foot on the top rail, gripping it with her toes. She brought her other foot up, found her balance, and slowly straightened to her full height. The water was at least twenty feet below her. Don’t think about it, she told herself, just do it.
Nancy raised her arms above her head and pushed out and off the rail, diving headfirst into the dark waters of the Atlantic.
The ocean hit her like a cold slap in the face, and it seemed as if she sank forever before she was able to start pulling herself up. Finally, though, she broke the surface. Gasping, she tossed her hair out of her face and then pulled herself toward the Rosita’s stern with strong, steady strokes.
When Nancy reached it, she stopped, treading water. The rail lights and the glow from the bonfires sent a faint path of light along the water, and in that path, about fifteen feet away, Nancy saw a dark triangular shape gliding smoothly through the waves. She wipedher eyes again and blinked, trying to tell herself that she was seeing things.
But she wasn’t. The black triangle was a shark’s fin, and as Nancy watched, frozen, she saw it swerve sharply and begin to slice through the water, heading straight for her.
Chapter
Fifteen
N ANCY FELT PANIC wash over her, colder than the water lapping at her throat. She’d done her share of detective work, but she’d never had to deal with a shark before, and she didn’t want to start then.
The shark was swimming closer. Nancy clamped her lips together, forcing back the scream that was threatening to break loose. It would surely attract attention, either the shark’s or Lila’s, and Nancy wasn’t sure which would be worse.
For several minutes, Nancy treaded water, deciding to wait until the shark did whatever itwas going to do. But she had no idea what it was going to do, and it probably didn’t either, so what was the point? Besides, waiting was just too scary. She had to move or that scream was going to escape her lips.
Not wanting to make any waves, Nancy used just her arms to pull herself smoothly toward the shore. After a moment, she realized she didn’t know where the shark was anymore—in front of her, behind her, or below her. Somehow, not knowing was more frightening than knowing, and for a while she kept looking around, trying to locate the telltale fin. But after a few minutes, she simply concentrated on getting ashore. The shark’s got the whole ocean to fish in, she kept telling herself. Why should it pick on you?
Avoiding the paths of light cast by the bonfires, Nancy swam in a wide arc, heading for a deserted part of the beach. She thought that once she got there, she could find a subtle way to join the crowd, pretending she’d always been part of it. If you get there, she reminded herself, and looked over her shoulder again. She didn’t see the shark, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t lurking somewhere, biding its time.
But Nancy couldn’t afford to bide her time. She realized she couldn’t keep up the slow pace. She was taking forever to reach the island, and she didn’t want to risk letting the Rosita get away. Sure, she could send thepolice after it eventually, but by then it might be too late for the four friends she’d left behind.
Forcing herself to forget every shark movie ever made, Nancy put her head down, started a strong, steady kick with her legs, and shot through the water like an Olympic swimmer going for the gold. She didn’t stop until she felt sand grazing her thighs, and even then she didn’t stand up. Instead, she crawled out of the water, her stomach brushing the sand, and then flopped down, hoping no one had seen her emerging from the ocean.
When she raised her head and looked toward the party, Nancy realized her fear of being seen was ridiculous. Absolutely nobody was looking her way. They were all too involved in dancing, eating, flirting, and splashing in the water. It would be simple to join them, and since the speedboats were beached close to the party,
Nancy raised her arms above her head and pushed out and off the rail, diving headfirst into the dark waters of the Atlantic.
The ocean hit her like a cold slap in the face, and it seemed as if she sank forever before she was able to start pulling herself up. Finally, though, she broke the surface. Gasping, she tossed her hair out of her face and then pulled herself toward the Rosita’s stern with strong, steady strokes.
When Nancy reached it, she stopped, treading water. The rail lights and the glow from the bonfires sent a faint path of light along the water, and in that path, about fifteen feet away, Nancy saw a dark triangular shape gliding smoothly through the waves. She wipedher eyes again and blinked, trying to tell herself that she was seeing things.
But she wasn’t. The black triangle was a shark’s fin, and as Nancy watched, frozen, she saw it swerve sharply and begin to slice through the water, heading straight for her.
Chapter
Fifteen
N ANCY FELT PANIC wash over her, colder than the water lapping at her throat. She’d done her share of detective work, but she’d never had to deal with a shark before, and she didn’t want to start then.
The shark was swimming closer. Nancy clamped her lips together, forcing back the scream that was threatening to break loose. It would surely attract attention, either the shark’s or Lila’s, and Nancy wasn’t sure which would be worse.
For several minutes, Nancy treaded water, deciding to wait until the shark did whatever itwas going to do. But she had no idea what it was going to do, and it probably didn’t either, so what was the point? Besides, waiting was just too scary. She had to move or that scream was going to escape her lips.
Not wanting to make any waves, Nancy used just her arms to pull herself smoothly toward the shore. After a moment, she realized she didn’t know where the shark was anymore—in front of her, behind her, or below her. Somehow, not knowing was more frightening than knowing, and for a while she kept looking around, trying to locate the telltale fin. But after a few minutes, she simply concentrated on getting ashore. The shark’s got the whole ocean to fish in, she kept telling herself. Why should it pick on you?
Avoiding the paths of light cast by the bonfires, Nancy swam in a wide arc, heading for a deserted part of the beach. She thought that once she got there, she could find a subtle way to join the crowd, pretending she’d always been part of it. If you get there, she reminded herself, and looked over her shoulder again. She didn’t see the shark, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t lurking somewhere, biding its time.
But Nancy couldn’t afford to bide her time. She realized she couldn’t keep up the slow pace. She was taking forever to reach the island, and she didn’t want to risk letting the Rosita get away. Sure, she could send thepolice after it eventually, but by then it might be too late for the four friends she’d left behind.
Forcing herself to forget every shark movie ever made, Nancy put her head down, started a strong, steady kick with her legs, and shot through the water like an Olympic swimmer going for the gold. She didn’t stop until she felt sand grazing her thighs, and even then she didn’t stand up. Instead, she crawled out of the water, her stomach brushing the sand, and then flopped down, hoping no one had seen her emerging from the ocean.
When she raised her head and looked toward the party, Nancy realized her fear of being seen was ridiculous. Absolutely nobody was looking her way. They were all too involved in dancing, eating, flirting, and splashing in the water. It would be simple to join them, and since the speedboats were beached close to the party,
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