The woman’s voice hitched. “We gave it to him for his birthday last month. He knows we don’t want him going far offshore with it.”
Sam looked at Kate. She could see by the hard set of his jaw that he didn’t think this was a case of an overprotective mother worrying about a wayward teenager. “Mrs. Genero,” he asked carefully. “Do you have a description of the woman your son was last seen with?”
There was a muffled sob. “That’s why I called this number. From what Armando’s friends said, she sounds as if she could be that woman on the news. The one who’s wanted for murder.”
The police helicopter swooped low over the headland. Shadows from the setting sun stretched across the sand and into the surf like camouflage stripes, making it difficult to focus on the change from light to dark. Sam kept the binoculars pressed to his eyes as he peered through the window.
The surveillance net wasn’t yet fully in place. Most boats had made it to their assigned grids, but there were still holes. Nevertheless, he believed Kate’s idea for a low-key blockade by civilian vessels was already proving to be a good one. Otherwise, Chambers might not have dared to come out of hiding so soon.
“We’re coming up to the beach now, sir.” The pilot’s voice came through Sam’s headset. “This was the spot where the boy was last seen, right?”
“Yes,” Sam said into his mike. “Can you drop your speed so we can get a better look?”
As the helicopter slowed, Sam continued his scrutiny of the area. There was a man tossing a stick for a dog, an elderly couple strolling along the tide line and a few cars parked in the lot on top of the bluff. The police were on their way and would arrive within minutes to do a ground search. This helicopter was the first on the scene.
“Do you see anything, Sam?” Kate asked, her voice crackling in his headphones.
“Not yet.” Sam didn’t lower his binoculars as he replied to Kate’s question. He knew she was peering through a pair of her own as the pilot headed along the coast. “What about you?”
“Two fishing vessels, a moored sloop but nothing matching the description of the boy’s boat. This could be a wild-goose chase.”
“That’s a possibility, but we can’t afford to dismiss it.”
“I agree. The boy’s mother sounded distressed.”
“I don’t blame her. Her kid was last seen playing touchy-feely with a woman in a bikini. Given the lure of sex, a kid that age would be willing to do just about anything.”
There was a silence. Sam could have kicked himself for bringing up the topic.
What he’d said was true, though. Men of all ages tended to put their common sense on hold when it came to sex. He was no different. It didn’t matter how many times he reminded himself of Kate’s disinterest, he still responded to her.
Well, if she didn’t want his interest, she should stop wearing that gardenia perfume, he thought irritably. And stop sitting so close.
He frowned. He knew he was being unreasonable. Neither of them had any choice in the seating arrangements in this helicopter. If they had, Kate would probably have opted for a perch on the landing strut. He instructed the pilot to fly a pattern of parallel sweeps that would take them progressively farther from the shore.
As the helicopter started its fourth sweep, Kate spoke. “I see something that looks like debris in the water about a hundred yards to starboard.”
The pilot brought the helicopter around in a stomach-wrenching one-hundred-eighty degree turn.
Sam felt Kate’s warmth as she leaned toward him to look past his shoulder. “Over there. Do you see the colors?”
Something red glinted on the crest of a swell. Sam adjusted the focus on his binoculars. Red, yellow and blue stripes flowed in a listless swirl on the surface of the water. “Looks like a sail. Fits the description of the one on the kid’s boat.”
The pilot brought them closer. The rotor’s backwash pushed the water into a circle of fuzzy waves.
A long white object glistened in the spray.
“Could be a hull,” Sam said.
The object bobbed in the turbulence from the helicopter, revealing a long, thin keel.
“That’s a hull, all right,” Kate said. “It must be the Genero boy’s boat.”
“Any sign of Chambers or the boy?”
“Not here.”
Sam instructed the pilot to radio their coordinates to search and rescue for assistance as they began a slow, methodical examination of the area.
“If Chambers was aboard that boat,” Sam muttered, “our mission could be over. She might not have survived her escape attempt.”
“Let’s hope she didn’t take the life of an innocent boy with her,” Kate said.
“Yeah. From what we’ve learned about her, I doubt if she’d have cared.”
“We’ve got to find him,” Kate said, startling Sam by slipping her hand onto his knee. “We can’t let him die.”
He lowered his binoculars to look at her. “We’ll do our best, Kate.”
She was leaning toward the window, her frame stiff with tension. She didn’t take her gaze from the sea. “Armando’s mother said he’s only sixteen. Imagine what she must be going through. He’s barely started to live.”
She probably didn’t realize that she was touching him, Sam thought. She was so intent on scanning the waves, she wasn’t aware of what she’d done.
But Sam was. From his knee to his groin, he was extremely aware.
This was the first hint of passion Kate had shown. Okay, it was because of her duty, not him, but at least it was something. She’d always been a passionate woman. It was good to know his memory hadn’t misled him about that much.
He lifted his hand to give hers a reassuring squeeze. Before he could complete the motion, he reconsidered.
If he touched her, she would doubtless snatch her hand away. She would draw herself up in that cool way she had and make some comment about not letting personal feelings interfere with their duty. Sure, she was the one who had touched him this time, but she hadn’t meant to. His hand hovered above hers for a long moment before he closed his fist on empty air and turned to the window.
Five minutes later and four hundred yards farther out, they spotted the boy. His arm was hooked over a piece of what must have been the mast. He didn’t acknowledge the arrival of the helicopter. His face was drained of color, his eyes closed. He appeared to be unconscious.
“Bring us down as low as you can,” Sam instructed the pilot.
“Sir, the swells are too high to risk going lower. Search and rescue has our coordinates and will arrive—”
“Too damn late,” Sam said. “The kid’s going to slip under with the next wave.” He took off his headset and got out of his seat.
Kate twisted to face him, shouting over the noise of the engine. “Sam, what are you going to do?”
“Give Armando some company.” He kicked off his shoes and moved to the door. “It’s no fun to swim alone.”
“Sam, this helicopter doesn’t have a winch. There’s no way we can get you back on board.”
“No problem. The kid and I will hitch a ride with the rescue launch.”
“Sam, no!”
Without further discussion, Sam opened the door in the side of the helicopter, lowered himself to the landing strut, then jumped.
Full darkness had fallen twenty minutes ago, but the pier was