I hung there for a time, trying to catch my breath, my legs dragging along the top of the water as the boat sped along. The thought of having to do more nearly brought me to tears. My arms were spent; my legs weren’t that much better. I trembled all over as fatigued muscles revolted, but I started my climb, stopping for air and rest every rung or two. Both hands were covered in bleeding blisters, my forearms in welts. Grabbing for the ladder, I’d scraped the skin from my knuckles and they were bleeding, too. My jeans, shirt, and sock clung to me like a second skin and felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds. Every rung was both triumph and suffering as the wind batted at my face. Spada wasn’t fooling around. He meant to get as far away from the cops as he could get on one tank of boat gas.

At the top, I swung my legs up and over and slid spread-eagled onto the slippery deck of the Magnifique—all in, but lucky to be alive. I squinted up, but couldn’t see the captain’s chair from where I lay, but if I couldn’t see it, Spada couldn’t see me, either, and that was a good thing. I took a moment to breathe, rest, center. Jung. Right. He was probably below deck. I needed to get there.

I counted to twenty, giving myself just a little more time, and then stood, my legs trembling, my body compensating for the sway of the boat. Suddenly the boat’s engine stopped and the boat went whisper quiet. Why? I bolted for cover, crouching low, and slammed chest first into a dark niche under the boat’s overhang, my wet Nikes squeaking. It wasn’t much cover, the niche. If Spada passed by, he’d surely find me, but I had nowhere else to go.

Had I been spotted? Is that why the boat stopped? I made a move, and my shoes squeaked again. I had to ditch them. I kicked them off, along with my socks, but I couldn’t leave them here; I underhanded the shoes and socks into the lake. Good money gone to waste. I checked my gun, tucked into the holster at my back. The Glock was soaked, just as I was. I held the muzzle downward to drain the water out of it, and then waited for another chance to move.

Above me, I heard Spada leave the wheel and head toward the cabin door. I tracked the sound of his footsteps overhead all the way to the narrow stairs, listening as the cabin door opened and then shut behind him. I needed to get Jung and me off this boat alive. I didn’t much care how Nick Spada left it.

Chapter 48

Chapter 48