turn back now. She was only a few feet away from the old boathouse. A moment later her hand was on the door. She opened it and quickly stepped through into the dark interior. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light seeping through the cracks. In another half hour she wouldn’t have been able to see at all, and she wouldn’t dare turn on a light if there was one.
A small cabin cruiser was tethered inside the boathouse, but that was all Guinevere could see. Disappointment welled up in her, mitigating the fear. She didn’t know what she had expected to find, but she sure hadn’t found it. The door closed behind her as she walked over to the cruiser. In the shadows it appeared to be a sleek craft, obviously built for speed.
Guinevere listened for a moment, but all she heard was the rain on the tin roof. Would she be able to hear the sound of approaching footsteps on the dock outside? Even if she did it would be too late to do anything about it. She would be trapped. The only way back to shore was along that narrow dock.
As long as she was here, Guinevere thought, she would just take a quick look inside the boat’s cabin. It was a pity to waste the adrenaline. Carefully she eased herself into the boat and made her way to the neat cabin. There wasn’t much to see. It looked exactly the same as the cabin of any other small boat. There was no gun casually left lying on the seat.
But then, she told herself, Cassidy wouldn’t casually leave a gun lying on the seat. He’d put it somewhere safe. Perhaps a small cupboard or shelf that would be conveniently within reach of the boat’s pilot. Remembering to use a handkerchief, Guinevere began cautiously opening doors. She didn’t see anything that appeared to be dangerous or incriminating, but in the dim light it was difficult to be sure. She was about to give up when she eased open one last drawer built into the pilot’s console. A flat black wallet lay folded inside. She pulled it out and flipped it open.
Luke Cassidy
Drug Enforcement Administration
She barely had time to examine the official-looking identification, which included a picture of Cassidy, when her question about being able to hear footsteps on the dock was answered.
Cassidy’s slightly uneven stride was unmistakable, even over the sound of the rain on the roof. Guinevere was trapped, and she knew it. She shoved the leather wallet back into the small drawer and scrambled out of the boat.
And then the excitement that had driven her this far metamorphosed instantly into outright panic.
Chapter Six
The only exit from the boathouse was through the door, unless one counted the water as a potential way out. Guinevere froze on the dock, aware of the deceptively gentle slap of the chilly water against the boat and the wood planks beneath her feet. When she looked down all she could see was endless darkness. The thought of going into that was enough to make her dizzy.
The shock from an unplanned immersion into the cold water would be almost unbearable. The thought of trying to explain her presence in the boathouse to Cassidy was just as unthinkable.
Cassidy’s footsteps paused just outside the door.
Summoning up what seemed an incredible amount of willpower Guinevere managed to tiptoe around the dock to the far side of the small cruiser. Its bulk now loomed between her and the door. She crouched in the shadows, praying that Cassidy would not enter the boathouse—or if he did, would not do more than glance casually around. Very little light was seeping into the old structure now. The shadows were welcome.
There was no sound at all from outside the door. Guinevere took several deep breaths and tried to crouch down even more. She was on her knees on the other side of the cruiser. The wooden planks, she discovered to her dismay, were wet, and the dampness was already penetrating the fabric of her pants. The water suddenly seemed very close. The sharp tang of it filled her nostrils.
She
A small cabin cruiser was tethered inside the boathouse, but that was all Guinevere could see. Disappointment welled up in her, mitigating the fear. She didn’t know what she had expected to find, but she sure hadn’t found it. The door closed behind her as she walked over to the cruiser. In the shadows it appeared to be a sleek craft, obviously built for speed.
Guinevere listened for a moment, but all she heard was the rain on the tin roof. Would she be able to hear the sound of approaching footsteps on the dock outside? Even if she did it would be too late to do anything about it. She would be trapped. The only way back to shore was along that narrow dock.
As long as she was here, Guinevere thought, she would just take a quick look inside the boat’s cabin. It was a pity to waste the adrenaline. Carefully she eased herself into the boat and made her way to the neat cabin. There wasn’t much to see. It looked exactly the same as the cabin of any other small boat. There was no gun casually left lying on the seat.
But then, she told herself, Cassidy wouldn’t casually leave a gun lying on the seat. He’d put it somewhere safe. Perhaps a small cupboard or shelf that would be conveniently within reach of the boat’s pilot. Remembering to use a handkerchief, Guinevere began cautiously opening doors. She didn’t see anything that appeared to be dangerous or incriminating, but in the dim light it was difficult to be sure. She was about to give up when she eased open one last drawer built into the pilot’s console. A flat black wallet lay folded inside. She pulled it out and flipped it open.
Luke Cassidy
Drug Enforcement Administration
She barely had time to examine the official-looking identification, which included a picture of Cassidy, when her question about being able to hear footsteps on the dock was answered.
Cassidy’s slightly uneven stride was unmistakable, even over the sound of the rain on the roof. Guinevere was trapped, and she knew it. She shoved the leather wallet back into the small drawer and scrambled out of the boat.
And then the excitement that had driven her this far metamorphosed instantly into outright panic.
Chapter Six
The only exit from the boathouse was through the door, unless one counted the water as a potential way out. Guinevere froze on the dock, aware of the deceptively gentle slap of the chilly water against the boat and the wood planks beneath her feet. When she looked down all she could see was endless darkness. The thought of going into that was enough to make her dizzy.
The shock from an unplanned immersion into the cold water would be almost unbearable. The thought of trying to explain her presence in the boathouse to Cassidy was just as unthinkable.
Cassidy’s footsteps paused just outside the door.
Summoning up what seemed an incredible amount of willpower Guinevere managed to tiptoe around the dock to the far side of the small cruiser. Its bulk now loomed between her and the door. She crouched in the shadows, praying that Cassidy would not enter the boathouse—or if he did, would not do more than glance casually around. Very little light was seeping into the old structure now. The shadows were welcome.
There was no sound at all from outside the door. Guinevere took several deep breaths and tried to crouch down even more. She was on her knees on the other side of the cruiser. The wooden planks, she discovered to her dismay, were wet, and the dampness was already penetrating the fabric of her pants. The water suddenly seemed very close. The sharp tang of it filled her nostrils.
She
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