Page 118 of The High Island

‘It’s on another call-out, sir. Ethan’s confident theAngelwill getus to Cava. It may of course be a false alarm. But since we were planning on heading there at dawn . . .’ Her voice, which had been tailing off, now went silent.

‘Jo,’ he tried. ‘Jo, are you still there?’

Nothing.

Already risen, Erling pulled on his clothes and went to check outside. The sun would be coming up soon and possibly by the time they arrived at Cava. Assuming they could reach the island safely, he thought, taking note of the white horses on Scapa and the brisk wind swirling about him.

But Ethan Howie was a true boatman, and theAngela sturdy craft, he told himself firmly.

Deciding he should alert the police launch to an earlier start than scheduled, he made the call, explaining what had happened and requesting that he be picked up at Houton Bay.

Then he headed for his car.

58

As another wave broke, swirling white water across the bow, Jo stole a glance at Ethan. Turning and spotting her, he gave her a look that suggested, despite the rough seas, all would be well.

Jo wished she could share his confidence. TheAngelwas braving the waves all right, it was her own courage, she felt, that was lacking.

Ivan, standing behind her in the small cabin, hadn’t made a sound during the pitching and rolling, but from the corner of her eye, she could see where his white-knuckled hand was gripped to prevent himself from being thrown about.

‘The beacon’s almost out,’ Ethan said, pointing.

Jo had to take his word for that, because she could see nothing through the wave-splattered windscreen. She realized she had no idea where the sea ended and the land began. Instead, she fastened her gaze on Ethan’s face and his hands on the wheel and knew that, despite his words of confidence directed at her, he was as worried as any fisher or ferryman would be in such circumstances.

At this moment the bow of theAngelsuddenly rose, throwing her backwards, water rushing round her feet. She realized she was about to fall, but could grab for nothing, her eyes blinded by the spray.

Then a hand caught her life jacket and dragged her upright again.

‘Hold on to me,’ Ethan ordered, taking her hand and fastening it around him. ‘I’m about to turn into the bay.’

Holding on tightly, Jo felt the power of his attempts to turn theAngeland hold her on course, despite the strength of the surge that tried to claim her. Pressed now to Ethan’s back, she couldn’t see Ivan, but as Ethan completed the manoeuvre, she heard a shout of success from behind.

They were now in the lee offered by the small rocky headland, each wave urging them towards the shore.

Loosening her grasp on Ethan, she checked on Ivan and found his cheeks even ruddier than usual, his grin even wider.

‘Bloody hell. That’s why I never wanted to be a fisherman,’ he announced with gusto.

‘Keep a hold, both of you,’ Ethan ordered. ‘The surge is still strong here and I need to drop the anchor.’

Trying hard to focus, Jo thought she could make out the jumble of buildings and the wall where they’d ducked out of sight of the drug boat.

‘The beacon was lit on top of the hill you climbed to get a signal,’ Ethan reminded her. ‘It’s definitely out now and we don’t know as yet who lit it,’ he warned. ‘Or why.’

Ethan was right. They had fastened their hopes on the possibility that Kris Mowat was not the burnt body on the beach at Lyrawa, but was instead alive here on Cava with the missing Rachael. Mackie’s utterings in the hospital together with the jottings in Ivor’s notebook had planted that hope. But that’s all it was, a hope.

Ethan was only reminding them that it might not be true. What if whoever lit the beacon had done it for nefarious reasons? After all, the visiting drug boat hadn’t taken kindly to their previous outing here.

‘You ready?’ Ethan said as he offered up his hand to help her down into the dinghy. ‘There’s room for the three of us,’ he told Ivan. ‘Just go canny.’

The wind was still strong even in the sheltered bay. Jo tasted salton her lips and tongue and thought again of the image of Ethan disappearing beneath the waves as she had scrambled over the rocks in her desperation to get to him.

‘Hey,’ his voice said encouragingly. ‘We’re in the shallows now.’ He got out, then offered her his hand again. She took it gratefully. Ivan was on his feet now too and all three trudged towards the beach, where Ethan fastened the line to a nearby rock.

‘Right, so what’s the plan now, Detective Sergeant?’ he said.

Jo was saved from answering by Ivan’s sudden shout. ‘There’s someone coming,’ he said, pointing.