Hour Game (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 2)

“Michelle, could you hear anything on the phone?”

“Yes, Todd and I are in a boat heading to Sylvia’s right now. We called out everybody.”

“Listen, Eddie’s still got Sylvia. He’s headed to the cove below where the first body was found. Do you know where that is?”

“Yes.”

“I’m heading there in my boat right now.”

Michelle raced to the cockpit with the phone pressed to her ear, grabbed the wheel and plowed the Sea Ray into a thunderous turn, pitching its deck almost perpendicular with the water. Williams fell down again.

“I’m on my way. Ten minutes. We’ll send everybody there. Oh, and Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being alive.”

Eddie aimed the bow right at the ring of red clay that stuck out from the cove he was in, cut power and ran the FasTech right up onto it. He started to open the door to the cabin.

“Okay, Doc, let’s go.”

The stream of fire extinguisher fluid hit him flush in the face. He staggered back and was hit on the head with the canister. Blinded, he grabbed at his face and dropped to his knees. But he sensed Sylvia racing past him, and reached out and tripped her with one of his big arms.

“Get away from me, you bastard, get away from me,” she screamed.

Eddie wiped his face off with his hand, his eyes stinging like crazy. He grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt, lifted her completely up in the air and threw her onto the hard clay shore, where she landed with a thud and lay still.

He opened a storage bin and lifted out the short-handled ax, jumped off the bow, and his feet hit dirt. He waded out into the water and dipped his head below the surface to clean off the crap she had shot him with. He stood, gazed out at the lake and the lightning crackling in the distance, took a deep breath, turned and walked over to her.

“Get up.”

Sylvia said nothing.

“I said get up.” He emphasized this point with a foot in her ribs.

“I think my arm’s broken,” she whimpered.

“Which one?”

“My left.”

He reached down, grabbed her left arm and pulled her up as she shrieked in pain.

“Damn it, you’re killing me, you bastard!”

“That’s right. I am.” He dragged her along into the woods.

King’s boat flew through the water. He glanced behind him and saw the wink of lights about five hundred yards behind. He clicked on his phone, which had somehow survived its dunking in the water.

“Is that you behind me?” he asked.

Michelle answered, “And coming up fast.”

King slowed the boat as he maneuvered into the narrow inlet. As soon as he saw the beached FasTech, he cut his running lights.

“Okay,” he said into the phone, “looks like they’re out of the boat.”

Michelle’s cruiser appeared at the mouth of the inlet. She powered down, cut her lights and coasted into shallow water next to the jet boat.