“Throttle back to idle,” Larry said.
Gigi did so, and the boat was barely making headway against the current from the creek. They made another fifty yards, and Gigi could see the pontoon and the other boats in the dim light. Larry reached over and switched off the ignition.
“Why did you do that?” Gigi asked.
“The light on the shed is off,” Larry said. As he spoke, they both saw the beam of a flashlight on the trees above the pontoon, then it went off. They were now drifting backward with the current, and the boat began to turn sideways.
“Something’s wrong,” Larry said. “Just let the boat go where it wants to.”
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The boat drifted toward the south shore of the creek and brushed against some mangrove. Larry reached overboard, grabbed at the mangrove and propelled the boat downstream. From behind them they heard an unintelligible shout and an equally unintelligible reply, then the engine of a boat started.
“Get us out of here!” Larry hissed. “Go north.”
“Back past the house?”
“They won’t be expecting us there.”
Gigi started the engine and eased the throttle forward. Larry pushed her hand forward. “Don’t worry about the noise; they won’t be able to hear it over their own engine. We’re only a few miles from Stuart; head for there, as fast as you can.”
Gigi swung the boat north as they passed the buoy and aimed for the opposite shore. “You’re awfully jumpy, Larry,” she said. Larry looked over his shoulder and saw the running lights of a boat leaving the creek, then another and another. “We’re being pursued,” he said. “Make it wide open now.”
He took a small black box from his pocket, extended a six-inch antenna and pressed a button.
There was an explosion from behind them, and Gigi looked back in time to see a large fi reball rising. She moved the throttle all the way open. The boat leapt forward, its big outboard pushing the small hull. “What was that?” she yelled.
“Our rental car; a little something in the gas tank.” Larry looked back and watched the boats hesitate as they came out of the creek, no doubt debating which way to go. “Good thing our boat is black,”
he said.
“I didn’t see anything at that marina that could outrun us,” Gigi said, peering through the darkness ahead, looking for other boats. They raced past the small house on the other side of the waterway, and Larry saw people standing on the dock. “This was a setup,” he said. “They were laying for us.”
“Then why is nobody shooting at us?” Gigi asked. 2 8 0
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“Because they want us— me—alive,” Larry replied, looking at the chart in his hand. “There’s a flashing buoy where we turn left for Stuart. When we get there, stick with me; they’re not looking for a couple.”
Gigi got out her cell phone and pressed a speed-dial button. 2 81
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MANN Y FE L T HI S cell phone vibrate, and he pressed a button on his Bluetooth earpiece. “Yes?” he said.
“It’s Gigi,” she shouted over the whine of the outboard motor. “It was a setup; we’re running for Stuart Harbor, and we’ll make our way home from there.”
“I understand.” Manny hung up, reached into his inside coat pocket, extracted a sheet of paper and handed it to Evan. Evan unfolded the sheet and read: “There’s a gun on you, so don’t say a word or do anything I don’t tell you. The job is done. Open your briefcase on the seat beside you, and hand me the money under the table. Don’t be obvious. Then leave the briefcase there, get up and go to the men’s room, down the hall ahead of you, to your right. Stay there for five minutes, then do anything you like. Nod to tell me you understand.”
Evan nodded, opened the briefcase and handed over the envelope
with the money. Manny checked it without lowering his head, then put the sheet of paper back into his pocket and nodded. Evan got up, and went to the men’s room.
As soon as he left, Manny slid out of the booth, walked around 2 8 2
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