Chapter 67

CHAPTER 67

Skye

A mixture of nausea and fear turns my blood into ice as Sheldon holds the gun pointed at me.

"What do you mean?" I stammer through my chattering teeth.

"It means you're never going to work in this town again. Turn around!"

I don't budge. The excruciating pain in my ankle gives me strength, driving stubborn determination into me.

"What part of turn around don't you understand?" He presses the barrel of the gun into my throat giving me no choice. Hopping on my good foot, I turn and face the dark tumultuous sea. A narrow railing is all that separates us.

"Now, bend over!"

Hesitantly, trying to maintain my balance, I do as he asks as the yacht sails like a wicked rollercoaster over the monstrous waves. My soaked hair draping me like a wet curtain, I keep my eyes focused on my dangling lucky locket, wishing I could clutch it. My teeth chatter, partly because I'm drenched and freezing, partly because I'm wheezing with fear. The Beretta's now pressed against the nape of my neck.

"Are you going to shoot me?" I stammer, struggling to get the words out as my teeth clatter . Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

"Maybe." He digs the gun deeper into my flesh. "I hear there are a lot of sharks in the water at this time of the year."

My fear morphs into a powerful wave of nausea. I gulp back the bile that burns my throat. I taste salt. I taste bitterness. I taste death. He's going to shoot me and throw me overboard. Oh, God! I'm going to drown! Die of hypothermia. Or be shark bait! All of the above. I'm living my last story. A horror story that's coming to its tragic end.

As if reading my mind, he cackles. "That's right, Miss Know-it-All. When this night is over, you will officially be a missing person. No one's gonna find your body. Maybe I'll stay and watch the feeding frenzy. I love Discovery's Shark Week." He laughs again. "This will be better."

"You're not going to get away with this!" I yell back, calling on my last bastion of courage.

He snickers. "Guess what! You're not going to be around to find out."

A sudden clap of thunder booms in the air. Followed by a lightning bolt that cuts through the fog and downpour like the sign of Zorro. Then, as if I'm hallucinating, a bright light beams onto the stormy dark water. Round like a searchlight. Overhead, the whir of blades slices through the veiled sky. A helicopter? The police?

"Huh?" mutters Sheldon.

Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it disappears. Just as quickly, all hope vanishes into thin air. I'm doomed. I'll never see my beloved husband or daughter again. A tempest of emotions whirls inside me. Terror. Sorrow. Despair. Finality. No one's coming to my rescue. Not even my hero. Like the onslaught of a tsunami, sobs wrack my body. Loud, heaving ones.

"Shut up!" screams Greenberg.

Suddenly, sirens blare in the near distance.

"LAPD. Drop the weapon and put up your hands."

A booming voice. Echoing in my ears as if it's coming through a megaphone. I blink open my wet, stinging eyes. Bright lights three decks below blind me. The yacht is surrounded by a swarm of police boats! And it's not moving!

"I repeat. Drop the weapon and put up your hands."

As the yacht bobbles in the riotous ocean, Sheldon shouts down at them.

"You listen to me, assholes! One move and I'll blow her to pieces." He presses the gun harder against me. A shiver of panic zips down my spine. I bite down on my quivering lips so I don't provoke him. Or throw up.

Another voice, this time female, floats into the air. A familiar, firm, and direct one I've heard before while covering a hostage story. The negotiator. Tried and true, Jan Lunden.

"Mr. Greenberg. Please calm down. We want to work with you. Tell us what you want."

"This is what I want." His voice bellows against the crashing waves. "I want you to get off my back and let me sail to Mexico with no intervention. Once I'm free and clear, I'll let her go."

Or not! I don't believe him. Any way I look at it, my life is over. It just takes one bullet.

An instant response from the voice below: "All units. Put down your weapons. Do not engage." My leaden heart sinks like an anchor as I watch the fleet of police boats retreat. The yacht begins to move again, battling the sky-high waves.

The monster roars with laugher. "The stupid pigs. They fell for it! Should I shoot you now and just get it over with or should I take you on a little cruise? There are a lot more sharks off the coast of Mexico." The cold barrel of his gun digs deeper into my neck.

"Shoot me now!" I scream.

On my next breath, a deafening pop thunders in my ears. The scent of gunpowder surrounds me. My legs buckle.

"Skye!" I hear my name as I go down.

A groan and then a crush of my bones. A rush of heat bellows up my neck and my throat closes. The menacing gray sea and obsidian sky become one as the fog fades to black.