Dark Tide. Susan Sleeman

      ONE

      He’d come for her again. Here in the dark—fog oozing over the edge of the floating home’s deck and clouding the Columbia River. He’d followed her from San Diego to Portland and burst through the door to her friend Lilly’s house. Splintered and hanging by a hinge, it served as a warning of his deadly determination. Gina had stepped out for only a moment, leaving her precious baby niece in her friend’s care, and now Sophia and Lilly were helpless inside.

      Gina had to rescue them, but how?

      She searched the deck, looking for something—anything—she could use to save them. Found only worn patio furniture. No weapons. Nothing to help. Nothing to do.

      How could she have been foolish enough not to realize he’d track her down? She should have known that she’d put Lilly at risk by coming to stay with her. And as for Sophia... She’d had custody of her niece for only four months. Not nearly enough time to recover from her brother’s death and barely enough time to think of Sophia as her daughter. And now, Gina had put the precious baby in danger.

      What if he’d already harmed them? Panic stole her breath.

      Calm down. They’re alive and they need you.

      Gina sensed movement on the far end of the deck before rapid footsteps cut through the quiet. She spun and searched the area. The vague outline of a burly man carrying something as he rushed toward the water emerged through the shifting fog.

      If Gina could see him, could he see her, too? She flattened her back against the houseboat bobbing in shifting waters.

      Is he carrying a body? Lilly? Oh, God! Please, no! Despite Gina’s prayer, terror crept up her throat and threatened to strangle her.

      Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. That’s it. Get it together.

      Now that he was on the deck, it was safe to check inside.

      She slipped into the hazy mist rolling over the large deck. One foot in front of the other—feeling her way through murky shadows clinging to the home.

      Squinting in the bright light of the family room, she scanned the area. The coffee table and a chair lay discarded on the floor like Sophia’s toys, lamp shards scattered nearby. There’d been a struggle.

      “Lilly!” Gina called out.

      No reply. Fear gaining a stronger hold, Gina hurried toward the bedrooms. She scanned the master. Empty. She charged down the hallway to the room she and Sophia were sharing tonight. A Winnie the Pooh nightlight burned on the far side of the room, not providing enough light for a clear look at her niece.

      Holding her breath, Gina rushed to the portable crib.

      Sophia slept in her teddy bear pajamas, her tiny bottom up in the air, a Pooh blanket discarded by her feet. Gina pressed her hand on the seven-month-old’s back. At the even rise and fall, Gina sagged against the crib.

      Thank You, God.

      She hadn’t failed her brother. Sophia was safe.

      Lilly. Where is Lilly? The thought barreled into Gina’s brain.

      Lilly would never leave Sophia alone. Never.

      Had her attacker taken Lilly, hoping Gina would swap places to save Lilly’s life?

      Gina bolted through the house and back outside. A scraping noise ground against the end of the deck, followed by a loud thump.

      Holding her breath, she crept over the slippery planks to the back of the house and listened. The river lapped against floating homes, but another noise broke the gentle rhythm—the dunk then pull of oars whispering through the night.

      To gain a clearer view, she took a few more steps toward the water and saw the stern of a small boat rowed by a large man moving away. He wasn’t masked as he’d been last night, but he was the right size and build for the man who’d attacked her.

      The boat stopped, and he stood then heaved an anchor into the water. He braced his feet wide then bent low and dragged a body from the boat.

      Lilly. Oh, no.

      He lifted her like a rag doll and pinned her against his wide chest. He drew a gun from his belt and pressed the barrel against her temple.

      No!

      Was he going to kill her? Or did he know Gina was watching and he hoped she’d show herself? She had to risk it. She ran to the edge of the deck to order him to stop and take her instead.

      The gun flashed and a pop split the silence.

      Lilly’s body sagged. The man released her, and she dropped like an anchor into the water. He stood looking down at the spot where Lilly had fallen.

      He’d shot Lilly. Killed her.

      A strangled cry came from Gina’s mouth, and she took a step back. Her heel connected with a table, knocking a container to the deck. The metallic clang, clang, clang as it rolled over the wood cut through the night, and the man’s head popped up.

      She scrambled back into the shadows. He’d killed Lilly. Right in front of her. Shot her.

      Gina dropped her head low and breathed deep to stem a wave of nausea. Still gagging, she watched the man.

      He holstered his gun and started drawing up his anchor. Hand over hand, he moved at a fast clip. He’d seen her and was coming for her next. For Sophia.

      No!

      Gina charged inside the home. She grabbed her overnight bag and slung the strap across her chest. She scooped up Sophia, Pooh blanket and all. The baby startled for a moment, and Gina hugged her close, laying her cheek against soft curls for the briefest of moments. Her sweet baby sighed then drifted back to sleep.

      Back on the deck, Gina heard the man’s oars hitting the water. Plop, swish. Plop, swish, he moved steadily closer. She had to hurry.

      She raced toward the dock, clutching Sophia in one arm and digging out her phone to call 9-1-1 with her free hand.

      “Help,” she whispered so the man couldn’t hear her. “I need help.” She blurted out her story as she heard his boat thump against the end of the deck.

      “Hurry. Send someone fast. He’s right behind me. Closing in on me faster than I’d thought.” She huffed out Lilly’s address, but she could no longer carry on a conversation and pull in enough air to run. She shoved the phone in her pocket and charged toward the gangplank that connected this small floating village with the shore.

      In the parking lot, she wished for her car, but she’d flown to Portland and arrived at Lilly’s house by taxi. She ran as hard as she could, her feet pounding toward the nearby mall.

      Heavy footfalls soon slapped on the asphalt in the distance behind her. She had to hide and hope the police arrived on time. At the nearest store, she sank into the shadows of a large Dumpster.

      A foghorn sounded from the river.

      Fog. What about the fog? Wouldn’t it slow down the police response? She couldn’t risk them not arriving in time. She had to summon more help. Preferably someone nearby.

      Derrick.

      Thankful a mutual friend had shared his cell number just after she’d arrived in town, she dialed the phone.

      Please answer, Derrick. Please. I need you.

      The thought took the last shred of her calm. She didn’t want to need him or anyone else. Didn’t deserve his help with the way she’d walked out on him.

      But she trusted him to come through for her, whether she deserved it or not. Life-and-death matters trumped pride. He’d balk at helping, but he was a man of honor. Of integrity. One who worked hard to find justice for the underdog. He’d never let her down. No matter what she’d done to him in the past.

      As reality settled in, her stomach cramped hard. Sophia’s and her own life now depended