Course of the Heart by Cam Dawson Page A

bulkhead and let’s shove off.”
    “Where to?” Drew asked.
    “Just head north, toward the out islands. You must have seen them on your way in. But before you do, I want you to bring my dinghy around to the stern. Then I want you to tie your dinghy behind it.”
    Drew did as ordered, his mind racing to develop a plan that didn’t entail him or Sam being shot. When he had finished with the tasks, he stood at the wheel once again, with Sam pressed up against him.
    “Is there anyone who isn’t following us?” she whispered.
    “No talking, please.” Chester’s voice held an edge that made Drew feel uncomfortable. “Now let’s shove off.”
    An hour later an island came into view. As instructed Drew motored into a narrow inlet of deep water.
    “Now, I want you to shut the engine off and throw me the ignition key.”
    “Look, just take the urn and go. I could care less.”
    “Shut up!”
    Drew’s gut clenched at Chester’s angry tone, a sudden turnaround from the man’s initial calm demeanor. Sam also jumped and issued a short scream. The bastard smiled and once again appeared calm. “Just do as I say, Mr. Richey.”
    After the engine was shut down, Chester told them to climb into the Sail Out dinghy. When they were in the dinghy he retrieved a bag from his dinghy and removed two sets of handcuffs. He tossed them to Sam.
    “I want you to place a cuff from one pair onto Mr. Richey’s wrist, and then one of the clasps from the other pair on your right hand. The extra clasp for both you and Mr. Richey needs to be clamped onto the outboard brace. Then I want you to remove the wire that’s connected to the spark plug of the engine and toss it to me.”
    Drew’s mind raced. He could see no positive outcome from this. But if he tried anything now, it could get them both killed. The guy was obviously not of sound mind. He was a slowly ticking time bomb.
    He needed to think of something and he needed to think fast. Sam gave him a questioning look and he nodded for her to comply with Chester’s instructions. They had no other choice, not as long as the prick had a gun leveled on them.
    Drew cringed when she ripped the distributor wire from the plug. There went their chance to start the engine.
    He sat for a long while next to Sam in the dinghy, both of them handcuffed to the engine. He was mostly silent, in deep thought, while Bynum hefted another bag into the sailboat, and went below. He emerged periodically and shined a light toward the dinghy, as if Drew and Sam might not be there. After eternity long while, Chester re-appeared, smiling and brushing his hands.
    “Now, I believe that completes my tasks.” He walked toward the stern and threw the bags back into his dinghy, then jumped onboard and placed the urn next to him.
    “So, you’re going to just leave us here?” Sam asked, and Drew flinched.
    “Let him leave, Sam,” he whispered.
    “Silly me,” the man said, and Drew braced for the worst. Bynum shoved their dinghy adrift with his foot. “Of course not. I wouldn’t just leave you here, now would I? That wouldn’t be nice, would it?”
    “That would be fine, Chester,” Drew said. “We’re fine. You just go on now. You’ve got the urn, you’ve gotten what you came for. Just leave us alone. If you’ll toss us the key to these cuffs, we’ll be on our way.”
    “You know what,” the man said with a sick look on his face. “I think I accidentally dropped those keys overboard. But not to worry, you aren’t going to need them anyway.”
    “Is that right?” Drew just had to ask.
    “Oh yes, that’s correct.” He looked at his wristwatch. “In about . . . let’s see. In about forty-three, no forty-two minutes, there won’t be any boat for you to sail away on, Mr. Richey. I’m afraid there’s going to be a rather loud boom. I don’t think there will be enough of a boat left to do much sailing.”
    “You son of a—,” Sam said, and began to cry.
    Chester’s smile disappeared and he