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St. Simon’s Island, GA – Mile 670

Zap!  Ping!  Screech!

Nick pushed the buttons on the side of the pinball machine and watched the flippers shoot the metal balls back into outer space, careening off asteroids and meteorites and racking up thousands of points.

Nick was thrilled when he found the arcade room after checking in at the Golden Isles.  He was tired, and he had a headache.  It had been an afternoon of intense concentration, trying to keep the Sunset Voyager in sight but not seem like he was tracking it. 

Now he just wanted to relax with some mindless activity.  He’d taken care of business when he had first arrived at the marina, getting fuel and fresh water.  He’d paid the dockage fee, emptied the holding tank and bought fresh milk.  He assumed that Pete and Jo had done similar things.  After Nick had made sure that they were indeed pulling into the Golden Isles, he ignored them.  He was sick of them.

All afternoon, Nick had studied the coastal charts carefully.  Whenever there was a stretch of shoreline with no breaks…no rivers or inlets…Nick would hold the Lenore back out of sight, confident that his quarry could not escape.  Whenever they would come up on a tributary large enough to accommodate Pete’s boat, Nick would move up to within sight of the Sunset Voyager.

A couple of times, Nick had been forced to go faster than he wanted to in order to catch the other boat.  Pete had said that the Sunset Voyager didn’t have the power and speed of the Lenore, and that was true, but it was a pretty powerful boat, nonetheless.  And Pete didn’t seem as cautious about some of the tricky areas as Nick did.

Of course, Nick mused, the Lenore was his boat.  Pete only had to worry about the ‘rich bastard from Fort Lauderdale’ who probably had lots of insurance anyway.

And, considered Nick, Pete could probably talk his way out of any trouble, probably even end up getting a bonus for having been put out by an unmarked shoal or a faulty map. 

Each time Nick got within sight of the Sunset Voyager, he saw Jordana stand up from where she was sitting on the back deck.  She’d look up toward the bridge, and if Pete wasn’t looking, Jo would turn and wave at Nick.

Nick always waved back.  Then he’d drop the speed and hang back a bit more.  Nick never noticed Pete look around.  He wondered if the other man knew what Nick was doing, and if so, what he thought about it.

“Hey, Nick!  There you are!”

Nick turned to see Pete walking toward him…alone.

“Hey, Pete!  Where’s Jo?”

“She’s back at the boat, putting on some makeup or something.  C’mon, let’s go.  I don’t like to leave her alone too long.”

“Yeah, about that…”  Nick stepped away from the pinball machine and walked after Pete who was already halfway to the door.

“About what?” asked Pete, holding the door open and ushering Nick outside.

Nick didn’t really know how to begin.  He’d rehearsed a couple of different strategies on the journey today, but he couldn’t seem to find one that didn’t sound like he was accusing Pete of something.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Nick began, “but…I mean…Jo…she seems to think…”

Pete stopped.  “What?  What’s she said?  She’s accused me of something?”

Nick didn’t think Pete looked angry or guilty.  Rather, the dark-haired man looked bewildered and hurt.

“She didn’t really say anything,” said Nick, floundering about trying to state the facts, which were essentially none.  “She just…she seems…”

“Crazy?”

For the first time, a bitter tone crept into Pete’s voice.

“Yeah, that and…paranoid too,” added Nick.  “Wouldn’t you be better off if she just went home?”

“Don’t I wish!” exclaimed Pete.  “But that’s not possible.  I have to deliver the boat on time.  I really can’t afford to miss out on the bonus.  I just can’t take time out to take her home and come back.”

“But you wouldn’t have to take her all the way home,” said Nick.  “Couldn’t you just get her to the closest airport?”  Or even just shove her in a taxi at a marina?  I mean, I’m sure she’d be happy to…”

“What would make Jordana Miles happy is anyone’s guess,” said Pete.  “It would probably take…will probably take an entire team of psychiatrists to figure that out.  But…”  Pete sighed and shook his head, “…that will have to wait for another week.  I promised Mickey I’d look after her, and I’m not letting her out of my care.”

“But…”  Nick walked quickly beside the other man.  “But what if somebody could help?  What if I…”

“Sshh,” said Pete.

They’d arrived at the Sunset Voyager.

Nick didn’t really know what to expect.  Would Jo be gone, having hightailed it for the nearest police station or army base?  Would she have frantically searched the boat and now be sitting on the deck beside a pile of weapons intent on proving that Pete meant her harm?  Would she be bound and gagged as a means of preventing either an escape attempt or a call for help?

None of these scenarios would have surprised Nick.  What did surprise him was Jordana Miles sitting calmly on the back deck waiting patiently for her so-called executioner to come and take her to dinner.

“Found him,” said Pete.  “He was in the arcade.”

Jordana nodded and gave a small smile.  “That doesn’t surprise me.  Is everyone ready for dinner?  I’m starving.  Lunch was hours ago.”

Nick could only stare.  Jo was starving?  She wanted to eat?  It didn’t sound to Nick like Pete was trying to kill her.  It sounded like he was well on his way to curing her.

Without a word, Pete held out his hand to help Jo up onto the dock.  She accepted his assistance and together, the three headed off to the restaurant, which was just a few hundred yards up the road from the marina.

Nick was completely confused.  Jo did not seem at all afraid of Pete.  And she hadn’t the other times they’d been together either, now that Nick thought about it.  It was only as she was leaving that she’d thrown out the obscure clues, or whatever they were.

“So that was a pretty long day,” said Pete, after they’d placed their orders.

“Yeah,” said Nick. “I’m pretty beat.  I’ll be hitting the bed pretty early tonight.”

“Yeah, us too probably,” said Pete.  “Especially Jo.  She didn’t get her nap today.”

Conversation stopped while the waiter placed the food in front of them.  No one spoke as they salted and peppered and prepared to eat.  Then Pete asked Nick about his favorite video games, and the two men talked about that for awhile.  Jordana kept silent, concentrating on her meal.

Nick was pleased to see that Jo was eating.  He guessed that didn’t really matter if she was just going to throw it all up later, but still, it was good to see.  Nick found it hard to concentrate on the conversation with Pete while eating and keeping an eye out for any message Jo might send.

“So how far do you think you’ll go tomorrow, Nick?” asked Pete, after the video game conversation rain out of steam.

“I don’t know,” said Nick.  “I was thinking of heading out into the ocean and just opening ‘er up, see what she can do.”

“NO!” exclaimed Jordana, loudly.  Then, she added, “Oh no, look what I’ve done.”  She grabbed her table napkin and dipped it in her glass of water.  She dabbed at a spot on her shirt.  “Omigod, I’m so clumsy.”

Jordana looked up, and her eyes met Nick’s.  There was pleading in them.

Pete looked from one to the other.  Nick tore his eyes away from Jo’s and turned to Pete.  Pete looked at him for a moment and then back at Jo, who was still nervously dabbing at her shirt.

“It looks fine, Jo,” said Pete.  “I don’t see a stain, just a wet spot.  So, Nick, I think that’s a great idea…getting out on the ocean and going for speed.  I wish I could do that with my old tug.”

Nick laughed.  “She’s hardly an old tug, Pete.  I bet she could keep pretty close to mine in a race.”

Pete shrugged.  “I’ll never get the chance to find out, will I?  I have to stick to the waterway, and there’s no way I’m opening her up in here.  I’d probably tear the bottom out of her on a shoal.”

Nick nodded.  “So what about you?  What are you planning for tomorrow?”

“We’re leaving at daylight,” said Pete.  “We’re going to plug straight through.  As pretty as this part of the shoreline is, there’s nothing much to see that we haven’t already seen.  I’ll make up some time here, and then we can slow down a bit once we hit Florida.  There’ll be lots of marvelous stuff to see then…all man-made!”

Jo stood up abruptly.  “I’m going back.  No, no, finish your beer.  I can find my own way.  Goodbye then, Nick, it was nice meeting you.”

Jordana reached out her hand and shook Nick’s firmly.  Then she turned and walked quickly out of the restaurant.

Pete signaled frantically for the check.  He drained the last of his beer in one swallow.  “C’mon, let’s go.”

Nick didn’t know what to do.  He’d been half expecting Jo to send him another coded message or to slip something into his hand when she shook it, but she hadn’t done either.

And why the abrupt departure?  And why was Pete so freaked by it?

“What’s the matter?” asked Nick.

“You know, Jo,” replied Pete, “she’s probably gone to throw up her dinner.”

“Well, you can’t stop her,” said Nick.  “It’s not your responsibility.”  Nick suddenly flashed back to AJ and his troubles.  “Pete, you can’t help her until she wants help.”

“I promised Mickey I’d take care of her,” insisted Pete.  “I can’t let her harm herself.”

Pete pocketed his change, and they left the restaurant.  They walked the short distance to the marina in silence. 

“Well, enjoy that ocean breeze tomorrow,” said Pete.  He extended his hand.  “It sure was nice meeting you, Nick.  Thanks for everything…you know.”

Nick shook Pete’s hand.  “Yeah, nice to meet you.  Sorry I missed Mickey.  As for everything… you know I could still…”

“Nah,” said Pete, “it’s like you said.  Nothing can be done until she asks for help.”  He turned and walked quickly away.

Nick watched him go and then moved in the other direction, heading for the Lenore.  He couldn’t decide what he was feeling.  He knew that Jo believed what she was saying, but Nick just couldn’t place Pete in the role of the bad guy.

It sounded to Nick as if Pete and Mickey had planned on taking Jo on this excursion to check out her mental state in a peaceful and private environment, to get some idea of where to go from here with her.  And poor Pete, through circumstances beyond his control, had become the sole caregiver, a role he readily admitted he was unsuited for.

It seemed, though, that he’d finally given up any thought of this being a vacation.  He was just going to ‘plug straight through’…get to Florida as fast as he could while trying to keep Jo from seriously harming herself.  That last part might not be so easy, thought Nick, as he approached his boat.  It was like he’d told Pete.  Nobody could do anything for Jo until she asked for help.

As Nick stepped onto the Lenore, a voice in the back of his head reminded him, “She did ask for help.  She asked you.”