Found at Sea - By Anne Marie Duquette Page 0,81

being moved to a regular ward, but for now it seemed the worst of the virus was over. Only the secondary infection still needed treatment.

“If your wife had come to us just one hour later, I don’t know if we could have saved her,” the doctor had said. “Your sister-in-law made the right call. She couldn’t have survived much longer with just simple clinical care.”

Now Gerald waited for Dorian to wake as he remembered all the trouble he and his family had survived, thanks to Aurora. Aurora—the cocksure sister-in-law he’d never liked, the sister-in-law Dorian had never forgiven. The woman Gerald had blamed for Tanya’s rebelliousness.

Gerald felt heartily ashamed of himself. Aurora’s actions weren’t responsible for Tanya’s problems. Tanya was responsible, and so was he. Gerald had never been able to handle his wild daughter because he’d never taken time to build a relationship with her. He was always working, working, working and leaving Dori alone with a daughter whose forceful personality needed the guidance of both a strong mother and a present father.

He’d conveniently blamed his own failings on Aurora. Yet if it weren’t for Aurora, Dorian would be dead, Tanya still in jail and his company bankrupt. Aurora—whose own parents hadn’t bothered to give a talented yet stubborn child the guidance she needed, either. They’d made no serious attempt to understand her. They’d let her run off, made too few efforts to retrieve her and moved away from home, severing any ties and any hope of a homecoming.

And he, Gerald, had continually dodged the problems he’d married as his in-laws’ problems, not his. Dorian’s bitterness over the past and his disdain for her family had hurt his marriage and wasted valuable time his daughter, Tanya, desperately needed.

Dorian had nearly lost her life and could still lose her sister. He felt like a failure as a husband, father and brother-in-law. As a family man. The woman he’d accused of having no concept of family had shown a better understanding of it than anyone could have guessed. She and Jordan Castillo, who wasn’t even family, had done what Gerald should be doing.

Taking charge, doing the right thing and putting family...people...others first. What was he doing now? Sitting in his recuperating wife’s room, while Jordan took care of Aurora and Tanya.

Gerald rose to his feet. He kissed Dorian gently on the forehead, told the nurse he’d be at Balboa Hospital and called a cab. This time, the blame would rest where it belonged—on his shoulders, not Aurora’s. For once he would handle his family’s problems. He would check on his daughter and on his wife’s sister, take the burden off Jordan, and then...

Then he would call the police.

U.S.A. and Mexico

International Marine Border

THE COAST GUARD patrolled the dark waters of the Pacific, just as their Mexican counterparts patrolled theirs. Both sides were cooperating, jointly searching for the Mako and the two men, “Tom” and “Harry,” left alive from Flores’s original gang of four.

Aboard the Coast Guard ship, USS Salty Dog, the male security officer spoke to the female lookout.

“If they’re in these waters, they should be easy enough to find,” he said.

“Tell me about it,” she replied. “We had—what—two witnesses give us a description?”

“Four,” he corrected. “Two family members and two friends of the family. Good description of the boat crew, too.”

“Thankfully, these people know boats. The descriptions all match, for a change. It’ll make our job easier. Mexico thinks the boat was stolen from them and registered in our country. It’s going under the name Mako right now, but was originally registered as the Sea-Sawed.” She paused. “Sounds like smugglers to me.”

“Drugs, probably.”

“Not confirmed, but that’s usually what it is. I hope we find them before the Mexican government does,” the woman said. “I hear Mexican jails are the pits. Makes ours look like Club Med.”

“Too bad. Serves the dealers right,” said the man. “Though I’d rather Mexico found them this time. We won’t have to book them. I have a hot date tonight.”

“You bachelors.” The woman checked the radar, then raised her night-vision binoculars to her eyes again. “Well, I’m up for promotion. Finding this boat might just tip the scales in my favor. And Mexico nabbed the bad guys the last two times we did a joint search. We don’t want to look bad.”

“Well, I’m gonna look bad if I miss my date.”

“You’re both gonna look bad if you don’t concentrate,” the captain quietly warned.

“Aye, sir,” the male crewmate sang out.

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t— Captain, I think I’ve spotted