P. Alderman - A Killing Tide

"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.

She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

He must've shifted slightly. She woke with a start, her sleep-softened brown eyes staring into his in momentary confusion. She straightened abruptly. "How do you feel?" Her voice was raspy. "Are you in any pain?"

"I'm okay." Her expression became more anxious, and he smiled to reassure her. "Any chance you can break me out of here any time soon?"

She shook her head, her eyes closing briefly. "I thought I'd lost you."

He reached up to run hand over her hair. The movement caused pain to shoot through his leg, but he needed to touch her. "Same here," he said, his voice gruff. "When I saw Sykes hit you…"

"You saw that?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded. "From Bjorn's boat." That image haunted him and, he suspected, would give him nightmares for some time.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, accurately reading his expression.

"…Chuck?"

"He's still listed as critical, but improving. He lost his spleen and one kidney, but the doctors are hopeful that he'll pull through." She shook her head. "He was trying to protect me."

"It's a good thing that Sykes is dead." Emotion clogged his throat. He cleared it, then said lightly, "Since we've—"

"So you're awake." The voice came from the doorway, interrupting them, and they both turned. Wallace Forbes stood there, looking tired. "May I come in?" the mayor asked, pointing inside the room, clearly not sure of his welcome.

Kaz stood on stiff legs and moved toward the door, giving Michael a small smile. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He shifted, and the fire that traveled up his leg made his vision blur. He gritted his teeth and rode it out. "Where are you going?" he asked, not wanting her to slip away.

"There's someone who's anxious to see you. I'll go get him."

Michael motioned the mayor in. "You used me to flush out Sykes."

Forbes nodded, his eyes somber. "My town was sick, Michael. I had no choice." He put the stack of magazines he'd been holding on the table next to Michael's bed. "When your resume came across my desk, I knew I'd been given my only chance to bring in someone who could take Jim on. But I didn't think you'd have to move so quickly, or that Jim would be clever enough to turn the situation around on the Jorgensens the way he did."

"Kaz damn near got killed." Michael's voice was arctic cold.

Forbes sighed and reached into his pocket for his cigarette case, then realized that he couldn't smoke in the hospital room and grimaced. "I never meant to put her in danger."

"You had to know that she'd do whatever she had to, to protect Gary."

"Yes, but I didn't know he was involved, not until the fire." Forbes shook his head and sighed. "Jim was more ruthless than I gave him credit for."

But Michael wasn't ready to let Forbes off the hook. "Why didn't you tell me about your suspicions that morning after the fire?"

"Because that's all they were—suspicions. I had no proof, and I didn't want to influence your investigation one way or the other."

"No one influences me. You should've said something."

Forbes looked out the window into the hospital parking lot for a minute, considering. Then he turned back, giving a quick nod. "My mistake. But we can move on now, as a community."

Michael pinned him with a hard stare. "If you ever lie to me again—"

"There won't be a need." Forbes frowned. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions on filling my new vacancy in the police department?"

After thinking about it, Michael replied, "I might." In fact, the idea of luring a certain friend out here from Boston had some appeal. He grinned a little, envisioning Mac's reaction to Astoria.

"Good. Have his resume on my desk by next week." Forbes walked to the door, then turned back. "I know you think less of me because of this little affair, and I'm sorry for that. But answer me this, Michael. What's a little manipulation by an old man who wanted to save his town really worth when you stack it up against a chance for personal redemption?"

Michael said nothing.