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The revelations kept piling up, each more shocking than the last with Downing's unsettling update: the interference from Carter Brown, Alex's peculiar request, the disturbing connection of Clint to the murder date, and a potential mole tied to the Golden Key Project and our perennial competitor, Valley Tech. It felt like we were caught in a wild plot teeming with deceit, treachery, and sinister schemes.
Chase's voice sliced through the heavy silence, enveloping us. "my new yacht has just been delivered to the Coronado Marina. Let's convene there. She has plenty of space for all of us. Perhaps we can persuade Martha and Elana, Amy's mother, to watch over the kids while we meet."
His suggestion was met with contemplation before the room erupted with a unanimous, resounding "Yes!"
Chapter Seventeen
Courtney
As we boarded Chase's newly built yacht, the Tit for Tat II, there was a palpable sense of excitement in the air. The impressive vessel stood tall against the ocean's horizon, showcasing modern engineering in its pristine white, sleek exterior and metallic accents. With a length of almost 200 feet, the yacht had multiple decks that provided stunning views, and tinted glass balustrades ensured privacy without obstructing the scenery.
With each step I took onto the deck, assisted by Brad, I found myself lost in the significance of the yacht's name. It was a response—a sly defiance against past misfortunes. The original craft had met its untimely end in Catalina, a casualty of an ill-fated assassination attempt on Chase and Meagan's lives. Yet, here we were, on its successor, ready to set sail.
The name stood as a testament to our resilience and unyielding spirit. It was our silent proclamation: we wouldn't be defeated. And given Chase's personality, he likely enjoyed the mischievous snickers that naturally accompany owning a yacht with the name Tit for Tat.
Brad and I found a private cabin that was quiet and peaceful, unlike the noisy and busy deck. The cabin was luxurious and provided a relaxing sanctuary from the rest of the ship's crew.
"Stunning," I gasped in awe, but then my breath caught as Brad approached, placing his hands softly on my shoulders.
Turning to face him, he enclosed me in a warm embrace. "I've missed you; you know!"
"Come here," he whispered, then we kissed deeply—our tongues moving in a sensual dance.
We two longed to be one and were lost in our thoughts and unfulfilled longing. Our desire was rekindled, unstoppable by the ever-present drama that swirled around us day after day.
Brad picked me up and moved us to the soft leather couch. Laying me in front of him, he knelt beside me and ran his fingers over my cheeks and lips. His eyes told me, 'This is it. This is where we belong.'
Just as I was about to undo the buttons of his shirt, there was a knock at the door. "No time for hanky-panky. Everyone is meeting up on the deck."
Brad yelled teasingly, "Chase, please leave!" Then, shaking his head, he extended his hand and assisted me in getting up from the couch.
"To be continued," I giggled, smoothing my blouse.
Brad and I emerged from our cabin to find Chase addressing everyone on deck with his signature charm and confidence. His voice resonated over the thrumming engines and ambient noise.
"Welcome to the inaugural voyage of the Tit for Tat II," Chase's grin was infectious, lighting up his features. "Make yourselves comfortable. Grab an ice-cold brew, or a cocktail. The bar is officially open!"
Guy toasted Chase, his beer held high, "Here, here!" he said. Ryder joined the gesture, his silent nod of gratitude accompanied by a wide smile.
We allowed ourselves to unwind. Downing's discerning eyes darted around our surroundings while Giuseppe closely watched the group. Their quiet dedication to our safety was a comfort, a testament to their commitment.
The yacht carved a path through the crystal blue waves, the mainland becoming a distant memory as Chase revealed our destination. "We're setting course for the north side of the Channel Islands. There's a dead spot in cell and internet service there—unless, of course, you are the FBI." Downing mused, his announcement added an element of intrigue to our journey.
As we navigated away from the shore, Downing broke the jovial atmosphere to brief us on the current state of the case—the reason for our getaway in the first place. His gaze focused, and he began with a serious tone. "Before we get too far into our voyage, we need to discuss our response to Alex’s request for a private meeting with Meagan."
Chase stiffened, his arm instinctively snaking around Meagan's waist. "That's not going to happen!"
Downing, ever the pragmatic, attempted to assuage Chase's fears. "Meagan will be safe, Chase. She'd be behind a solid, secure screen. There is no way Alex, especially in his condition, is going to hurt her."
Chase's face remained stern, but before he could reply, Meagan spoke up. Her voice was soft but firm, commanding everyone's attention. "I want to hear what Alex…what he wants me to know." She laid her hand on Chase's chest, her eyes pleading. "Alex and I, we worked at the car dealership together. You know we even went out a couple of times." A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she confessed this to the group. "It was all before... before I was kidnapped."
Silence fell as her words hung in the air. Ariel, previously lounging in a deck chair, paused in her application of sunscreen to consider Meagan's words. "You know, I'm thinking…. maybe talking to Alex would help Meagan with her recovery." She touched Meagan's arm and turned her attention toward her friend. "You've been through so much since the kidnapping... since losing months to rehab, trying to piece together what happened. I think your visit might bring some healing… for you."
The air grew dense with contemplation. Finally, I broke the silence that stretched out before us. "Really, what harm could Alex do from behind a secure screen?" My voice, stronger than I felt, echoed our collective concerns and possibilities.
After my words resonated in the growing silence, Chase let out a sigh that sounded like a mixture of surrender and frustration. Then, he turned back to the group, his face a picture of resigned acceptance. "Alright," he said, his voice steady but laced with reluctance. "Alright, if Meagan thinks this might help... I'll support it."
Meagan's face lit up in a mixture of surprise and relief. Before she could respond, however, Chase raised a hand to silence her. "But," he continued, holding her gaze, "only if I accompany her to the jail. I'll be right there, waiting nearby."
