Authors: Rebecca York
Del Conte’s limp body shot past, disappearing below the surface of the churning water.
“Duck,” Emma shouted, scrunching down to avoid a jagged piece of metal hanging down in the doorway.
As they rocketed out into the open sea, Cole felt a surge of relief, until he saw the water seeping into the bottom of the boat. He’d been too busy to notice earlier that Del Conte’s bullets had pierced the bottom of the craft.
He emptied the first aid kit, using the box to bail water. The women had also found containers holding emergency supplies and were frantically scooping out water.
“What about the radio?” he asked Walker.
The security chief pointed to the cockpit.
“Take over the bailing,” Cole said as he maneuvered to the front and clicked on the communications equipment.
They’d left Florida with an automatic system. Now he began broadcasting on a public frequency. With Del Conte out of the way, there was no need to speak on a private channel or in code.
“This is Cole Marshall. Cole Marshall. And Emma Richards. We have cleared the
Windward
. We have KH with us. We are in a sinking boat and need immediate assistance.” Using the GPS in the cockpit, he gave their coordinates.
At first he heard nothing, and he thought he hadn’t gotten through. Behind him, Walker and the women were losing the battle to keep the craft afloat.
He kept repeating the message, wondering if he should broadcast a general May Day message.
Finally, the speaker crackled. “Cole Marshall, this is Decorah Security. We have your location. We will rendezvous momentarily.”
“Over there,” Emma shouted, pointing toward the right as a cabin cruiser came speeding toward them.
When it pulled alongside, Cole helped Karen to the ladder, guiding her up.
“Go,” he said to Emma as soon as Karen was on board the rescue craft. She scrambled up, followed by Anna, then Walker. Cole was last, watching water swamp the speedboat.
“Get up here, you fool,” Frank Decorah called, obviously unable to keep his cool.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Cole answered as he complied.
On board, he stepped into the cabin and saw Karen holding tight to an older man. Her father!
Apparently Morton Hopewell had insisted on joining the rescue party. Cole shuddered. What if they hadn’t been able to free Karen?
“I am so sorry this happened to you,” Hopewell was saying. You’re ‘re sure you’re all right?”
“Yes.” She looked back at the group who had come aboard. “Thanks to Emma and Cole and the others. Ben Walker was Del Conte’s security chief.”
The older Hopewell reared back. “Then what the hell is he doing here?”
“He was working under cover,” Anna said.
“And you are?” Hopewell demanded.
“On the staff in the beauty salon,” the Asian woman supplied. “I was part of a group trying to take Del Conte down.
Where is Del Conte?” Hopewell asked.
Cole glanced at Karen, figuring she could fill her dad in on the details if she wanted to. “Drowned. He won’t threaten you or anyone else again.”
“But there are more people who need to be rescued from the
Windward
,” Anna said. “Cast members who are in danger from the security staff.”
“Cast members? That’s what he calls them—like at Disney World.”
“Yes.”
“We have a team standing by,” Decorah answered. He turned to Walker. “How would you suggest we go in?”
“Broadcast to the ship that Del Conte is dead. Anyone who wants to get off will be given passage to the mainland.”
“Some of the guards are dangerous,” Anna breathed.
“But a lot of them are good men who got trapped here just the way you did,” Ben said. “I can give you a list of the ones with criminal records. You can have the Miami police standing by to take care of those.”
“Good idea,” Frank answered, then turned to Emma and Cole. “Excellent job.”
“Thanks,” Cole answered, thinking that they almost hadn’t made it. But he’d save that until later.
“Let’s go where we can talk.” Frank ushered Emma and Cole into a private cabin.
As soon as the door was closed, Cole rounded on Decorah. “That was an unacceptable risk. Emma and I could have gotten killed.”
Frank’s expression turned apologetic. “I know that now. I didn’t know it when I sent you. And I was desperate to get Karen back.”
“What’s she to you?”
He swallowed. “My daughter.”
“What?” Emma breathed.
“She doesn’t know it. And don’t tell her.”
“Then what’s she doing with Hopewell?” Cole asked.
Sadness suffused Frank’s features. “Her mother died when she was born. And I was dealing with a missing leg. I couldn’t take care of her on my own. Morton and Sarah Hopewell were desperate to adopt a child. When they told me they’d love her like their own, I knew giving her to them was the right thing to do.”
He dragged in a breath and let it out. “She’s been happy with them. They gave her more than I ever could.”
Cole nodded, understanding why his boss had seemed so personally involved in the rescue mission.
“That’s why her face looked familiar to us?”
“Yes. And she has her mother’s red hair. But that’s the end of this discussion. Give me the executive summary of the mission, so I can feel guilty about putting you in so much danger.”
“It turned out okay,” Cole answered.
He and Emma supplied a brief account of their time on the
Windward
.
“I’ve got that recorded, but I’ll need a detailed written report,” Decorah said when they were finished, all business again.
Emma ran a hand through her hair, obviously still coping with what they’d learned a few minutes ago. “Did you bring clothes for us?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. And you can shower, too.”
He handed them each a suitcase, and they disappeared into separate cabins to shower and change.
Cole was glad to wash off the sordid atmosphere of the
Windward
. When he’d dried off, he chose jeans and a dark knit shirt. When Emma came out, she was wearing chinos and a white camp shirt, a look which was much better suited to her than the outfits she’d been forced to wear on the
Windward
.
When they joined the group in the ship’s lounge, Frank was talking earnestly to Ben Walker, who was relaxing in an easy chair, his arm bandaged.
The conversation broke off when Cole and Emma reappeared, and he wondered what they’d been talking about.
“I could use a drink,” Frank said.
He looked at Cole. “Maybe you want double strength herbal tea.”
“Yeah,” Cole answered and glanced at Emma.
“Tea will do,” she said.
“You’ve adopted Cole’s habits,” their boss said with a speculative look at them.
“Maybe,” Emma snapped. Frank took the hint and left her staring out the window toward the mainland.
Cole tried to get comfortable in a leather chair. But he was too tense. He ached for some privacy with Emma, but at the same time he was dreading the conversation they were going to have when they were alone.
He got a reprieve when the boat docked, and Karen and her father came up to them.
“We’re both very grateful for what you did,” Hopewell said.
“We were doing our jobs.”
“At great risk to yourselves. I’d like to reward you for that.”
“No need,” Cole said brusquely.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Hopewell answered.
“You didn’t,” Emma said quickly. “We were both thankful everything worked out.”
Karen looked at her. “We weren’t friends in school, but I’m so grateful to you now. If I ever want to talk to you, is that all right?”
“Of course.” She held out her arms, and Karen came into them. No, they hadn’t been friends, but they’d shared an experience that bonded them together. And Emma knew that it had helped mature both of them. They hugged, before Emma eased away. “Take care,” she murmured.
“I will. Thanks to you. I guess I have some thinking to do—about my life.”
“Don’t make any decisions until you have a chance to decompress.”
“I won’t.”
Cole shook hands with Hopewell, and they left the ship, rolling the suitcases Decorah had brought them.
The Infinity was where he had parked it, but he realized he was missing his wallet and keys.
Decorah must have known there would be a problem because he handed Cole and Emma wallets with ID and credit cards—plus another set of car keys for Cole.
“You turned down Hopewell, but don’t turn down the bonus I’m giving you,” he said. “For getting someone important to me out of there.”
“I’d say we earned it,” Cole replied.
“And you two are due for some R&R. You have a suite reserved at the St. Augustine,” he added, mentioning a luxury resort in the area. I’ll expect you back in two weeks.”
“Thanks,” Cole answered, then cleared his throat. “I get the feeling you’re going to offer Ben Walker a job.”
“Do you approve?”
“Yes,” both Cole and Emma answered.
“That’s an excellent recommendation.”
“Go on. Get out of here and try to relax,” Frank said.
Cole wasn’t going to ask why their boss assumed they were going off together, and apparently Emma didn’t want to question it, either.
He counted it as a good sign that she hadn’t said she wanted to go back to DC immediately—alone.
“Are we going to talk?” he asked.
“Eventually,” she snapped.
They had been driving for ten minutes, when she pointed to a strip mall and said, “Stop at that shopping center.”
The tone of her voice made him wonder what she needed. It also made him think that he’d better not ask.
He found a parking place, and she got out. “I’ll be back in a while,” she said, as she marched off.
He sat behind the wheel, waiting for her, his tension growing as the minutes ticked by. Finally, after half an hour, she reappeared holding a small carry bag.
“Did you buy some more clothes?” he asked.
“Some other stuff I needed,” she answered. “Let’s go to that resort.”
The look in her eye didn’t reassure him, but at least she was still with him.
He drove to the St. Augustine, where they checked in and were shown to a waterfront suite with a living room, small kitchen, two bedrooms and two marble bathrooms. Maybe Frank hadn’t been so sure if they wanted to be together after all.
When Cole had tipped the bellman and closed the door, he turned to Emma.
His stomach was tied in knots, but he struggled to speak normally. “Well, you’re still here.”
She answered with a little shrug, then folded her arms across her chest.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Not afraid.”
“Then what?”
“You sprang a couple of nasty surprises on me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have any choices. I couldn’t tell you about the incident with the guard. Or about my heritage. Not when microphones could pick up what I said.”
“The incident with the guard! You killed him.”
“Like you killed Stella in the hall outside the docking area.”
She sighed. “Right.” After a little hesitation, she asked, “Who killed the guard? You or the wolf?”
“I am the wolf.”
“And which one was it last night?”
“The wolf. I woke up in a stateroom—as a wolf. I didn’t remember getting that way. Then the guy came in with a gun, and I reacted.”
“And then what?”
“I changed back to human form, wrapped him in the bedspread and managed to carry him up a flight of stairs to the next deck, where I dumped him overboard. Do you need to know anything else about it?”
“No. And we’re getting away from what I wanted to talk about here.”
He wanted to say that the direction of the conversation wasn’t his fault, but he figured that pointing it out was a bad idea.
She kept her gaze fixed on him. “Before we went to the
Windward
, you said that you had to be the dominant member of our pretend relationship.”
“What about it?” he answered, not liking where this was leading.
“What about our real relationship?”
“What are you asking, exactly?”
“If we’re going to . . . stay together, I have to know that there’s complete trust between us.”
“I trust you.”
“I don’t think I can take your word for that.”
“I was willing to die to protect you.”
He saw her swallow. “That was when we were in bad trouble.”
“I love you. Nothing’s changed. For me.”
“You’re going to have to prove that.”
“How?”
“By doing what you said you couldn’t do. Putting yourself in my power.”