Sara Thacker's Blog: Red Skhye In Morning, page 10
June 23, 2011
Chapter 12: Part 3
Bill pulled the phone from his pocket and pushed the on button, not even caring who was dogging him. "Rowland here."
"Bill, it's time for you to come home."
His boss, great. Not only was he close to finding the bastard who had done this, but he might be able to stop the guy from taking another girl. "Why?"
"This wild goose chase you're on is wasting time and money. And don't say you're taking care of the bill, I know that. I need you here."
"I'm close to solving this."
"You can solve it from home."
"No I can't."
"Agent Rowland. This isn't a suggestion, it's an order."
"You come how now. We'll put someone else on the case and let them find the guy, but you are coming home now."
"Why? Is this because I'm loaded and the guys are complaining? Why do I get to spend the week on a tropical island when the other guys have to make do in crappy town."
"Catch the next plane."
"No."
"What?" Banks roared.
"Give me three days to close this up. It makes no sense to send someone else when I'm already here."
"It doesn't have to make sense, it's the FBI."
"Damn it, Banks, I'm close."
"Two days, including today. That means tomorrow. And by tomorrow I mean I want you back in your office before close of day."
"Fine, but if I find the guy I need to stay here and finish it off."
"Deal."
Bill punched end a little too hard on his phone. He wished he could toss the damn thing into the ocean and forget all the politics and crap involved in being a part of the agency.
His phone buzzed, indicating that he had a voice mail. He checked his display. Amanda had called. He should pick up the message but he didn't. She could wait, especially if she wanted to tell him to buzz off.
He could no more buzz off than he could let her attacker go without trying to find the bastard. He could ignore her message for a few hours. Right now he needed to spend the next few hours tracking down every lead he had on Sam.
He couldn't believe that the Sam he knew was capable of this, but people change. His wife was the perfect example of people changing. She'd gone from the perfect companion to share his life with to a crazed maniac who took advantage of everyone.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
"Bill, it's time for you to come home."
His boss, great. Not only was he close to finding the bastard who had done this, but he might be able to stop the guy from taking another girl. "Why?"
"This wild goose chase you're on is wasting time and money. And don't say you're taking care of the bill, I know that. I need you here."
"I'm close to solving this."
"You can solve it from home."
"No I can't."
"Agent Rowland. This isn't a suggestion, it's an order."
"You come how now. We'll put someone else on the case and let them find the guy, but you are coming home now."
"Why? Is this because I'm loaded and the guys are complaining? Why do I get to spend the week on a tropical island when the other guys have to make do in crappy town."
"Catch the next plane."
"No."
"What?" Banks roared.
"Give me three days to close this up. It makes no sense to send someone else when I'm already here."
"It doesn't have to make sense, it's the FBI."
"Damn it, Banks, I'm close."
"Two days, including today. That means tomorrow. And by tomorrow I mean I want you back in your office before close of day."
"Fine, but if I find the guy I need to stay here and finish it off."
"Deal."
Bill punched end a little too hard on his phone. He wished he could toss the damn thing into the ocean and forget all the politics and crap involved in being a part of the agency.
His phone buzzed, indicating that he had a voice mail. He checked his display. Amanda had called. He should pick up the message but he didn't. She could wait, especially if she wanted to tell him to buzz off.
He could no more buzz off than he could let her attacker go without trying to find the bastard. He could ignore her message for a few hours. Right now he needed to spend the next few hours tracking down every lead he had on Sam.
He couldn't believe that the Sam he knew was capable of this, but people change. His wife was the perfect example of people changing. She'd gone from the perfect companion to share his life with to a crazed maniac who took advantage of everyone.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 22, 2011
Midsummer's Eve Blog Hop Giveaway
Over 160 participating blogs are offering a book related giveaway and we are all linked up together so you can easily hop from one giveaway to another. The hop runs from June 21st through June 24th.
Today I'm giving away a copy of Murder Stalks
When young women start dying, lead detective Tony Santos is drawn into a web of deceit and revenge that forces him out of the police department and directly into the sights of the killer. His wife walked out, and he's glad for that fact after a dead body winds up in his bed. Now he needs Marissa more than ever, but she's got her defenses up and his charm isn't working on her.
Marissa has never been physically strong, but threats to her personal safety force her to prepare for a fight. She hires a personal trainer to help her get in shape. But can Marissa get her emotions in shape and stop her overwhelming desire for Tony? He's too close for comfort but her body begs to differ. She wants him but living in a small hotel room with Tony may prove to be more dangerous than the murders happening close to home
Come back each day to read more of Red Skye in Morning.
Giveaway Details:
To enter giveaway please follow this blog then fill out the form below.
Last Day to Enter is 6/24/11
Optional Extra Entries:
+1 Be or become my friend on Goodreads
+1 Follow on Twitter
+1 Become a Facebook friend
Midsummer Eve Blog Hop
Loading...
Today I'm giving away a copy of Murder Stalks
When young women start dying, lead detective Tony Santos is drawn into a web of deceit and revenge that forces him out of the police department and directly into the sights of the killer. His wife walked out, and he's glad for that fact after a dead body winds up in his bed. Now he needs Marissa more than ever, but she's got her defenses up and his charm isn't working on her.Marissa has never been physically strong, but threats to her personal safety force her to prepare for a fight. She hires a personal trainer to help her get in shape. But can Marissa get her emotions in shape and stop her overwhelming desire for Tony? He's too close for comfort but her body begs to differ. She wants him but living in a small hotel room with Tony may prove to be more dangerous than the murders happening close to home
Come back each day to read more of Red Skye in Morning.
Giveaway Details:
To enter giveaway please follow this blog then fill out the form below.
Last Day to Enter is 6/24/11
Optional Extra Entries:
+1 Be or become my friend on Goodreads
+1 Follow on Twitter
+1 Become a Facebook friend
Midsummer Eve Blog Hop
Loading...
Chapter 12: Part 2
The elevator doors opened and in stepped the most powerful man in America. He could make her career or break it depending on how this elevator ride went. It was a plus that he was good looking too. If he'd been one of those fat cat record producers then this part of her plan would have sucked.
Pimping herself for money sucked, but what the hell. Actresses did it all the time.
Amanda stepped into the lift and held back her smile of triumphed as the doors slid closed. They were alone, the only way this would work.
She did her best to sound breathless and needy. "Hello Mr. Taylor."
His gaze slid down her body. She'd worn a skimpy outfit, something that would turn his head and keep his interest.
After she knew he had taken a long look and liked what he saw she turned towards him. Now or never. If she failed she'd be stuck signing in bars. "I've got a proposition."
"Everyone does, how different is yours?"
"I can make you money."
His eyes lit up as he licked his lips. "How much?"
"Just depends on what you're willing to give." A sickening feeling rolled through her. She was going to throw-up. Even with his good looks she hated pimping herself, but going from the bar scene to top record label took work. She reached up and let her fingers slide down his face.
He changed in front of her eyes. No longer was the face the same. The eyes were menacing, the eyebrows pinched together in anger. The mouth cruel and his cheeks not as smooth. He opened his mouth and clamped down on her cheek. She screamed.
Amanda bolted upright, her breath coming in gasps. She heard the electronic beep surrounding her. The scent of antiseptic and floor cleaner hit her. The white walls were devoid of any pictures.
She sank back onto the bed and let the tears come. Her life had changed so much from that naive little girl who sang in the bars to the songbird princess she became. And now this. She held her arms up, disgusted by the damage the sun had inflicted.
No longer was her skin a light golden brown, now it was splotchy and leathery. Like she'd aged fifteen to twenty years over night. The doctors had tried to talk to her about the possibilities of melanoma but she'd blew them off. Eventually she'd have to hear about how bad it could get, but not now.
Her speaking voice had returned but she'd yet tried to sing. The fear was the worst. What if she could never sing again? The stage had been her life since the age of eleven. She worked hard to go from church choir to center stage. The circus of the song business had taken its toll, but nothing like the last three weeks.
As far as she knew word wasn't out about her being found. The hospital staff had been able to function without hiring a police presence. When word broke she knew it would get crazy. The doctors said she'd probably able to leave the hospital in a few days. Maybe moving to a hotel would match time with the news that she'd survived.
It had been a few days since she'd really looked into a mirror. She'd caught her reflection once or twice by accident but looked away as soon as possible. The thought of actually going in front of cameras terrified her. The Sun, the Globe and the Enquirer would rip her to shreds.
With shaky steps she made her way to the bathroom. The overly bright lighting in the small space wouldn't do her any favors, but she had to know how bad off she was.
She pulled the door open and stood in the door jam for two whole minutes before she stepped into the bathroom. The light switch was next. She held onto the little white nub for a long time before actually flipping the thing, letting light flood into every nook.
Four deep breaths gave her the strength to step into the room, but she still couldn't look into the mirror. She heard someone in her room and she flipped off the light, not wanting the harshness of the florescence to highlight her flaws.
Her heart jumped when she saw Bill. She gasped and he looked directly at her, his eyebrows raised.
"Let me guess, you were looking at yourself in the mirror."
"What are you, psychic?"
"No, just observant." He came over to the bathroom and flipped the light switch back on.
"No, please no. I can't."
"You are beautiful, Amanda. No one can take that away from you."
"But the sun damage, the cuts. I'm ruined."
"No, you are not." He turned her towards the mirror and stood behind her, supporting her with his solid frame. Her head fit under his chin, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"I can't."
"With my help you can."
"But what if I'm ugly."
He spun her around, his finger on her chin. She couldn't hold his gaze for long, but she didn't want to look away either.
He stepped closer to her, his feet apart, his hips plastered against her. She felt every inch of his body cocooning her. "You are beautiful. I'm enthralled with you." He bent his head, his gaze locked onto hers. "I'm going to kiss you, not because of who you were but because you are."
Her entire body quaked as his lips came down on hers. The first few seconds he was soft and gentle, sliding his soft lips against hers. Then he crushed her to him, his tongue teasing her lips open. The blood rushed from her head and she wondered if she could stand on her own.
She couldn't tell how long the kiss lasted or when it ended, all she knew was Bill held her tight, his lips kissing the top of his head.
"I don't know what came over me. I just wanted to kiss you, had to kiss you."
"It was wonderful."
"I don't want to take advantage of you. I'm an FBI agent and if I become more right now it will mess up the case. I don't want an arrest to be invalidated because I couldn't keep my hands to myself."
"You aren't taking advantage of me. If anything I'm taking advantage of you."
"I'm married."
She pushed back, horrified to be the other woman. "You would cheat on your wife."
"It's wrong. I know it's wrong. She followed me here and demanded I drop your case."
"What do you mean? You didn't have a thing for me before did you?"
"No, although I do love your music. She has issues and hates the FBI. When I said no she went off and shacked up with another guy. I won't be the type of guy that does the tit for tat thing."
"So where does that leave you with that kiss you just gave me?"
"I'm weak. I know I'm weak and I just wanted to kiss you. It was selfish of me to want you when I can't give you what you deserve right now."
She scoffed and pushed past him, tired of the whole thing. "What do you know of what I need?"
"I'm sorry, Amanda. I'm attracted to you, I won't lie about that. I also won't act on that attraction until this case is over."
"What if I don't want you?"
"If you can look me in the eye after all of this is over and tell me you don't want to see me then I'll leave and never bug you again."
"You're confident."
"I don't mean to be cocky, I just want a chance."
"This is wrong. What if I can't give you what you want?"
"I'm a very patient man. I need to go take care of some stuff. I'll be back later."
He backed out of the room, letting the door shut behind him. Damn, she'd forgotten the dream and the faces. What had it all meant? She plopped down on the chair trying to remember each detail. Her stomach twisted as she thought about the two faces she saw. Oh God, she'd told the sketch artist to draw the wrong man. She had to call Bill.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
Pimping herself for money sucked, but what the hell. Actresses did it all the time.
Amanda stepped into the lift and held back her smile of triumphed as the doors slid closed. They were alone, the only way this would work.
She did her best to sound breathless and needy. "Hello Mr. Taylor."
His gaze slid down her body. She'd worn a skimpy outfit, something that would turn his head and keep his interest.
After she knew he had taken a long look and liked what he saw she turned towards him. Now or never. If she failed she'd be stuck signing in bars. "I've got a proposition."
"Everyone does, how different is yours?"
"I can make you money."
His eyes lit up as he licked his lips. "How much?"
"Just depends on what you're willing to give." A sickening feeling rolled through her. She was going to throw-up. Even with his good looks she hated pimping herself, but going from the bar scene to top record label took work. She reached up and let her fingers slide down his face.
He changed in front of her eyes. No longer was the face the same. The eyes were menacing, the eyebrows pinched together in anger. The mouth cruel and his cheeks not as smooth. He opened his mouth and clamped down on her cheek. She screamed.
Amanda bolted upright, her breath coming in gasps. She heard the electronic beep surrounding her. The scent of antiseptic and floor cleaner hit her. The white walls were devoid of any pictures.
She sank back onto the bed and let the tears come. Her life had changed so much from that naive little girl who sang in the bars to the songbird princess she became. And now this. She held her arms up, disgusted by the damage the sun had inflicted.
No longer was her skin a light golden brown, now it was splotchy and leathery. Like she'd aged fifteen to twenty years over night. The doctors had tried to talk to her about the possibilities of melanoma but she'd blew them off. Eventually she'd have to hear about how bad it could get, but not now.
Her speaking voice had returned but she'd yet tried to sing. The fear was the worst. What if she could never sing again? The stage had been her life since the age of eleven. She worked hard to go from church choir to center stage. The circus of the song business had taken its toll, but nothing like the last three weeks.
As far as she knew word wasn't out about her being found. The hospital staff had been able to function without hiring a police presence. When word broke she knew it would get crazy. The doctors said she'd probably able to leave the hospital in a few days. Maybe moving to a hotel would match time with the news that she'd survived.
It had been a few days since she'd really looked into a mirror. She'd caught her reflection once or twice by accident but looked away as soon as possible. The thought of actually going in front of cameras terrified her. The Sun, the Globe and the Enquirer would rip her to shreds.
With shaky steps she made her way to the bathroom. The overly bright lighting in the small space wouldn't do her any favors, but she had to know how bad off she was.
She pulled the door open and stood in the door jam for two whole minutes before she stepped into the bathroom. The light switch was next. She held onto the little white nub for a long time before actually flipping the thing, letting light flood into every nook.
Four deep breaths gave her the strength to step into the room, but she still couldn't look into the mirror. She heard someone in her room and she flipped off the light, not wanting the harshness of the florescence to highlight her flaws.
Her heart jumped when she saw Bill. She gasped and he looked directly at her, his eyebrows raised.
"Let me guess, you were looking at yourself in the mirror."
"What are you, psychic?"
"No, just observant." He came over to the bathroom and flipped the light switch back on.
"No, please no. I can't."
"You are beautiful, Amanda. No one can take that away from you."
"But the sun damage, the cuts. I'm ruined."
"No, you are not." He turned her towards the mirror and stood behind her, supporting her with his solid frame. Her head fit under his chin, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"I can't."
"With my help you can."
"But what if I'm ugly."
He spun her around, his finger on her chin. She couldn't hold his gaze for long, but she didn't want to look away either.
He stepped closer to her, his feet apart, his hips plastered against her. She felt every inch of his body cocooning her. "You are beautiful. I'm enthralled with you." He bent his head, his gaze locked onto hers. "I'm going to kiss you, not because of who you were but because you are."
Her entire body quaked as his lips came down on hers. The first few seconds he was soft and gentle, sliding his soft lips against hers. Then he crushed her to him, his tongue teasing her lips open. The blood rushed from her head and she wondered if she could stand on her own.
She couldn't tell how long the kiss lasted or when it ended, all she knew was Bill held her tight, his lips kissing the top of his head.
"I don't know what came over me. I just wanted to kiss you, had to kiss you."
"It was wonderful."
"I don't want to take advantage of you. I'm an FBI agent and if I become more right now it will mess up the case. I don't want an arrest to be invalidated because I couldn't keep my hands to myself."
"You aren't taking advantage of me. If anything I'm taking advantage of you."
"I'm married."
She pushed back, horrified to be the other woman. "You would cheat on your wife."
"It's wrong. I know it's wrong. She followed me here and demanded I drop your case."
"What do you mean? You didn't have a thing for me before did you?"
"No, although I do love your music. She has issues and hates the FBI. When I said no she went off and shacked up with another guy. I won't be the type of guy that does the tit for tat thing."
"So where does that leave you with that kiss you just gave me?"
"I'm weak. I know I'm weak and I just wanted to kiss you. It was selfish of me to want you when I can't give you what you deserve right now."
She scoffed and pushed past him, tired of the whole thing. "What do you know of what I need?"
"I'm sorry, Amanda. I'm attracted to you, I won't lie about that. I also won't act on that attraction until this case is over."
"What if I don't want you?"
"If you can look me in the eye after all of this is over and tell me you don't want to see me then I'll leave and never bug you again."
"You're confident."
"I don't mean to be cocky, I just want a chance."
"This is wrong. What if I can't give you what you want?"
"I'm a very patient man. I need to go take care of some stuff. I'll be back later."
He backed out of the room, letting the door shut behind him. Damn, she'd forgotten the dream and the faces. What had it all meant? She plopped down on the chair trying to remember each detail. Her stomach twisted as she thought about the two faces she saw. Oh God, she'd told the sketch artist to draw the wrong man. She had to call Bill.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 21, 2011
Midsummer's Eve Blog Hop Giveaway
Over 160 participating blogs are offering a book related giveaway and we are all linked up together so you can easily hop from one giveaway to another. The hop runs from June 21st through June 24th.
Today I'm giving away a copy of Murder Stalks
When young women start dying, lead detective Tony Santos is drawn into a web of deceit and revenge that forces him out of the police department and directly into the sights of the killer. His wife walked out, and he's glad for that fact after a dead body winds up in his bed. Now he needs Marissa more than ever, but she's got her defenses up and his charm isn't working on her.
Marissa has never been physically strong, but threats to her personal safety force her to prepare for a fight. She hires a personal trainer to help her get in shape. But can Marissa get her emotions in shape and stop her overwhelming desire for Tony? He's too close for comfort but her body begs to differ. She wants him but living in a small hotel room with Tony may prove to be more dangerous than the murders happening close to home
Come back each day to read more of Red Skye in Morning.
Giveaway Details:
To enter giveaway please follow this blog then fill out the form below.
Last Day to Enter is 6/24/11
Optional Extra Entries:
+1 Be or become my friend on Goodreads
+1 Follow on Twitter
+1 Become a Facebook friend
Midsummer Eve Blog Hop
Loading...
Today I'm giving away a copy of Murder Stalks
When young women start dying, lead detective Tony Santos is drawn into a web of deceit and revenge that forces him out of the police department and directly into the sights of the killer. His wife walked out, and he's glad for that fact after a dead body winds up in his bed. Now he needs Marissa more than ever, but she's got her defenses up and his charm isn't working on her.Marissa has never been physically strong, but threats to her personal safety force her to prepare for a fight. She hires a personal trainer to help her get in shape. But can Marissa get her emotions in shape and stop her overwhelming desire for Tony? He's too close for comfort but her body begs to differ. She wants him but living in a small hotel room with Tony may prove to be more dangerous than the murders happening close to home
Come back each day to read more of Red Skye in Morning.
Giveaway Details:
To enter giveaway please follow this blog then fill out the form below.
Last Day to Enter is 6/24/11
Optional Extra Entries:
+1 Be or become my friend on Goodreads
+1 Follow on Twitter
+1 Become a Facebook friend
Midsummer Eve Blog Hop
Loading...
Chapter 12: Part 1
Delanie half dragged, half led Sam back to the lagoon. At least the dinghy was tied to the little dock otherwise she'd never get him out to the sailboat.
He'd protested once, but the lack of energy on his part meant lack of conviction on hers. They wouldn't be going back to finish the guy off. She didn't want to die and she couldn't let Sam die.
"Sam, step down into the boat."
He groaned in response but she got no cooperation from him. She guided him to sit on the dock then she jumped into the dinghy, praying that Sam wouldn't fall into the water.
With as much force as she could muster, Delanie pulled Sam off the dock and into the small boat. The little dinghy rocked almost spilling them into the water. Sam couldn't swim in the condition he was in and she had no clue how the hell she would pull him up onto the sailboat. Maybe she could just leave him in the dinghy, but her knowledge of sailboats was non-existent. She'd never even faked it for a movie. If it were up to her to get them out of this lagoon she'd lose.
She untied the rope at the dock and shoved off. Maybe a little water would help Sam wake, but did she have time to stop and tend to him. She pointed the dinghy out to the sailboat. The water offered a small buffer of time, but the guy would probably be able to swim out to them. She'd clocked the guy upside the head, but she hadn't disabled him for good.
Once at the sailboat Delanie stood in the dinghy and grabbed onto the sailboat. She took the rope and tied a quick knot. At least now Sam wouldn't float away on the dinghy.
How the hell would she get him aboard? The sailboat deck was a few feet above the belly of the dinghy where Sam lay sprawled out. The situation would only be made worse by a storm, or if that guy showed up. Or both.
She checked out the sky, glad to see that weather wouldn't be a problem. The sun was setting and might slow them down, but Sam would know what to do with the sailboat in the dark. If only Sam would come around.
She had to get him moving. It would be cruel to poor water over his head, but that was all she could think would work. She reached down into the lagoon, cupped her hands and brought up as much water as her hands could hold. When the water hit Sam's face nothing happened. It always worked in the movies but she knew most everything in the movies was faked, this was just another thing that didn't work. Or maybe he was just a little more out of it than she though.
Any moment that guy could arrive at the lagoon, ruining any chance she had of escaping. Sam had to wake up now. Without hesitating she bent down and planted her lips against his. He stirred, moving ever so slightly. She ran her tongue along his lips, praying that the stimulation would jar him.
He moaned, opening his mouth. She slid her tongue between his lips. He tensed. Her hands strayed down his chest to his belly, when her fingers dipped below his waistband he moved. His fingers clenched her wrist. She pulled back, glad to see his eyes open even if they weren't focused.
"Sam you have to get moving."
"Hold on honey."
"Snap out of it, that guy is out there."
"Guy?" He sat up holding his head and wiping his hand down his face.
"Sam, get on your sailboat. I can't pull you up, you're too big."
"Sailboat."
"Damn it." Delanie dipped her hands into the water again and splashed some up into his face.
"Hey, what the hell was that for?"
"The guy in the house, he tried to kill us, we need to get out of here."
Sam shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his thoughts. What the hell had happened? Last thing he remembered was trying to fight off that crazy man. He looked around again. Somehow Delanie had carried him down the small hill to the lagoon, dragged him into the dinghy and steered them out to the sailboat.
He grabbed her face between both hands and kissed her. Pain erupted somewhere behind his eyes but he didn't care. She'd saved them. Without much success he stood then toppled down into the bottom of the little boat. "Crap, help me get in."
Delanie held him steady as he went from crawling to kneeling and finally climbing into the sailboat.
"What about this thing?" Delanie pointed to the gray dinghy she still sat in?
"Move it around to the back of the sailboat and tie a secure knot. We'll pull it until I can store the thing properly."
He tried to walk along to the deck to the front of the sailboat and almost fell overboard. Delanie would have to help him. He hated being weak like this, but he'd also never been hit like that guy hit.
"Delanie."
"What?"
"You done?"
"Yeah, am now."
"I need your help. Come up here. We have to get the sails up and I need your help pulling the anchor."
Thank God he'd actually untied the lines mooring him to the trees earlier. He doubted that they would be able to make it off the island if he hadn't of prepped the boat.
Delanie walked up and grabbed onto his shoulder. Her touch gave him strength. He felt better, much better. If only he could stand without feeling the entire world wobbling. "I need you to help me."
"Anything."
"Please help me wind up the anchor. I'll sit here and untie the sails."
She worked faster then he could even process. Before he could get the first sail untied she'd weighed the anchor and was helping him with the other sail.
She kept asking questions and he answered them as best as he could. They were moving out of the lagoon, her at the wheel. At some point he'd found a place to sit beside her. She asked and he answered, they worked together to form a pretty good team as far as he could determine.
They were clear of the island and his head cleared a bit. "Where are we?"
"Do you mean are we on your sail boat, or coordinates?"
"Coordinates."
"I'm not sure, but I'm trying to stay clear of land."
"You're doing great. I'm starting to feel better. Did I take an aspirin yet?"
"I gave you a pain killer before we left the lagoon."
"We need to drop the anchor tonight. It's too hard to sail here at night. Sandbars pop up all the time. I'll use the radio to call the authorities. Someone will meet us here in the morning."
"Okay. Does that mean we need to drop the sails."
He looked back over his shoulder, he could still see the island but it was a dot far behind them.
He told her what lines to pull, where to stand and what to touch. Delanie worked like an expert. "Have you done this before?"
"No, first time."
Impossible. It was like she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. After they had weighed anchor and everything else was done she plopped down on the deck beside him.
"Honey, you are either one of the best actors I've ever seen or you've done this before."
In the dim light of the crescent moon he could see a smile curve her lips making her cheeks plump out. "Thank you."
"What?"
"I am a damn good actress."
"Okay, I stepped into that one, but it was like you knew what you were doing."
"I'm a fast study. Have to be to act. Do we need to worry about anything hitting us?"
"No, we're out of the shipping lanes. We can turn on the lights so something smaller doesn't hit us."
"You don't think our little visitor back at the island will see them?"
"He might see our lights, but he doesn't have a boat. At least I don't think he did. It'll take him a while even if he has one hidden on the island."
"You sure about that?"
"Let's sleep up here tonight. That way we'll here any boats approaching."
Delanie grabbed his hand and squeezed, "I'll go down and get some blankets."
"No, you stay here. I need to go below anyways to use the radio. I'll grab the pillows and blankets. I know where they are anyways."
Sam worked his way down the stairs. His head still swam with pain bringing in a level of confusion he wasn't used to operating with. If the bastard attacked them tonight he probably wouldn't be able to defend them.
Maybe they should push on, but the number of sandbars in the area were too many for a novice to sail through at night, and his vision hadn't cleared enough to be of much help.
They should have put out an emergency call to the authorities earlier, but being free from the island and the man hell bent on killing them had been top priority. Sam flipped the switch on the front of the radio, nothing happened.
An icy cold swept over his body. He flipped the switch again. The radio was broke. The air in the small cabin grew thick, his lungs stilled. His brain grew fuzzy.
Sam pulled the radio out from the cubbyhole. No power line and the batteries had been taken. How? The guy must have come aboard and done the damage. The boom vang had been cut. The rope thrown overboard. The radio disabled. What else could be wrong?
He searched for more batteries but couldn't find any extra. Truthfully he had needed to make a supply run, but he could have sworn that he had extra batteries.
They needed to get help and alert the authorities. Sam stood, his knees wobbled and gave out. He sank to the ground, his head going fuzzy. He was in no shape to sail in the dark and Delanie didn't have the experience.
Hopefully they'd wake in the morning to smooth sailing and no stalkers. Tomorrow they'd make it to the main island and report the crime. He'd restock the boat and then he could take Delanie to another island. They could start up where they left off, only this time they'd be free of stalkers and other prying eyes.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
He'd protested once, but the lack of energy on his part meant lack of conviction on hers. They wouldn't be going back to finish the guy off. She didn't want to die and she couldn't let Sam die.
"Sam, step down into the boat."
He groaned in response but she got no cooperation from him. She guided him to sit on the dock then she jumped into the dinghy, praying that Sam wouldn't fall into the water.
With as much force as she could muster, Delanie pulled Sam off the dock and into the small boat. The little dinghy rocked almost spilling them into the water. Sam couldn't swim in the condition he was in and she had no clue how the hell she would pull him up onto the sailboat. Maybe she could just leave him in the dinghy, but her knowledge of sailboats was non-existent. She'd never even faked it for a movie. If it were up to her to get them out of this lagoon she'd lose.
She untied the rope at the dock and shoved off. Maybe a little water would help Sam wake, but did she have time to stop and tend to him. She pointed the dinghy out to the sailboat. The water offered a small buffer of time, but the guy would probably be able to swim out to them. She'd clocked the guy upside the head, but she hadn't disabled him for good.
Once at the sailboat Delanie stood in the dinghy and grabbed onto the sailboat. She took the rope and tied a quick knot. At least now Sam wouldn't float away on the dinghy.
How the hell would she get him aboard? The sailboat deck was a few feet above the belly of the dinghy where Sam lay sprawled out. The situation would only be made worse by a storm, or if that guy showed up. Or both.
She checked out the sky, glad to see that weather wouldn't be a problem. The sun was setting and might slow them down, but Sam would know what to do with the sailboat in the dark. If only Sam would come around.
She had to get him moving. It would be cruel to poor water over his head, but that was all she could think would work. She reached down into the lagoon, cupped her hands and brought up as much water as her hands could hold. When the water hit Sam's face nothing happened. It always worked in the movies but she knew most everything in the movies was faked, this was just another thing that didn't work. Or maybe he was just a little more out of it than she though.
Any moment that guy could arrive at the lagoon, ruining any chance she had of escaping. Sam had to wake up now. Without hesitating she bent down and planted her lips against his. He stirred, moving ever so slightly. She ran her tongue along his lips, praying that the stimulation would jar him.
He moaned, opening his mouth. She slid her tongue between his lips. He tensed. Her hands strayed down his chest to his belly, when her fingers dipped below his waistband he moved. His fingers clenched her wrist. She pulled back, glad to see his eyes open even if they weren't focused.
"Sam you have to get moving."
"Hold on honey."
"Snap out of it, that guy is out there."
"Guy?" He sat up holding his head and wiping his hand down his face.
"Sam, get on your sailboat. I can't pull you up, you're too big."
"Sailboat."
"Damn it." Delanie dipped her hands into the water again and splashed some up into his face.
"Hey, what the hell was that for?"
"The guy in the house, he tried to kill us, we need to get out of here."
Sam shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his thoughts. What the hell had happened? Last thing he remembered was trying to fight off that crazy man. He looked around again. Somehow Delanie had carried him down the small hill to the lagoon, dragged him into the dinghy and steered them out to the sailboat.
He grabbed her face between both hands and kissed her. Pain erupted somewhere behind his eyes but he didn't care. She'd saved them. Without much success he stood then toppled down into the bottom of the little boat. "Crap, help me get in."
Delanie held him steady as he went from crawling to kneeling and finally climbing into the sailboat.
"What about this thing?" Delanie pointed to the gray dinghy she still sat in?
"Move it around to the back of the sailboat and tie a secure knot. We'll pull it until I can store the thing properly."
He tried to walk along to the deck to the front of the sailboat and almost fell overboard. Delanie would have to help him. He hated being weak like this, but he'd also never been hit like that guy hit.
"Delanie."
"What?"
"You done?"
"Yeah, am now."
"I need your help. Come up here. We have to get the sails up and I need your help pulling the anchor."
Thank God he'd actually untied the lines mooring him to the trees earlier. He doubted that they would be able to make it off the island if he hadn't of prepped the boat.
Delanie walked up and grabbed onto his shoulder. Her touch gave him strength. He felt better, much better. If only he could stand without feeling the entire world wobbling. "I need you to help me."
"Anything."
"Please help me wind up the anchor. I'll sit here and untie the sails."
She worked faster then he could even process. Before he could get the first sail untied she'd weighed the anchor and was helping him with the other sail.
She kept asking questions and he answered them as best as he could. They were moving out of the lagoon, her at the wheel. At some point he'd found a place to sit beside her. She asked and he answered, they worked together to form a pretty good team as far as he could determine.
They were clear of the island and his head cleared a bit. "Where are we?"
"Do you mean are we on your sail boat, or coordinates?"
"Coordinates."
"I'm not sure, but I'm trying to stay clear of land."
"You're doing great. I'm starting to feel better. Did I take an aspirin yet?"
"I gave you a pain killer before we left the lagoon."
"We need to drop the anchor tonight. It's too hard to sail here at night. Sandbars pop up all the time. I'll use the radio to call the authorities. Someone will meet us here in the morning."
"Okay. Does that mean we need to drop the sails."
He looked back over his shoulder, he could still see the island but it was a dot far behind them.
He told her what lines to pull, where to stand and what to touch. Delanie worked like an expert. "Have you done this before?"
"No, first time."
Impossible. It was like she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. After they had weighed anchor and everything else was done she plopped down on the deck beside him.
"Honey, you are either one of the best actors I've ever seen or you've done this before."
In the dim light of the crescent moon he could see a smile curve her lips making her cheeks plump out. "Thank you."
"What?"
"I am a damn good actress."
"Okay, I stepped into that one, but it was like you knew what you were doing."
"I'm a fast study. Have to be to act. Do we need to worry about anything hitting us?"
"No, we're out of the shipping lanes. We can turn on the lights so something smaller doesn't hit us."
"You don't think our little visitor back at the island will see them?"
"He might see our lights, but he doesn't have a boat. At least I don't think he did. It'll take him a while even if he has one hidden on the island."
"You sure about that?"
"Let's sleep up here tonight. That way we'll here any boats approaching."
Delanie grabbed his hand and squeezed, "I'll go down and get some blankets."
"No, you stay here. I need to go below anyways to use the radio. I'll grab the pillows and blankets. I know where they are anyways."
Sam worked his way down the stairs. His head still swam with pain bringing in a level of confusion he wasn't used to operating with. If the bastard attacked them tonight he probably wouldn't be able to defend them.
Maybe they should push on, but the number of sandbars in the area were too many for a novice to sail through at night, and his vision hadn't cleared enough to be of much help.
They should have put out an emergency call to the authorities earlier, but being free from the island and the man hell bent on killing them had been top priority. Sam flipped the switch on the front of the radio, nothing happened.
An icy cold swept over his body. He flipped the switch again. The radio was broke. The air in the small cabin grew thick, his lungs stilled. His brain grew fuzzy.
Sam pulled the radio out from the cubbyhole. No power line and the batteries had been taken. How? The guy must have come aboard and done the damage. The boom vang had been cut. The rope thrown overboard. The radio disabled. What else could be wrong?
He searched for more batteries but couldn't find any extra. Truthfully he had needed to make a supply run, but he could have sworn that he had extra batteries.
They needed to get help and alert the authorities. Sam stood, his knees wobbled and gave out. He sank to the ground, his head going fuzzy. He was in no shape to sail in the dark and Delanie didn't have the experience.
Hopefully they'd wake in the morning to smooth sailing and no stalkers. Tomorrow they'd make it to the main island and report the crime. He'd restock the boat and then he could take Delanie to another island. They could start up where they left off, only this time they'd be free of stalkers and other prying eyes.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 20, 2011
Chapter 11: Part 6
Richard heard the noise from outside. He watched as the woman snuck up the path. She must have heard him in here getting things ready for them. The guy was on the sailboat so he wouldn't have any trouble taking her captive.
He couldn't believe how stupid this blonde was. She was sneaking to him instead of away. If she had any brains she would have gone down to the lagoon to get help from the idiot boyfriend of hers.
He moved towards the French doors, hiding behind a pillar. When she came in he could grab her. Only two more feet and she would be his.
Pain exploded behind his eyes. He roared with anger as he spun around. His fists swung wildly, catching the guy on the cheek. "Fuck."
Her boyfriend had come back. The crack to his head had angered him but not knocked him out of the game. Richard reared back and popped the bastard in the face. Pain radiated up his arm to his shoulder.
His opponent was strong, but Richard was stronger. He would keep pushing until the other man broke. If he could make it into the kitchen he could grab a knife and then the scuffle would get interesting.
Richard hated that he was breathing heavy, but he'd pushed the fight into the kitchen. Finally he could take the bastard down. He reached for the knife but was punished severely by the other guy's fist.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
Richard laughed, ignoring the questions. The girl came into view, distracting him from him prize. The jerk's fist stuck out, catching him on the cheek.
"Crap, die already." Richard searched for the knife, opening drawer after drawer. He felt the girl sneaking up behind him. Their trap was set, but his strength was greater. They wouldn't take him down.
The pressure in Richard's head increased. His heart beat wildly, his vision blurred. He struck out fists. The other guy fell. Now he could have his prize.
He grabbed the girl by the wrist but she wouldn't come. He'd never fought to get them onto the boat, but he knew he had the strength to win. He twisted her arm and she cried out in pain.
Her chest heaved with exertion. Only a few more seconds and he would have her totally submitted. "You are mine and I will have you."
The fear he'd expected to see was there, but something else hid in the shadows of her eyes. He could tell she was groping for something behind her, but what?
He focused only on her gaze, knowing that he would eventually command the woman. Her arm swung around, taking him by surprise. He looked up too late to see the small frying pan in her grasps.
The lights went dim for a moment. He heard scuffling. Words were spoken. Then he was alone. She'd escaped.
He tried to stand but his legs gave out. Dizziness won out and he dropped to the floor, waiting for the waves of disorientation to pass. He'd track the bitch down and show her who was boss.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
He couldn't believe how stupid this blonde was. She was sneaking to him instead of away. If she had any brains she would have gone down to the lagoon to get help from the idiot boyfriend of hers.
He moved towards the French doors, hiding behind a pillar. When she came in he could grab her. Only two more feet and she would be his.
Pain exploded behind his eyes. He roared with anger as he spun around. His fists swung wildly, catching the guy on the cheek. "Fuck."
Her boyfriend had come back. The crack to his head had angered him but not knocked him out of the game. Richard reared back and popped the bastard in the face. Pain radiated up his arm to his shoulder.
His opponent was strong, but Richard was stronger. He would keep pushing until the other man broke. If he could make it into the kitchen he could grab a knife and then the scuffle would get interesting.
Richard hated that he was breathing heavy, but he'd pushed the fight into the kitchen. Finally he could take the bastard down. He reached for the knife but was punished severely by the other guy's fist.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
Richard laughed, ignoring the questions. The girl came into view, distracting him from him prize. The jerk's fist stuck out, catching him on the cheek.
"Crap, die already." Richard searched for the knife, opening drawer after drawer. He felt the girl sneaking up behind him. Their trap was set, but his strength was greater. They wouldn't take him down.
The pressure in Richard's head increased. His heart beat wildly, his vision blurred. He struck out fists. The other guy fell. Now he could have his prize.
He grabbed the girl by the wrist but she wouldn't come. He'd never fought to get them onto the boat, but he knew he had the strength to win. He twisted her arm and she cried out in pain.
Her chest heaved with exertion. Only a few more seconds and he would have her totally submitted. "You are mine and I will have you."
The fear he'd expected to see was there, but something else hid in the shadows of her eyes. He could tell she was groping for something behind her, but what?
He focused only on her gaze, knowing that he would eventually command the woman. Her arm swung around, taking him by surprise. He looked up too late to see the small frying pan in her grasps.
The lights went dim for a moment. He heard scuffling. Words were spoken. Then he was alone. She'd escaped.
He tried to stand but his legs gave out. Dizziness won out and he dropped to the floor, waiting for the waves of disorientation to pass. He'd track the bitch down and show her who was boss.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 19, 2011
Chapter 11: Part 5
Delanie pulled her shorts on and slid a t-shirt over her bikini. There was something wonderful between her and Sam. She knew this guy was the one. Well, maybe not the one, but he had the potential to be the one.
A few more weeks of solitude on this lovely island would give them the time and the atmosphere to become a real couple. Maybe that was the way she needed to build a relationship.
Get the guy alone, spend loads of time with him and fall in love. Whoa there, don't even think of love girl.
She picked up her sandals and ran up the beach towards the house. Sam was staying on the sailboat to finish the repairs. One more hour and then he said it would be done.
Once she hit the path to the house she slipped on her shoes and walked the rest of the way. She envisioned a romantic dinner with candlelight by the pool. Maybe some fresh cut flowers. When she arrived she'd seen the floating candles, maybe this was the night to pull them out. The floating candleholders had been somewhere strange.
The laundry closet? No.
The sideboard in the dining room? No.
The pool house? Yes. Tonight was the night to pull those out. Now that she remembered where they were she could really make this evening special. Sam would appreciate the effort. The dinner would be great. They could get to know each other.
Delanie hopped into the shower, grateful for the time to get cleaned up. After dressing in a cute sundress she pulled the food out of the fridge.
She made her way out to the pool house to grab the candles but she saw some white flowers on her way. The flowers would make a beautiful arrangement for the centerpiece. She went back to the kitchen and grabbed the kitchen shears then went back out to cut the flowers.
After cutting three stems she realized that she didn't have any water for them. The pool house had a vase that would work perfect for this arrangement. She opened the door of the two-room pool bungalow, surprised that the place smelled a little stale.
She threw open the windows, letting the breeze take away the smell. It was almost like something had begun to decay.
The vase sat empty on the counter top above the candle storage cabinet. She pulled out the candles, the holders and some scented oil.
Even the putrid smell in the bungalow wouldn't get her down. There wasn't any problem she couldn't deal with. She and Sam would talk tonight, maybe even make some plans about their future. Her heart swelled and her body heated.
As she passed by the bathroom she heard a buzzing sound. She opened the bathroom door and flies swarmed out the door. The scream of terror from her lips scared her as much as the flies. She jumped back, closing the door but it didn't do any good. There still were flies in the room, getting in her hair and on her face. She ran out the front door, swatting at the bugs, trying to clear the air in front of her face.
She screamed again, twice more just to get rid of her frustration. What the hell had died in her bathroom? She opened the bungalow's door, afraid of what she would find.
The buzzing of the flies was now a defined sound, something she could identify. Before she'd thought it was the air conditioner, but now she knew it wasn't.
She crept to the bathroom, her heart beating wildly. Her hand stayed on the doorknob for a full minute before she had the courage to push it open.
With her free hand she covered her mouth and nose with a cloth napkin, hoping to keep the flies out.
After some of the flies had cleared she saw the cause of the mess. It was a cat. A black and white tom that looked similar to Mikey, the cat she'd been featured with two months ago in a spread for perfume.
"What the hell?"
Delanie backed out of the bathroom, still clutching the napkin over her mouth. She gagged once, then again.
The candles and the vase would have to wait. Sam could help her dispose of the cat. What the hell was she supposed to do with it? The owner hadn't said anything about a cat.
She hadn't seen any references to the cat in the literature nor had she heard anything about a pet on the island. She sat down on one of the lounge chairs, letting her breath grow even and her head to stop pounding.
If she stayed like this for too long she'd drift off to sleep. Sleep wouldn't help her get dinner made. Later, after dinner, and after a long talk she could sleep. Hopefully cuddled in Sam's arms.
She opened her eyes, surprised to find Sam already back from the boat. She could make out his movements inside the house. The sound of something crashing to the ground made her jump.
"What are you doing?" She called out but the words died on her lips as Sam came traipsing up the hill from the lagoon.
She jumped up from her chair and ran at Sam. She caught him and dragged him back behind a bush. The words wanted to spill out but fear had stolen her voice.
"What is it?"
"Someone, they're here. In the house."
"In the house?"
"Yeah, there's a dead cat and then there was someone in the house."
"Dead cat?"
"It doesn't matter now. There's a guy in the house, he's breaking things."
"Let me go look."
"No, what if he hurts you."
"Shh, sweetie, I'll be fine."
She watched in horror as Sam snuck up the pathway to the house. The suspense was killing her. She moved forward, unable to hang back.
By the time she had made it halfway to the house she'd already freaked herself out. Sweat poured down her face. Tears stung her eyes. Damn, there was no way she could help Sam if that guy had a gun. They should have made a run for it.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
A few more weeks of solitude on this lovely island would give them the time and the atmosphere to become a real couple. Maybe that was the way she needed to build a relationship.
Get the guy alone, spend loads of time with him and fall in love. Whoa there, don't even think of love girl.
She picked up her sandals and ran up the beach towards the house. Sam was staying on the sailboat to finish the repairs. One more hour and then he said it would be done.
Once she hit the path to the house she slipped on her shoes and walked the rest of the way. She envisioned a romantic dinner with candlelight by the pool. Maybe some fresh cut flowers. When she arrived she'd seen the floating candles, maybe this was the night to pull them out. The floating candleholders had been somewhere strange.
The laundry closet? No.
The sideboard in the dining room? No.
The pool house? Yes. Tonight was the night to pull those out. Now that she remembered where they were she could really make this evening special. Sam would appreciate the effort. The dinner would be great. They could get to know each other.
Delanie hopped into the shower, grateful for the time to get cleaned up. After dressing in a cute sundress she pulled the food out of the fridge.
She made her way out to the pool house to grab the candles but she saw some white flowers on her way. The flowers would make a beautiful arrangement for the centerpiece. She went back to the kitchen and grabbed the kitchen shears then went back out to cut the flowers.
After cutting three stems she realized that she didn't have any water for them. The pool house had a vase that would work perfect for this arrangement. She opened the door of the two-room pool bungalow, surprised that the place smelled a little stale.
She threw open the windows, letting the breeze take away the smell. It was almost like something had begun to decay.
The vase sat empty on the counter top above the candle storage cabinet. She pulled out the candles, the holders and some scented oil.
Even the putrid smell in the bungalow wouldn't get her down. There wasn't any problem she couldn't deal with. She and Sam would talk tonight, maybe even make some plans about their future. Her heart swelled and her body heated.
As she passed by the bathroom she heard a buzzing sound. She opened the bathroom door and flies swarmed out the door. The scream of terror from her lips scared her as much as the flies. She jumped back, closing the door but it didn't do any good. There still were flies in the room, getting in her hair and on her face. She ran out the front door, swatting at the bugs, trying to clear the air in front of her face.
She screamed again, twice more just to get rid of her frustration. What the hell had died in her bathroom? She opened the bungalow's door, afraid of what she would find.
The buzzing of the flies was now a defined sound, something she could identify. Before she'd thought it was the air conditioner, but now she knew it wasn't.
She crept to the bathroom, her heart beating wildly. Her hand stayed on the doorknob for a full minute before she had the courage to push it open.
With her free hand she covered her mouth and nose with a cloth napkin, hoping to keep the flies out.
After some of the flies had cleared she saw the cause of the mess. It was a cat. A black and white tom that looked similar to Mikey, the cat she'd been featured with two months ago in a spread for perfume.
"What the hell?"
Delanie backed out of the bathroom, still clutching the napkin over her mouth. She gagged once, then again.
The candles and the vase would have to wait. Sam could help her dispose of the cat. What the hell was she supposed to do with it? The owner hadn't said anything about a cat.
She hadn't seen any references to the cat in the literature nor had she heard anything about a pet on the island. She sat down on one of the lounge chairs, letting her breath grow even and her head to stop pounding.
If she stayed like this for too long she'd drift off to sleep. Sleep wouldn't help her get dinner made. Later, after dinner, and after a long talk she could sleep. Hopefully cuddled in Sam's arms.
She opened her eyes, surprised to find Sam already back from the boat. She could make out his movements inside the house. The sound of something crashing to the ground made her jump.
"What are you doing?" She called out but the words died on her lips as Sam came traipsing up the hill from the lagoon.
She jumped up from her chair and ran at Sam. She caught him and dragged him back behind a bush. The words wanted to spill out but fear had stolen her voice.
"What is it?"
"Someone, they're here. In the house."
"In the house?"
"Yeah, there's a dead cat and then there was someone in the house."
"Dead cat?"
"It doesn't matter now. There's a guy in the house, he's breaking things."
"Let me go look."
"No, what if he hurts you."
"Shh, sweetie, I'll be fine."
She watched in horror as Sam snuck up the pathway to the house. The suspense was killing her. She moved forward, unable to hang back.
By the time she had made it halfway to the house she'd already freaked herself out. Sweat poured down her face. Tears stung her eyes. Damn, there was no way she could help Sam if that guy had a gun. They should have made a run for it.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 18, 2011
Chapter 11: Part 4
Bill stared at the artist's rendering from Amanda's description. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. He'd seen the resemblance when she'd told the artist about the jaw line. He'd hit that same jaw with his fists more than once. Then the eyes had cinched it. Maybe he was crazy. It had been years since he'd been in school with Samuel Taylor.
Samuel had been the poor boy on scholarship. Bill the rich kid who wished his family was poor so they could be normal. Neither he nor Sam could have stopped what happened. They were too young and too bored to get along.
He didn't believe that Sam would ever be the type of person to do the horrible acts committed against Amanda, but maybe you never really knew anyone.
Hell, Shana had shocked the hell out of him when she changed. He still didn't get her swing in attitude. Maybe Sam had gone off the deep end.
Bill went back into Amanda's room, he needed more questions answered and the only way to get those answers was to ask, but the poor girl was exhausted. Why did have to develop a conscious on this one.
He knew not to get involved with the victim. He also knew that letting his emotions rule how he ran the case wouldn't help anyone.
Amanda opened her eyes, she moaned when she looked at him. "More questions?"
"I'm sorry, but I need information."
"I'm tired."
"Okay, two questions now then we'll talk again later."
"Shoot."
"Where did you meet this man?"
"The first time I saw him I was at the grocery store. My cart bumped his. We were both in South Palm Beach."
"Florida?"
"Yep, Florida."
"When he..."
"Took me?"
"Yeah, took you, were you in Florida?"
"No, I left the States and went to my house on Paradise Island the next day. Took a sailing ship over."
"When did you see him again?"
"He was at a bar I frequent. Then he showed up at the pool."
"Was there anything special that drew you to him?"
"I was lonely. My boyfriend and I had just broken up. I felt reckless and wanted someone to talk to. He seemed harmless."
Tears formed in Amanda's eyes. "I know this is difficult."
"I need to rest now."
"I'm going to do some work, but I'll be back later."
She shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep before he could get out of the room. Poor girl had been through so much. If only he'd met her before this. She didn't deserve so much pain.
Bill drove over to the police station and begged for the use of a computer. He'd been given access through an old piece of crap that would do. The connection was slow but still he was able to connect to the FBI and find out if there was a warrant out for Sam.
He logged on to the old alumni site to search for Sam. He was sure the guy was somewhere in New York working his ass off building an obscene amount of income so he could create an empire.
Just like he thought he would find there were lines and lines about Sam Taylor and all the companies he owned. There was Taylor Enterprise, Taylor Shipping, Metro Dynamix, Taylor Investment Group and the list went on and on. Apparently Samuel Taylor had been a busy little beaver. No way would a guy like Mr. Taylor have the time to commit to two weeks of torture.
To be thorough Bill Googled Taylor. He was sure he'd find Taylor's exploits on the dating scene. The guy had always been the type to love 'em and leave 'em.
When the page popped up he was surprised to see nothing on Sam's dating. Instead, there was an article about Sam leaving New York, his companies and his home to live on a sailboat in the Caribbean. Bill's gut clenched and his head grew foggy.
Fuck, Sam was on a sailboat with free time galore. Enough leisure time to spend weeks stalking and torturing young women.
Bill picked up the phone and dialed his boss in the States. The voice mail picked up. He didn't want to leave a message so he hung up.
He held his head in his hands, his blood pressure skyrocketing. Of all the crappy luck. Not only did he know the suspect, he wanted to get to know the victim.
Only an ulcer and the shits would make this more sucky. He needed a break. Maybe he could get Sam's information from one of his companies and just leave off the fact that he was FBI. "Holy crap, this sucks."
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
Samuel had been the poor boy on scholarship. Bill the rich kid who wished his family was poor so they could be normal. Neither he nor Sam could have stopped what happened. They were too young and too bored to get along.
He didn't believe that Sam would ever be the type of person to do the horrible acts committed against Amanda, but maybe you never really knew anyone.
Hell, Shana had shocked the hell out of him when she changed. He still didn't get her swing in attitude. Maybe Sam had gone off the deep end.
Bill went back into Amanda's room, he needed more questions answered and the only way to get those answers was to ask, but the poor girl was exhausted. Why did have to develop a conscious on this one.
He knew not to get involved with the victim. He also knew that letting his emotions rule how he ran the case wouldn't help anyone.
Amanda opened her eyes, she moaned when she looked at him. "More questions?"
"I'm sorry, but I need information."
"I'm tired."
"Okay, two questions now then we'll talk again later."
"Shoot."
"Where did you meet this man?"
"The first time I saw him I was at the grocery store. My cart bumped his. We were both in South Palm Beach."
"Florida?"
"Yep, Florida."
"When he..."
"Took me?"
"Yeah, took you, were you in Florida?"
"No, I left the States and went to my house on Paradise Island the next day. Took a sailing ship over."
"When did you see him again?"
"He was at a bar I frequent. Then he showed up at the pool."
"Was there anything special that drew you to him?"
"I was lonely. My boyfriend and I had just broken up. I felt reckless and wanted someone to talk to. He seemed harmless."
Tears formed in Amanda's eyes. "I know this is difficult."
"I need to rest now."
"I'm going to do some work, but I'll be back later."
She shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep before he could get out of the room. Poor girl had been through so much. If only he'd met her before this. She didn't deserve so much pain.
Bill drove over to the police station and begged for the use of a computer. He'd been given access through an old piece of crap that would do. The connection was slow but still he was able to connect to the FBI and find out if there was a warrant out for Sam.
He logged on to the old alumni site to search for Sam. He was sure the guy was somewhere in New York working his ass off building an obscene amount of income so he could create an empire.
Just like he thought he would find there were lines and lines about Sam Taylor and all the companies he owned. There was Taylor Enterprise, Taylor Shipping, Metro Dynamix, Taylor Investment Group and the list went on and on. Apparently Samuel Taylor had been a busy little beaver. No way would a guy like Mr. Taylor have the time to commit to two weeks of torture.
To be thorough Bill Googled Taylor. He was sure he'd find Taylor's exploits on the dating scene. The guy had always been the type to love 'em and leave 'em.
When the page popped up he was surprised to see nothing on Sam's dating. Instead, there was an article about Sam leaving New York, his companies and his home to live on a sailboat in the Caribbean. Bill's gut clenched and his head grew foggy.
Fuck, Sam was on a sailboat with free time galore. Enough leisure time to spend weeks stalking and torturing young women.
Bill picked up the phone and dialed his boss in the States. The voice mail picked up. He didn't want to leave a message so he hung up.
He held his head in his hands, his blood pressure skyrocketing. Of all the crappy luck. Not only did he know the suspect, he wanted to get to know the victim.
Only an ulcer and the shits would make this more sucky. He needed a break. Maybe he could get Sam's information from one of his companies and just leave off the fact that he was FBI. "Holy crap, this sucks."
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 17, 2011
Chapter 11: Part 3
Sam grabbed the boom vang. Somehow during the storm the line had broken. Mostly improbable, but still he sat here with the crapped out line in his hand.
He stared at the rope. His mind going through the possibilities of how the vang could have broke like this. The first thing he guessed was someone had cut the line, but it didn't look cut. At least he didn't think it looked cut.
He ran a tight ship. Every line, every pulley, every part was checked over and over again. A fray like this one must have taken weeks to develop, but this occurred overnight in a storm when his sails were stored.
The line holding the boom still shouldn't have broken. But here he sat, wondering if his riggings were marred. If one of the pulley's broke then he would be okay, if two broke he'd need to make a run to the main island and stock up. If three broke, he was screwed.
"Hey, can I come out?" Delanie waved from the shore.
"Sure, let me motor the dinghy over."
She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. "No need, I'll swim."
He watched her strip off her shirt and shorts revealing a black bikini. She waded out into the water and then dove in, stroking perfectly to the side of the ship.
He reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her onto the deck. Thoughts of fixing the vang fled his mind as she squeezed the water from her hair.
Totally oblivious to his interest, she stretched her arms overhead then bent at the waist. "Whoo, I need to swim more." She looked up and her eyes went wide. "What? Do I have seaweed hanging from my hair?"
He cleared his throat, "No, no seaweed."
She stood tall and faced him. "What's up?"
He bit his tongue to keep from saying that he was. She didn't need that. They had some stranger on the island and they needed to get off.
"Why the bikini?"
"No one is here. I found the knife. It was behind the broiler. I'm not sure how it got there, but who knows. Maybe I accidently put it in that cabinet and it got shoved in the back."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"What about that strange feeling?"
"I don't know, maybe an animal."
"The footprints?"
"Someone was probably here then left. We don't know how old those prints were."
"They had to be from today. The rain would have washed them away yesterday."
"Yeah, but it was probably just some lost soul who took refuge on the island then left this morning. You know how people are. They need help but don't want to be a bother. Plus, you can't see the house from that side and we weren't running any lights. They wouldn't have known there was a house on island. They got scared, anchored and left once the sun came up."
"Maybe."
"Have you seen any more strange footprints?"
Sam didn't want to concede defeat. She might be right, but what if she was wrong. "No, but–."
"Hey, let's just enjoy the day and not think about strangers skulking around on the island. No one is here."
"I need to fix some rigging."
"I'll help."
"You know anything about sailboats?"
She smiled and popped up on her tiptoes to lay a kiss on his cheek. "No, but I'm good with directions."
He laughed out loud and pulled her into a tight embrace, relishing the feel of her near nakedness. His hands slid over her flesh, memorizing every curve, dip and swell. Hot damn, she was amazing.
"Now, mister touchy feely, let's get to work."
"I need to get some supplies from below." He traipsed downstairs, trying to rid his mind of her perfect body while he maintained his focus on fixing his boat. "Okay, this is just like any other majorly difficult task. I maintain focus and ignore the distractions." He swiped a hand down his face. "Who the hell am I kidding? I could never ignore her."
Sam grabbed the line and some tools. He grabbed two bottles of water and headed top deck. Delanie was touching the mast and investigating the halyard.
"I wish I knew more about sailing ships."
"I could teach you."
"You know, I think we are going to have a nice long relationship."
"Delanie, I know this island is different than real life, but I agree. I think we can have something special."
"Follow me." Sam took her to the front of the ship and began explaining the way the boom vang worked. She listened intently, helping him out when he needed a hand.
Delanie laughed easily as they worked together. He grew comfortable with her. Almost like he'd known her for years. His dating history was sketchy at best. Never before had he actually done a project with a woman he dated. The relationship existed long enough to go to dinner and then to bed, but nothing more. He had kept a few girls around for a couple of months, but he'd never actually cared for any of them. The emotional attachment was non-existent, but with Delanie he felt emotionally tied to her.
He felt something building in him that he thought had died off never to be reclaimed. His heart swelled when he though of a future with her. Maybe he could get off the boat and make life work. He needed to try because he wanted a future with this magnificent woman.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
He stared at the rope. His mind going through the possibilities of how the vang could have broke like this. The first thing he guessed was someone had cut the line, but it didn't look cut. At least he didn't think it looked cut.
He ran a tight ship. Every line, every pulley, every part was checked over and over again. A fray like this one must have taken weeks to develop, but this occurred overnight in a storm when his sails were stored.
The line holding the boom still shouldn't have broken. But here he sat, wondering if his riggings were marred. If one of the pulley's broke then he would be okay, if two broke he'd need to make a run to the main island and stock up. If three broke, he was screwed.
"Hey, can I come out?" Delanie waved from the shore.
"Sure, let me motor the dinghy over."
She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. "No need, I'll swim."
He watched her strip off her shirt and shorts revealing a black bikini. She waded out into the water and then dove in, stroking perfectly to the side of the ship.
He reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her onto the deck. Thoughts of fixing the vang fled his mind as she squeezed the water from her hair.
Totally oblivious to his interest, she stretched her arms overhead then bent at the waist. "Whoo, I need to swim more." She looked up and her eyes went wide. "What? Do I have seaweed hanging from my hair?"
He cleared his throat, "No, no seaweed."
She stood tall and faced him. "What's up?"
He bit his tongue to keep from saying that he was. She didn't need that. They had some stranger on the island and they needed to get off.
"Why the bikini?"
"No one is here. I found the knife. It was behind the broiler. I'm not sure how it got there, but who knows. Maybe I accidently put it in that cabinet and it got shoved in the back."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"What about that strange feeling?"
"I don't know, maybe an animal."
"The footprints?"
"Someone was probably here then left. We don't know how old those prints were."
"They had to be from today. The rain would have washed them away yesterday."
"Yeah, but it was probably just some lost soul who took refuge on the island then left this morning. You know how people are. They need help but don't want to be a bother. Plus, you can't see the house from that side and we weren't running any lights. They wouldn't have known there was a house on island. They got scared, anchored and left once the sun came up."
"Maybe."
"Have you seen any more strange footprints?"
Sam didn't want to concede defeat. She might be right, but what if she was wrong. "No, but–."
"Hey, let's just enjoy the day and not think about strangers skulking around on the island. No one is here."
"I need to fix some rigging."
"I'll help."
"You know anything about sailboats?"
She smiled and popped up on her tiptoes to lay a kiss on his cheek. "No, but I'm good with directions."
He laughed out loud and pulled her into a tight embrace, relishing the feel of her near nakedness. His hands slid over her flesh, memorizing every curve, dip and swell. Hot damn, she was amazing.
"Now, mister touchy feely, let's get to work."
"I need to get some supplies from below." He traipsed downstairs, trying to rid his mind of her perfect body while he maintained his focus on fixing his boat. "Okay, this is just like any other majorly difficult task. I maintain focus and ignore the distractions." He swiped a hand down his face. "Who the hell am I kidding? I could never ignore her."
Sam grabbed the line and some tools. He grabbed two bottles of water and headed top deck. Delanie was touching the mast and investigating the halyard.
"I wish I knew more about sailing ships."
"I could teach you."
"You know, I think we are going to have a nice long relationship."
"Delanie, I know this island is different than real life, but I agree. I think we can have something special."
"Follow me." Sam took her to the front of the ship and began explaining the way the boom vang worked. She listened intently, helping him out when he needed a hand.
Delanie laughed easily as they worked together. He grew comfortable with her. Almost like he'd known her for years. His dating history was sketchy at best. Never before had he actually done a project with a woman he dated. The relationship existed long enough to go to dinner and then to bed, but nothing more. He had kept a few girls around for a couple of months, but he'd never actually cared for any of them. The emotional attachment was non-existent, but with Delanie he felt emotionally tied to her.
He felt something building in him that he thought had died off never to be reclaimed. His heart swelled when he though of a future with her. Maybe he could get off the boat and make life work. He needed to try because he wanted a future with this magnificent woman.
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
June 16, 2011
Chapter 11: Part 2
A slimy shiver raced down her back making her feel nasty. Someone was watching them. She didn't want to tell Sam back by the outcropping of trees and bushes because she feared the guy would know they were on to him. Now that they were far from the trees Delanie put her hand on Sam's harm, halting their walk.
"I felt it again."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Someone was watching us back there."
"Why didn't you say something?"
She shook her head, hoping that she could get him to understand how she felt. "What if it wasn't just another paparazzi? What if he had a gun? The knife and my thong were missing. I know, I know, I could have misplaced both, but what about the rope from your boat?"
"We need to go back and see if we can find what's going on."
"I'm scared."
"I'm not too happy about this either. Maybe it was just someone who happened upon the island by accident. If we stick together we'll be safe."
"Sam, what if someone is out there trying to hurt us? I didn't even listen when my agent told me about pirates, but what if this guy is a pirate and plans on killing us?"
"Few pirates operate in this area of the world. Most work near Africa or Columbia. They won't travel here. It's too dangerous for them. Too many cops, coast guard, military."
"If we find someone we need to get off the island." Delanie grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him close. "If this guy is watching us and we tip our hand then he'll act."
"How do you know that?"
"I've been in enough movies, read enough scripts and listened to enough cops talk about motive to know that once this guy knows we are onto him he'll react badly."
"Okay, if we find anything let's hug and get close, that way we can talk and he won't hear a word we say."
She stepped back, unsure if he was kidding or just trying to use her.
"Really, I'm not trying to do anything funny. It's just a way for us to talk without our voices carrying."
"Are you sure?" Disappointment seeped through her. Surely he was a little attracted to her because she sure as heck was attracted to him. She couldn't help it. His strong jaw, the sharp planes of his muscles and the way he held himself. Also it didn't hurt that they has spend so much time together.
"I'm not trying to take advantage of you, not that I'm..."
"What?"
"Okay, I'll admit it, I'm attracted to you. But it's different than I'm used to."
"Hmmm."
"What? I'm not a saint, that's why I'm living out here alone. You've had your problems and I've had mine."
"Great, we're problem people." In her work she strove to never be labeled a problem actress. Coming from Sam that label hurt.
"No, not problem people, but maybe we should just calm down. Let's see what's happening back there. Maybe it's nothing and we can laugh about it over fish and fruit tonight during dinner."
"I hope so."
Delanie took off walking searching the trees and bushes for signs of any human life other than she and Sam. If her feelings were true and there was another person on the island that would mean that either a paparazzi had found her and she couldn't trust her agent, or some weirdo had decided to stalk them.
What if Sam had been the instigator for the trouble? Everything had been fine until he showed up on the island. The man could be the cause of her problems. The disappearing things, the strange feelings had all happened after he arrived.
She felt torn. The guy had been nice, more than nice. He'd taken care of her during both storms. He hadn't made any passes at her until she pressed and even then the pass hadn't been anything more than him saying he was attracted to her. Loads of people wee attracted to her. Plus she really was attracted to him.
When he had wrapped his arms around her and held her tight just a few minutes ago she wished their embrace had ended in a kiss. If she were truthful she wished for more than just a kiss. She wanted to make love to the man.
She'd been so wrapped up in thinking about Sam and his wonderful body that she almost yelped out in fear when he grabbed her arm and pulled her into an embrace. The response was automatic. She reached up and pulled his head down, locking her lips to his and rubbing her body against him.
He moaned, pulling her closer. She felt his tongue rasp against her lips. She opened to him, spreading her lips and taking his tongue into her mouth. They kissed, their bodies plastered to each other, his hands on her shoulders then they slid lower. His hands stopped above her butt and she wished he'd dip lower. She wanted him. There was no denying it. Her body ached to feel this man.
He pulled away first, his breath coming in gasps. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help."
"It's okay, I started it."
"Footprints, that's why I stopped."
He pulled her into a hug making sure his lips were next to her ear. Anyone watching would believe that they were discussing making love. She shivered, gulping down a breath. His chest pressed against her breasts, she snuggled in closer, wishing they could forget about footprints, knives and strangers, but they couldn't.
"If you look to the left you can see that someone walked up that way. They were wearing shoes that don't match the treat on either one of our shoes."
"How do you know?"
"I made sure to see what our shoe prints looked like. It's different. Big too, must be a man."
"What do we do?"
"Make like there is nothing wrong." Sam slid his lips down her jaw line then kissed her nose and her forehead. He tilted her head back, his eyes dark pools of desire. The slowness of his movements left her aching for his kiss, but he didn't rush it. He moved with deliberation, his gaze locked onto hers. Then it happened. The kiss blew her away.
Maybe it was the fear, or the desperation, but his lips drew her almost to the point of climax. She tore her mouth away, bracing his chest with her hand. "We need to go back to the house."
He reached for her, trying to pull her close again. "Here."
"No, the house." She turned toward the house, all the time shaking. Was their performance real enough that the person would believe them lovers instead of two people scared for their life?
They didn't talk on their way back. Once inside Sam locked all the doors, drew all the curtains then went about checking the closets and under the bed.
He came into the den and stopped on the other side of the room from her. "I think we're clear. It doesn't look like anyone has been in here, just us."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
He looked down at his shoes, his face turning pink. "I wasn't lying down there. That kiss was real. If I didn't feel that we were in danger I wouldn't have stopped at just kissing you."
The blood rushed through her body, setting off parts that she had no control over when he was near. "I don't think I wanted you to stop at just a kiss."
"You are one dangerous lady."
"Remember that, because once we are free from here I think we need to talk truthfully about who we are and what we expect from each other."
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
"I felt it again."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Someone was watching us back there."
"Why didn't you say something?"
She shook her head, hoping that she could get him to understand how she felt. "What if it wasn't just another paparazzi? What if he had a gun? The knife and my thong were missing. I know, I know, I could have misplaced both, but what about the rope from your boat?"
"We need to go back and see if we can find what's going on."
"I'm scared."
"I'm not too happy about this either. Maybe it was just someone who happened upon the island by accident. If we stick together we'll be safe."
"Sam, what if someone is out there trying to hurt us? I didn't even listen when my agent told me about pirates, but what if this guy is a pirate and plans on killing us?"
"Few pirates operate in this area of the world. Most work near Africa or Columbia. They won't travel here. It's too dangerous for them. Too many cops, coast guard, military."
"If we find someone we need to get off the island." Delanie grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him close. "If this guy is watching us and we tip our hand then he'll act."
"How do you know that?"
"I've been in enough movies, read enough scripts and listened to enough cops talk about motive to know that once this guy knows we are onto him he'll react badly."
"Okay, if we find anything let's hug and get close, that way we can talk and he won't hear a word we say."
She stepped back, unsure if he was kidding or just trying to use her.
"Really, I'm not trying to do anything funny. It's just a way for us to talk without our voices carrying."
"Are you sure?" Disappointment seeped through her. Surely he was a little attracted to her because she sure as heck was attracted to him. She couldn't help it. His strong jaw, the sharp planes of his muscles and the way he held himself. Also it didn't hurt that they has spend so much time together.
"I'm not trying to take advantage of you, not that I'm..."
"What?"
"Okay, I'll admit it, I'm attracted to you. But it's different than I'm used to."
"Hmmm."
"What? I'm not a saint, that's why I'm living out here alone. You've had your problems and I've had mine."
"Great, we're problem people." In her work she strove to never be labeled a problem actress. Coming from Sam that label hurt.
"No, not problem people, but maybe we should just calm down. Let's see what's happening back there. Maybe it's nothing and we can laugh about it over fish and fruit tonight during dinner."
"I hope so."
Delanie took off walking searching the trees and bushes for signs of any human life other than she and Sam. If her feelings were true and there was another person on the island that would mean that either a paparazzi had found her and she couldn't trust her agent, or some weirdo had decided to stalk them.
What if Sam had been the instigator for the trouble? Everything had been fine until he showed up on the island. The man could be the cause of her problems. The disappearing things, the strange feelings had all happened after he arrived.
She felt torn. The guy had been nice, more than nice. He'd taken care of her during both storms. He hadn't made any passes at her until she pressed and even then the pass hadn't been anything more than him saying he was attracted to her. Loads of people wee attracted to her. Plus she really was attracted to him.
When he had wrapped his arms around her and held her tight just a few minutes ago she wished their embrace had ended in a kiss. If she were truthful she wished for more than just a kiss. She wanted to make love to the man.
She'd been so wrapped up in thinking about Sam and his wonderful body that she almost yelped out in fear when he grabbed her arm and pulled her into an embrace. The response was automatic. She reached up and pulled his head down, locking her lips to his and rubbing her body against him.
He moaned, pulling her closer. She felt his tongue rasp against her lips. She opened to him, spreading her lips and taking his tongue into her mouth. They kissed, their bodies plastered to each other, his hands on her shoulders then they slid lower. His hands stopped above her butt and she wished he'd dip lower. She wanted him. There was no denying it. Her body ached to feel this man.
He pulled away first, his breath coming in gasps. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help."
"It's okay, I started it."
"Footprints, that's why I stopped."
He pulled her into a hug making sure his lips were next to her ear. Anyone watching would believe that they were discussing making love. She shivered, gulping down a breath. His chest pressed against her breasts, she snuggled in closer, wishing they could forget about footprints, knives and strangers, but they couldn't.
"If you look to the left you can see that someone walked up that way. They were wearing shoes that don't match the treat on either one of our shoes."
"How do you know?"
"I made sure to see what our shoe prints looked like. It's different. Big too, must be a man."
"What do we do?"
"Make like there is nothing wrong." Sam slid his lips down her jaw line then kissed her nose and her forehead. He tilted her head back, his eyes dark pools of desire. The slowness of his movements left her aching for his kiss, but he didn't rush it. He moved with deliberation, his gaze locked onto hers. Then it happened. The kiss blew her away.
Maybe it was the fear, or the desperation, but his lips drew her almost to the point of climax. She tore her mouth away, bracing his chest with her hand. "We need to go back to the house."
He reached for her, trying to pull her close again. "Here."
"No, the house." She turned toward the house, all the time shaking. Was their performance real enough that the person would believe them lovers instead of two people scared for their life?
They didn't talk on their way back. Once inside Sam locked all the doors, drew all the curtains then went about checking the closets and under the bed.
He came into the den and stopped on the other side of the room from her. "I think we're clear. It doesn't look like anyone has been in here, just us."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
He looked down at his shoes, his face turning pink. "I wasn't lying down there. That kiss was real. If I didn't feel that we were in danger I wouldn't have stopped at just kissing you."
The blood rushed through her body, setting off parts that she had no control over when he was near. "I don't think I wanted you to stop at just a kiss."
"You are one dangerous lady."
"Remember that, because once we are free from here I think we need to talk truthfully about who we are and what we expect from each other."
Copyright Sara Thacker 2011
Red Skhye In Morning
Introducing Red Skhye in Morning. Delanie Skhye is desperate for paparazzi free time. Samuel Taylor is on break from work. He finds Delanie alone on a private island, but something is wrong. A killer
...more
- Sara Thacker's profile
- 23 followers
Sara Thacker isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
