Fur Ball Fever

Chapter 31

God's Promise put-putted away from the dock. All hope of outside help died in an acrid cloud of diesel fumes. A chewed-up leg was the least of Grace's problems. Her ankle throbbed in tandem with a chafed wrist, wrenched shoulder, aching jaw, and bruised stomach. She sat still to avoid reminding a Hathaway of her free hand, an oversight they would surely rectify. After a couple of foot-flexes she decided the ankle was merely twisted.

Close enough to touch, Nick sprawled with both hands cuffed, the chain looped over the railing above his head. He hadn't spoken or moved since she'd unpeeled their duct tape and given him an abridged version of her evening under the cover of the engine's roar.

She glanced around to see what their captors were doing. Marcia the Terrible had disappeared downstairs with Pepita. Alone at the helm, Oliver stood tall and proud. He was decked out in nautical regalia and humming Anchors Aweigh.

For the moment, she and Nick had relative privacy. She gave him a cautious stare to assess his anger level. He radiated fury. Not that it mattered because they were about to die.

He must have noticed her glance, because he said, "We don't have much time, and we need to get out of these cuffs."

"Sure thing. I'll start gnawing off my hand." His implacable stare skewered her. "Right. You're angry. I get it. I screwed up tonight. A teensy bit."

"Sweet baby Jesus." He closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain.

A guilty chill chased down her spine. "Okay, it was the dumbest move of my life." If not for her presence on board, Nick would have been long gone, and out of danger.

His breath hissed through his teeth a couple of times. "I don't want to discuss this now. You're going to unlock us."

How could she die with Nick so angry at her? She had to say something to redeem herself in his eyes. She took another stab at reconciliation. "I'm sorry Nick. I really screwed up this time. But if we live, I can lead you to evidence that proves the Hathaways stashed Krissi's body in Oliver's car." She paused to let the information sink in.

After a long silence, he said, "And why, pray tell, would they confess this to you?"

Grace shrugged. "I guess they didn't see me as a threat since they were going to kill me."

"They still are."

As if she needed the reminder. "On the way here, Marcia started bragging about wiping down Krissi's car to remove fingerprints. One thing led to another, and she got on Oliver's case about how he hadn't been as careful. Get this. He still hasn't steam-cleaned his trunk after they used it to transport Krissi's body to the boat so they could dump her. It probably contains some sort of evidence."

After a moment of silence, Nick said, "I guess Marcia drove Krissi's car to Atlantic City, while Oliver followed with the corpse in the trunk of his Cadillac. There should be enough forensic traces to put them both away." He paused. "Anything else?"

"They had a terrible fight. Apparently, Oliver left incriminating evidence on board God's Promise after they dumped the corpse."

"Yeah. Krissi's overnight bag and some files. I hid them." He eyed Oliver. "Look, tell me the rest later. If there is a later, that is." He sounded calmer. "Pull the lock-picking tools from the side of my sneaker."

She breathed out one long, slow exhale. "You carry lock-picking tools?"

His teeth gleamed briefly, but she doubted it was a smile. "Only when I break and enter. Luckily Marcia missed them when she patted me down."