Death Echo

much power as he could against the stubborn nylon threads.
    Amanar ran toward the bow, balanced on the dock’s bull-rail, and leaped for Blackbird ’s chrome railing. With a strength born of desperation, he swung his body sideways, scrambling for purchase on the varnished wooden cap of the gunwale. One foot slipped and almost spun him loose. His second foot and both hands barely kept him clinging to Blackbird .
    As desperate as his cousin, Lovich shook off grabbing hands and sprinted for Blackbird.
    The last threads of the bowline snapped.
    â€œI’ll handle Amanar,” Mac said. “Come up and take the wheel.”
    â€œNo time. Lovich is almost here.”
    Mac slapped the controls. Blackbird shuddered sideways, farther from the dock with each second.
    Emma didn’t wait to see Lovich learn that the boat was too far away. She sprinted for the bow, where Amanar still struggled to throw his weight aboard rather than hanging off the rail over the water.
    The diesels roared as Mac poured on the power. Big propellers bit into the water. Blackbird surged out well away from the docks, but he had to fight for control. Despite the obvious health of the engines, this version of Blackbird wasn’t as responsive as the previous one had been.
    Staggering to keep her feet against Blackbird ’s unpredictable changes in direction, Emma closed in on Amanar. He had hooked one foot over the cap rail and was slowly levering himself up to safety. He saw her, dismissed her as a threat, and kept trying to get the majority of his weight aboard.
    â€œWe’re repossessing the boat for its original insurer,” Emma said clearly. “If you stick to that story when you get ashore, you probably won’t go to jail.”
    Amanar saved his breath for inching his weight onto the rail.
    A knife sliced through the lace of his deck shoe, his most secure hold on the boat. His footing shifted and the shoe spun away into the dark.
    â€œIf you let go before Blackbird gains speed,” she said calmly, “you’ll survive the swim. Either way, you’re letting go.”
    â€œMy family!” he snarled. “He’ll kill them!”
    Amanar released one hand from the rail and grabbed for Emma. She ducked back, then leaped forward before he could recover.
    The knife blade flashed in the harbor lights.
    Amanar screamed and dropped into the black water. Five seconds later he surfaced, cursing and shouting loud enough to be heard over Blackbird ’s engines.
    All Emma understood was “Temuri will kill you!”
    He’ll have to catch me first, she thought.
    As Amanar started swimming toward the fuel dock, she opened the door to the pilot house and slipped inside behind Mac.
    â€œYou always play with your food?” he asked, steering and tugging off his gloves at the same time.
    â€œI didn’t know he was stupid to the bone.”
    â€œHuh. What was that about Temuri and family?”
    She frowned. “Something about killing them. And me.”
    â€œThat would explain it.”
    â€œWhat?” she asked, stripping off her gloves.
    â€œAs crooks go, Stan and Bob aren’t even close to Temuri’s league,” Mac said. “But if their families are being held hostage, both cousins would do whatever they had to however they could to keep their families safe.”
    â€œI’ll mention possible hostages in my report,” Emma said.
    Her fingers worked over the waterproof belly bag that was fastened to her waist. Her phone was in there somewhere. And her head itched beneath the knit cap. She had never gotten along well with wool.
    Mac’s hands worked over switches and buttons, changing the readouts on the nav chart, depth sounder, and engine to what he was familiar with. One of the trim tabs was set oddly. He started to change it, felt the boat stagger, and quickly returned the starboard setting to its previous position.
    Something in the galley rattled, then settled.
    â€œWhat was that?” she asked.
    â€œTrash can. Those boys love their beer.”
    The radio spit static, then words.
    â€œDon’t touch it,” Mac said quickly. “We listen, but we don’t answer.”
    Emma scratched beneath the snug-fitting cap. “I told Amanar that we were repossessing the boat. If he gets smarter by the time he swims to the dock, he’ll go with that story.”
    â€œMaybe,” Mac said.
    â€œI hope St. Kilda is able to help the