Stranded (22 page)

“What's wrong?” Piper asked when she saw them approaching.

“I'd better let her explain when she's ready,” Gage said.

Piper took her from his arms, and he stepped away. Though he hated leaving, hated not having her in his arms, she was safe and would be well taken care of.

Darcy emerged from her tent to find breakfast served, the scent of bacon hovering in the crisp morning air.

Piper smiled as she approached the coffee thermos.

“What's going on?”

“It was Gage's turn to make breakfast.” Piper handed her a steaming cup of French roast.

“Ah.” Gage was quite the cook. It was clear why he'd planned upon high school graduation to attend culinary school. But that was before he lost Tucker, before his girlfriend, Meredith, took off for Anchorage, abandoning him and the future they'd planned together.

“Morning,” Clint said, pulling his fleece over his head. “Looks like a gorgeous day.”

The sun was bright, the sky clear.

“I hear you ladies are missing out on the trip back.” He popped a biscuit in his mouth and headed for the kayaks lined along the shore.

Darcy looked at Piper. “Ladies?”

“Yup. Looks like I'm riding back with you on the boat.”

“Let me guess . . . Gage's doing?”

“He didn't want you alone with Ted.”

Well, at least his safety precautions went across the board and didn't focus solely on Clint.

“How did you explain the change to Ted?”

“I just said I had a sore shoulder and wouldn't mind sitting this one out, and he was totally cool with it.”

“Well, I'll be glad for the company.” The less time she spent alone with Ted, the better.

Piper cleverly kept Ted talking the entire ride. She had such a sweet, unassuming nature that people naturally opened up to her—even muleheaded, testosterone-loaded Ted. By the time they reached the
Bering,
he'd provided several places to dig into his background—his family, his hometown, places he'd traveled after high school.

Landon and Gage were right—Piper had a gift.

Darcy thought she'd had a gift too—until the Sanchez case, the last case she'd worked with Abby. It had started like any other case, with rumors of corruption among the border patrol officers down along the San Diego–Tijuana border. They'd infiltrated the situation by getting waitress positions at a local border patrol hangout.

Week after week they worked to form friendships with the men they suspected of drug running and the people in their lives—girlfriends, softball buddies, colleagues. They got attached to their families, got invited to parties. One border patrol agent, Robert Sanchez, took a particularly strong liking to Darcy, and his friend Pat to Abby. Up until that case, Darcy had always been able to keep herself at arm's length, but something shifted with the Sanchez case. She and Abby were in too deep. They were living lives that weren't theirs anymore, and it came with a price.

When Darcy refused Robert's advances after months of friendship, he became suspicious. Abby said they'd come too far to walk away, that they were too close to give up. She told Darcy she didn't have to sleep with the guy, just show him some affection. But for Darcy it was a line she couldn't cross. She called her boss, Kevin, who also happened to be her boyfriend, and to her great disappointment, he told her the same.

Making up the excuse of a sick relative who needed help, Darcy left. She knew her leaving could compromise Abby's cover, but staying would have meant compromising her character.

Abby remained undercover and eventually broke the story—which reached far deeper than either of them had realized, including a corrupt DEA official as well as a state senator. It was the type of story a reporter lived to break, but in the end it fractured her friendship with Abby and ended her two-year relationship with Kevin.

The Sanchez case tainted her love of investigative reporting and prompted her to find different stories to cover. As much as she enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, it wasn't worth her soul, and that's what she had feared it would eventually come to. One little compromise led easily to another, and before she knew it, she feared she'd be willing to show affection to a source just for a piece of information. She'd had no choice but to leave.

Now that they had uncovered what they were chasing, she understood why Abby called her back. It wasn't for a story—it was about women's lives, about their dignity, about rescuing them from slavery. This was about so much more than just Abby's life. Who knew how many lives were at stake? She couldn't quit now, but how did she proceed? What was the next step? She needed to talk with whoever pulled Abby out
of the water that night. If Clint wouldn't help her discover their identity, she'd have to find another way.

Father, I'm out of my league. So many lives may be at stake. Please help me to know what to do. Please guide me and protect me.

Once the supplies had been off-loaded from the transport vessel, Darcy took the few free hours she had before the rest of the excursion group returned and headed with Piper to a coffee shop in downtown Dutch Harbor.

Piper studied Darcy over the rim of her mug. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Darcy pushed at the potato hash with her fork. “I feel like I do.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Piper had been so kind to just let her rest last night—not pushing, simply being there for her in the silence.

Darcy considered a moment, then set her fork down and shoved her plate aside. “Have you ever been in love with someone who wasn't a believer?”

Piper smiled.

Not the reaction she'd been expecting.

“You're in love with my brother?”

Darcy nodded.

“I knew it!” Piper smothered her grin. “Sorry. That's not the point.”

“It's fine.”

Piper loved playing matchmaker and detective nearly as much as she loved her family.

“The answer to your question is yes,” she said.

“Really?” Darcy leaned forward. “Who was he—somebody in high school?”

“My fiancé.”

“Landon? I'm confused. I thought he went to your church, helped Cole with youth group. . . .”

“He did, but participating in church activities doesn't make a person a believer.”

“Of course not, but . . . ?”

“Landon knew all about God, but he didn't have a relationship with Him. Not until last winter.”

“Last winter?”

Piper nodded. “Everything that happened, everything we went through, God used to bring Landon into a saving relationship with Him.”

“But Gage . . .”

“I believe Jesus can reach even the most broken of hearts and make them whole again, and I believe with all my heart that He'll break through to Gage. But all I can do, all you can do, is to continue to pray for him and to share Christ's love with him. Only God can convert the soul.”

Darcy bit her bottom lip. “Abby's not a believer. I've tried sharing Jesus with her over and over again, but she's never wanted to listen. What if . . . What if I'm too late?”

Piper reached her hand across the table and clasped hold of Darcy's hand. “Would you like to pray?”

Darcy nodded, too choked up to speak.

Piper closed her eyes and began, “Father, we bring Abby to you in prayer. You know where she is and what's happening to her. We pray if she is still alive that you will reveal yourself to her. As long as she's alive, it's never too late. I pray that wherever Abby is right now, she will make that genuine repentance of sins and accept of the free gift of your grace.”

Piper's hand tightened on Darcy's. “And I pray that if Abby has already left this world without accepting you as her Savior,
you will free Darcy from the bondage of believing it was up to her to save her friend. Amen.”

Darcy opened her tear-filled eyes to find Piper's tearing up as well.

“It's your job to tell others about Jesus, about what He's done in your life and what He can do in theirs, but you can never make someone believe, no matter how strong or pure your intentions. Salvation is between that person and God,” Piper said.

Piper was right, but it didn't make accepting the truth any easier.

The utter vacuum of hurt consuming Darcy from the inside out filled her as she and Piper made their way back to the
Bering
.

She caught sight of Gage helping passengers off-load their packs. The sun glistened off the flecks of blond running through his brown hair, and her heart emptied out to the Lord on behalf of the man she loved.

“Okay,” Landon said as Gage and Darcy prepared to reboard the
Bering
. “I'll dig where I can, but it wouldn't hurt if you two could get another look at those employee files—see if there are any similarities, any connections we may have overlooked.”

Darcy exhaled. “Maybe Gage has been right all along. What if we just go to Mullins? I think we have enough evidence to at least warrant further investigation by the cruise line. Maybe she'll let us look at the files.”

Gage looked over at her with surprise.

“Things are far worse than I imagined,” she said. “What's important is getting to the bottom of this. Maybe it's time we lay our cards on the table.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “I really wouldn't recommend it.”

“Why not?”

“From what you've described, Mullins is a serious team player. She's looking to protect her ship and her livelihood. I don't think she'll just hand over those files.”

“But surely when we explain that women are being trafficked, she'll want to get to the bottom of it—like any decent human being would.”

“We can hope, but if the extent of the situation goes public, the
Bering
's reputation—as well as that of the entire cruise line—will be damaged.”

“So you think she'd be willing to overlook criminal activity to protect her company's reputation?”

“It's possible. The way I see it, you have two choices—go to Mullins and hope she'll do the decent thing, or get another look at those files yourselves.”

“If I go to her and she says no . . .”

“Your cover will be blown and you'll never see those files,” Jake said.

Darcy paced Gage's cabin while they waited until it was late enough to break into Mullins' office for a second, and hopefully equally successful, time. “I can't believe this is happening.”

“No wonder Abby believed she needed your help.”

“I can't imagine how terrified she must have been when she realized the type of trafficking she'd uncovered.” Darcy sank down on the edge of the bed.

“Do you think she knew they were on to her?”

“I'm pretty sure I saw terror in her eyes the day I boarded the
Bering
. And when she insisted I wait in my cabin for her, I think she was trying to protect me until she could explain, until she could warn me of the danger.”

Gage sat down on the bed beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“She must have been so scared.”

“What you said the other night about your friend Stacey, about Abby . . .”

“Yes?” She looked up at him, yearning for support.

“You did what you could to save Stacey. You were just a little girl. You didn't fail her.”

“I was the stronger swimmer.”

“But you were still a kid. You can't blame yourself.”

She looked down. “And Abby?”

He lifted her chin with his finger, looking her straight in the eye. “You're doing everything you can to save her too.”

Her jaw quivered. “And if I'm too late?”

He pulled her into his embrace. “Then you know and I know that you did all you could. Sometimes there is nothing you can do, no matter how earnestly you ache to. Not even if you're willing to give your life in place of theirs.”

She sat back, wiping the tears from her eyes. Was Gage saying . . . ? Was he talking about . . . ? “Are you talking about Tucker?”

He cleared his throat and gazed across the room. “I'm just saying I know how it feels to be helpless, to want to save someone so badly you'd die to do so and it still doesn't make a difference.”

She cupped his face, and to her surprise he didn't pull back. He was so beautiful—inside and out. “I can't fathom the pain of losing a child.”

“I didn't lose him. God took him.” The edge was back in his voice when he spoke of the Lord. “You know what I don't get?” he quickly continued. “Why did God even bother creating Tucker if it was only so he could die?”

Her heart physically ached, her chest tightening at the hurt and anguish in his soulful eyes. “God didn't create Tucker to die. He created him for eternity.”

He looked at her with such longing, her breath caught. “Gage, Tucker's time on earth was short, heartbreakingly so, but his life didn't end in the NICU. He's alive for eternity.”

A hint of moisture glistened in his eyes, his words coming out choked. “You really believe my boy is alive?”

“With all my being.”

“How can you sound so sure, be so certain?”

“Because of God's Word. He's never reneged on a promise, so I know He'll keep His promise of eternal life for the innocent as well as those who choose to accept the redemptive death of His son. And I know your son and your family and I—all of us who love you—want to spend eternity with you.”

He exhaled, his eyes moist with tears. “But after how I've treated God . . . He can't possibly . . .”

“Salvation is not earned—it's a gift, it's grace. All you have to do is accept Him as your Savior. Ask Him into your life. He's waiting. He's always been waiting.”

Gage's shoulders dropped. “You make it sound so easy.”

“For us it is. Christ is the one who paid the cost.”

“You really believe I can see my boy again?”

“I believe you can spend eternity with him because Jesus loved you so much He died on a cross to bring you Home.”

How on earth was he supposed to focus on the task at hand after that conversation?

Gage stood half numb beside Darcy as she once again picked the lock to Mullins' office.

Eternity spent with his son? Eternity,
period
. He'd read about it as a child, heard his siblings quoting and discussing Scripture after their Bible studies on the subject. One verse in particular flooded his mind.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

“Gage, you with me?” Darcy asked from across the waiting area, with Mullins' door ajar.

“Yeah.” He followed her inside, shutting the outer door and the office door behind them.

“I'll print out Abby's and Jeremy's files from the past employees database, along with George's from the new employee one. You grab Ted's and Clint's files from the cabinets and start copying.”

“Roger that.” He set to work as Darcy turned on Mullins' computer. It took little time to grab the files, and then he headed for the copier. “I hope it's not too loud.” Like the one they had at LFA that rattled the walls every time it shot out a copy.

He flipped it on, waiting for it to boot up, and then started copying. Luckily it was a newer model that made little more than a low hum as it copied and spit out the sheets.

“Got them,” Darcy said, pulling the paper from the printer tray as Gage finished and shut off the copier.

She fanned the pages out, laying the files side by side. “That's interesting. . . .”

“What's that?” He glanced over her shoulder.

“They were all sent over from the Alaskan Adventure and Travel Employment Agency.”

“Really?”

“Abby's roommate said that Mullins had a remarkable way of always filling empty spots quickly.”

“And Mullins said they were her usual excursion provider.”

“Did they hire you?” she asked.

“No. Headquarters did.”

“Me too.”

“Mullins said something in the meeting to that effect—how headquarters had personally brought us in, but Alaskan Adventure, their usual excursion liaison and provider, would
still be staffing and running the photo excursions, as well as supplying our auxiliary personnel.”

He studied her; something was definitely changing. “What are you thinking?”

“That—”

Gage clamped a hand over her mouth, his gaze fastening on the door.

She squirmed but followed the direction of his gaze.

The distinct sound of approaching footsteps and jangling keys.

“Kill the computer while I kill the light,” he whispered.

Once they finished, they dove under the desk as the office door opened.

Darcy stared up at Gage wide-eyed as the overhead light switched on.

He lifted a finger to his lips, peering under the desk slit.
Mullins
. He'd recognize those functional shoes anywhere.

“Mullins.” A man rushed in.

Is that Ted's voice
?

“We've got a situation.”

“What now?”

“You better come with me.”

“You'd think I could have one night without a crisis to deal with, but no,” she grumbled, flipping off the lights and following him out the door. “What is it this . . .”

When they no longer heard voices, Darcy exhaled. “That was close.”

Gage helped her to her feet. “Too close.”

“We should follow them.”

“What?”

“I'd like to know what situation Ted was referring to, especially at this time of night.”

It took a little searching, but they eventually located Ted, Mullins, and Clint at the ship's clinic. Apparently there had been some sort of medical emergency.

“I guess Clint wasn't busy with a massage client during this emergency,” Gage said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

“Guess not.”

“Looks like they're going to be there awhile. Do we need anything more from Mullins' office?”

“No, but . . .”

He cringed. “Why don't I like the sound of that?”

“Come on.” She grabbed his hand, leading him down the corridor at a fast clip.

“Where are we going?”

“To break into Ted and Clint's cabin.”