Stranded (3 page)

Early the next morning Darcy returned to Abby's cabin, rapping impatiently on the door. She gulped down another swallow of her macchiato, trying to shake off the fatigue of a sleepless night, hoping the caffeine would give her the boost she so desperately needed. This had to be the sixth—no, the
seventh
—time she'd tried Abby's cabin, and each time Abby didn't answer, her heart had dropped a little more.

Come on, Abby. Enough is enough
.

It was hardly the first time Abby had missed a meeting or even the first time she'd disappeared for a short while during an undercover assignment. Abby was a bulldog, and when she caught the scent of something, she ran with it—often neglecting to notify others, especially her partner.

Darcy sighed. She wasn't technically Abby's partner, at least not anymore. Hadn't been for three years.

She knocked again, louder this time.
Where are you?

“This would work a lot better if you let me in first.”

Darcy spun around. The woman was young—early twenties, at most—brunette, and wiry.

“You're Abby's roommate?” she guessed.

“Guilty. I'm Pam.” She stepped around Darcy and slid her
key card in the lock. The light flashed green, and the woman stepped inside, flicking on the overhead light.

Without waiting for an invitation, Darcy followed her in. The beds were made—the right one had a series of dresses flung across it, and the left, a purse she assumed was Abby's.

“So . . . what do you want?” Abby's roommate seemed a little annoyed, but Darcy wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

“I was just wondering when you saw Abby last. I'm new to the ship, and we arranged to meet last night, but she never showed.”

“Yesterday morning. I worked until one last night”—she smoothed her hair—“and I'm just getting back. I don't know”—she looked around the room—“whether Abby's been here or not.”

“So . . . have you heard any details about the person that went overboard last night?”

“Nah, the
Bering
is pretty tight-lipped about anything out of the ordinary—anything that might reflect badly on the cruise line.” She sat on her dress-covered bed, clearly impatient. “Is that all? I need to get some sleep before my next shift.”

“Could it have been Abby?”

“No, I think I would have heard if it was her.”

“But I've searched everywhere for her. Where else could she be?”

Pam released an exasperated sigh. “Look, I don't know where Abby is or who went overboard. What's your deal anyway?”

“I'm a journalist.”

“Of course you are.” Pam climbed into bed without moving any of the dresses. “That explains all the questions.”

“I'm here to cover the new hands-on adventures the
Bering
's
offering. I set up an interview with Abby for last night—my first of interviewing everyone involved with the new excursions—but she never showed.”

“Maybe she got a better offer.” Pam grabbed a lotion bottle off the nightstand.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, maybe she met some cute passenger and hooked up.”

“Oh.”
Not Abby
.

“As for who went overboard . . .” Pam squirted the white liquid onto her palm and began working it through her fingers. “I wouldn't worry too much about it. Captain said they'd been rescued and taken to the local hospital. Now, if you'll excuse me . . .” She set the lotion back on the nightstand and clicked off the bedside lamp.

“Right.”

In the faint glow of the light over the door, Darcy glanced at Abby's purse on her bed and then to Pam, who'd rolled over with her back to her. Leaning over, Darcy snatched Abby's purse and tucked it under her arm. “Sorry to bother you.” Pam didn't stir. “I'll just see myself out.”

Reentering her room, Darcy flipped the overhead switch and plopped on the bed, trying to quell the butterflies darting about her belly.
She's probably just stumbled onto a new lead and lost track of time . . . maybe trying to track down whoever fell overboard.

Taking a deep breath, she dumped the contents of Abby's purse on the bed and sorted through it. A tube of lip gloss, a couple pens, a handful of blank index cards, contact drops . . . Nothing out of the ordinary. She shoved it all back in the purse and set the canvas bag aside.

An hour later, Darcy waited for the
Bering
to lower its gangplank and allow cruise passengers off into the port town of Yancey. She had been up all night but couldn't even think of sleeping now, and she couldn't just sit around praying Abby showed. She had to do
something
.

With the excursion meeting still several hours away, she headed into Yancey under the guise of reporting on one of the
Bering
's port stops. Fortunately, having spent a month there last winter, she could easily come up with a fluff piece to suit Destiny Cruise Line's publicity team without having to actually put any research into it. Instead, she'd pay a visit to a friend.

During her time in Yancey, she'd come to love the town—and one family in particular—quite deeply. She'd hoped to return, but she'd envisioned it being under much different circumstances. Foolishly, she'd dreamt it would be at Gage's invitation, but after five months and still no word from him, she'd obviously misread his signals. Though, she supposed, she was partially to blame.

She
could have called, but she hadn't wanted to press. Gage needed space, needed time to heal from old wounds that were still very raw. His silence had left her lonely and restless, and very much ready for a change when Abby's call for assistance had come.

Darcy hurried up the hill from the marina into town. It looked so different in May than it had in December. The snow was gone, and beautiful red and yellow tulips dotted the planting beds leading up the main walk. She headed straight for the sheriff's station, fighting the longing to at least duck into the McKennas' shop. How could she come to Yancey and not see Gage?

Her gaze fixed on their shop sign in the distance—
Last
Frontier Adventures
scrolled in bold blue letters. Her resolve wavered as a wealth of memories came flooding back—one in particular tugging at her heart: Gage McKenna bent over his son's grave. Such a strong man, broken by the tragic loss of a child. She'd wanted nothing more than to race to him and shelter him in her arms, but he'd have balked at her sympathy, at her attempts to comfort him. He didn't want comforting. He wanted restitution.

So much anger and bitterness in such a tender heart—it broke her's. If only she had the power to fix things, to help Gage see how much God loved him. But God was the last “person” Gage wanted to discuss, and she was the last person he'd accept comfort from.

Taken aback by the powerful anguish that thoughts of Gage McKenna still dredged up in her heart, she stepped into the sheriff's station praying Deputy Landon Grainger was in.

“Are you sure you don't want one of us to go with you?” Piper asked, not relinquishing hold of Gage's duffel just yet.

They stood huddled on the front porch of his cabin, his sisters hemming and hawing over what he'd packed or possibly forgotten.

“Piper, I'm not four. I can handle this.” He tugged his duffel back.

“Of course you can.” She smiled. “I just thought you might like . . .”

He cocked his head with a knowing grin. “Someone watching over me?” He slipped the duffel strap over his shoulder.

“Someone to help.” She crossed her arms, leaning against the porch rail as the sun rose higher in the sky.

“You will be helping every time we dock in port.” It would only be a day before he'd see them again.

“He's a big boy,” Kayden said, hopping onto the rail. “He can handle this.”

“I know.” Piper nibbled her bottom lip.

She did
know
. That was the problem. She saw things, heard things beyond the spoken. Not in any magical sort of way. She could simply read people, knew when they were hurting. She claimed it was a gift from God, but he preferred to view it as an annoyance—especially when it centered on him. Piper knew Darcy had gotten to him, and it was clear she didn't like his response, his running from his feelings. But there was nothing else to be done. Piper would eventually understand that or she'd at least have to learn to live with it—because, as tantalizing as the prospect might appear during his greatest moments of weakness, nothing would be happening between him and Darcy St. James.

“Any word on the missing teen?”

Kayden shook her head. “Cole and Jake are out there with a full team of volunteers, and a swift-water-rescue team from Kodiak arrived early this morning to lend a hand.”

Gage shook his head, knowing they were in for a long and most likely disappointing day.

“Are
you
guys all set?” he asked, shifting the conversation to the upcoming cruise. “Land part of the package ready to go?”

“Jake says we're good to go,” Kayden said with the trace of indifference that lingered whenever she spoke of Jake.

“Good, then I know it'll be done right.” It was true, and it allowed him a jab at his sister.

“Very funny. We both know I'm in charge of details,” she said.

And completely skeptical about Jake's ability, though the
man had never proven anything less than stellar in his work since coming on board with LFA nearly three years ago.

“Trust me, we all know what a
boss
you are.” Piper nudged her sister with a smirk.

“Just like we all know what a mom you are.” Kayden nudged back.

“I just want to make sure everyone is taken care of,” Piper huffed.

“So do I,” Kayden said. “Just in a different way.”

“You're both mother hens, and I'm fleeing the coop.” Gage bounded down the porch steps with a grin.

“Just remember if it hadn't been for these mother hens, you'd have been without socks for the duration of the cruise,” Kayden called after him.

He tried to muster a retort, but she was right. It was a highly annoying habit.

“Darcy St. James, is that you?”

The sound of Landon's voice filled her with relief. She turned and smiled at the deputy—tall, chestnut brown hair, and every bit as ruggedly handsome as she remembered.

“What are you doing back in this neck of the woods?”

“Another investigation.”

“Here I was hoping you'd come back to visit.”

“I wish that were the case.”

“Come on into my office.” He signaled for her to follow. Deputy Earl Hansen eyed her from the front desk, clearly trying to place where he recognized her from.

She followed Landon down the hall to his office on the left. He shut the door after them and gestured to the open chair. “Take a seat.”

“Thanks.” She sat as Landon stepped around the black metal desk and sank into his swivel chair.

“How can I help you?”

She quickly brought him up to speed. “It's probably nothing. The ship is large—well, fairly large—and Abby . . . When her scent fixes on something . . . It's just the timing of a woman going overboard and my not being able to find Abby . . .” She was rambling. She always rambled when nervous.

Landon leaned forward. “What cruise ship did you say?”

“The
Bering
. Why?”

He sat back, shaking his head with a grin. “You're not going to believe this, but Gage is starting work on the
Bering
today.”

“What?” Gage McKenna on the same cruise ship as her?

“Kayden got this idea a couple seasons back about staffing an excursion leader on the ship, so once they dock they can get on with the excursion quicker. The prep, safety instructions, and paperwork are all done on the ship ahead of time.”