"Kasmira B. You're looking good." Bjorn's voice came to her faintly. "Adjust one degree to starboard. Kaz, you're gonna make it. Hang in there." Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the rain.
As she neared Clatsop Spit, huge breakers slammed into the trawler, their giant, white-foamed crests obscuring the buoys. She wrenched the wheel to the right with all her strength, forcing the trawler to sluggishly change course again. A spate of icy sleet hit her numbed face like hot needles.
The roar of the surf was so loud now that she could barely hear her own thoughts. The radio crackled again, and Bjorn said something, but it was lost on the wind.
She eased her way toward the Lower Desdemona Shoal, where shifting sands made safe passage a game of Russian roulette. The trawler's diesel engine coughed, and Kaz froze, terror sliding sickeningly along her nerve endings. If she lost power...
The engine coughed again, then resumed its ponderous chugging. She steered for the next buoy.
Another wave crashed over the trawler, slapping her down, washing her halfway over the railing of the bridge. She clung to the wheel as it spun wildly under her weight, dragging herself back to her feet. Struggling against her waning strength, she willed the trawler back on course.
She caught a glimpse of another buoy, enough to adjust her course again, just before fog enveloped the boat. Concentrating on keeping her course and speed even, she released another trembling breath when the next buoy loomed out of the murky darkness in front of her, right where it was supposed to be.
You're almost there, Sis. Home free.
Instinct caused her to glance to stern. A sneaker wave slid with deadly intent under the trawler, tilting the stern up high, pointing the trawler straight down.
Kaz swallowed the scream at the back of her throat, waited three seconds for the bow to start back up, counting them off inside her head, then yanked the throttle full open. The Kasmira B's engine growled under the strain, fighting the river current. She felt the full power of the wave catch the boat and heard the roar of the water under the hull as the boat surged forward, surfing the flood. Moments later, the waters smoothed out.
She was across the bar. Braced against the console, she stood with shoulders slumped and head down, gulping air.
Out of the darkness the running lights of a large ship suddenly blinded her, washing bright light across the trawler's decking. "Kasmira B, this is the United States Coast Guard. Prepare to be boarded."
~~~~
Chapter 29
Kaz and Lucy backed up the stairs from the engine room, ahead of the two medics carrying the stretcher with Michael on it. Lucy cursed, her feet slipping on the treads made treacherous by the rocking of the trawler and the spilled gasoline.
Kaz hadn't wanted to let go of Michael's hand, but there wasn't enough room in the galley for two EMTs, the stretcher, and her. She'd had to stand off to the side and watch, terrified, while they pushed plasma into Michael's veins in an attempt to stabilize him.
They'd finally managed to raise his blood pressure and were now preparing him to be airlifted to the hospital. The Coast Guard helicopter hovered overhead, its deafening rotors flattening the waves.
"Creative use of duct tape," Lucy shouted as they moved into the wheelhouse to let the men by. "I'll bet you didn't learn that in that fancy MBA program down in California, did you?"
Kaz tried to smile, but tears leaked out, and suddenly, she was crying again. She'd been crying off and on for the last half hour.
Lucy put both arms around her and held her tight. "He's going to be all right, you know," she said. "You saved his sorry hide by elevating his leg." Then she straightened abruptly, sniffing Kaz and then her own clothes. "Ewww. Do you have gasoline all over you?"
Kaz nodded, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the palms of her hands. "Sykes poured it everywhere, and I had to roll through it to get to the cleaver that I used to cut myself free."
"Dammit! I just bought this jacket—you could've warned me." Lucy's disgust was comical as she surveyed the damage to the camel hair blazer she had on under her life vest. The EMTs had given Kaz a blanket to hug around herself, and it was the only item on her that didn't reek of gasoline and seawater.
"Sykes went overboard." Kaz watched the medics navigate the wildly rocking boats to attach the hooks to the basket in which Michael was lying.
"Probably for the best," Lucy replied. "I don't think this town could've stood the stress of the trial." Then her face crumpled. "God, Kaz. This is all my fault. I was the one who told him everything, including where to find you."
Kaz shook her head. "You couldn't have known."
"I knew there was a dirty cop, but I thought it was Jackson. I never even considered that the chief might also be involved. I blabbed everything to him, trying to get him to hold off on arraigning Gary until we could check out Jackson."
"Jackson was in on it, according to Sykes." Kaz hugged herself. "Gary's okay?"
"He's fine." Lucy started pacing in the cramped space. "The jerk! I ask him to knock me out—just a small tap to my jaw is all it would've taken—but does he do it? No. He uses some kind of Kung Fu crap to put me out for about fifteen minutes. I'll never live it down."
"Gary escaped?" Kaz asked, confused.
Lucy looked embarrassed, then shrugged. "I was worried about him, so I cut him loose."
Kaz started laughing. "You purposely engineered a prisoner's escape."
"Well, shit. What else was I supposed to do?" Lucy glared. "I was afraid—"
"You don't have to explain," Kaz interrupted, snickering. "Really."
"Gary radioed in a little while ago," Lucy added grudgingly. "He and Jacobsen nabbed Svensen, along with the money and drugs as evidence. They're on their way back in. And Ivar is questioning Jackson, to see what his involvement was." Lucy looked even more disgruntled. "So far, this evening is not helping my career. A prisoner escapes on my watch, and then my friends apprehend the bad guys."
"You'll get over it." Kaz patted her shoulder.
One of the EMTs stepped into the doorway of the wheelhouse and crooked a finger at Kaz. "You're going with us. We've got to get that gasoline off you before you have a toxic reaction, and we need to check you out for hypothermia."
Kaz's heart leapt at the thought of being allowed to go in with Michael, but she stayed where she was, shaking her head. "I have to bring the Kasmira B in to port."
"I'll handle her—you go on," Lucy said. "What the heck—it beats filling out paperwork, which is all you guys have left for me to do."
~~~~
Chapter 30
Michael woke up in a hospital room. Machines beeped incessantly, making his head ache. His leg felt like someone had jammed a hot poker into it, then wrapped the poker inside some kind of huge, immobile casing. A bag hung overhead, dripping clear liquid into his left arm, and his other arm wouldn't move.
He slowly angled his head so that he could see what was on his arm. Kaz sat in a chair beside the bed, both her hands wrapped around his right one. Her head lay on their joined hands, and she was sound asleep.
Her hair was a mess, half pulled out of the braid she'd put it in the afternoon before. He could smell a faint odor of gasoline, overlaid by some kind of hospital detoxifying agent. Her face was scrubbed clean, but the purple bruises from Sykes' beatings were a garish contrast to her pale complexion.
Someone had brought her clean clothes—Lucy, probably. She'd obviously gathered them in a hurry. The football jersey Kaz wore was wrinkled, the jeans so ratty they were almost indecent.