Sail. Part 1

Sail.

by James Patterson.

One

EASING THROUGH the marina's sapphire-blue water at a leisurely three-knot clip, Captain Stephen Preston took a long pull off his Marlboro Red, casually flicking the ash into the cool island breeze. Then, after waiting for just the perfect moment, he punched the horn of his forty-six-foot Bertram Sport Fisherman until everyone on the dock stopped to look.Yeah, that's right, boys and girls, take a gander at what Captain Steve reeled in!It was a quarter past eleven in the morning. His charter, theBahama Mama, wasn't due back to sh.o.r.e until that afternoon at two, the same time as always.But today was different.f.u.c.kin' A it's different,thought Captain Steve, hitting the horn another time. When you spear the biggest, baddest giant bluefin tuna ever seen around the Bahama Islands, you're done fishing for the day. h.e.l.l, you might as well be done fishing for the year!"What do you think she's worth?" asked Jeffrey, theMama 's first mate and Steve's brother. He'd been with the boat for eleven years. Never took a sick day. And rarely ever smiled, before that morning anyway."I dunno," replied Captain Steve, pulling on the rim of a Boston Red Sox cap. "I'd guess she's worth somewhere between a boatload of money and as.h.i.t load."Jeffrey continued to smile widely beneath the brim of the tattered green visor he always wore. He knew a tuna this size could fetch upwards of $20,000, cash money, maybe even more if the sushi bidders at the Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo liked what they saw. And why wouldn't they?Whatever the amount, he was in line to get a very healthy cut. The captain was good that way, a fair man in every sense."Are you sure those bozos signed the contract, Jeff?" Captain Steve asked.Jeffrey glanced toward the stern at the six-man bachelor party from the island of Manhattan. They'd been drinking since sunrise, when the trip began, and were already so stinking drunk they could barely high-five each other without falling overboard."Yeah, they signed the contract, all right," said Jeffrey with a slow nod. "Though I doubt they ever read the fine print."If they had read the contract carefully, they'd have known that no binge-drinking, sunburned tourists would ever pocket a dime off a giant bluefin tuna. No way, not on theBahama Mama. One hundred percent of the proceeds went directly to the captain and the crew. Period, end of Big Fish story."Well, then," said Captain Steve, cutting the boat's twin engines as they approached the dock, "let's go cause a scene."

Two

SURE ENOUGH, even in the ultra-laid-back Bahamas it took less than a New York minute for a large and curious throng to gather around the fishing boat, the buzz swelling as a forklift carried the humongous tuna toward the marina's official scale.Christ, was that scale even big enough?Captain Preston beamed, giving a hearty slap to the back of the groom-to-be and announcing that he'd never met a finer bunch of anglers in all his life. "You guys are the best," he said. "And you proved it today.""Rather be good than lucky!" one guy shouted back.Of course, the truth would stay strictly between him and Jeff. These big-city misfits had no clue what they were doing. They couldn't catch a cold, let alone a fish.Yet here they all were, basking in the relentlessclick, click, click of digital cameras-the crowd, the excitement, the antic.i.p.ation of the weigh-in growing bigger by the second."Tie her up good!" urged Captain Steve as the tail of the tuna was wrapped with double-braided rope, the strongest on hand.On the count of three, she was hoisted high into the air. The crowd oohed and aahed appreciatively. This was some fish.Six hundred . . . seven hundred . . . eight hundred pounds!The arm of the scale shot up like a rocket. When it finally settled at a record-busting 912 pounds, the entire marina let out a tremendous roar, the bachelor-party guys loudest of all.And that's when it happened.Plunk!Something very strange fell out of the tuna's mouth.

Three

THE MYSTERIOUS STOWAWAY landed on the dock and rolled right up to Captain Stephen Preston's knee-high black rubber boots."What the h.e.l.l is that?" someone asked from the back. "Let us in on the joke."But everyone else could see plain as day what it was. A c.o.ke bottle. The old-fashioned kind, real gla.s.s."That's some funny-lookin' bait you used, Steve," joked a captain from another boat.The crowd laughed as Steve bent and scooped up the bottle. He held it up to the bright morning sun and immediately scratched his head of curly blond hair. There was something inside.What the h.e.l.l was it?Quickly he removed the makeshift seal of a small plastic bag held tight by a knot made of vines. This was getting stranger by the minute. With two shakes he was able to reach the edge of the contents with his pinkie.He pulled it out.It wasn't paper-more like some kind of fabric. And there was writing on it."What's it say?" asked Jeffrey.The entire dock was silent as Steve Preston read the note to himself. The words were written in a deep crimson color, smudged but still legible.Could that be blood? he was wondering now.And whose blood is it?"C'mon, what's it say?" asked Jeffrey again. "You're killin' us with suspense."Captain Steve slowly turned the note so that those around him could see for themselves. The collective gasp that followed was instantaneous."That family-they're alive!" he managed. "The Dunne family."In a flash, a vacationing reporter from theWashington Post reached for his cell phone to call his newsroom. He was back on the job.Meanwhile, Captain Stephen Preston just stood before the crowd and smiled. All he could think about was how the note in the bottle ended, the part about the reward.The dollar sign.The number one.And all those amazingly beautiful zeroes after it."Jeff," he said slowly, "this tuna's worth a h.e.l.l of a lot more than we thought."

Part One

The Family (Un)Dunne

Chapter 1

"I'M CRAZY,right? I mean, I have to be absolutely, certifiably mad to take this trip! This sailboat extravaganza with my family! And Jake!"I've had this same thought for weeks, but today is the first time I'm saying it out loud.Screaming it, actually, at the top of my lungs. Thankfully, Mona's Upper West Side office used to be a recording studio for a talk-show host. The walls are soundproof, or so Mona tells me.The way I'm acting, they should also be padded."No, you're not crazy," says Mona, being her usual calm self. "On the other hand, are you biting off more than you can chew? Perhaps?""But don't I always?""Yes," she says, "for as long as I've known you, anyway.Don't say the number."Twenty-seven years, to be exact-ever since Mona and I met during our freshman orientation at Yale and discovered we were both closetGeneral Hospital fans and harbored ridiculous crushes on Blackie, the character played by a very young-and incredibly cute-John Stamos.Wow, did I just date myself, or what?Anyway, for the past two months Mona has been more than my best friend and the sister I never had. She's also been Dr. Mona Elien, my psychiatrist.Yes. I know. On paper, that arrangement might not be a good idea. But who lives on paper?Not me.I live on caffeine, adrenaline, and relentless sixteen-hour shifts at Lexington Hospital, where I'm a heart surgeon. I just didn't have the time or patience for the get-to-know-you phase of therapy. Besides, there's no one's opinion I trust more than Mona's. There's no one I trust more, period."It's not that I'm weighing in against the sailboat trip, Katherine. In fact, I think it's a great idea," she says. "My only concern is how much hope you're pinning on it, the pressure you seem to be putting on yourself and the kids. What if it doesn't work?""That's easy," I say. "I'll just kill them and myself and put us all out of our collective misery.""Well," says Mona, straight-faced as always, "it's good to know you have a Plan B."The two of us crack up. How many other shrinks could I do that with?Mona's right, though. Iam pinning a lot of hope on this sailing trip, maybe too much.Only I can't help it.That's what can happen when your family is falling to pieces before your eyes and you believe that it's all your fault.

Chapter 2

LONG STORY SHORT-boring personal story made palatable-the problems really kicked in four years ago when my husband, Stuart, suddenly died. It was a devastating shock. Even though Stuart had strayed on me, and more than once, I blamed my career and work schedule at least as much as I blamed him.At any rate, Stuart's death was even worse for our three children. I just didn't realize it at first. Maybe I was too self-centered.For some reason I thought our family would all rally around, that we'd pull through by pulling together.I was fooling myself.Stuart was the family's anchor; he was almost always there, while I was more often than not at the hospital, or at least on call. Without him around, the kids became their own little islands. They were angry, confused, and worse, they wanted little to do with me. Not that I could blame them. In all candor, I've never been in danger of winning any Mother of the Year award. I'm living proof-like so many other women, I suppose-of how hard it is to have both a successful career and time for a great relationship with your kids. Not impossible, just very hard.But that's all about to change. At least I hope so. Desperately.Starting this Friday, I'm taking atwo-month leave of absence from Lexington Hospital. Dr. Katherine Dunne is officially checking out.The kids and I are setting sail for the bulk of the summer onThe Family Dunne, the boat that always used to bring us together when Stuart was alive. It was his pride and joy-and that's probably why I could never bring myself to sell it. I couldn't do that to the kids.Of course, Carrie, Mark, and Ernie hate this whole idea, but I don't care. Even if I have to drag them kicking and screaming, they're getting on that boat!"Oh, here's some good news," I tell Mona as we wrap up our session. "The kids have finally stopped referring to this as 'the dysfunctional Dunne family vacation.' ""Thatis good news," says Mona with the tinkly laugh I love."Yeah," I say. "Now they're just calling it 'Mom's guilt trip from h.e.l.l.' "Mona laughs again and I join her this time. It's either that or start crying and maybe do a swan dive out her window.What have I gotten myself into? And how can our family survive?Two very good questions that I can't answer right now.

Chapter 3

AFTER A LIGHT DRIZZLE that persisted all through Friday morning, a noontime fog settled over the Labrador Island Marina in exclusive and very tony Newport, Rhode Island.Fog.How fitting, thought Jake Dunne, stretching his lean six-foot-one frame as he stood on the teakwood deck of his late brother's boat. Maybe that was because he still wasn't clear about this trip-what to expect, how it would play out. Would he live to regret it?All he knew was how his former sister-in-law, Katherine, sounded on the phone when she called him a few weeks back. Desperate. Compelling. The way she talked about wanting-no,needing -to take this trip with the kids, you'd think it was her last hope in the world.So how could he say no to her when she asked if he would be their captain? He couldn't, of course. He always said yes to Katherine.Jake was about to resume his final inspection of the boat, admiring all the new lines and canvas, when he heard a familiar voice call out to him."How ya doin' there, J.D.? Good to see you." Jake turned to see Darcy Hammerman, the launch skipper for the marina. Darcy was standing directly below him on the dock. She was dressed in the same blue polo shirt with the Labrador Island logo that everyone on the staff was required to wear. Only Darcy's shirt was a lot more faded, a subtle sign of her seniority. And why not? She and her brother Robert owned the place."Hey, Darcy, what's happening?" said Jake in his usual laid-back tone."Not too much," Darcy answered, flashing an easy grin. She was in her late thirties, slender, attractive, and always very tan. "Just another day of shuttling rich people to boats that cost more than my house."Jake chuckled, watching as Darcy turned her attention toThe Family Dunne."So how's she looking to you?" Darcy asked. "Is she ready to set sail?""She was a little rusty, maybe, but she's definitely sea worthy now," said Jake, who would know as well as anybody.Growing up in Newport as the youngest in a family of devout sailors, Jake found boating a lot like breathing-it just came naturally. In fact, of all the Dunnes, Jake had become the most accomplished sailor. Twice he won the Cruising Division of the prestigious-and extremely arduous-Newport Bermuda sailing race.Still, Darcy didn't look entirely convinced by his breezy appraisal. As she continued to eye the boat, she actually seemed a little concerned."What is it?" asked Jake. "You see something I didn't? Something come up in your overhaul?""Nothing-nothing at all.""How long have I known you-about ten years? It's obviouslysomething. So tell me."Darcy's eyes narrowed into a squint. "No, it's just a stupid superst.i.tion, that's all."Jake nodded and didn't press her on it. He didn't need to. He knew exactly what Darcy was talking about. Among sailors worth spit, the superst.i.tion was widely known. What's more, Jake believed in it. Sort of, anyway. It had been weighing on his mind as well. Like a two-ton anchor.A boat that loses its captain at sea is forever a ghost ship.Stuart had died while scuba diving offThe Family Dunne. His tank had malfunctioned, cutting off his air. Stuart went down and never came up-that is, until his body was recovered. So to Jake, superst.i.tion or not, his older brother's boat was a haunting reminder of a tragedy he'd just as soon forget. If only he could. Had it been up to him, he would've sold the d.a.m.n thing before the dirt even settled on Stuart's grave.But Katherine absolutely insisted on keeping it, presumably for sentimental reasons. Christ! A wedding band or a watch-those made for good keepsakes. Not a sixty-two-foot luxury Morris yacht!Worse, the boat had done nothing but sit in some warehouse for the past four years. Katherine and the kids hadn't sailed it once. She hadn't even laid eyes on it.Darcy grimaced. "I'm sorry, Jake. Stupid of me. I didn't mean to spook you with my typical bulls.h.i.t. I'll shut my big mouth now. Better late than never.""No worries, Darcy. Everything's going to be fine.""Course it is. You're going to have an outstanding trip," said Darcy, smiling as best she could. "Do you need my help with anything before you head off?""I'm good. Give my best to Robert," said Jake, glancing at the Tag Heuer strapped to his wrist. The Manhattan Dunnes were late.Of course. "The only thing I need now is for my crew to show up."

Chapter 4

FORTY MINUTES LATER the Dunnes finally arrived. The junior contingent, at least. With the fog still hanging low around the marina, Jake heard his niece and two nephews before he actually saw them. Once again he thought,How fitting.The mouths on these kids were something awful. Maybe this trip was just what they needed.The last time Jake had had the ear-numbing pleasure of their company was when Katherine remarried, eleven months ago on Cape Cod, at the ritzy Chatham Bars Inn. At least she had looked happy with Peter Carlyle-radiant, actually-but for that entire weekend it seemed as if the only thing Carrie, Mark, and Ernie Dunne could do was argue with each other.Wait, correction.It didn't seem that way. Itwas that way.And as Jake listened to their bickering voices getting closer, it was clear that nothing had changed with the Dunne crew-hiscrew now."See, I told you it was this way, you idiots. I'm always right. I can see the boat."Jake nodded to himself.That's definitely Mark, slacker par excellence. Holden Caulfield for the twenty-first century."Who are you calling an idiot, you idiot? I'm not the one who got caught smoking weed in his dorm room last month.That was impressive."And that's definitely Carrie, our Yalie-our troubled Yalie, from what I hear."Oh, yeah?" said Mark. "The only reasonyou stopped smoking weed is because the munchies were making youfat! Your a.s.s is dragging, sister.""Up yours!""Right back atcha!"A third voice chimed in then-much higher-pitched; kind of sweet, really. "Sorry to interrupt this stimulating conversation between my chronologically older siblings, but I was wondering something.""What is it, twerp?" asked Carrie."Why hasn't Uncle Jake ever gotten married? You don't think he's gay, do you? Not that it's a bad thing."Jake started to laugh.That's absolutely, positively Ernie! An inappropriate question for each and every situation.The three Dunne children finally appeared through the wisps of fog. They all smiled instantly at the sight of Jake. Whatever contempt they had for one another, they all loved their uncle. He was the "cool" relative. In fact, he was the only reason they had ultimately relented and agreed to the trip.Not that they were about to admit it to Jake, though. That would be soun cool."How are you, Carrie?" asked Jake, giving her a hug. Everything about the poor girl looked thinner to him.Too thin. Well, hopefully they would remedy that soon.Carrie plopped a hand on her bony hip. "I gave up an entire summer by the Seine in Paris for this family bonding nightmare. How do you think I'm doing?" she huffed. "Paris, the family Dunne. Paris, the family Dunne. Which would you pick, Uncle?""Good to see you too, sweetheart," said Jake, unfazed. "And I already picked the family Dunne for my summer."Next he turned and banged fists with Mark. "What about you, good buddy? What did you give up for this trip?""Valerie D'Alexander," Mark answered, running a hand through his disheveled long brown hair, which hadn't seen a barber, or maybe even a comb, in months."Vaaaal-ler-rieeee!"squealed Ernie. "That's his hot and heavy girlfriend from Exeter. Well, actually, she's not heavy. They're having premarital s.e.x!""Sorry I asked," said Jake. "Did I ask?"Ernie shrugged his chubby shoulders. His baby fat continued to be a stubborn holdout on his body. "Actually, Uncle Jake, I think I'm the only Dunne kid who wants to be here," he said. "In fact, I know that's true.""I suppose one's better than none.""Yeah, I read in one of Mom's medical journals that a change of scenery is considered essential for kids who are raised in a predominantly urban environment."Jake chuckled in disbelief. Whatever happened to kids reading comic books? "How old are you again, Ernie?" he asked. "Nineteen, right?""Ten. But in Manhattan years, that makes me about sixteen. Plus I have a twelfth-grade vocabulary.""Duly noted. Now where's your mom?""Back with Mr. Hot-Shot Lawyer and the gear," answered Carrie."Mr. Hot-Shot Lawyer, huh? Do I still detect a touch of hostility toward your new stepfather?" asked Jake. "Never mind. What about the gear? Don't they at least need a hand?""Duh.What do you think the limo driver from the airport is for?" said Mark.Jake blinked a couple of times in disbelief. Did the kid really just say that?Yeah, he did.As the fog around the marina began to lift, something clicked for Jake. He still wasn't totally clear on how this little boating adventure was going to play out, but one thing he was suddenly sure of.Doesn't Katherine see what the problem is? The real problem? These brats are spoiled. Rotten. They're getting love all right, but the wrong kind.It was nothing he couldn't fix, Jake figured. Two months onThe Family Dunne would be ample time, he thought. Rigging, raising, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the sails. Cranking the jib. Scrubbing the deck. Come h.e.l.l or high water, he was going to work these kids' spoiled a.s.ses right back to normal.

Chapter 5

"KAT, ARE YOUSURE you don't want me to come along?" asked Peter. "I will, you know.""Hmmm, let's see," said Katherine, playfully scratching her chin. "You've got a big, important trial just about to start back in Manhattan, your plane is waiting for you at the airport with the engine practically still running, and you don't have a single change of clothes with you. Sure, honey, come aboard!"The two stood in the parking lot of the Labrador Island Marina as the limo driver, a burly Italian man with thick arms and an even thicker accent, labored with the huge pile of luggage. Not that the limo guy minded. He knew a big tipper when he drove one, and this Peter Carlyle fellow fit the bill in every way, beginning with the fact that he owned and piloted his own Cessna Skyhawk.We're talking serious denaro here! Plus Mista Carlyle was polite and not the self-centered bossy type. A pleasure in every way.Katherine reached for Peter's hand and played with his platinum wedding band, which still looked shiny and new. "I appreciate your flying us all up here," she said. "It means a lot to me-to all of us, sweetheart.""Really, it's the least I could do. Oh jeez, I'm going to miss you so much, Kat. I'm already missing you."She kissed him softly on the mouth, then gave him a second kiss. "I've got some nerve, huh? We're not even married for a year and here I go leaving for two months.""It's okay, I understand. I really do. The kids caught a really bad break in life. This is a good thing you're doing. It's great.""That's why I love you so much-youdo understand. This trip is so, so important to me, Peter.""And I'm proud of you for making it happen. That's why I loveyou so much. You're a terrific person, Katherine Dunne." He leaned in, whispering in her ear. "And you happen to be d.a.m.n s.e.xy. Do we have time?" Peter winked at her. "The limo?"Katherine blushed a little, something she rarely, if ever, did.How did I get lucky enough to find him? she had wondered. She had never thought she could be in love again after Stuart's death, and yet here he was, Peter Carlyle, the famous New York trial attorney.Truly, the newspaper idiots had him all wrong, just as they got most things wrong. They called him "Gordon Gekko with a law degree" and the "love child of Genghis Khan and the Wicked Witch of the West." But Katherine knew it was all an act, a role he played to defend his clients.The Peter she had come to know and love-the man outside the courtroom-was a kind and gentle soul and almost always considerate of her needs. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was also handsome and pretty s.e.xy himself!Best of all, though, Peter clearly didn't want anything from Katherine except her love in return. Any jerk who could read the gossip columns of those same newspapers knew that she'd been left a substantial fortune by Stuart-over $100 million-and yet it wasPeter 's idea to sign a prenup. "I have money," he told her. "What I don't have is a whole lot of happiness. At least, I didn't until I met you, Kat."Like two lovesick teenagers, Katherine and Peter kissed pa.s.sionately in the middle of the marina's parking lot, blissfully oblivious of the pa.s.sersby and their "Get a room!" looks, which Katherine equated with jealousy. And you know what, who wouldn't be jealous of her and Peter?He suddenly stepped back as if remembering something. "Now, tell me, do I have anything to worry about with Jake?" he asked."No, he's an expert sailor," said Katherine. "He's first-rate all the way. Been sailing since he could walk.""That's not exactly what I meant, Kat."Katherine broke into a smile, giving Peter a quick poke in the stomach. "Iknow that's not what you meant, wise guy. And to answer your question, he was mybrother-in-law, sweetheart.""Still, I saw the way he looked at you at our wedding," said Peter, gazing at Katherine as if she were a reluctant witness in one of his trials."Don't even try to pretend you're jealous of Jake, or anybody else.""Yeah, I guess not." Peter shrugged. "But I'd feel a little better if he didn't look like he walked out of some L.L. Bean catalog. Guys with permanent tans make me suspicious."Katherine folded her arms. "What about you, stud? All alone in the big city for two whole months?""Alone? Aren't you forgetting about Angelica?""Our somewhat overweight and uncommunicative Guatemalan housekeeper notwithstanding, maybe I'm the one who should be worried."Peter grabbed Katherine in his arms again and pulled her tight against his chest. "I don't think so, Kat. I waited half my life to find you. I think I can wait another two months to get you back. Especially since you're out here performing a mercy mission.""Pretty good answer, Counselor. You are a slick one, aren't you?" said Katherine with a quick peek at her watch. "Now, c'mon, I've got a boat to catch."

Chapter 6

STANDING no more than a couple of hundred feet fromThe Family Dunne, dressed in a teal Brooks Brothers polo shirt and tan Tommy Bahama shorts, another Newport boat person was busy hosing down the deck of a sleek Catalina-Morgan 440.Except this man wasn't actually from Newport.In fact, this wasn't his boat.Gerard Devoux was simply "borrowing" it for a while so he could blend into the Newport scene, as it were. To anyone who might look his way he was just another multimillionaire pampering his baby.But no onewas looking his way. So good was Devoux at not being noticed, it was almost as if he weren't there on the dock.A trick of the mind, he knew.An illusion that he was very good at creating.No wonder his nickname for himself was the Magician.Through dark Maui Jim sungla.s.ses-another prop borrowed just for the occasion-Devoux watched as the Dunne crew prepared to set sail. One by one he checked them off in his head, a mental roll call to make sure all were present and accounted for. That was important, of course. Devoux was in complete control of every aspect of his working plan save for one thing:attendance.But there they were-the pretty M.D. mother, the equally handsome but petulant kids, ranging from eighteen to ten, and the rebellious uncle who looked like George Clooney in docksiders.Oh, and let's not forget the loving new husband, the fancy-pants Manhattan lawyer. What's the matter, Peter Carlyle-don't you like to sail? Afraid to get your hair messed?Devoux smiled to himself. This was usually a part of his work he didn't care for-surveillance duty. Totally necessary, yes, but also boring to him; a waste of his impressive skill set, as far as he was concerned.Only today was a little different. Devoux was actually having a decent time, reveling in the moment and, more important, in what was to come. And he knew exactly why.This was no ordinary job; it was his biggest, boldest, most challenging undertaking yet. It brought all those impressive skills of his to bear, and then some. In short, this had the potential to be a masterpiece of planning and expectations fulfilled.Devoux glanced down, checking the time on his brushed-steel Panerai watch. Submersible to a thousand meters, it fit right in with the rest of his nautical costume. However, it was the one thing he actually owned. Devoux loved watches but only the very best of the best. He bought them like Carrie Bradshaw bought shoes ins.e.x and the City. Ten thousand, twenty thousand, fifty thousand dollars-the cost didn't matter. What mattered was the precision, the perfect orchestration of many different complex movements resulting in unyielding accuracy. There was no greater beauty than that. None that he had discovered, anyway.Two oh one, declared the Panerai. Precisely.Soon Devoux would slip away from the marina, vanishing, not unlike the noontime fog. Until then he would stand his post and keep a watchful eye, waiting forThe Family Dunne to head off over the horizon.Never to be seen again.Because Gerard Devoux, aka the Magician, specialized in one trick and one trick only.He made people disappear.

Chapter 7

I STAND at the tip of the bow, like Kate minus Leo int.i.tanic, and take a deep breath, sucking in all the fresh air that my lungs will allow. Then, with my lips pursed, I let go of it gently, as if I'm blowing out a candle in slow motion.I am getting thoroughly drenched, but that feels pretty d.a.m.n good.In fact, so far-amazingly-this entire trip feels pretty good. Who would've thunk it? Maybe I'm not so crazy after all. Or maybe I'm simply getting too much oxygen. An "ocean high," as the boating crowd calls it.We've been at sea for only a little while, but with the land fading away at our windblown backs, I'm filled for the first time with a very strange feeling about this trip.I think it's called hope, and it's definitely a very positive vibe.Jake's sense of humor has really taken the edge off the kids-well, at least off Mark and Ernie. Carrie continues to look beyond miserable, and I'm worried about her.Jake's so good with them, though. Why can't I be better? I do love them more than anything.Give it time, Katherine. Be patient.I do notice something a little different about him, however. Jake, that is. Usually he's Mr. Laid-Back, and for the most part he's that way now. But there's something else thrown into the mix, although I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it has to do with this being Stuart's boat.Whatever the reason, he does seem more focused. Or is it a different word I want?Responsible, perhaps?Of course, hedoes have the responsibility of being our captain, something he made clear the moment we left the marina. He gave the kids some time to settle in, unpack their gear, and get their sea legs. "Then we'll go over the rules," he told them.Rules?I didn't think Jake Dunne knew the meaning of the word.This is the guy who's never much followed anything except the wind. He's never actually owned a car or a home, never voted in his life, and as far as I know never paid a dime of income tax. He owns only two things in this world: a duffel bag full of clothes and a vintage 1968 Harley-Davidson. He bought the motorcycle the day he decided not to return for his soph.o.m.ore year at Dartmouth. Instead he took a job crewing on some millionaire's sailboat.An "extended semester at sea," he called it.His father called it something else.The biggest f.u.c.king mistake you'll ever make, Jake, mark my words. This is the beginning of the end for you.But Jake didn't care. His parents already had Stuart, the golden boy, the firstborn, the one walking the straight and narrow down at Wharton. As roads went, Jake much preferred, in the words of another Dartmouth dropout, Robert Frost, the "one less traveled."I allow myself a secret and forbidden thought:No wonder I've always been attracted to him."Hey, Katherine?" he calls out.It's possible that he's psychic. Wouldn't surprise me one bit.I walk back to Jake, who's at the wheel of the boat, his absolute favorite place on earth to stand. He told me that once, and only once, since Jake doesn't repeat himself."Can you gather up the kids?" he asks. "I want to go over those rules I mentioned. I know they don't want to hear them, but too bad.""Sure thing." And then I mutter, "Rules.This should be interesting."I duck belowdecks, where I immediately see Carrie and Ernie in the galley. Ernie's snacking on double-center Oreos-no surprise-and Carrie's looking at him as if he's a big fat pig. Also no surprise.While Carrie's still too thin, at least she's not in the bathroom throwing up lunch-purging, as it's called. I've noticed that her teeth aren't stained and her hair is regaining its fullness-good signs. Both the school psychologist and her nutrition counselor at Yale said she's making progress, so I shouldn't nudge her about her eating.I won't go there.But would it kill her to cheer up a bit?Snap out of it, kid! You're stuck on this beautiful boat with all of us, so get used to it! And I'm here for you, Carrie. I am."Uncle Jake wants to have that talk now," I announce. "Where's Mark?"Carrie and Ernie both point toward the sleeping quarters. I head in that direction while the two of them climb up on deck, as if they're about to be drawn and quartered by good old Uncle Jake."Mark?" I call out.He doesn't answer, which is his usual response. So I check each cabin and he's nowhere to be found."Mark?"I call again.And finally he answers. "Busy here. I'm in the head," he says. "One minute."I'm about to tell him to come up and join us when he's done. Then I hear it, that incriminating sound.Ssssssst.And I completely go apes.h.i.t.

Chapter 8

I BANG ON THE DOOR so hard I think I'm going to break the lock. "Open up this instant!" I yell. "Mark, open the doornow! I'm not kidding, buster."I hear the porthole window snapping shut and that telltale sound again.Ssssssst. Now all I can smell is the air freshener. It reeks of potpourri.Or should I saypot-be-gone.Mark finally opens the door and tries to look innocent as a newborn, which is pretty hard to do with glazed-over eyes. I lay into him so hard and fast he doesn't know what hit him. He's just lucky it's not my fist. That's how p.i.s.sed off I am at my oldest and most immature son.And when he tries to deny he was smoking, I yell even louder. I've taken way too much of his c.r.a.p lately."Whoa, whoa, whoa," I hear over my shoulder. "What's going on?" asks Jake, who has Ernie in tow.I fold my arms and take a deep breath, trying mightily to reel in my anger. It's a losing battle, though. "Why don't you ask the little stoner here," I say. "We're barely under way and he gets high!"This finally brings a little half-smile from him. "Gee, I'm sorry, Mom. Should I have waited a whole day?""Don't be a wisea.s.s, Mark. It doesn't become you. You're in enough trouble already," warns Jake."What, like you never smoked pot when you were younger?"There it is, the quintessential teenage gotcha question. As Mark lobs it into Jake's court, he looks like the smuggest sixteen-year-old living on the planet.But Jake doesn't buy any of it."Yeah, I smoked weed, buddy, and you know what it did? It helped turn me into a huge a.s.shole and idiot for a while, kind of like the one you're being right now."Game. Set. Match.Mark has no comeback, no return. He's not used to Jake's being angry at him and he's speechless. The only sound is a stifled giggle from Ernie."Rule number one of the boat," says Jake."No getting stoned." He sticks out his palm, practically in Mark's face. "Now hand it over. All of it."With a defeated sigh Mark reaches into his pocket and surrenders a tin of Altoids. Needless to say, it's no longer housing curiously strong mints."Here," Mark snarls. "Don't smoke it all in one place."Jake cracks the slightest of smiles as he stuffs the tin into his back pocket. Meanwhile, I can't help thinking how lucky I am that he agreed to come with us.Then something dawns on me. "Who's steering the boat?" I ask."I gave the wheel to Carrie," says Jake. "She's fine. It's like driving a car in an empty parking lot."No sooner do the words leave his lips than the boat suddenly swerves hard right, tossing us like a salad!I go down, and my head hits the floor-smack!I nearly black out. My brain flickers on, off, on."Carrie!" yells Jake, scrambling to his feet. "What are you doing up there?"She doesn't answer.The boat rolls violently again, upending Jake for the second time. He falls hard on Mark, knocking the wind out of him."Carrie!"yells Jake again.No answer.The boat finally steadies and we quickly rise to our feet. What the h.e.l.l's going on? Jake leads the mad dash up to the deck.Frantically, we look around. Carrie's not at the wheel.Carrie's not anywhere.

Chapter 9

NEXT JAKE POINTS out to sea and screams at the top of his lungs,"Man overboard!"My heart plummets as I turn and track his finger off the starboard side, where I see Carrie's blond head bob, then slip beneath the water.For a split second of panic I lock eyes with Jake before his instincts take over. "Grab the wheel and come about!" he tells me.Then he grabs a life preserver and dives headlong off the boat.I watch him surface and begin to swim until Ernie reminds me, "The wheel, Mom!"Finallymy instincts kick in, those gained from two summers of sailing Sunfish boats at the YWCA camp in Larchmont, New York, as a teenager, combined with whatever I gleaned from being Stuart's first mate on this boat when he was alive and we sailed together every other weekend. It isn't much practical experience, but it's enough to tack the sixty-two-footFamily Dunne. I yell at Mark and Ernie to watch for the swinging boom as I furiously spin the wheel. I can't see Carrie anywhere. I keep checking on Jake's progress, his powerful arms ripping through the water in pursuit of my daughter.Oh, G.o.d, please don't let her drown!She must be hurt-it has to be that,I'm thinking. She was a superb swimmer at her prep school, Choate, first team, all this and that, trophy after trophy. She could tread water for hours if she had to. Now she can't even stay afloat."Hurry, Jake!" I yell, not that he can hear me out there.Mark and Ernie edge over to the side of the boat. All they can do is watch helplessly, same as me. None of us are particularly strong swimmers, and suddenly I'm incredibly guilty about that, and everything else.Jake reaches the spot where Carrie went under, although it's hard to know for sure with the shifting waves. I see him take a deep breath and disappear, leaving the life preserver behind. Why did he do that?But then I figure it out-it's for me to have a target.I steer for it as the boat does a full one-eighty, cutting back through the wind. There's still no sign of Jake or Carrie, though, and all I can do is think about that feeling of hope I had just a short time ago. It's slipping away, so fast I can't stand it!I strip off my sweater, yanking it up over my head. "I'm going in after them!" I tell the boys."No!" says Mark. "You'll only make it worse!"What's worse than losing Carrie?I know Mark's probably right, but I don't care. I step up on the edge of the boat, about to dive, when Ernie shouts, "Look! Mom, look!"It's Jake!And, in his arms, Carrie!They're both gasping for air as he grabs the life preserver and pulls it in close."All right!" exclaims Ernie, raising his hand for a high five from Mark. But Mark leaves him hanging. He's too busy watching something else.That's when I see it too. I was so relieved I almost didn't.Something's not right. In fact, something is very, very wrong.

Chapter 10

JAKE JUST COULDN'T BELIEVE the pain shooting all through his body. His heart was pounding in his chest like a jackhammer. His arms, his legs, his lungs-everything ached.From the boat, Carrie had looked so close-a good dive and a couple dozen strong strokes to reach her, that's it. But in the water she felt much farther away. A million miles!No matter.He got there somehow. He had her now! This wouldn't be a repeat of his brother-no, Carrie wouldn't be another Dunne claimed by the sea. She was alive.Only now she was maybe too much alive.As Jake struggled to hold her nose and mouth above water, Carrie kicked and screamed wildly in his arms. What was wrong with her?"Carrie, I've got you. Just relax," urged Jake, trying to sound calm against her panic.That's what this is, isn't it?he thought. Carrie was still panicked from almost drowning. She was scared to death-literally. That's why she was fighting him.He tried again, louder. "Carrie, it's me. It's Uncle Jake! Stop fighting me."He was sure she'd snap out of it any second. She'd realize she was safe and calm down.But she didn't. If anything, she was getting worse, twisting and thrashing around like a tornado in his arms. A ninety-eight-pound killer tornado! Where was she getting so much strength?Meanwhile, Jake had none to spare. His muscles were spent, his thighs and calves beginning to seize up and cramp. For the first time in his forty-four years he actually felt his age.Forget the calm voice. Jake yelled at her. "CARRIE! STOP IT NOW!"Her name and a couple of other words were all he could get out of his mouth before it was filled by a swell of salt water burning the back of his throat.He managed to hold on to her with one arm; with the other he clung to the life preserver. Carrie was splashing so wildly now he could barely see her or anything else. Certainly not the boat.Do I scream for help? he wondered, thinking it might be his only choice.The thought had barely crossed his mind when he felt Carrie slip out of his grasp. She immediately sank beneath the surface without so much as a struggle.What the h.e.l.l's going on?Jake sucked in a quick lungful of air and went after her headfirst. d.a.m.n it! The water was too murky to see through. The best he could do was feel around for her. She was going to drown, wasn't she-just like Stuart.Ten seconds . . . twenty seconds . . . thirty seconds . . .He felt nothing!Except his lungs about to explode.Then, a few more feet down, as his head began to ache from the pressure, he felt something, the soft, slippery feel of flesh. Carrie's arm!Jake pulled on it fast and hard, as if he were starting a lawn mower and had only one try.Hang on, girl. Up they went, breaking through the surface without a moment to spare. They both gasped. Air had never felt so precious to him.Jake even found the life preserver again. For a second time he'd saved Carrie. And for the second time it seemed as if-No,he thought.This can't be happening.But as he continued to struggle with her, what else could he think? She was no longer just kicking and screaming, she was violently pushing him away!Carrie knew exactly what she was doing. She had known all along.Jake was certain of it now.His niece didn't want to be saved.Carrie was trying to drown herself.

Chapter 11

MARK THROWS UP HIS HANDS in disgust. He can't believe this, and neither can I. "What the h.e.l.l's Carrie trying to do,drown him?""Shut up!" I say. "Please, Mark. Not now."That's only because I know it's a good question, one that's too painful to answer. It certainly does look that way, though. Worse, Carrie seems to have the upper hand. Jake outweighs her by eighty or ninety pounds, easy, but it doesn't seem to matter. The way she's fighting him, he can barely stay afloat, let alone hold on to her."Carrie, it's going to be all right!" I yell. "Let Uncle Jake help you! Carrie!"That's when the awful truth comes blaring out of her mouth. "Let me be!" she screams back. "I don't want anybody's help! Let me go!"Let me go?My knees suddenly go weak.Oh, dear G.o.d. Carrie didn't fall overboard, she jumped. She tried to kill herself!And she's still trying.Again I'm about to dive in the water to help if I possibly can. I can't stand here and watch this-I have to do something! But again I stop at the last second.The sound of Jake screaming in pain freezes me. There's blood streaked on his forehead. Carrie must have scratched him with her fingernails.As the blood trickles down his face, Jake's expression immediately changes.That does it! No more Mr. Nice Uncle! He's had enough of this.With a thunderous grunt he swings his arm around Carrie's neck, taking her in a tight chokehold I've seen cops use in the emergency room at the hospital.I never thought I'd be so happy to see someone do that to one of my children.Carrie's still kicking, but with her arms restrained against her chest, Jake can now drag her over to the side of the swimming platform at the stern. Mark, Ernie, and I reach out and grab her by her wrists and ankles. We pull her onto the platform, landing her like a fish."Stop it!" she wails. "Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!"My heart is breaking into a million little pieces.We walk her up to the deck, where she flops around, throwing a tantrum. Finally she curls up in the fetal position, crying pitifully. It's contagious, and I start crying too. I'm at a loss. I don't know what to say to her. What can I do for Carrie?"A little help here, guys," comes Jake's out-of-breath voice from behind us. We turn to see him treading water- waiting-next to the platform. He's a lot harder to pull up than Carrie, but we finally get him onboard too."Thank you, Jake," I tell him."Thank you."For a few very strange moments all we can do is exchange confused looks, saying nothing. Eventually Jake speaks up. "Boat rule number two," he says between heavy breaths. "No trying to kill yourself."The line doesn't lighten anyone's mood, but as I catch Jake's eye I realize that that wasn't his intention. He's serious, and so is what just happened.First things first, though.Carrie's freezing, shivering from head to toe."Mark, go grab some towels," I say.He nods, taking off belowdecks. Within seconds, however, he's standing at the top step to the main cabin, a panicked look etched across his face. He doesn't have the towels."We're in deep s.h.i.t," he says. "I'm not kidding either."

Chapter 12

WHAT NOW?That's the exhausted look I give Jake, and he gives it right back to me. I have no idea what Mark has discovered, but I know from his tone, the quiver in his voice, that it's definitely something.And it's definitely very bad."Ernie, stay right here with your sister," I say, falling in line behind the still dripping Jake, who looks as if he's answering the bell for about the fiftieth round in a prizefight. The two of us head belowdecks so Mark can fill us in on the latest crisis.But he doesn't have to say a word to either of us. It's obvious, it's right there at our feet. Water! Everywhere I look. It's covering the entire cabin, four to five inches deep and rising quickly."Where's it coming from?""The only place it can," answers Jake. "Down below. Has to be, Kat. I'm going."He pushes past Mark, trudging over to the galley and the small, square hatch in the floor that leads to the engine room. The Atlantic Ocean is literally forcing its way up through the hinges as Jake reaches down and pops the handle. He's about to open the hatch, and G.o.d only knows what he'll find when he does. My heart is in my throat again."Are you sure you want to do that?" asks Mark."It's either that or we sink, buddy," says Jake matter-of-factly. "I choose taking a look."Mark's Adam's apple literally disappears beneath the collar of his Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt. "What can I do?" he asks quickly."I'll tell you in a minute."It's more like a split second. Pulling up the hatch door, he takes one look at the situation beneath our feet and starts giving emergency orders.

Chapter 13

"KATHERINE, I need a mask and a snorkel from the Hail Mary box!""Thewhat? " I ask."It's a red box under the boom with anything and everything for emergency situations," he explains quickly. "Like now."Oh, I get it-unfortunately. The Hail Mary box.Jake turns to Mark, pointing at him. "And Mark, you go grab anything and everything that looks like a bucket."Mark nods hesitantly but doesn't move. I haven't moved either. What are we waiting for?"GO!" shouts Jake. "GO!"That does the trick pretty well. Mark and I bolt from the main cabin as if we're on fire."What's going on down there?" asks Ernie.Mark beats me to the punch. "The boat's gonna f.u.c.kin' sink!" he blurts out.While it's not exactly the way I would've phrased it, I'm not about to quibble. Not right now. "Ernie, help your brother find some buckets," I say. "We're not going to sink."Please, G.o.d, don't let us go down."What about Carrie?" Ernie asks.We all look at her at once. She's curled up on the deck, her head buried in her hands.Again Mark beats me to the punch. "Don't worry-weall may be jumping ship soon!"Ernie stares at me, his eyes wide as Frisbees with stress and fear. The little boy who's always acted older than his age is suddenly like any other ten-year-old. He can barely get the next couple of words out. "Is . . . that . . . really true, Mom?""It's going to be okay," I tell him.I hope. "Just help your brother, okay? No, no. You keep an eye on Carrie."I'm about to turn around to dash for the snorkel gear when I catch a glimpse of the only good thing to come out of this latest drama.Carrie.Slowly she's climbing to her feet, wiping away her tears. "I'll help," she says softly.Maybe she doesn't want to die today after all. So this flood down below is a good thing?I take one step to hug her-to be the mother to her that I so desperately want to be-when I hear Jake's voice from below. What he yells puts all hugs on hold."Let's hurry, folks! In ten minutes or less,The Family Dunne is going down!"

Chapter 14

I FEEL LIKE I'm back in the hospital emergency room, or a badly equipped operating theater. I raid the Hail Mary box, rifling past a first-aid kit, an inflatable raft, and G.o.d knows what else until I come upon the desperately needed snorkel and mask. Racing back belowdecks, I toss them over to Jake.He's already a.s.sembled the hand pump and is feeding a hose down the hatch. The electric pump in the engine room, he tells me, will be too flooded to work.I look down at my bare legs. The water level's really climbing. The four inches in the cabin are now at least six. It's cold, too. My ankles feel as if they're frozen in blocks of ice."You think the boat hit something?" I ask."I certainly didn't feel anything if we did," answers Jake, quickly slipping the mask over his head.It dawns on me. "Maybe when you were in the water with Carrie. Maybe we were all so caught up in watching you that we didn't feel it.""I doubt it," says Jake, straddling the hatch. "If something ripped this hull, you'd feel it, all right. We didn't hit anything.""Then what do you think it is?""I'm about to find out," he says. "Just in case, though, do you remember how to work the radio, the emergency channel?""I remember," I answer. "In case ofwhat, though?""Nothing. I'm just making sure," he says with an unconvincing smile. "You never know. Here goes nothing."Jake shoves the mouthpiece of the snorkel between his teeth and eases into the flooded engine room. As he disappears like some kind of Navy SEAL, I stand almost comatose for a moment before realizing I've got work to do. I grab the hand pump and get busy pumping, even though I sense it's a losing battle.The only way we stay afloat is if Jake finds the leak in an awful hurry.And can fix it.Otherwise the Dunnes will officially be listed in theGuinness Book of Records : "The World's Shortest Family Vacation."

Chapter 15

"WHERE'S UNCLE JAKE?" asks Carrie, the first of the bucket brigade to descend the stairs into the main cabin. Mark and Ernie follow right behind her. I haven't seen this kind of togetherness among them in a long while."He's down there, hopefully saving us," I say, pointing at the hatch. "In the meantime, you need to start bailing while I pump."I get the kids to form a line heading up to the deck. It's the best way, I explain. Carrie will scoop the water, hand a bucket off to Ernie, who'll hand it off to Mark, who'll dump it over the side.Simple as that. A definite NB, as I like to say in the operating room.No-brainer.Ha!We've barely started before the complaining begins. So much for family harmony."Ernie, hold the bucket steady when you pa.s.s it! Can you concentrate on one single thought? You keep spilling the water!" gripes Carrie."Yeah, well, Carrie, you've got to move faster!" says Mark. "Get with the game.""Look who's talking, Stoner Boy!" she counters."At least I don't have a death wish!""Hey, why don't you shut up, Mark?" says Ernie."Make me, you little s.h.i.t!"The next thing I know, Ernie flings a full bucket of freezing water right into Mark's face. "Whoops, there I go spilling the water again," cracks Ernie.He starts to laugh at his own joke whenwham!Mark leaps from the steps of the cabin, his body slamming Ernie and his arms grabbing him in a headlock. As Ernie tries to break free, the two spin around and around, officially turning my no-brainer a.s.sembly line into a free-for-all wrestling match."Stop it!"I yell, moving in to break them up. "Stop it right now!" But all I do is get knocked down for my efforts. The boys are too rough for me-they're really fighting.Where's Jake now?Wait a second!Where's Jake,period?

Chapter 16

I TURN BACK TO THE HATCH, staring at nothing but rising cold water. I've lost track of the time, but he's been down there for at least a few minutes. How long can he hold his breath with just a snorkel? I don't really know the answer to that.Notthis long, I'm thinking.I grab a mop from the storage closet by the refrigerator and start jabbing the end of the handle through the water, banging hard on the floor of the galley. The noise immediately gets Mark and Ernie's attention and they both stop to see what I'm doing.What about Jake? Did I gethis attention?"He's been down there a long time, hasn't he?" says Carrie. At least her head is clear now.I nod as we all stare at the open hatch. There's no sign of Jake coming up for air. Meanwhile, for the first time I feel the weight of the gathering water's drag on the boat. It's as if the ocean is slowly but surely sucking us down.From the corner of my eye I glimpse the radio and remember Jake's words about using the emergency channel.You never know, he said.And I don't want to.C'mon, Jake, where are you? Come up for some air. Please.Suddenly we see a rush of water surging up from the hatch. A hand appears and then a head.Jake hoists himself up to the galley and stands before us in his mask and snorkel. And nothing else."What happened? Where are your clothes?" I ask."Plugging the through-hull fitting," he answers.I shake my head. The what?"It's the hose that takes on water from the outside to cool the engine," he explains. "Don't ask me how it ruptured, but it did, and it took everything I had on to plug the leak. As soon as we bail ourselves out I'll rig a more permanent fix."It's good news. No, it'sgreat news. Still, all I can say is one thing. "Uh, Jake . . .""Yeah?""You're naked."He looks down. "Oh, yeah, you're right," he says with a sheepish grin. "Then again, it's nothing a doctor hasn't seen before, right?""I was thinking about the kids.""Nothing I haven't seen before either," says Carrie with her first half-smile of the trip."Oh, really?" I say back with a half-smile of my own. "Then there's no reason you should bestaring at it so much!"Carries blushes a healthy red, Ernie and Mark start cracking up, and Jake grabs the bucket out of my hands and covers himself."On that note, I think I'll go put some clothes on," he announces.