Bad Blood and Betrayal

Isabella and Ethan climbed on board his cabin cruiser that she discovered was named The Boozer Cruiser. Embarrassed by the bold black print of shame, Bella pulled her wide hat brim down to cover her face. She’d hate to be seen by the other women at the yacht club. The Tampa Bay area had many well-connected families, and to be seen as a party girl would be a crime.

She’d agreed to join him only because her sister had set them up. “He’s a great guy,” Hannah said. “He’s perfect for you,” she boasted. The two sisters had recently gone through some rough times after their parents passed. The terms of the well-funded family trust were a bone of contention, but they hammered out and worked to re-establish their relationship. Although dented and fragile, they were still sisters who wanted to smooth over the bad blood.

Ethan prepared to start the boat, making all the safety checks. The 30-foot pale blue cruiser had a dining area (well stocked with alcohol) and a small but furnished fore cabin. There was seating near the stern, and the white canopy kept the seating in the back out of the sun. Seagulls cried overhead, looking for fishing boats cutting up their morning’s catch. Isabella sat on the cushions near the back as Ethan prepared to launch. She felt a little uneasy as the boat bobbed in the water.

“PFD, ring buoy, fire extinguisher, flares, GPS, working VHF, full tanks. I think we’re ready to go.” Ethan disconnected the line that moored the boat to the dock cleats. “Isabella, I’m so glad you joined me today. This is a perfect day for boating. The weather looks good, and the wine will be flowing.” He winked at her and half smiled. “So nice of your sister to introduce us.” The boat came to life as the engine turned over.

“Call me Bella,” she offered. “This is nice.” She was not a fan of the open water, but Ethan convinced her it wouldn’t be far, and besides, Hannah insisted he was such a nice guy. Looking over the port side of the boat, she watched the water swirling in small eddies as Ethan backed into the modest harbor before going forward, passing the other boats sitting in their berths. The boat pitched forward a little and Bella leaned back into the cushion to the motion of the boat. She removed her hat and placed it beside her, tucking the string of the hat under the cushion.

Ethan steered the boat out of the channel, red markers to the left, and green markers to the right. After they passed the last marker, Ethan sped the cruiser on plane toward the open water of the Gulf, keeping clear of other boaters and divers. The hum of the engine made it hard for Bella to hear anything except the whishing of the water in the wake of the boat. She moved toward the bow and sat in the other seat beside Ethan, safe behind the windshield. As they headed out of the bay, they passed under the Sunshine Skyway Bridge and by the fishing pier. The boat bumped rhythmically over the whitecaps and as Bella looked back, she could see the bright pink Don Cesar hotel and the shoreline on the horizon getting smaller as they zipped out into the Gulf.

The glint of the sun off the water and the salt air on her face hypnotized her. After an hour or so, Ethan cut back on the throttle until the boat settled back down into the water. He turned the engine off and dropped anchor near a fishing spot he knew well. He disappeared into the cabin and returned with a large shopping bag from a local liquor store. A bottle of wine and a bigger bottle of Johnnie Walker Black would fulfill the promise of a boozy cruise. He poured himself a highball glass of whiskey, and then poured a glass of sangria, offering it to Bella. “Here’s to a lovely time.” She took the glass and sipped the deep red wine.

She paused. “How do you and Hannah know each other? I was surprised when she called and set up this blind date.” They retreated to the bench seat in the back.

Ethan replied, “We both work at Diablo Labs. I worked on distribution when she was in marketing.” He threw back his drink. “For about six months now. Making medical materials is popular in a retirement area like St. Pete.” He scanned the water around him looking for other boats. “She said it would be worth my time.”

As she finished her cabernet, Bella finally relaxed. The breeze was light, and the wine was good. The late morning stretched into early afternoon as they chatted about local eateries, festivals, and golf courses. Ethan was on his third glass when he said, “How are you and Hannah doing?”

This caught her off guard. She didn’t feel like discussing the personal details of her family life fraught with tension on a first date. “We’re doing well. Had a few rough patches, but we’ve come a long way.” She poured another glass of wine and got up to look at the water. “It’s so peaceful out here. Not another boat in sight.”

Ethan took his shot. “Why don’t we go into the cabin where the air is cooler?” The combination of balmy weather and casual drinking was perfect for seduction. “I have more comfortable seating down there, and fresh fruit and cheese in the cooler.” He offered his hand, and Bella took it.

They descended into the cabin below decorated sparsely but affording the creature comforts of land. A small refrigerated cooler held drinks and food, and the ample bed dominated the room; covered in a simple plaid comforter, the bed took up much of the space. Even the head had the friendly décor of a beachfront home. Bella sank down into an easy chair off to the side and placed her drink on the counter. “This is a lovely cabin. I didn’t think the room would be this big.” Noticing specific items on his nightstand, she realized now that this was not just a place to cool off and chat. He had distinct and harmful intentions.

As Bella quickly got up, Ethan blocked the doorway and leered, “What’s the hurry? It’s so nice down here.” He started to unbutton his shirt. “And it’s about to get nicer.”

Bella exclaimed, “I think you have the wrong idea. I’m not-I don’t-this isn’t happening. There’s some misunderstanding here.” She tried to push past him, but his resistance became more steadfast.

“Oh, but it’s you who misunderstood. There’s a lot of money on this trip, and I’m going to get my money’s worth.” He started to unbuckle his trousers, but Bella dodged his arms and scurried up the stairs. “Come back here! I’m not done with you!” he yelled.

On deck, Bella desperately searched for something to help her. Understanding there’d be no cell signal out this far, Bella pulled her phone from her capris and pressed the record video function. She tossed it onto the seat cushion, out of immediate sight. She heard Ethan stumbling up the stairs, angrily muttering and obviously inebriated. She tried to run but there was nowhere left to go on the boat. Facing him, she screamed, “Get away from me!”

Ethan grabbed her arm, and they wrestled for control. She fought back and scratched like a tiger as Ethan used his weight against her, his repulsive whiskey breath near her face. He was stronger, and more familiar with the deck. He was also reaching for something from the console compartment. He turned and pointed a gun at her. “It’s time for you to calm down,” he said breathlessly. “This gun is ready to go. Are you?”

She spotted a rigging knife in a cubby along the starboard side. Could she get to it in time? Deeply afraid, she lowered her voice and said, “What are you doing? Maybe we can talk about this.” Getting closer to the knife, she continued, “This isn’t worth it. I’ll be missed. Hannah knows I’m out here.”

His crooked smile made her heart sink. “You’re such a bitch. Your sister was right to hire me.” He racked the slide. “Nobody will know where you went. Hannah already posted your ‘disappearance’ online. You’re as good as dead.” He had her trapped against the rail.

Bella reached for the handle of the steel knife and held it tight behind her. She brought a knife to a gunfight, she thought in her head. Her pulse quickened, and she closed her eyes. She thought about all the things Hannah could have done, and this was the most treacherous. The ninth level of hell where the traitors are. She closed her eyes and waited for the shot.

A rogue wave hit the side of the boat. Ethan briefly lost his balance and tripped over her hat dislodged from the seat cushion and the bottle of wine that went rolling on the deck. The gun went off and shattered the windshield as he fell overboard, hitting his head on the metal cleat before splashing into the water. The gun skittered along the deck. Bella was safe for the time being; she put the knife back down.

She looked over the starboard side of the boat and saw Ethan floating face down, deep red blood oozing into the salt water. He wasn’t moving, and she started to panic. She called out, “Ethan? Ethan!” but no response came from the water. “Ethan!” As she was shouting, she noticed movement in the water. Sharks were beginning to circle, attracted by the frothy blood.

Bella scurried to the console area and tried to find the radio. She picked up what looked like a hand-held CB radio mic; she hoped it was on the right channel and clicked on the side of it. “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!” she shouted. “Help!”

The radio crackled and a voice came over the radio. “Coast Guard Sector St Pete. What is your emergency?”

“The captain fell overboard. Small boat. I can’t see him! What do I do?” she quavered.

“Can you throw a PFD or ring toward him?”

“I don’t think…I don’t…there’s a lot of blood. And sharks. He’s not moving.”

“What is the name of the vessel?” the voice asked.

“Boozer Cruiser.”

“What are your GPS coordinates?”

Unfamiliar with the layout of the console, she frantically searched the dashboard for something that would give her the answer. So many screens and gauges to interpret. She radioed back, “What numbers am I looking for?”

The calming voice returned, “Latitude and longitude. If you have a GPS, it’s most likely in the center of the screen near the top.”

“Um. Latitude 27° 43.287' N, longitude 082° 58.513' W?”

“OK. How many on board?”

“It was just the two of us until he fell overboard,” Bella affirmed. “I’m ok. But I don’t know how to work a boat. And I can’t help him. There are sharks.”

“You’re doing fine, ma’am. We’ll be there in eleven minutes. Stay calm, stay near the radio, stay in a safe area. Help is on its way. Are you anchored?”

“Yes,” she replied. She sat down in the captain’s seat, trembling as the adrenaline enveloped her body. Her cold sweat and shaky hands made it difficult to focus. She tried to calm her shallow breathing and pressure in her temples. The phone! she thought. She ran to the back of the deck and retrieved her cellphone from the seat. She pressed the red button; it had recorded the audio and partial video of everything that transpired. The fight, the threats, the revelation that her sister had hired a hit on her, her attempts to help Ethan in the water. Returning to the helm, she put the phone in a safe place on the dashboard and sat back down in the chair behind the wheel.

The Gulf was motionless, and the only sound was of the waves gently splashing against the sides of the boat. She started to cry, her breath catching and almost choking her. Her sister’s betrayal was worse than the shirtless body bobbing in the sanguine water. Looking ahead in the distance, she spotted a large white and red boat speeding toward her. With a sense of renewed hope, she sat up, wiped the tears from her face, and took a deep breath. Help was indeed on its way.