Free A Christmas Miracle in Pajaro Bay (Pajaro Bay Series Book 6) by Barbara Cool Lee Page B

on."
----
    T he crash broke the stillness only a short time later.
    The dog was on his feet and barking even as the crashing, from somewhere outside, continued to echo.
    Lori had dropped a tray of cookies on the floor at the first bang, and before the sound died away Matt was already on his feet and reaching for the compartment behind the fireplace grate where he kept his gun.
    "What was it?" Lori asked.
    He shook his head. "Don't know. Stay here."
    "Not likely. I'll be there to call for help if you need it. But I will let you go first."
    At the storm door, she had to forcibly push the dog back to keep him from coming along. She shut the door on the whining dog and then stood on the steps and watched Matt cross the stretch of lawn toward the cliff, his figure illuminated by the sweep of light as the lighthouse beam ticked around in its metered circle.
    There was another beam of light, coming up the side of the island cliff, from down where the dock was.
    Matt looked down the long steps toward the dock far below, then waved her forward. "It's an accident. Come on!"
    They raced down the steps together.
    At the bottom, they found a huge, sleek-looking boat had rammed into the dock—in fact had rammed into Matt's little speedboat, The Lorelei . Lori's namesake had been torn from its mooring and pushed against the rocks.
    The Lorelei was a goner. The powerful craft had split it in two, and it was already sinking farther under water as each wave swept over it.
    Despite the destruction, the cigarette boat's engines were still revving. They saw a man sitting in the cockpit.
    "Turn it off!" Matt shouted to him, but the man didn't respond.
    "Some drunken idiot out joyriding," he shouted to Lori. "Merry Christmas!"
    The boat's headlights were on, and one had been broken so the beam shone straight up, illuminating the side of the sandstone cliff. The big craft was jammed against what was left of their dock, its engines screaming in protest as they tried to go forward.
    "Stay back, Matt!" Lori grabbed him by the arm. "That dock's gonna go!"
    "Not if I can help it!" He shook her off and ran to the dock, then jumped the small gap to get aboard the cigarette.
    Lori could see his body language suddenly change when he came up to the figure at the wheel.
    There was a sudden silence as Matt reached around the man and turned off the engines.
    In the sudden silence Lori heard a high-pitched keening, like the cry of a gull. She ran out to the dock, which was listing crazily. Then she jumped the gap to get aboard the boat as well. Her sneakers skidded on the wet decking, but she kept her balance.
    The man at the steering wheel was not much more than a boy, maybe in his teens. A dark face, big brown eyes that were all pupil, labored breathing.
    "He's hurt, Matt."
    "Matteo," the boy whispered.
    Matt leaned over him. "Si, Enrique."
    The boy said something in Spanish. Lori caught the word milagros from the boy, then more soft words from Matt as he gently laid Ricky down on the deck.
    "What gift?" Matt asked him. "What do you owe me?"
    The boy closed his eyes and lay still.
    "We'll have to take his boat," Matt said to her. "Ours is wrecked." He pulled out his gun. "Let me check below and then you can call for help while I drive."
    She watched him cautiously move to the cabin door, then freeze. He disappeared inside.
    Lori held the boy's hand and tried to comfort him as he moaned softly, words like "angelitos" and "milagros" and then in English, "Shadow."
    Shadow? Was this someone from Matt's past; from that time when he had been the Shadow, the notorious gang member feared by the entire cartel?
    "Lori," Matt called. "Come below."
    She patted the boy's hand and then went to the cabin.
    She went through the door. The cabin had been a luxurious concoction of shining chrome and soft white leather.
    Now there were streaks of blood on the silver and white.
    And on the girl. A teenage girl—just a kid, really—with long black hair and a fiercely determined