Carla Neggers - The Harbor

"She's my insurance card."

"It was you on the phone earlier, wasn't it? Not Luke. I thought he sounded funny. What about the kid?"

"I'm not here to answer questions," Stick said.

Zoe tried to make eye contact with Kyle, but he was too frightened to focus on anything. He was rigid, just his teeth chattering slightly. She pushed back a wave of sympathy for him and concentrated on the tactical situation. What could she do?

Without warning, Stick stepped to her left and fired the Colt. Zoe immediately dropped to the ground and rolled, saw Teddy fall backward as he yelled out in pain.

Kyle staggered forward, in shock.

"Kyle, run-take cover," Zoe shouted at him.

He obviously didn't know what she meant and dove face first into the sand, as if that'd protect him. But it was better than standing there.

"No one move," Stick ordered. He stood over Zoe, pointing the gun at her. "I'll shoot you, Zoe. Don't think I won't. I can pull this off with you dead right here, right now."

Zoe went still and sat up in the wet sand. Teddy was shouting obscenities and grabbing his left arm. His gun had gone flying, but she couldn't get to it and didn't know if Kyle could see it. She didn't want him trying for it and getting himself killed.

Stick walked over to him and kicked him in the side. "Up."

Kyle obeyed, his front covered in clumps of gray, wet sand, his face ashen. He looked at Zoe, then turned away as if he was embarrassed by his predicament, or maybe just couldn't watch Stick Monroe shoot her.

"You fucking asshole," Teddy spat at Stick. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Delivering a murderer to the police," Stick said.

" Me? You're going to pin Patrick West's murder on me?" Teddy snorted in disbelief. "How?"

"I have the murder weapon. You, in your zest to own weapons of all kinds, stole it from Luke and intended to kill Kyle with it, but he instead used it to kill you- after you shot him with your own weapon, mortally wounding him. You'll both be dead, but the evidence will tell the story."

"You'll never pull it off," Teddy said, "not with DNA, blood spattering, all that forensic shit they have nowadays."

"You forget that I'm familiar with all of it."

"What about Zoe?" Kyle asked hoarsely. "What are you going to do with her?"

Zoe was wondering the same thing. But she knew. Stick was going to use her as a hostage to ensure his getaway. Then he'd tie a brick to her feet and dump her in the ocean.

That was what Stick was going to do with her.

He was just smart enough, arrogant enough, to think such a complicated plan, contingent on so much going his way, would work.

"Stick," she said.

"Don't try your negotiating skills on me, Zoe. You never made it to the academy, remember? You quit. You ran away."

Even now, knowing what he'd done, the contempt of this man she'd known and loved for so long stung. She had to steel herself against the affection and respect she'd had for him. Child porn. Extortion. Blackmail. Murder. He'd been living a lie for a long time.

"Screw this," Teddy said, and dove for his gun.

Stick shot him again, hitting him in the thigh but giving Zoe a split second to go for Teddy's gun herself.

But Kyle rolled between her and the.380, and that was that. Stick grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to her feet, sticking the Colt against her ear. "Always so full of yourself."

Kyle surprised her and scooped up Teddy's gun. He was shaking and clearly had no idea what to do now that he had it.

"You can't hold off Teddy and me both," Stick said. "Teddy wants to get the hell out of here, don't you, Teddy?"

Zoe thought Teddy wanted to kill Stick, but she let the judge think he'd succeed in manipulating him again.

"Don't do anything stupid, Kyle," Stick said. "I have a gun to Zoe's head. You know I'll shoot her even if you shoot me. A simple matter of reflexes. And if you take me on, you risk giving Teddy his opening. Don't you think he wants his gun back? If he gets it, you're dead. So if I were you, I'd point that gun at Teddy and let me go."

Kyle was sobbing. "Zoe…"

"Stick's right," she said gently, calmly. "Hold the gun on Shelton. Someone heard those shots. The police must be on their way. Stick won't get far with me."

Kyle nodded, crying openly now. He turned and redirected the gun at Teddy, who'd sunk back onto the beach, holding his bleeding thigh.

Keeping the gun leveled at her head, Stick marched Zoe back to the Zodiac. He left her no opening this time. Even when he pushed the boat back out into the water and climbed in, he managed to keep the gun on her.

The boat jerked and bucked as he got it up to speed.

The fog was thick now, and Zoe doubted Kyle could even see them ten yards out from shore. He wouldn't be able to tell the tac unit which direction Stick had taken her.

"On your stomach," Stick ordered.

"If you shoot me, J.B. will hunt you to the ends of the earth. He likes that sort of thing."

"Do as I say, Zoe, or I will shoot you."

She turned over onto her stomach on the boat's wet bottom. He used a length of rope to tie her hands behind her back, then his web belt to tie her feet together.

"I should have done this to begin with," he said.

"I would have."

He ignored her gibe. "You don't think I can get out of this, do you? I'd have preferred plan A. It would have made everyone happy. The police, the town and the West family all would have their killer. I could go back to my garden and resume my life there. It's all I ever wanted, you know. A simple life in Goose Harbor."

"With your kiddie porn."

He inhaled sharply, but said nothing.

"You were shocked my father was on to you, weren't you? You wanted him dead, for the insult of it." She remembered to control her breathing, tried to keep her muscles relaxed, her hands and feet from swelling against their binds. "You thought you were better and smarter and more worldly, and you assumed you could get away with your games right under his nose. You couldn't. He found out."

"Moral superiority will get you nowhere, Zoe." He sneered at her, and she recognized his arrogance now for what it was-a cover for everything he wasn't. "You're trussed up like the proverbial Christmas goose."

She managed to sit up in the bottom of the boat. She could smell the fog, its dampness seeping into her. Gulls, ubiquitous to the shore, cried in the grayness. Her father hadn't died in the fog. He'd died on a beautiful, cloudless morning.

"I don't owe anyone anything," Stick said, as if he were talking to himself.

"Yes, you do. You owe a debt to society for killing a police officer in the performance of his duty."

Stick lurched suddenly and kicked her in the stomach. She moaned, doubling over in pain. She hadn't taken a kick like that since training for the state police.

"Don't you dare talk to me about debts to society. Do you know how many people I've had go through my courtroom in my life? Criminals. Lowlifes. Scum. Dirtbags. Sociopaths, drug addicts, alcoholics, murderers, terrorists-" "Pedophiles?"

He kicked her again.

"Go ahead. Keep kicking me. Give yourself a heart attack. You're not young anymore, Stick. How many more years do you think you have?"

This time he ignored her. They were on the northwest shore of Sutherland Island. She saw the rocks where she and J.B. had taken their break. She thought of him among his ancestors' tombstones, touching their names as he must have tried to absorb their connection to him.

She remembered what he'd said about the boathouse with the new lock. She stared up at Stick. "You've got another boat."

He didn't deny it. "Didn't you think I had a contingency plan? I've had a year, Zoe. A quick change of appearance, a new boat-I'll be long gone before anyone even realizes I have you." He eased back on the speed, taking the Zodiac around a rocky point, toward the boathouse. "Zoe, I want a simple life. The bad times are over for me. My trip to the dark side. Now I'm back."