Myrtle Beach, South Carolina Operating a jet ski was fairly easy, Mindy discovered, but trying to navigate it in the dark was not. She was surprised that the proprietor even agreed to let them rent one this late in the day.
They rented the biggest jet ski the place had to offer, so they could ride double. The craft was so big that, to Mindy, it felt more like a boat. With the flared sides and long nose, they did not even get wet.
Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, eliminating the need for a flashlight. Most of their time had been spent trying to figure out how to get from one boat to the next in the shortest amount of time. The first vessel, a sailboat with a green light on the bow, was only a few hundred yards from where they launched. Even from shore, Mindy and Jenny could hear people laughing and talking amid blaring music.
"Well, we know it's not that one," Jenny said from the back of the jet ski. "Try that one over there." She pointed over Mindy's shoulder to another boat north of where they were drifting.
Mindy turned the key and revved up the engine. She pressed the accelerator then, launching the jet ski in the direction of their next target.
Matthew ran down the back stairs and left through the maintenance entrance at the rear of the building. Frantic, horrified screams reached his ears from the opposite side of the hotel, where Spencer's body had landed. Soon, all eyes would be on the street and not the water.
He cut across the beach and raced toward the marina, where the boat he ordered should now be waiting. He paid for a mid-sized ski boat. He did not want anything out of the ordinary that would draw unnecessary attention to his quest.
The boat was there, tied to a dock near the business office. He paid the old man sitting behind the counter, who watched with undisguised interest as Matthew added an extra hundred dollar bill to the pile of cash on the table.
"I'm picking up a…friend a ways down the beach," Matthew said, "and I'd appreciate it if you forget you ever saw me if my wife should show up."
The man nodded, smiled and pocketed the money.
Matthew took the keys, told the man to have a good night, and walked out onto the pier. The boat was a mint condition, competition ski boat. The inboard eight cylinder engine roared to life with one press of the ignition button, and Matthew was off.
Mindy and Jenny nearly slammed into the dimly-lit sailboat. After a few whispered yells, with no one answering to the name Christopher, they realized that this vessel, too, was not the one they were looking for.
