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Freezing-cold droplets stung the exposed skin of Olivia’s face, and she fumbled the hood of her jacket tight around her cheeks with her free hand – but it wasn’t enough. Each blast was a shock that stole her breath from her. Each wave made her tighten her grip on the inner safety rope, not wanting to think for a moment of what might happen if she should get swept overboard into the churning icy water.
The lights of the yacht loomed red through the stormy haze, and Pierre navigated them with ease. A figure stood on the stern of the ship, waiting for them. He caught the rope Pierre threw to him, securing the boat. It was hardly an easy transfer. The waves tossed the Zodiac around, bashing it against the yacht’s loading dock and then pulling it away again. She remembered Melissa’s warning, that she risked being crushed, or falling in the water. The man reached out an arm to Olivia. ‘Let’s go!’
She paused at the very edge of the Zodiac, still clinging on to the rope. The man on the yacht shook his hand at her again. She took it, sailor’s grip. He gripped her wrist; she gripped his. ‘Ready?’
The swell rose up and the man pulled, yanking her on to deck. Her foot slid on the slick wooden floor but she just about managed to remain upright. ‘Get inside! Now!’ he shouted.
She scrambled for the door. Once she was inside, she paused at the window, watching as Janine jumped on board, then Pierre wrangled Cutler’s body on to the yacht. He was looking extra pale except for the dark matting blood on the back of his head.
‘Let’s get him below,’ said Pierre. He switched then to rapid French to the man on deck. Soon another crew member joined them, and the two of them balanced Cutler’s enormous broken body, his arms draped over their shoulders, and disappeared down the stairs.
He was going to be treated by a doctor. They had done all they could to get him to safety. She sighed with relief, almost swooning with exhaustion.
‘Well, well, our doctor is going to be busy tonight.’ Pierre entered the small wet room, smoothing his hands over his neat silvery-grey hair. He stepped up to her, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you, and looking well. We have been worried.’
She tensed. ‘Where’s Aaron?’
Pierre didn’t answer her. ‘Please, come inside. Make yourself comfortable. I have a small weather window to return to the shore to fetch your other stranded passengers. But first, this is important. Is there anyone in the group you are afraid of? Someone I should keep from you?’ His eyes searched her face.
‘Sergei,’ she said immediately.
Pierre shook his head. ‘He works for me. He’s been trying to figure out who is targeting you, not the other way around.’
‘What?’ Olivia could hardly think straight. She was cold, wet, her system crashing from the adrenaline spike. ‘Then … no. I don’t know.’ She thought about Patty, thewild look in her eyes – but she was a threat to Cutler, not Olivia. She might have said Maxwell, wanting to collect on Aaron’s debt. But that was before … what about one of the others? What about the double take Liam had done when he’d seen Delilah in the long, dark wig, only to find himself dead a few hours later?
Pierre read the indecision, the uncertainty in her expression and shook his head. ‘I will return soon. We have much to talk about. Don’t leave the lounge.’
After he’d left, Janine lowered her hood and craned her neck to look around the cabin. ‘Wow, this is some yacht.’
Olivia hadn’t even taken it in. But Janine was right; as they moved from the practical wet room into the main body of the yacht itself, they found themselves in a breathtaking lounge – a huge space with polished walnut walls and pristine soft white-leather sofas, a large William Morris-patterned oriental carpet on the floor. A huge dining table, with room for ten people, ran along the back wall, fluffy, monogrammed towels neatly folded on its top. All the accents were marble and polished gold, but the opulence turned her stomach. The finishes reminded her of the originalClarissa, so much so that she practically expected her dad to walk in from the cockpit and give her a hug. Now any doubt that Pierre – a man who’d been her client most of her working life – had owned that boat too was gone. She was on its next reincarnation. If there wasn’t a storm raging outside, she would beg to leave.
Janine passed her a towel, and she wiped the sea spray from her face.
‘I can’t believe you know this guy,’ said Janine.
‘Sort of. I mean … he’s a client of the actuarial firm I worked for. And in a way, he introduced me to Aaron – he was the one who asked me to look into art investing for him. But I never expected to see him here.’
‘I think he cares about you. He seemed to have been looking for you.’
Olivia frowned. ‘I don’t understand it.’
‘I guess we’ll find out when he gets back. I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I’m going to see if I can get us some food somewhere on this super yacht,’ said Janine. She ventured towards the back of the lounge, then disappeared through a sliding door.
Olivia slumped down on to the sofa, the towel in her lap. She felt overwhelmed with adrenaline and emotion. She still couldn’t get her head around what she’d seen Patty do. The hurt and anger in her new friend’s eyes. She thought of the rest of the group, huddled somewhere on Brown Base, and felt guilty that she was now somewhere safe and warm while they were out there in the storm. And what about Sergei? Did she trust what Pierre had said?
Her body didn’t. A man walked past the window, and the silhouette made her immediately stiffen. He was limping, favouring his left side. He stopped outside the door to the lounge.
‘Psst, Olivia!’
She turned around to see Janine gesturing at her to come, her eyes wild with panic as she pointed at Sergei outside the lounge door. ‘That’s the man who attacked me! We’ve got to get away. We’re not safe.’
The handle to the lounge jiggled, and that was enough for Olivia. She didn’t want to be alone with Sergei, nomatter what Pierre said. She followed Janine as she ran down a set of stairs. ‘I just found one of the cabins. We can hide in there.’ Janine stopped in front of one of the doors, pushing it open with her hip. When they were both inside, she locked the door behind them, then grabbed a chair, propping it up against the handle.
‘There. He won’t be able to get through that easily,’ she said.
Olivia paced across the plush carpet in the centre of the room. ‘Pierre said Sergei is working for him. Maybe he’s not the threat we think he is. But regardless, we won’t leave here until Pierre returns with the rest of theVigilgroup,’ she said.
‘Oh, Olivia,’ said Janine softly, ‘you won’t be leaving here at all.’