How could she find Karon’s killer if she died too? And that gave her even more incentive to live. She had the sense that someone had been there in the house with her, but the image, the memory, was too vague. She’d been going through Karon’s things, looking for a clue as to why her best friend’s body had washed up on the beach. Someone had obviously sabotaged the vessel. That news hit her like an anchor, heavy and bone jarring. In her panic she hadn’t noticed the red light wasn’t flickering.

How could this happen? She continued calling for help, then realization slowly dawned. The cold water assured her she must be somewhere in the North Pacific off the Washington coast where she’d been before waking up on the boat.

She glanced at the dash to relay her coordinates but nothing worked so she couldn’t know her exact location. At the helm, she found the radio and turned to the channel the Coast Guard, marine patrol or any other authorities might monitor. That is, if she didn’t find a way to survive, or if someone didn’t come to her aid. Sadie was going to die in a watery grave. Oh, God, please help me! But it looked like that was exactly what was about to happen. The pump, if there was one, would be beneath the water that clearly rushed in from not only belowdecks, but above as waves crashed over the sinking vessel.Ī drowning death was her worst nightmare. Maybe she only needed to find the pump and expel the water from the storm, except it was already too late. Sadie made her way to the helm in search of the radio, aware that with each second that passed, the boat took on more water. She rolled to her knees to stand and get her sea legs to walk with the lurching, rolling of a boat in a storm. What is going on? She didn’t know how she’d ended up on this boat, but that didn’t matter so much as how she was going to get off. She gasped and choked until she caught her breath again. And then the boat pitched with the next wave and cold water rushed over her.

Panic swept over her with the force of a tidal wave. What? Where am I? By the listing of her quarters, she realized she was on a boat and waves caused the swaying motion, the violent rocking. She released the pendant from its snare and pushed up on her elbows, nausea washing over her again. A small silver dolphin pendant pressed into the gray marine carpet near her cheek. The coldness licked at her toes until she slowly realized the sensation felt more than cold-it felt wet.īlinking, Sadie Strand pushed through the debilitating fuzziness and stirred completely awake. Her head throbbed and grogginess gripped her.

Thread of Revenge by Elizabeth Goddard