Free Swept Away 2 by J. Haymore Page A

says. “We’ll get the boat turned around, then we’ll align our course with the GPS so we retrace our route.”
    We all nod.
    “Let’s do a thorough search, see if there’s anything missing or that can give us a clue about what happened,” Ethan continues. “Once we get closer to the area where he disappeared, we can post ourselves around the boat and see if we can spot him.”
    Everyone agrees…our plan is set, and we all move into action. Nalani is losing it, though. Muttering “Oh my God, oh my God. Oh God…” as we go up onto the deck to prepare the Temptation to make a 180-degree turn.
    But as soon as I go out into the cockpit, something seems amiss. Different somehow. Wrong. I step all the way to the stern and look over the back of the boat.
    “Oh no,” I whisper. “The tender.”
    Ethan comes up behind me and stares, then Nalani and Kyle move in behind him. All of us are silent as we stare at the empty spot where the tender—the small rubber dinghy that’s used for going ashore when the Temptation is anchored—used to be.
    Finally, Kyle laughs shakily. “I guess that answers the question of whether he fell overboard.”
    None of the rest of us laugh. Why would Mick do this? Why steal the tender and leave the Temptation ?
    Ethan stands beside me, tension rolling off him in hot waves. “He knew I was on to him,” he mutters in a voice so low only I can hear.
    He’s guilty . Ethan was digging, getting close to the truth, and Mick knew. He got scared, and he left.
    Deep in my heart of hearts, I now know that the slick on the deck was deliberate. The peanut poisoning was deliberate. God knows what his motivation was, but Mick was responsible.
    I press my hand to my stomach to stanch the nausea.
    Nalani makes a strangled noise behind me. “Oh God.” For a moment, I wonder if she’s lost the rest of her vocabulary, and then she says, in a flat voice, “He took all the gas cans.”
    I turn to see that she’s opened up one of the hatches leading to a storage area in the cockpit and is gazing down into it. Ethan goes over to her and looks down into it as well. “All our extra gas?”
    She nods.
    Of course. Of course he took the gas. We’re still fairly far from land. He’ll probably need all of it to fuel the tender’s motor the rest of the way to Hawaii.
    “How much do we have left to run the engine?”
    “About a quarter of a tank.”
    “Should be enough, right?”
    “Enough to get us into the harbor?” Nalani nods. “I think so. If we don’t use the engine until we get there.”
    “Should we still go after him? Try to find him?” Kyle asks.
    “No, we shouldn’t,” Ethan says firmly. “He’s clearly fucked-up and dangerous. We need to call this in and have the coast guard deal with it.”
    “Oh God,” Nalani murmurs again. Then she straightens, shakes herself, and swivels around. She disappears through the companionway, and we all follow her back into the cabin to watch her put in the call to the coast guard.
    We head to the chart table where the radio is. She turns it on. Nothing happens. She checks the fuse, and it’s fine. The wires are fine—everything looks fine. She tries it again—nothing.
    Ethan turns to Kyle. “Go check the bridge.”
    Kyle, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it, doesn’t question Ethan’s command. He just nods and disappears.
    Suddenly, Nalani gasps. She raises her hand to the DC panel, riveting our gazes to it. My eyes flicker between the AC, DC, and inverter panels. None of the lights are illuminated on any of the panels. All three are completely dead. There’s no power.
    “Oh God,” Nalani whispers yet again. She shoos me off the sofa, removes the cushions and the hatch that leads to the battery storage underneath. The batteries are missing. Just… gone .
    Ethan, Nalani, and I stare at the empty space in silence. Then Nalani opens the drawer where the satellite phone is stored. It’s not there.
    We have no phone. Without the