As the plane passed by and the silence returned, he stepped onto the bow of the sailboat. The craft gently swayed under him; the sunlight stroked his face. He sat down and put his head against the mast, sniffed the canvas of the unfurled sail and closed his eyes. He was so damn tired.
“You look awfully comfortable.”
Startled awake, Fiske looked around before turning and seeing Sara standing there. She wore a black two-piece business suit; a white silk blouse peeked out at the neckline. Her neck was encircled with a small strand of pearls, her hair tied in a simple bun, a touch of makeup and pale red lipstick tinting her face.
She smiled. “I’m sorry I had to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully.”
“Have you been watching me long?” Fiske asked, and then wondered why he had.
“Long enough. You can take your shower now.”
He stood up and stepped back on the dock. “Nice boat.”
“I’m lucky, the riverbank drops off steeply here. I don’t have to keep it at one of the marinas. I’ll take you out if you want. We have time left before it has to be winterized.”
“Maybe.”
He walked past her toward the cottage.
“John?”He turned back. She put one hand on the stair rail and looked over at her sailboat, as though hoping to carve a wedge of calm from its tranquil frame.
“If it’s the last thing I ever do, I will make it right with your father,” she said.
“It’s my problem. You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, John, I do,” she said firmly.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Fiske drove the car out onto the private road leading to the parkway. The two black sedans flashing in front of their car made Fiske slam on the brakes. Sara screamed. Fiske jumped out of the car. He stopped as soon as he saw the guns pointed at him.
“Hands in the air,” one of the men barked.
Fiske immediately put his hands up.
Sara climbed out of the car in time to see Perkins emerge from one vehicle and Agent McKenna from the other.
Perkins spotted Sara. “Holster your weapons,” he said to the two men in suits.
McKenna’s voice boomed out. “Those men are under my command, not yours. They will holster their weapons upon my order only.” McKenna stopped directly in front of Fiske.
“Are you all right, Sara?” Perkins asked.
“Of course I’m all right. What the hell is going on?”
“I left an urgent message with you.”
“I didn’t check my messages. What’s wrong?”
McKenna’s eye caught the shotgun lying in the back seat. Now he pulled his own weapon and pointed it directly at Fiske. He studied Fiske’s injured face. “Is this man holding you against your will?” McKenna asked Sara.
“Will you stop with the dramatic crap?” said Fiske. He lowered his hands and caught a sucker punch in the gut from McKenna. Fiske dropped to his knees, gasping. Sara raced to him, helping him lean back against the car tire.
“Keep your hands up until the lady answers the question.” McKenna reached down and jerked Fiske’s hands up in the air. “Keep your damn hands up.”
Sara screamed, “No, for God’s sake, he’s not holding me. Stop it. Leave him alone!” She pushed McKenna’s hand away.
Perkins stepped forward. “Agent McKenna — ” he began, but McKenna cut him off with a cold stare.
“He’s got a shotgun in the car,” McKenna said. “You want to take a chance with your men, fine. I don’t operate that way.”
Another sedan pulled up and Chandler and two uniformed Virginia police officers climbed out, guns drawn.
“Everybody freeze!” Chandler boomed out.
McKenna looked around. “Tell your men to put away their weapons, Chandler. I’ve got the situation under control.”
Chandler walked right up to McKenna. “Tell your men to holster their weapons right now, McKenna. Right now or I’ll have these officers arrest you on the spot for assault and battery.” McKenna didn’t move. Chandler leaned directly in his face. “Right now, Special Agent Warren McKenna, or you’ll be calling the Bureau’s legal counsel from a Virginia lockup. You really want that in your record?”