Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

thing within easy reach was the mainsheet and the block that attached it to the traveler. If she could get it free, maybe she could swing it at him. But the block was attached with a shackle, and she quickly discovered that without some kind of a tool, there was no way it was coming apart. That’s when something caught her eye and despair turned to hope.
    In the cockpit, forward of the steering station where she was shackled to the wheel, there were cutouts in the coamings, right below the winches, one on each side. Inside each cutout was a small space that Jack used to store the winch handles when they were sailing. This made them easily accessible, but it also kept them out of the way when not in use.
    “Oh, Jack. I love you,” she thought to herself as she saw in the dark recess of the starboard cutout the glint of light on metal. Jack had left a winch handle in the cubby. She glanced at the companionway and saw no sign of Kurt, although the engine noise coming from within seemed louder. She recalled that sometimes when she and Jack were out on the boat, he would lift the floorboard to inspect some thingamajig, and when he did, the increase in noise was noticeable. If Kurt was doing something down by the engine, then he would not be able to see her if she was no longer directly behind the wheel. “Maybe …” she thought to herself.
    Max tightened the brake on the wheel so that it would not move. Then she climbed into the cockpit and reached for the shiny shape in the recessed space. It was so close, but when her fingers missed it by an inch or so, it might as well have been a mile away. That glimmer of hope turned back to despair. She tried again, and as the handcuff cut into her wrist, that despair became determination. Tuning out the pain, she did everything she could to stretch her joints for that extra inch. The cuffs cut into her wrist, which began to bleed. She twisted and rotated her arms, reaching until she felt her joints would come apart. Finally, her fingertips made contact, and ever so carefully, she pressed them to the winch handle. Then, as she willed it to move and prayed that her fingers would remain stuck to its surface, she felt it slide. From that determined effort, hope returned.
    The handle was heavy and her arms were shaking as she withdrew it from its hiding place. Slowly, carefully she moved back into the steering area with her prize. As she tucked it into the waistband of her shorts in the small of her back, a sharp, painful, throbbing began emanating from her cuffed wrist. She looked down and saw the discoloration and blood. It hurt like hell, but it was a good hurt, and now her hope turned into a confidence that she was going to prevail.

CHAPTER 102
    INSIDE THE CRUISER , Tom called the marine patrol. If they were up the river, he knew that it would take some time before they could get to Irrepressible . He hoped that they were close. They weren’t, but even as he talked to them on the radio, he could hear the unmistakable sound of their powerful engines speeding up.
    When he finished his call, he climbed out of his cruiser. He shut off his lights but left the engine running. By now a sizeable crowd had assembled, and he asked them to disperse. It was obvious that nothing of consequence was about to happen, so most returned either to Ben’s or their cars. As the last of the crowd left, only Courtney and Patti remained.
    “Okay Tom. What’s going on?” demanded Courtney. Her voice bore the force of two as she and Patti stared at him.
    “Court, I’m not entirely sure, but I believe that Kurt, the guy who broke into Jack’s and nearly killed Cat, is on the boat. I think he wants something that Jack doesn’t have. If―and I say if ―he is onboard, things could get ugly. I’ve just called the marine patrol, but they are way up the river, and it will take them more time than Jack and Max may have.”
    Courtney looked first at Tom, then at Patti, then back at Tom. The look on her face said more than any words could. She was about to open her mouth to say something when Tom’s radio crackled to life. Tom spun and returned to his car. As Courtney and Patti watched, the next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. Tom climbed into his car. He picked up his radio. They could see his lips moving. Then three things happened almost together: he dropped the radio, slammed the door shut, and hit the gas. It was all over in less than a moment. They watched him accelerate out of the