Sam knew he was getting close. He'd seen glimpses of the sailboat with its sails down. The gas in is outboard was almost out. He had a few more minutes, but not much more.



He was still too far away to see what was happening or if Delanie was on board. If this wasn't the right boat he would hire as many sailboats, helicopters, and small planes as he could and get them to track down Delanie.



This boat had to be it. He could make out a man standing on deck, but not much more. Damn, he needed the binoculars but he didn't want to step away from the controls and risk slowing down.



As he moved closer he could see another person on deck. They were laying face down. The blond could be Delanie, but then again maybe not.



The guy aboard the other boat began signaling but Sam kept going, getting closer. He'd kill the bastard if he'd hurt Delanie.



Now the guy looked upset and started yelling but Sam couldn't hear him above the roar of his outboard motor. His heart thundered faster as he approached the boat. He knew he was coming in too fast and going against every rule of maritime etiquette but he had to know.



The woman sat up, her face a mask of fear. It took Sam only a second to realize that it wasn't Delanie. He backed off the throttle and let the boat drift to a stop. The guy on the other boat yelled a few choice curses before Sam could speak.



"Hey, there's a guy out here who kidnapped my friend. He's killed one woman and he'll kill again. Have you seen any other boats?"



The guy hunched his shoulders and spoke to the woman she stood up and yelled. "What?"



"My girlfriend has been kidnapped. They guy is on a boat. He tortures women and kills them. Have you seen any other boats?"



"No, no one else has been around."



"Damn."



"Can we help?"



"I don't know. He's dangerous. Be careful."



The woman went to the man and wrapped her arms around him. "We will," the man hollered out.



Sam went back to the outboard and bent to start it up but stopped. "Hey, do you have any extra gas?" He called out to the couple.



"What?"



"Gas, do you have any extra?"



The man shrugged. "We have some we can spare."



Sam pulled his sailboat closer to the couple and thanked them over and over again as they transferred half of their gas to his outboard.



He took off, racing west, praying that he could find some clue of where the bastard had taken Delanie. It was doubtful that he would find anything, but he had to try.



With radio mic in hand he hesitate calling Bill to tell him he'd totally lost Delanie. What if he called off the Coast Guard? What if they gave up? They couldn't give up now.



Hell, he was screwed. Bill had to know and then maybe they could start searching somewhere else. Tears streaked down his face as he clicked to talk to Bill. It wasn't the news he wanted to relay, but he had no other choice.



****



Delanie watched her captor as he moved about the sailboat. His movements were sure and athletic, but she noticed that he didn't trust his feet when a huge wave rocked the boat. It wasn't anything big, only a small hesitation in his movement.



She watched him for a few more minutes, confirming what she'd guessed at. After one of the larger waves rolled the boat she saw the way his knee gave way and how he steadied himself. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.



The guy was also a self-obsessed jerk. He constantly touched his body. She could use that too. She just needed to be free for a few seconds and then she could totally kick his ass.



"You know, this could be your greatest role."



She said nothing, just watched the way he moved. The bindings on her wrists were uncomfortable. They bit into her flesh. He'd hit her foot and that stung like fire. If he'd kept at it he probably would have broken some bones.



Walking would be a bitch. The souls of her feet would ache for days. Right now, even without putting any weight on them the pain snaked up her calves to her knees.



How could someone even think about beating the bottom of someone's foot? It was a particularly cruel punishment. She couldn't imagine if he'd kept at it or had a better angle.



She wouldn't break though. She would fight the bastard until she drew her last breath. He might damage her body, break her feet or worse, other bones, but he wouldn't get her to submit to him.



Her only experience with things like this had been in the movies. Her boyfriends might have been jerks but none of them had ever beaten her. If one of them had tried she probably would have hit back and had to deal with the consequences.



This guy had no clue how angry his punches and beatings made her. Once, a long time ago she'd read for a script where the woman was beaten and fought back. She hadn't gotten the part but she remembered how angry she'd felt at the unjust of the situation. This brought back all of those feelings.



From what she knew about this guy he had done this many times before. Amanda wasn't the first girl. He'd probably killed at least ten women. She wanted to beat the crap out of the guy. If she ever got a chance at taking him down she would.



The reality was that she was trapped and no one would be coming around to save her. Their plan had felt foolproof when they'd hatched it. Well, not really, but close.



For a few seconds she wanted to cry. Tears stung her eyes as her thoughts turned dark. How the hell was she supposed to get out of this one? There were no stunt doubles and no stagehands waiting to get her out of a tough situation.



The guy's name, she wanted his name. Had to have it. He came close again. A knife glinted at his side. Fear ricochet around her brain. She didn't want to die yet.



He laughed, "Oh, no. I'm not going to cut you yet. I want to talk. You wouldn't believe how lonely it can be out here with no one to talk to."



The knife slid through the cloth covering her mouth. Then he moved so fast before she knew it a slice of her hair fell to his hands. The bitch of it was that previous to the trip her hair had actually been contracted. She couldn't cut the locks or change the style in any way. She'd wanted to go short for some time but not this way.



Laughter bubbled up her throat and out of her mouth. The haircut she'd been dying to have might just kill her.



"What? You think that's funny."



She looked up and saw the anger beading in his eyes. The sobering effect was immediate. "No, not at all."



"Good. Maybe I should have kept the gag on?" His left hand grabbed her chin and jerked her head back. She wanted to cry out, but didn't. His thumb dug into her jaw, leaving what she knew would be a nasty mark.



Damn, the desire to laugh hit her unexpectedly but she caught it before letting the giggle fly. It had to be the stress and the fear acting together. Normally she wasn't giggly, shoots were done quickly and efficiently when she was on set. Sure there was a time to goof around, but movie making was serious business. She just couldn't channel the same spirit right now.



This was it. If she didn't get away from this bastard now then she never would. Drastic was her only option