryweather rev up, fear became her primary motivator. It imposed a call to duty as she darted on numbed toes to the far end of the fence. Cautious, she flanked it and peered through the rungs, but could discern nothing in the darkness.

A muffled yell penetrated the stillness followed by a hollow thump that spurred her into action. She launched over the gate.

Plastic-healed sneakers tread quietly down the planks, homed to the yellow glow of the Merryweather’s bridge. Tempted to call out Nick’s name, Briana held her tongue. She advanced as far as the filtered light would allow, and then squinted to better distinguish the forms locked in conflict near the ramp.

A cloud shifted and moonlight blanketed the pier. Nick stood with his chest heaving and his long legs poised for flight, but the gun to his head rendered him immobile.

Biting down on her lip to contain her scream, Briana watched in horror as Nick was shoved on board the fiberglass deck. Banking on the fact that the night and this heavy wooden column rendered her invisible, she barely gave a moment’s consideration before darting to the next post for a closer view. Anxiety had her gulping in the rank air. Aside from the action on the Merryweather, nothing else stirred.

Less cautious and more concerned, Briana jogged closer to the vessel and heard Nick’s condemning oaths. With a sense of satisfaction she identified the solid smack of his fist against a crewmember’s jaw. Any moment now she expected Nick to sprint from the shadows and join her, but another blow from the dark silenced him.

Frantic, she searched for a way to intervene. A silhouette count calculated that there were at least three of them, two physically restraining Nick and one immobilizing him with the gun. Daring to advance one more pillar she was spurred on by the altered rhythm of the engine. The Merryweather was about to pull out of port, and Nick was still on it.

As surreal as this chaotic encounter was, Briana was certain of one thing. If that boat went out to sea with Nick aboard, the premonition that he would not return was too menacing to dismiss.

She needed a distraction.

Anxious, she scanned the pier. An orange, semi-deflated life preserver was mounted to a post near the closest trawler. She dared a brief interlude of exposure as she rushed into the open to grab it. Safe again in her hideout, she realized that Nick was no longer on deck, presumably ushered down below. As dismal as her plan was, there was no recourse but to execute it.

With a hearty pitch, Briana sent the preserver arcing through the air to land with a deadened thud on a tourist vessel three slips back from the gate.

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