PART IV
CHECKMATE
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The rhythmic, rapid slap of a paddle in the water sent rage running through Carter’s veins. He’d seen the headlights. Denton.
“Goddamn it.” He’d known that was Denton’s truck on the road. “Fuck!”
There was no time. He couldn’t have Andi the way he wanted her. The game wouldn’t be what he wanted.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way!
There was nothing he could do to save the moment. He looked down at the unconscious woman and gritted his teeth.
Then he leaned over her and rimmed her lips with his tongue. “Good-bye, lovely bird. . . .”
He pulled her up by the shoulders and he struggled a bit, but then she toppled into the dark water.
*
Luke heard the heavy splash into the water.
Andi!
He threw himself into paddling. He couldn’t see through the dark and the rain, but he knew it was Carter . . . and he knew Carter had thrown Andi into the water.
If he’s hurt her . . . if she’s . . .
He clamped his mind shut and ground his teeth together. He could hear the other canoe paddling furiously away, but he was focused on the spot he’d seen her go under.
Oh Andi . . . please, please . . .
Ripples were reaching him. Ten feet from where he believed Carter had tossed her out, he dove into the water, down and forward. Eyes open, he could see nothing in the black water.
He breaststroked forward underwater.
Andi . . . Andi . . . Andi . . .
His hand touched something.
Hair.
He surged forward and grabbed her by the hair, pulling upward. He surfaced and pulled up with all his strength, snagging part of her collar, then her arm, yanking her head above the surface. How long had it been? A minute? Two? Three?
He gasped for air, wrapping his arms around her chest, holding her face upward. She wasn’t breathing. Treading water, he squeezed his arm hard around her and released, did it again. God. Where was the canoe?
He whipped his head around. It was there. Ten feet away but drifting away from him.
He swam with one arm toward the canoe. It felt like forever but was probably only seconds. It took all his strength to drag her upward, tumble her inside. When he tried to scramble inside himself the canoe tipped precariously. He threw himself in, smacked his lip and rammed his funny bone, his knee hitting the blade of the other oar, which popped up enough to ram the fingers on his left hand, but he scarcely noticed.
Andi was crumpled on her side and he turned her on her back. Immediately he began CPR, pressing her chest rhythmically, praying hard inside his mind.
“Andi ... Andi ...” He didn’t realize he was saying her name.
His thoughts touched on Carter, but he yanked them back to the present. He would find the man and kill him if he had to. He didn’t give a damn. If Andi didn’t make it ...
His mind shut down.
The rain pummeled him. He realized distantly that he was cold, that she was cold, too. He had to get them out of there ... had to get to shore ...
Her chest buckled. A harsh cough. A flood of water out of her mouth.
Luke quickly lifted her shoulder, turning her onto her side, joy singing through him.
“Andi! Andi ...”
She coughed and gasped. He leaned over her, blocking the rain. She blinked her eyes and they opened dully. Her lower jaw started quivering.
“Andi, it’s Luke. You went in the lake. We’re in a canoe. Gotta get back to shore.”
“Luke ... ?”
“Yes, darling, it’s me.” He felt the burn of emotion.
“Luke, Carter ...”
“He’s gone. We’re getting back to shore now.” He stripped off his soaking jacket and lay it over her. Better another layer, even it if was a wet one.
He pulled out the oar and started paddling, seeing Andi’s white face in the bottom of the canoe.
“Jesus,” he muttered through his own chattering teeth.
By the time the canoe bumped the shore he was shaking all over. His mind was filled with black fury.
“We’ve got to get to my truck,” he whispered in Andi’s ear.
“Yes ...”
She leaned upward, and somehow they wrangled out of the canoe. Luke half-carried her to the truck, where the keys were still in the ignition, his cell phone in the cup holder where he’d left it.
Carter had been heading north, in the direction of the Wren construction site.
He picked up the phone to call Detective Rafferty.
*
Fucking Denton, Carter fumed inwardly, dragging the canoe up the bank in the rain. He knew it was that fucking investigator following him onto the lake. Luckily, he’d dumped Andi and gotten away. Did Denton know it was him? How could he . . . except that Andi had talked to Detective Rafferty and he was probably there at the time, so Denton would know he was supposed to meet her and had blown her off.