The Killing Tide

by Dani Pettrey

  “I’m so sorry,” Tess said. “I had no idea.”

  “No one did.” Val shrugged a shoulder. “And I wasn’t saying anything.”

  “Why not?” Gabby asked, not trying to be rude but truly curious. Had Dennis held something over Val to keep her quiet? Or was he just that scary? Maybe she thought she had no place else to go.

  Gabby looked back at the trailer . . . thankful Val had gotten out alive. Many women didn’t.

  Val leaned in, lowering her voice. “Kenny gets enraged if he hears Dennis’s name. Not with me,” she clarified. “With Dennis.”

  “Understandable,” Tess said.

  “It was all I could do to keep Kenny from killing him when I finally told him.”

  Gabby understood his anger.

  “Here’s the thing. Dennis knew how to hurt me in a way that didn’t readily show. It’s my fault for not leaving sooner, but . . .” She glanced down, spinning the silver knotted ring on her index finger. “My old man was a mean drunk too. It was all I knew—until I met a good man, that is.”

  As if knowing he was being discussed, Kenny popped his head out of the trailer, his protective gaze fixing on Val. “Everything okay?”

  Val nodded. “Just girl talk, babe.”

  “That’s my cue to leave.” He gave a friendly wave and let the storm door shut.

  “Kenny’s a big teddy bear,” Val said with the smile of a sixteen-year-old smitten with her first big crush.

  Tess squeezed Val’s hand. “I’m happy you escaped Dennis.”

  “Thanks. Me too.”

  Tess raked a hand through her long, layered blond hair. “I’m still so sorry that I missed what you were going through. Maybe if I’d paid more attention . . .”

  “Trust me. No one had a clue. We were good at hiding it—both my scars and his angry outbursts. I thought I was stuck in that life forever, but then I met Kenny at the gym.” She smiled. “He’s a keeper.”

  “I’m glad you found someone you can trust,” Tess said. “But I can’t help but wonder . . . I mean, now that you are out . . . why not file charges against Dennis?”

  Gabby was thinking the exact same thing.

  Val looked up, nervousness flickering over her up-until-now calm demeanor. “I just wanted out. Kenny had a short talk with Dennis, and he agreed to let me go. That’s all I wanted. Out.”

  Gabby studied Val, curious how she would have handled the same situation. Her instincts said she’d have gone to the cops the first time he’d touched her. At least that’s what she hoped she’d have done. Though she’d learned long ago that it was easy to judge, but until you were in someone else’s place, you never knew for certain. Her heart ached for the life Val had endured until Kenny, but she was glad she’d found a kind, protective man.

  She shifted her attention back to Val and realized she and Tess had still been chatting while she’d been ruminating in her thoughts.

  “We were hoping we could ask you some questions,” Tess said. “I’m just trying to find out what happened to Will.”

  Val’s eyes softened. “I’m so sorry about Will, honey.” Her gaze slipped to Tess’s very pregnant belly.

  Tess bit her quivering lip. “Me too.”

  “Not sure I can be of much help since I’m not part of that life anymore, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  Not part of what life? Gabby wondered. Did she just mean she no longer lived with Dennis or that she didn’t participate in the Guard life? Or was she saying she’d been part of something more? Something that had ended with Will’s murder?

  “Anything you can share might be helpful,” Tess said, shifting her gaze to Gabby. “She’s an investigative reporter and is helping me find out what happened to Will.”

  “A reporter?” Val’s jaw tensed.

  “Don’t worry,” Gabby assured her. “Anything you say is off the record.”

  The tightness in Val’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay. Ask away.”

  “Will told Tess that he was into something too deep,” Gabby began.

  “Like what?” Val asked.

  “I have no idea,” Tess said. “It floored me when he said he was into something questionable. I mean, he’d been stressed for a while. Money was tight, and with Will Jr. on the way . . .”

  Tess rubbed her belly, and she took a deep breath as tears welled in her eyes. “I told him I could get a part-time job and find a friend to watch the baby when he came, but Will knew how badly I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. He told me it’d be okay, that he’d take care of things. And then a couple days later, it seemed like everything was all right. He was relaxed and happy for about a month.” Her hands knotted into fists. “Then he got really stressed again.”

  “Worrying about money again?” Gabby asked, not having heard this part yet.

  Tess shook her head. “No. It was different, like something heavier was weighing on him. I kept asking him what was wrong. Then right before he left for the fishing trip, he told me that he’d gotten in too deep.” She shifted. “I asked him what he was talking about, what he’d gotten too deep into, but he wouldn’t go into specifics.” Tears streaked down her face. “I think he was trying to safeguard me by not sharing, you know?”

  “Of course he was, honey,” Val said. “Will always looked after you.”

  Tess nodded, tears rolling off her chin. “Right before he left, he also told me he was getting out of whatever he’d gotten himself into.” Her voice cracked. “Next morning, he was found murdered on Dennis’s boat.”

  “We were wondering . . .” Gabby said, “if perhaps Dennis knew what Will was involved in, or if . . . ?”

  “Dennis was involved?” Val said.

  “Yeah.” Gabby nodded.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me at all,” Val said, her hands fluttering about as she spoke. “In fact . . .” Val leaned closer across the table. “I’d bet Dennis was the one who got Will involved in the first place.”

  “Really?” Gabby asked. Now they were getting somewhere.

  “Pish,” she said. “Dennis was always into something.”

  “Do you know any specifics?” Gabby prayed for a concrete lead.

  “Nah, he never shared anything with me, but I ain’t stupid. I could tell when he was running a scam.”

  “A scam, huh?”

  “I’d wager money on it.”

  Gabby fished the red-and-white access tag from her purse. “Any idea what this is? We found it in Will’s truck.”

  Val studied it, then shook her head. “Sorry. Never seen it.”

  Which brought Gabby to the big question. “I’m guessing your name is still on the house and car?” she asked, clearly pressing her luck with such a personal question.

  “Ye . . . ah.” Val’s eyes narrowed. “Dennis believed that I’d come running back at some point. That’s never gonna happen, but I didn’t know what he’d do if I filed first.”

  “I don’t suppose you still have a key to the place?” Now she was beyond pressing her luck, but Val clearly had no love lost for Dennis. If she might be of help in bringing him down, Gabby felt Val would jump on the chance.

  “No,” she said, “but he keeps a key in a lockbox on the doorframe—inside the screen door.”

  “Do you remember the code?” Assuming it was still the same.

  “Last code he used was 1942—the year his dad was born, but why are you asking about the house and Dennis’s car?”

  Here went nothing. “Any chance we could have your permission to search them?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “What do I care?”

  Finn pulled into Val Fletcher’s driveway and banged the steering wheel at finding Will’s truck not present. He’d asked the guard at the base’s exit gate who he’d seen leaving at the approximate time of Gabby’s exit, and the guard said he’d seen Will’s truck drive on and then quickly off base. Tess was driving and a pretty brunette was with her.

  So Gabby was off with Tess, which equaled nothing good.

  He looked at the blu
e Maxima in the driveway, praying it belonged to Val and that she had some idea where Gabby and Tess had gone.

  At his knock, a woman opened the screen door, eyeing him warily.

  “Hi.” He flashed his badge. “I’m Finn Walker with CGIS.”

  “I heard what happened with Will and Dennis. You the one looking into it with Gabby and Tess?”

  So they had been here.

  “Yes,” he said, thinking that bending the truth might gain her cooperation more readily than explaining that Gabby and Tess were not supposed to be meddling in the investigation, period.

  Val scrutinized him.

  “Please. It’s very important I find them. Their lives could be in danger.”

  Val’s eyes widened, but surprisingly, she didn’t ask for details. “They went to Dennis’s place.”

  Great. Now they were breaking and entering.

  “After I told them my name is still on the house and car, they got really excited and hightailed it out of here.”

  Smart, ladies. Though he’d still need to throttle Gabby for sneaking out of the station.

  “Thanks so much,” he said, rushing back down the porch steps, praying with all his might that they were safe. He’d been doing a lot more praying lately. Praying for Gabby and her safety.

  He climbed into his car and released a shaky exhale. The woman worried him to no end.

  thirty-five

  Rissi finally got the go-ahead to talk to Genevieve Layton in the hospital room where she’d be spending the night.

  She knocked on the door of Room 341.

  “Yes?” Genevieve called.

  Rissi opened the door and popped her head in. “Hello, Dr. Layton. Is it okay if I ask you some questions?”

  “Yes, but please, call me Genevieve,” she said, sitting up in bed. She tucked her hospital gown beneath her legs. “I don’t know why they insisted on my wearing this lovely frock.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not injured or sick—at least not physically.”

  Rissi looked to the reclining mint green armchair. “Do you mind if I sit?”

  “Please.” She gestured to the chair. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I have so much to tell you, and I didn’t want to say anything about this in front of the crew. Didn’t want them trying to explain it away or blame John, like they did with the dive.”

  Rissi scooted to the edge of her seat.

  Please, Father, help me get to the bottom of this.

  The last thing she wanted was to discover that Mo or his crew was responsible in any way for John Layton’s death. But she wanted the truth wherever it led. “Can I get you anything? Water, perhaps?”

  “I have a hot cup of tea on the way, but thank you.” Genevieve’s eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy, a slight daze lurking there. No doubt from the calming medicine she’d been given.

  “All right,” Rissi said. “How about you tell me everything you remember about the day—starting with when you arrived at the marina this morning?”

  Genevieve swiped her fingers across her cheek, wiping a tear away as she licked her swollen bottom lip. She’d spent the majority of the return trip nibbling it.

  “John . . .” She cleared her throat. “We arrived at the marina at six, as instructed. Since we’d gone over all the instructions and questions at an orientation prep class the afternoon before, we headed straight onto the boat. Once everyone finally arrived, we cast off. That was right around six thirty. Why the Thompsons kept us all waiting a half hour, I don’t know. I find that sort of behavior rude, and so does . . .” She caught herself but couldn’t prevent the fresh tears from tumbling down her cheeks. “John,” she finally squeaked out.

  Rissi handed her a box of Kleenex from the side table. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” She waited as the woman sobbed, giving her the time she needed. “Would you like me to step out and give you some privacy?” she asked.

  Genevieve pulled a Kleenex from the box, swiped her eyes, and blew her nose. Tossing it in the round metal trash can in the corner of the room, she grabbed another. “No. It’s fine. Thank you for asking, but I want to tell you what I know about what happened. Though I wish I knew more.”

  Rissi frowned. “What don’t you know?”

  “What happened on the dive.”

  “I thought he ascended too fast?”

  “Yes, that’s what they claim, but I wish I knew why.”

  What was she getting at? “It’s not uncommon for people to panic during a wreck dive, especially if they’re new to it.”

  “It was his second qualifying dive.” Genevieve sniffed.

  So he was still working on his wreck-diving qualification, which made the likelihood of his freaking out far higher than that of a well-established wreck diver.

  “It’s not uncommon for people to panic from the claustrophobic nature of swimming in such tight quarters.”

  She thought of her experience exploring the same wreck. The St. Marie, an eighteenth-century Spanish galleon, had been found and subsequently looted a handful of years ago, before the discovery became public knowledge. They’d never found the person or persons responsible, but it was a very tight dive. Even she’d gotten claustrophobic. Had Noah’s soothing presence not been with her, she could have very easily panicked.

  “John didn’t get claustrophobic, and yes, he was a novice, but he loved wreck diving.”

  “Then, any idea why he panicked and bolted to the top?”

  “All I can think is that something made him fear for his life.”

  That seemed a little extreme. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because of what John said when he came back on the boat. He was upset. . . .”

  “I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, Genevieve. How about we go back to the beginning? You made it to the dive site, and . . .”

  “My dive was an easy thirty-foot dive with the other people on board. John was the only one working on his wreck certification. He and Marvin were still getting ready when we entered the water.”

  “So Marv went down with John?” The way Genevieve had attacked Mo, Rissi assumed that he had been the one diving with John.

  “Yes.” Genevieve nodded.

  “Then why blame Mo?”

  “Because it’s his charter. Marvin is his employee, and Mo’s the one who’d taught John to wreck dive. He’s the one ultimately responsible for every passenger, and that includes John. Either he didn’t teach him right, sent John too deep and in too complicated a wreck, or his employee wasn’t a good enough diver to take him. And he’s the one claiming John lost his balance and hit his head.”

  “But you don’t believe that?”

  “No.” Genevieve shook her head.

  Rissi needed to run a timeline, beginning to end, so she could see the whole picture. “Let’s get back to Marv taking John to dive.”

  “Right. I surfaced from my dive and saw the two jumping flippers first off Calliope’s aft deck.”

  “And then?”

  “Our group—including Mo and Braxton, who’d accompanied us and instructed our dive—headed back on board. We all went down to change. When I returned on deck, Braxton was carrying a tray of fresh fruit and a variety of snacks over to us. I joined the group at the stern, but I had an anxious stomach.”

  “From your dive?”

  “No. I just felt nervous for John. It was a big dive for him, and . . . I don’t know. I was worried about him. He hadn’t quite been himself lately.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “He was stressed.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “I think work has been extra busy. Plus we totaled our car last month, and the insurance has been a nightmare to deal with. Just annoyances, really. But when we won the trip, I thought it was the perfect opportunity for us to get away from it all for a while.”

  Rissi’s eyebrows pinched. “You won the trip?”

  “Yes. Mo said he puts the names of all his charter custo
mers in a bag, and twice a year he chooses a name to win a follow-up dive or cruise or whatever you want out of his services.”

  “Wow. That’s nice.” She wouldn’t mind winning one of those.

  “It was. . . .” Genevieve swallowed. “Until today.”

  “How long before John returned?”

  “Maybe a half hour.”

  “What happened upon his return?”

  “He surfaced alone, and I asked him where Marvin was. He mumbled something I couldn’t understand. I could tell by the edge in his voice that something was wrong.”

  “But nothing to indicate what it was?”

  “No.”

  “He yanked off his fins and dropped them on the deck. Braxton helped remove his tanks, and then he ripped off his mask. He looked pale, peaked. He said he needed to head to the bathroom. I hurried after him, catching him on the galley stairs, and asked what had happened.”

  “He said something had gone very wrong. They were in the wreck and . . .”

  “And?” Rissi again scooted to the edge of her seat, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet.

  “He cut off his words there. Told me to go above deck and stay with the group. ‘No matter what, stay with the group,’ he said.”

  “Did you ask him why?”

  “I didn’t have a chance. He ducked into the bathroom with panicked eyes, said ‘I love you,’ and shut the door.” Tears spilled down her eyes. “I knocked, but he continued insisting I go up and stay with the group.” She shook her head. “Something was obviously very wrong, but I had no idea what, so I did as he said. Marvin was back and talking with Mo in hushed tones at the stern.”

  “Any chance you overheard what they were saying?”

  She shook her head. “I wish I had. Maybe then I’d know what happened down there.”

  “Did you ask Marv about it?”

  “No. John told me to stay with the group, so I did. I assumed he’d be up soon, so I could ask him, but . . . he never came up.”

  Rissi reached out and clutched Genevieve’s cold hand. “Do you need an extra blanket?”

  “No.”

  “Knock, knock,” a woman said from the doorway.

  “Come in,” Genevieve said.