Test Pilot's Daughter: Revenge (22 page)

“
You sure your phone isn’t tapped?”

“
Of course, I’m sure. Why would anyone tap the phone of a respectable Psychology professor? I’m a pillar in the community.”

“
I’m just afraid somebody might start looking into your past and get suspicious. Right now they seem to be grasping for straws.”

“
And to what past are you referring? I’m clean as a whistle.”

“
Sure. How about that eleven-year-old girl you sodomized back in ‘85? I’m sure the police have some record of that.”

“
Oh yeah,
I remember,” Weston snickered. “I think her name was Barbara. That’s right, she was my little Barbie Doll.”

“
It was a real tragedy. Only problem is, the girl liked it, and she keeps coming back for more. Fifteen years of perverted sex and drugs, who would’ve thought the edge would last?”

“
That’s because you never fail to throw in a new wrinkle. As far as I can tell, you’re the only person sicker than I am. Okay, that’s enough bullshit. Cut the crap, I want to know what happened.”

“
Well,” she said, “it worked like a dream.”

“
So, fill me in.”

“
I slipped Hank the drugs in a Coke can, and he slammed it down hard, like it was mother’s milk. He was in the air not ten minutes later. I took off behind them and, when I was sure he was out, I cancelled his flight plan, just like you said.”

“
Oh, rich, that’s just too good. What then?”

“
Controllers were quite busy; no one questioned it. The autopilot kept them going for a while, but eventually I knew they’d go in the drink. I tried to watch ‘em hit the water, but the visibility was poor. Finally lost ‘em in the haze. Didn’t want to drop my altitude. You got nothing to worry about, Stevie boy. Your little Heather is safely planted on the bottom of the Atlantic.”

“
Well, I wish you had called days ago. One of the passengers was a pilot, and I was just terrified she’d figure out how to fly that plane. If customs had discovered poison, there would’ve been hell to pay.”

“
What pilot? That tall bitch? She’s no pilot. Just a girl with big dreams.”

“
Don’t be too sure. That
girl
came from a long line of aviators.”

“
No matter, they’re all dead,” Gilmore said with confidence. “Mission accomplished. Now let’s talk about something more exciting. I think I’ve got something that might interest you.”

“
Oh yeah, what?”

“
I found a girl on the streets in Key West. A runaway. She was pretty drugged when I took her in.”

“
What does she look like?” he asked.

“
Skinny little thing, but real cute. The good news is, she’ll do anything for money or drugs. Already proved that. ”

“
What about family?”

“
She’s Cuban. Somehow managed to get here without her parents. I think some of ‘em drowned on the trip.”

“
Interesting,” he said. “How old is she?”

“
Not sure. Claims she’s sixteen, but can’t be more than twelve.”

“
How quick can you get her here?”

“
Depends. I’m in serious need of cold cash. If you can cough up ten grand, I’ll have her there by tomorrow afternoon.”

“
I’ll give you a check for $5,000, once I’ve seen her, and a doctor verifies she’s clean. We can take her to a friend of mine here in town.”

“
No, that’s not enough. I want $2,000 on delivery and $5,000 more once she gets her bill of health. Believe me, you don’t have to worry about diseases. I got to her first. She hasn’t had sex with anybody but me. Squeaky clean.”

“
Okay,” he said. “But if I don’t like her looks, I’m not paying a dime.”

“
Trust me.”

“
You just get her up here by tomorrow afternoon. We’ll have ourselves a little party for three.”

Chapter Sixteen

Early morning sun illuminated the ocean haze with a warm glow. A gentle breeze caressed the shore with the rich smell of sea life. Christina awoke to a feeling of wellbeing. With ugly images partially erased, she began to recover her wits. She took charge once again, determined to transform her gut-wrenching pain into action. Even more committed to find a way out, she obsessed with stopping Weston before he could ever strike again.

Heather sat up when she heard Christina stir. Her eye was black, and she was covered in bruises and abrasions, but her brain seemed to be working fine.

“
Why don’t we just get in that boat Billy found and get the hell out of here, Christina?”

“
Yeah, those guys had to come from somewhere,” Billy joined in. “It has a half tank of gas. If we can figure out where they came from, maybe we can get there.”

Christina scratched her head and summarized the situation with a cool, calculated tone. “Okay, we have a fishing boat with fuel and a compass. We can assume they burned half their gas getting here. That means we should be within striking distance of civilization. Only problem is, we don’t know the direction. If we go the wrong way and run out of gas, we’ll be worse off trying to survive in a dead boat. Since we can’t see any other islands, and we don’t have a map, it would be foolish to just take off. On the other hand, we know the Bahamas chain runs from northwest to southeast. We could head in either of those directions and have a decent chance of finding something.”

“
We’ve got to try,” Heather said. “It’s only a matter of time before some other bastards find us out here and try to kill us for that plane.”

“
We could camouflage the plane with brush and quit burning fires,” reasoned Billy, “but then how would we ever get rescued? If the bad guys come again, we have weapons. We just have to keep up our guard.”

Christina continued, “It was pretty hazy when we came down, but I don’t remember seeing any other islands.”

Billy’s eyes lit up with a flash of insight.

“
I got it. Why don’t we take the boat and head either southeast or northwest until we’ve used half the remaining fuel. If we don’t find anything, we reverse course and come back here, no worse off.”

“
Brilliant, Billy!” Heather exclaimed. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“
Well, that’s putting a lot of faith in a gas gauge that may not be accurate,” warned Christina. “But, quite frankly, I can’t think of anything better. Okay then, that’s our plan. Let’s gather whatever might be useful in the boat, and go for it.”

“
Wait a minute, I’ve got an even better idea.” Heather’s eyes lit up. “Why don’t we siphon the remaining gas out of the plane and put it in the boat? That way we can search a much larger area.”

“
Good thinking,” Christina praised her logic. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“
Nope, won’t work,” Billy said with a frown.

“
Why not?”

“
It said Diesel Only. I’m afraid it’s an inboard diesel.”

“
Back to Plan A,” Christina sighed. “Well then, which direction?”

“
How about some female intuition?” Billy suggested. “Why don’t you ladies just pick one or the other?”

Christina and Heather simultaneously pointed in opposite directions, and all three laughed. So much for female intuition.

“
I’m not feeling very intuitive,” Christina confessed. “Let’s go with Heather.”

“
Okay, northwest toward Florida,” Billy agreed.

“
Well, Florida is at least 200 miles away,” Christina stated bluntly, “but good enough, northwest. Maybe we can make it to Andros.”

After a few hours of cleaning the camp and organizing supplies, they were ready to go. Christina stowed all their fresh water, fishing and diving equipment, the flare gun and some of the survival gear. Billy brought both pistols, one rifle and the large hunting knife in case they came across the wrong kind of “civilization.” Before they left the island, Christina powered up the GPS and recorded their exact longitude and latitude. If they got lucky and found some help, the remains of Hank and Jessica could be recovered.

The three survivors pushed the boat off the sand and walked it out into deeper water. The perfect gentleman, Billy, gave the girls a boost over the side before climbing in.

“
Anybody know how to operate this thing?” Christina asked.

“
Sure. It can’t be that much different from my dad’s diesel-powered sailboat,” said Heather. She turned the key, pushed the button labeled START, and the inboard diesel lumbered into action.

“
It’s very important we hold a precise heading, try 315. Even a small error, and we won’t be able to get back.” Christina shuddered at the thought. Marking the panel by the fuel indicator, she added, “William, your job is to watch that fuel gauge. When the needle is dead centered on that mark, we have to return. Let’s hold the speed down to about fifteen knots and try to get a good distance out of our fuel.”

Heather pushed the throttle forward and turned the boat to a heading of 315 degrees. She accelerated to fifteen knots and tried to hold a constant speed. With the breeze blowing her hair, she squealed with joy, “My God, it feels so good to be going somewhere!”

Luckily, the sea was calm. After weeks on that hot, sandy tract, Christina loved the feel of the salty wind in her face. She prayed silently,
God help us find our way.

After about twenty minutes, they saw an island rise up on the horizon, dead ahead. All three were jumping up and down like cheerleaders. Soon, they could see it wasn’t much of anything, and passing the length of it, it was clearly uninhabited. Disappointed Christina stood on her tiptoes carefully scanning the horizon with binoculars. She hoped to see one of the larger Bahamian landmasses. Over the next hour, they passed several more pockets of sand, but none offered rescue.

Time passed slowly as Heather carefully held her heading. “If only we had enough fuel,” she said. “We could just keep going all the way back home.”

The great expanse of ocean seemed endless. On several occasions they thought they saw something important, but it always turned out to be a cloud on the horizon or a hazy mirage. They saw porpoise, sharks and flying fish, but no signs of humanity. After a two-hour run, Billy moved up to Christina and yelled, “Okay, that’s it, we’re dead on the mark.”

She signaled Heather to cut the throttle, and they slowed to a stop.

“
Billy, stand on the bow and hoist Heather up on your shoulders.”

He looked like he’d been asked to eat a Haagen-Dazs ice cream bar. Heather climbed aboard, and Billy held her legs tight and grinned. She slowly scanned the horizon with the powerful binoculars and saw absolutely nothing but miles and miles of blue-green water. Disillusioned, Christina knew that if they just kept going, there was a chance of success. But she also knew the lives of Billy and Heather were in her hands. One wrong move, and they might all three suffer a slow, painful death.

“
Gotta turn around and go back,” Christina ordered.

“
Aye aye, Captain,” Billy saluted loyally.

“
Wait a minute,” Heather said. She sounded desperate. “We should just keep going. Bound to find something in another twenty or thirty miles.”

“
No, we stick with the plan.”

“
To hell with the plan! We’ve got to find some help.”

“
Heather, don’t you think we should make sure our friend William here lives through this ordeal?” Christina asked.

“
Damn right!” screamed Heather. “And if we keep going, he’ll be home in no time.”

“
But what if we don’t find anything?”

“
We will.”

“
Come on, Heather, think it through. If we run out of gas we’ll be drifting across hurricane alley at the worst time of year. How would you like to be caught in this little piece of shit boat riding thirty-foot waves? On our island, we have a good supply of food and water, some form of shelter and a better chance of being rescued,” Christina reasoned.