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 alive with more than its usual activity. Several cars with the black and gold markings of the Montebellan police were parked next to a waiting ambulance. A small crowd milled around the vehicles. As the helicopter approached, a dark-haired woman in civilian clothes pulled away from the crowd and hurried toward it.
The moment the helicopter settled onto the tarmac, Kate gathered Sam’s shoes and pushed open the door. Ducking under the rotor downdraft, she went to meet the woman. Kate guessed her identity as soon as she saw the anxious expression on her face. “Mrs. Genero?” she called.
“Yes, yes. Where is he?” She made as if to go past Kate. “Is he here?”
Kate put her fingers on Mrs. Genero’s arm to stop her. “Your son is being brought back on a search and rescue craft. It should arrive in a few minutes.”
The woman spun to face Kate. “How is he? Is he all right? They told me he was found alive, but—” Her chin trembled. She waved her hand, unable to speak.
Kate hooked her arm and drew her away from the noise of the helicopter. “He was unconscious when we found him. The paramedics are giving him the best care available, Mrs. Genero. Young people are very resilient, so—”
“Oh, God,” she said. “This is my fault.”
“Ma’am, it appeared to have been an accident. The boat capsized.”
“No, it’s my fault,” the distraught woman repeated. “I shouldn’t have let him have that boat. I should have known better.”
The boy’s mother was blaming herself for what happened, Kate realized. Guilt seemed to go along with motherhood, didn’t it? Whatever happened to a child, even an unborn child, a mother would forever be haunted by feelings that she should have known better or tried harder, or that if she only had another chance things would have turned out differently….
Kate forced herself to focus. She was doing that a lot lately. “Mrs. Genero, do you remember the Navy officer who spoke with you on the phone earlier?”
“Who?”
“Lieutenant Coburn. He and I are coordinating the naval search for Ursula Chambers. He was in the helicopter with me when we found your son.”
Mrs. Genero looked around. “Yes?”
“I thought you might like to know that Lieutenant Cob-urn is a Navy SEAL. He jumped into the water from the helicopter in order to see to your son’s welfare until the paramedics could reach him.”
