There was no time for any of that.
Chase used every nautical skill he’d ever acquired to outrun the speedboat. He thought he heard gunshots, but the sounds were drowned out by the roar of the wind and the scream of the engine. A dozen boats appeared ahead, stopped and bobbing in the choppy water. Red and blue strobes flashed, and he realized they’d encountered some kind of police blockade. He could hear a voice booming over a loudspeaker, but he couldn’t make out the words. Did the blockade have something to do with the kidnapping of the vice president?
Chase made a sharp turn toward the New England Aquarium. Beyond, he could see the low profile of the Long Wharf Marriott Hotel and Christopher Columbus Park. Knowing they weren’t going to be able to escape on the water, Chase headed toward the park.
If he and Lily could disembark safely and he could get his hands on a car, they would be home free. No one could outdrive Chase Vickers. He could lose them in the chaos and traffic then drive Lily to Shane’s house in New Hampshire. From there they could put their heads together and try to figure out what the hell was going on.
Chase didn’t slow when he entered the hotel marina’s no-wake zone. Twenty yards from the dock, he cut the engines and cranked the wheel hard to the right. The Bertram slipped sideways through the water. Chase saw the pier approach at an alarming rate of speed. Old tires were chained to the concrete piers as bumpers. Hopefully, the rubber padding provided by the tires would be enough to keep the impact from breeching the hull.
“We’re going too fast!” Lily shouted behind him.
“Hold on!”
Chase jumped from the bridge to the deck. Lily spun toward him, terror registering in her eyes. A glance at the dock told him they would impact in just a few seconds. Wrapping his arms around her, he pushed her to the deck just as the big boat slammed into the pier.
Fiberglass crunched as the pier tore into the starboard hull. The impact knocked him hard against the live-bait well, but he rolled and was able to use his body to protect Lily.
Abruptly, the vessel went still. Chase jumped to his feet and looked around. His legs were shaking. He glanced down, saw Lily on her hands and knees, and guilt stabbed him like a dagger.
“Easy does it.” Bending, he set his hands on her shoulders and gently helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?”
Brushing flyaway hair from her eyes, she raised her eyes to his and jerked her head once. “That was some parking job, Vickers.”
“Miscalculated. Came in too fast. Guess I’m getting too old for this.”
An emotion flashed in her eyes, but it was gone so fast he wasn’t sure of its meaning. He glanced over his shoulder at the mouth of the marina. He saw the men in the speedboat fifty yards out. He could hear the engine idling down.
“Let’s get out of here.” Stepping onto the gunwale, he took her hand and helped her onto the dock. “We need a car.”
“Do you know someone in the area?”
He shook his head. “Might have to borrow one.”
“What’s one more felony on top of a dozen others?” Glancing back at the damaged Bertram, she choked out a laugh. “Remind me not to ever let you borrow my car.”
“Spoilsport.” Spotting the low profile of a well-known waterfront hotel, he took her hand. “Come on. There’s a parking garage not far from here.”
They left the dock and crossed the asphalt to the grassy plain of Christopher Columbus Park. Chase felt exposed being out in the open. Every couple of seconds he looked over his shoulder.
Hand in hand, they crossed Atlantic Avenue. Chase was keenly aware of Lily’s hand, small and warm within his. Midway down the block, he spied a six-level parking garage.
“This looks like a good place,” he said.
“What about the security guard?” Lily pointed to a windowed booth where a lone attendant read a book.
“That’s why they make back doors.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Chase was familiar with the garage; he’d parked here once or twice before, when he’d had business downtown. It was always packed with vehicles. The key was going to be finding one that was unlocked. People were so damn security conscious these days.
They crossed a quiet side street to an exit where a row of three mechanical arms stood in the down position. Ducking under the farthest arm, Chase led Lily to the rear of the garage where he went from car to car, checking each for an unlocked door.
He tried six cars before finding one that wasn’t locked. The four-door Toyota sedan wasn’t his vehicle of choice; he much preferred good old-fashioned American engineering and a gas-guzzling, muscle-car engine, but it would do in a pinch.
“No keys,” Lily pointed out. “How do we start it?”