Chapter 5 - THE FINAL ACCOUNTING
I didn't try to grab the gun.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out the nine-inch stainless steel surgical scissors, and slammed them with all the weight of my body straight into Daniel’s right shoulder.
The sharp metal points drove deep through his heavy waterproof jacket, piercing muscle and tendon.
Daniel let out a horrific, guttural shriek of pain.
The pistol fired with a deafening BANG, the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off the wooden dock posts and splashing into the dark water below. The gun slipped from his numb fingers, clattering down between the gangway gaps and sinking into the sea.
"YOU CRAZY BITCH!" Daniel screamed, staggering backward on the slippery aluminum ramp, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
He lunged at me with his left fist, cracking me hard across the jaw.
The blow sent me sprawling onto the cold, wet wood of the dock. My vision swam with bright red spots, the taste of blood copper-hot in my mouth.
Daniel grabbed me by my hair, dragging me toward the edge of the pier. His face was contorted into a monstrous snarl, blood soaking through the front of his jacket. "I'm going to drown you!" he spat, his breath hot against my neck. "I'm going to hold you under until the bubbles stop!"
I didn't fight his grip on my hair.
Instead, as he pulled me to the edge, I reached down with both hands and grabbed the heavy iron mooring cleat bolted to the dock. I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal, anchored my feet against his shins, and kicked backward with everything I had left.
With a heavy splash, we both went over the edge into the frigid, ink-black ocean water.
The cold hit my system like a physical blow, shocking the air straight out of my lungs.
The sea water was ice, dragging down my heavy coat, wrapping around my limbs like lead weights. Below me, the deep, black abyss of the harbor opened up.
Daniel panicked. For all his calculation, for all his meticulous planning, he had never accounted for chaos. He couldn't swim well in heavy clothes with a ruined shoulder. He thrashed violently, screaming through mouthfuls of salty water, his arms flailing as he tried to claw his way back up the barnacle-encrusted wooden pilings.
I kicked off my heavy coat underwater, surfacing five feet away.
I grabbed the lower rung of the dock’s emergency ladder, gasping for air, my lungs burning with ice and salt.
Below me, Daniel was drowning.
His face broke the surface three feet away, his hands reaching out toward me, his fingers slick with blood and seawater. "Rachel!" he choked out, gasping for air, his voice high, weak, and terrified. "Rachel! Help me! The current... it’s pulling me under! Please! I can't move my arm!"
I held onto the iron ladder, watching him.
The water splashed around his face. His eyes were wide, filled with a desperate, pathetic horror as his heavy winter boots dragged him down into the dark depths of the bay.
"Rachel!" he begged, his fingers brushing the toe of my shoe. "Please! I'm your husband!"
I looked down at the man who had sat across from my son four hours ago and watched him eat poison with a smile on his face.
"No," I said softly, my voice carrying over the sound of the churning water. "You're just a bad investment."
I pulled my foot back.
Daniel’s head went under.
For five seconds, his hand reached up through the churning grey foam, his fingers clutching at the empty fog.
Then his hand relaxed, slid beneath the dark surface, and vanished into the black tide below.
The water went completely still.
High above the harbor, bright red and blue lights broke through the thick fog as five police cruisers screeched to a halt at the marina entrance. Sirens wailed into the night sky, echoes bouncing off the hull of the boats.
Detective Miller ran down the wooden dock, his gun drawn, his coat flying behind him. "RACHEL!"
I hauled myself up the metal ladder, collapsing onto the wet planks of the pier. I sat there, shivering uncontrollably, breathing in the cold, clean air of the ocean.
Sarah came running down the pier, holding Noah tightly in her arms. "Rachel! Oh my God, Rachel!"
Noah broke free from Sarah’s grip, running toward me on small, unsteady feet. "Mommy! Mommy!"
I fell to my knees, wrapping my wet, frozen arms around my son, pulling him so close against my chest that I could feel every steady, warm beat of his heart. I buried my face in his damp hair, sobbing quietly as the sirens filled the night.
Detective Miller dropped to one knee beside us, looking out over the dark, empty water where the oil slick from The Apex drifted slowly out to sea.
He looked at me, seeing the blood on my face, the torn clothes, and the fierce, unbroken light in my eyes.
"Is he down there?" Miller asked quietly.
May you like
I held my son tighter, looking the detective straight in the eye.
"He's gone," I said. "And we are finally home."
