Ship of Fools Read online

  Ship of

  Fools

  A Fandom Hearts Novel

  Cathy Yardley

  RYW Publishing

  The author has provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author's copyright, please notify the author at [email protected]

  Contents

  The Fandom Heart Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

  THE FANDOM HEART SERIES

  LEVEL UP (Book 1)

  HOOKED (Book 1.5)

  ONE TRUE PAIRING (Book 2)

  GAME OF HEARTS (Book 3)

  WHAT HAPPENS AT CON (Book 4)

  MS. BEHAVE (Book 4.5)

  PLAYING DOCTOR (Book 5)

  SHIP OF FOOLS (Book 6)

  Chapter 1

  Rachel Frost’s head was pounding as she sat on her bed, surrounded by text books and notepads. She rubbed at the webbing between her thumb and forefinger, searching for the acupressure point that might help her head off a migraine. She didn’t think that was what was brewing, but she didn’t want to risk it, either. There was a quiz in her marketing strategy class at the end of the week that she needed to be ready for, and she wasn’t going to let a stress headache get in the way of studying.

  Only six months to graduation, she thought with a weak grin. After two and a half years of pursuing her MBA on top of her day job and working with her sisters at the family book and collectibles store, she was feeling a little crispy around the edges, but at least the end was in sight.

  Of course, that was not including the latest curveball. Their landlord wanted to take advantage of the skyrocketing housing prices in the area before they inevitably fell back to earth… which meant he was selling the house out from under them unless they could figure out a way to get him to sell to them. The headache throbbed at the thought.

  She wasn’t sure how she was going to get the money. Her sister Hailey’s boyfriend was a famous actor who had more than enough money to buy the house, but their landlord hated actors in general, and his show in particular, and was giving them a hard time. Rachel’s other sister, Cressida, was pursuing a wild hair and had actually battled her agoraphobia to travel down to California in pursuit of a treasure a famous author had supposedly hidden there.

  Honestly. A treasure. Rachel pressed her fingertips against her temples, rubbing in small circles. She loved Cressida and wanted to be as supportive as possible, but she still worried. Cressida was the main reason she wanted to keep the house. It was the only safe space Cressida had ever known – her home base, and the one place that kept Cressida’s panic attacks at bay. If they moved, it would be hard for Cressida to re-establish that feeling of safety. Rachel felt sure that Cressida could manage it… eventually. But there would be a painful adjustment curve.

  That was what was driving Cressida on this wild goose chase. She was a grown woman, and Rachel couldn’t and wouldn’t stop her, even though she’d gone hundreds of miles away with a relative stranger – some guy named Noah.

  Rachel glanced at her phone. Cressida was supposed to check in with them every day. So far, she hadn’t called in yet. Rachel felt the pain in her head ratchet up.

  Focus on what you can control, she lectured herself, picking up the marketing strategy book.

  After an hour, and a few chapters of Good Strategy, Bad Strategy outlined, she was about ready to throw in the towel when the phone finally rang. She looked at the display.

  It wasn’t Cressida, she realized immediately. But the number was from California.

  Maybe it’s a telemarketer, she told herself, even as her heart started beating faster. Because in her heart, she knew it wasn’t some scam call, wasn’t a bot offering her a vacation if she took a survey.

  Something’s wrong. The tiny voice in her head was fearful, insistent.

  She quickly hit “answer.” “Hello?”

  “Hello,” a brisk female voice said. “Who am I speaking with?”

  “This is Rachel. Rachel Frost.” Her heart started hammering. “Who is this?”

  “I’m a nurse at St. Catarina’s, in Barstow.”

  Just like that, Rachel’s stomach felt like she was on a roller coaster. Nurse?

  “You’re listed as emergency contact for the owner of this phone. I don’t have her name…”

  “Does she have red hair? Pale skin?” Rachel didn’t even wait for a response. “That’s Cressida Frost, my sister.”

  There was a pause and a muffled response, then the nurse got back on the phone. “Well, Cressida was found out in the desert. We’re going to have our doctor look her over, and we’ll see about settling her down. We might need an evaluation…”

  “Evaluation?” Rachel interrupted. “You mean, psychiatric? Because she’s agoraphobic. She’s been evaluated here, in Seattle. Well, near Seattle,” she amended, then realized she was babbling. “She’ll be fine as soon as she gets home. We just need to get her home.”

  “We’ll have to see,” the nurse said, and Rachel felt a stab of panic. They needed to move it. Cressida was probably in agony. Being subjected to another psych eval in a strange town was hardly going to help with that, and prolonging her absence from her safe space would only make it worse.

  What the hell happened out there?

  “Can I talk to her?” Rachel asked.

  “I’ll have her call you when the panic attack settles down.” The woman sounded no-nonsense, although not unkind.

  “As soon as you can. Please,” Rachel added. “And thank you for taking care of her. We’ll be there as soon as we possibly can.”

  “Yes, all right,” the woman answered. “Thank you.” She hung up.

  Rachel sat still for a second, her mind swirling like a tornado. St. Catarina’s in Barstow, she thought. They had to get down there. It would take hours to drive down there – two days, maybe a day and a half if they pushed it. A plane would be better. They needed to take a plane.

  They. She needed to let Hailey know. When Rachel’s mother had abandoned her as a baby, she’d gotten pregnant with Hailey a few years later, and Hailey had grown up in the foster system after their mother’s death. Hailey had found Cressida in a particularly horrific foster home, and the two were close in ways that Rachel knew she’d never fully understand. She had to let Hailey know.

  Unfortunately, Hailey wasn’t in the house at the moment. She was currently spending the night as she usually did, with her boyfriend, the hot actor Jake Windlass. Rachel quickly hit Hailey’s contact number.

  “What’s up?” Hailey answered immediately. “Thought you had a hot date with some study materials.”

  “Cressida,” Rachel said immediately, then relayed the brief conversation she’d had with the nurse.

  “Fuck!” Hailey shouted. “When I find the guy who convinced her to go on this fucking treasure hunt, I am going to skin him alive. If she’s hurt, I’m going to…”

  “I agree, but now’s not the time,” Rachel said, heading Hailey off before she could go full meltdown. “They’ll call if there’s anything else wrong with her, but at least it sounds like she’s had a massive panic attack. The sooner we can get her home, the better.”

  “You’re right. Okay.” There was a second of silence. “Barstow. That’s out in the desert. I’m not sure what airports are closest. We’d proba
bly have to go to a major airport and drive. LAX, maybe? Vegas?”

  “That’s going to take time,” Rachel said, gripping the phone tight enough for her fingers to hurt. “Then there’s getting Cressida through a crowded airport and onto a crowded passenger plane. After she may have had another psych evaluation.”

  “We can have them prescribe tranquilizers, then drive her,” Hailey said, and Rachel could hear the grimace in her voice. “It’s not ideal, but it worked when we moved her from L.A. up to Snoqualmie, remember?”

  “Yeah.” Of course, Cressida had been barely a teen them. Rachel frowned. Cressida had managed to make it down the coast in the R.V. God only knew where that was. Had Noah abandoned Cressida out in the desert?

  “Huh? Hold on a second, Jake has a suggestion.” There was muffled conversation, then Hailey popped back on the line. “He said that maybe we could use a private plane. That way, they can land at a smaller air strip, closer to Barstow, and it’ll get Cressida home more quickly, without dealing with all the crowds and the major airport.”

  “God, that sounds perfect,” Rachel said immediately, gratitude pouring through her.

  More muffled conversation. “It might take a day or two to set up the rental, though,” Hailey admitted.

  Rachel’s optimism sank. “Well, that’s not ideal,” she said. “But it’s still a better idea than any we’ve come up with.”

  “Jake’s going to ask his agent if she knows anybody that’s ready to roll,” Hailey said, but her voice sounded doubtful. “Worst case scenario, we call first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll go to SeaTac, hop on a flight to Vegas now,” Rachel said. “I could be there by morning, I think.”

  “We can make this work,” Hailey said. “Don’t panic. If I could get a private plane there tonight, I would, you know that. I’d do anything for Cressida, or for you. Absolutely anything.”

  “I know.” Rachel bit her lip, feeling guilt wash over her. Not that it was her fault – again, Cressida was a grown woman. But the thought of her adopted sister in pain and alone was enough to send her into a frenzy.

  “Hang in there, and tell me what flight you’re going on,” Hailey said. “If I can find a private flight that’s available tonight, I’ll let you know. And if you know anybody with a plane – maybe one of the high rollers from the casino? – then you call me, okay?”

  She knew Hailey meant it as a joke. Rachel’s day job was in the events and marketing department at the Blue Moon Casino, near their house. She wasn’t exactly rubbing elbows with the whales that frequented the big-money games. “I’ll see if I can think of anyone,” Rachel still said, wracking her brain as Hailey hung up.

  She could ask her boss if he knew anybody… if any of the high rollers had a private plane they might be willing to lend. Although how would she pay back something like that? Other than the casino, the only rich people she knew were her friend Stacy’s boyfriend, who did charter jets from time to time when visiting his family in England… and of course, the other actors on Hailey’s boyfriend’s show, which Hailey would be looking into now…

  Ren.

  She blinked.

  Ren Chu. Her high school boyfriend – and son of one of the wealthiest families in Seattle, owning a conglomerate that provided electronics parts of various sorts for computers, phones, and a wide assortment of gadgetry.

  His family owned a plane. Hell, when she knew him, they owned several.

  She hadn’t given him conscious thought in years, since he’d dumped her unceremoniously the summer after their senior year of high school.

  After asking you to marry him the year before.

  She closed her eyes. It had hurt, more than anything she’d ever experienced before – or since, if she was being honest. But he’d said one thing before he left.

  If you ever need anything, call me. No matter what, no matter when.

  For all she knew, he’d changed his phone number. But she still found herself dialing his number – how the hell she remembered it, she had no idea – and paced around her bedroom, her palms getting sweaty, her body bouncing with energy.

  “Hello?”

  She swallowed hard. Oh my God, it’s him. She’d know that deep, silky voice anywhere.

  “H-hello,” she said, cursing her bobble. “Ren?”

  “Yes?” He sounded puzzled.

  “It’s me. Rachel.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Rachel?”

  She bit her lip. “Rachel Frost,” she said, her voice a little tart.

  He laughed. “I knew which Rachel,” he said, still sounding amused. “I’m just surprised you called.”

  “You and me both,” she said. She sounded breathless to her own ears.

  “I’m glad you did,” he added. “How are things? You doing all right?”

  She didn’t have time for small talk. She squinched her eyes shut, like she was about to leap off a high dive.

  Then she leaped.

  “Remember when you said if I ever needed anything, you’d help me?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Are you all right?” he repeated, this time with more emphasis.

  “I need your help,” she said. “Specifically, I need your plane.”

  #

  It’s Rachel.

  Ren Chu stood outside of the Hilton hotel in Seattle, temporarily gobsmacked. It was raining, with just a hint of hail, as he stood under an awning, watching the drops fall in strong rivulets. The January air was cold, but the hotel ballroom where the fundraiser he was attending was being held had been hot and stifling, so the cold air felt like a relief.

  He hadn’t planned on answering his phone, since he didn’t recognize the number, but something had prompted him to pick up. On hearing her voice, he’d quickly moved outside to hear her better – to catch every word.

  Rachel. Rachel Frost.

  My Rachel.

  Not that he had any right to think that. They’d broken up, what, ten years ago? Back in high school, for God’s sake. He forced himself to focus. “You need… my plane?” he repeated, trying to make sure he understood what she was asking for.

  “Yes.” He heard her taking a deep breath, then the words tumbled out like water from a waterfall. “Cressida went on this crazy treasure hunt, and now she’s stuck in the Mojave Desert. Well, Barstow, really. And she’s in the hospital freaking out, and they want to do a psychiatric evaluation, and she’s all alone, and I’m trying to get her back as quickly and easily as possible.”

  He felt stunned as he tried to process what she was saying. “Cressida went on a treasure hunt?” he echoed. “I thought she had agoraphobia…?”

  “She does. It’s a long story,” Rachel said, and he got the feeling she didn’t have time to go into details. She sounded panicked, and she so rarely did. Even when they were teens, she’d always had her act together. It took a lot to rattle her.

  Like you dumping her.

  He winced at the thought.

  “You don’t need to tell me now,” he said, conscious of the fact that he was leaving the door open for her to tell him later. “She’s in Barstow, you say?”

  “Yes. At St. Catarina’s hospital.”

  “All right.” His mind raced, thinking logistics. “I’ll contact my assistant, put him in contact with you. He’ll make sure that you have a driver that can take you to the private air strip in SeaTac. It’s easier than trying to tell you how to get there yourself,” he added, when he heard her start to protest. “He’ll also get the flight plan together to the closest airfield to the hospital. I’ll also arrange for a driver on the other side, one that will pick you up and take you to the hospital. The plane’s gassed up and ready to go. I’ll have the pilot ready to go in under an hour or two.”

  He heard her breath hitch. “That’s… thank you, Ren. Thank you. The sooner we can get to her, the better.”

  We?

  He hadn’t thought about that. Was she maybe bringing a boyfriend? Or… a hus
band? He felt bile churn. He hadn’t thought of that possibility.

  Jealousy he had absolutely no right to feel hit him like a kick from Connor Macgregor. He gritted his teeth. “How many of you will be on the flight?”

  “Just me and Hailey on the way down,” she said. “Maybe Hailey’s boyfriend Jake, as well, if that’s all right. Then all of us and Cressida on the way back.”

  Relief coursed through him. “That’s fine,” he reassured her. “The driver will take you all back after you return to Seattle, okay?”

  “That’s so much trouble, Ren.”

  He felt his chest squeeze. It’s not too much trouble for you.

  He knew better than to say it aloud. “This will be the easiest thing for Cressida,” he said, knowing that was the most effective approach to get around Rachel’s misgivings. “And it’ll get you there the quickest.”

  There was a long pause, and she sighed in acquiescence. “All right. But I’ll owe you, big time.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” he said, lowering his voice. “Really. I’m happy to help.”

  “But I’ll want to pay you back,” she pressed.

  He closed his eyes. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want helping her to seem transactional in any way. He cared about her too much. Even after all this time.

  “Why don’t you just take care of Cressida,” he said gently. “When things settle down, you can call me, and we’ll… talk about it. Okay?”

  “All right.” Rachel’s voice sounded scratchy, like she was fighting tears. “Thank you, again.”

  “We’ll talk soon.”

  She hung up. He stared at the phone for a long moment, memories washing over him. Rachel, wearing glasses and braces, when he’d first fallen head over heels for her in middle school. Freshman year of high school, when they’d started cautiously dancing around a relationship. Sophomore year, their first kiss, their first true acknowledgment of how they felt about each other.