In Dark Water (Rarity Cove Book 3)

by Leslie Tentler

  He sighed softly as seagulls cawed in the air above them. “It’s all right.”

  She seemed to consider that a tentative invitation, because she asked carefully, “How long were you in the Marines?”

  Noah breathed in the scent of brine and looked off across the water before speaking. “I enlisted right after high school. I served four years overseas, then came back here and became a cop. I got my degree in criminal justice at night, and I’d just made my way up to detective when I got called back as a reservist. I was re-deployed to Afghanistan.” He paused, uncomfortable, but felt an inexplicable need to reveal some part of himself to her.

  “I was nearly at the end of a six-month tour when my team was sent out on a reconnaissance mission for another Special Ops force. The helicopter we were in was shot down by the Taliban.” He stared down for a time at his hands. “The pilot was able to crash-land, but we were captured.”

  She touched his arm, and Noah felt his chest tighten. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I seemed rude earlier. You shouldn’t be running alone so late, by the way.”

  “It’s okay. I’m staying in one of the guest bungalows. It’s only about a half-mile down. I’m going to run about a mile past it and then come back. I’ll be home before dark.” She hesitated before adding, “I already went for a run with my sister-in-law this morning, but with everything going on, I’m a little wired.”

  He indicated the earbuds that hung around her neck by a cord, companions to the ever-present wedding rings. “Just don’t use the earbuds, all right? You should always stay aware of your surroundings, even here.”

  The sun’s hue had dimmed to a deep gold as it sank lower in the sky. Their gazes held in the waning light.

  “Be careful tonight?” she asked.

  He felt some bond form between them, tenuous and fragile. “Absolutely.”

  “And I know that you probably consider it unprofessional, but I really would prefer it if you called me Mercer. At least when it’s just the two of us. And I’d really like to call you Noah.”

  He gave a faint nod of acceptance. “Good-night, Mercer.” He took a few steps back up the ramp, then turned to her again. “For what it’s worth, I Googled you, too.”

  Her smile, the first time he had seen it, lightened his heart. He headed up the ramp toward the parking lot, but halfway up, Noah’s head jerked at the muted thwap and splintering of wood. He spun, flinching at another round as it whizzed past his ear. Mercer cried out as the railing exploded beside her. He charged back down.

  “Get down!”

  He tackled her hard, falling on top of her. The handful of others who had been on the boardwalk above them began to scream. Heart hammering against his ribs, Noah rolled Mercer closer to the protective jut of the ramp as more wood exploded, this time just over their heads. Still on top of her, he reached for his gun, peering carefully upward to scan the area. The hair on his nape prickled as he spotted a man in a Halloween mask, his hoodie pulled up, looking over the railing at them. The long barrel of a silencer was visible.

  “Are you hit?” he asked Mercer, his voice strained.

  Her face was ashen and she gasped for air, the wind knocked out of her, but she shook her head.

  “Stay down!” Noah leapt up and began to run, his gun poised in both hands in front of him. The man had been striding down the ramp to close in on them, but upon seeing Noah’s weapon, he turned and sprinted back up, disappearing from view.

  “Police! Stop!” Noah reached the boardwalk in time to see the masked shooter jumping into the back seat of a waiting car at the edge of the parking lot. He ran after it as it screeched away. Chest heaving, perspiring, he dug into his jeans pocket for his cell phone and called the local police, giving his badge number, stating what had happened, and relaying the car’s description and the partial number he had gotten from its tag. Noah cursed inwardly. He hadn’t been able to get off a shot at the gunman or the car since he had feared hitting bystanders who had scattered across the parking lot in an attempt to distance themselves from the fray. Holding his badge in the air to let them know that he wasn’t a threat, Noah then raced back down the ramp to Mercer. She was standing now, appearing dazed, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her breathing. Blood trickled down her left leg. It was scraped from where he had knocked her to the ramp’s rough wood planks, but she didn’t appear to be otherwise injured.

  “They’re gone. You’re okay,” he murmured as she went to him and hid her face against his chest. Her body shook like a cold, soaked kitten. Still gripping his gun, his arms closed protectively around her. Noah swallowed, in disbelief that they had come after her right here on her family’s resort.

  If I hadn’t been here…

  Had the shooter been Draper, or someone else from The Brotherhood? Either way, they knew about her now. Anger radiated inside him.

  Somehow, they had a leak.

  Chapter Nine

  Night had draped a blanket of darkness over the boardwalk and ocean.

  “How do you think they found out about her?” Tyson asked as he and Noah waited for techs to process the scene. Noah had called them over from Charleston since the Rarity Cove Police Department was too small to have its own forensics unit. Mobile lights had been set up around the boardwalk for visibility and hotel guests watched police activity from behind yellow crime scene tape.

  “It could’ve been someone at the Fleur-De-Lis, or even one of our officers working the scene.” Noah’s jaw clenched at the latter possibility. “Regardless, they made a bold move here. They’ll try again if they get the chance.”

  Tyson grunted in agreement. He had driven up from Charleston after hearing about the shooting. The rubberized mask the shooter wore—a macabre, grinning werewolf—had imprinted itself onto Noah’s brain. Despite the lulling sound of waves sweeping ashore below them, he released a tense breath. “She’s only been living here for about a month in one of the bungalows. In the eyes of the hotel, that makes her also a guest and they won’t give out patrons’ room numbers or addresses. They probably had no choice but to surveil the hotel and wait for an opportunity.”

  “You said that she was going for a run. They must’ve gotten impatient. If they’d followed her onto the beach to a more remote location…” Tyson made a popping sound with his mouth. “Game over.”

  Noah felt a dullness inside him. But it would be difficult for a shooter to make an escape in the soft sand if he were spotted. Taking shots at her from the boardwalk while she was on the ramp below had nearly the same advantage as a hunter in a deer stand. Not to mention, the parking lot’s close proximity made for a fast getaway. Noah stared at a patrol car, its lightbar flashing strobe-like into the night. He recalled how Mercer’s body had trembled against his as he held her. It had been clear the shooter hadn’t known that Noah was a cop. He had come down the ramp after her and had retreated only upon seeing Noah’s gun.

  “You’ve been holding out on me.” Tyson’s lowered voice pulled Noah from his thoughts. “You never mentioned that Mercer Leighton was so fine. Now I know why you weren’t bitching about being point of contact.”

  Tyson was only trying to lighten his mood—his partner was one of the happiest married men that he knew—but Noah wasn’t biting. He had introduced Tyson to Mercer in the third-floor hotel room where he had left her with her sister-in-law and a Rarity Cove police officer stationed outside the door. Mark St. Clair was with her now, too. He had been at a South Carolina tourism meeting in Myrtle Beach some two hours away when the shooting occurred, but Noah had seen his Volvo drive up and park under the hotel’s black awning about fifteen minutes ago.

  “You know I’m just riding you, man.” Tyson peered at a uniformed officer who stood nearby, scribbling on a notepad as he talked with a witness. Noah had also talked to bystanders prior to Tyson’s arrival, although technically, it was the Rarity Cove Police’s crime scene, not theirs.

  Tyson scratched at his cheek. “So, you’re telling me the local boys saw nothing on the
drive out here? That peninsula road is the only way in and out. Should’ve run straight into them.”

  “There’s dense brush behind the trees lining the road,” Noah recalled. “They probably drove in and hid until the units went past.”

  “Looks like they got the entire force out for this.” Tyson indicated the four police cars that were on-scene. It was a jab at the department’s small size.

  “What’s the status on the warrants?” Noah asked.

  “Garber and Durand should be at the judge’s house right now. They offered to do it since I thought I should get up here to check on you. I let them know about the attempt on Ms. Leighton’s life. It’s another big checkbox for probable cause, although most of the judges in Charleston County are worked up about the homicides already, considering that Deveau and Townsend were two of their own.” Tyson studied him, his expression serious. “You know you’re damn lucky that the shooter didn’t blow your head off trying to get to her. I’m not in the mood to break in a new partner, Noah.”

  He didn’t respond. Instead, he looked up to the hotel’s third floor, counting the windows to find the room where Mercer was located. The curtains were closed as he had instructed. Noah had done the right thing in not risking bystanders’ lives, he knew that. But if he had shot the gunman and it was Draper, as he suspected it was, all this would be over. There would no longer be a target on Mercer’s back.

  “You’ve had one bitch of a day already,” Tyson pointed out. “You sure you still want to go with us to serve that warrant?”

  Noah burned with the need to take Draper in, as well as anyone else who had been involved in what had happened here. “We’re the leads on this. I should be there.”

  He repressed a sigh as Mark St. Clair appeared at the edge of the boardwalk’s cordoned-off area, his features hard. A uniform stopped him from going farther.

  “That must be the brother,” Tyson said. “You ask me, he looks loaded for bear.”

  “He has good reason.” Steeling himself, Noah called to the officer. “Let him through.”

  I need your word that you’ll protect her.

  He had done that, but he figured the approaching man wouldn’t see it that way.

  “I’ll let you field this one.” Tyson made his escape, walking off in the direction of the forensics techs, who were wrapping up.

  “What happened?” Mark demanded, eyebrows drawn down as he reached Noah. “You said her involvement was being kept confidential.”

  “I said we were trying—”

  “You could’ve gotten her killed tonight, you know that?”

  Noah’s muscles tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he waited until Mark took a calming breath.

  “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. Mercer told me that you shielded her when the shooting started.”

  “How’s she holding up?”

  “She’s scared. We all are.” His mouth slackening in obvious disbelief, he looked around the boardwalk at the police activity.

  “Mr. St. Clair, I want to do everything I can to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again. But the stakes are raised and I need your family’s cooperation.”

  Mark looked at him. Noah continued carefully. “I have a call in to my captain. I want to take your sister into temporary protective custody.”

  “No.” He shook his head vehemently. “My family stays together. I have hotel security. We’ll keep her confined to a room.”

  “Your guards aren’t even armed. They aren’t trained for something like this, not even close,” Noah argued. Although he didn’t say it, the two hotel security guards were the equivalent of mall cops. Indicating the Rarity Cove officers who were working the scene, he lowered his voice. “To be honest with you, neither are they. They have zero experience handling a major crime. I’m not even happy about the uniform who’s inside watching her, but that’s all I’ve got right now. I need your sister back in my jurisdiction. I might be able to convince my department to let us watch over her here on the property, but I don’t recommend it. The man she witnessed at the gallery knows where to find her now. She needs to be somewhere else.”

  When Mark still appeared uncertain, Noah added, “If she stays here, at the least, our presence will be a disruption to your business. At worst, it could put others—your guests and staff, even your wife and children—in danger. It’s a miracle that no one was killed or hurt today. I know you don’t want to take that risk again.”

  Mark dragged a hand through his hair. “My brother’s in Hawaii, filming a movie. I could send her there.”

  “You could. But your brother’s fame doesn’t make for an ideal situation for someone trying to hide. He has photographers trailing his every move.”

  Mark stared off in the direction of the beach, clearly struggling with what to do.

  “You’ll be the one watching over her?” he asked finally.

  “As much as I can. I’m working the investigation, but my partner and I will take an active role in her protection.” He pointed out Tyson, who was now in conversation with one of the local officers on the far side of the parking lot. Noah was committing to a lot, but some part of him needed to keep Mercer close. He had taken responsibility for her safety, had given his word.

  “Tell me about this man,” Mark said heavily. “This killer.”

  “He’s part of a militia group known as The Brotherhood. They’ve been on the news over the years—stand-offs with police, tax evasion, gun running to fund themselves. They’re also on several watch lists for domestic terrorism.”

  “Mercer said his name is Lex Draper.”

  Noah nodded. “We believe the murders at the gallery and another one in Savannah were ordered by the group’s leader. Draper was the gunman. We’re going to attempt to serve an arrest warrant for him tonight. But even if we take him into custody, your sister could still be in danger. Draper has help. Someone was driving his getaway car today. Our understanding is that he has a small group of loyalists within The Brotherhood who want him to be named the next leader. Even if Draper’s arrested, arraigned, and denied bail, it doesn’t mean one of them won’t take up the charge to make sure this never goes to trial.”

  Mark looked briefly up into the dark night, clearly overwhelmed. “I don’t like this.”

  “I don’t, either,” Noah said somberly. “But if I hadn’t been here tonight, your sister would be dead. I gave you my word that I’d keep her safe, but I need you to let me do that.”

  “I-I don’t want to leave.”

  Noah’s throat ached as Mercer looked pleadingly between him, Tyson, and her brother, panic in her eyes. Samantha St. Clair, who Noah had met earlier, was no longer in the room and, based on the rumpled duvet on the large, four-poster bed, it appeared that Mercer had been lying down until the men knocked on the door. A flat-screen television housed inside a mahogany armoire was on, but the sound had been muted.

  “I believe it’s for the best, Mercer,” Mark said gently. “Detective Ford and Detective Beaufain want to take you somewhere that Draper and anyone who’s helping him won’t be able to find you.”

  Mercer pressed her fingers against her closed eyelids.

  Tyson spoke, filling the strained silence. “It’ll be safer for you, Ms. Leighton, and for your family and the hotel guests.”

  He seemed to strike a nerve because she opened her eyes again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I-I haven’t been thinking clearly. Anyone could’ve been hurt or killed today. I can’t stay here and put anyone at risk again.” She looked at Mark. “I can’t even go to Carter. I could put him and his family in danger.”

  She turned her eyes to Noah. “For how long? Please don’t tell me until there’s a trial. That could take months.”

  “I don’t know for how long.” He wanted to be honest with her. “We need to take this one day at a time. My goal for right now is just to get you somewhere besides here.”

  “But you said that you’re going to arrest Draper tonight.”

  “W
e’re going to try,” Tyson interjected. “But Detective Ford and I are concerned that even if he’s arrested, he may have others in his group who could take up the charge—”

  “To make sure that I never get to testify against him,” Mercer said thickly.

  Mark softly clasped her upper arms. “You need to go with them, sweetheart. I can’t let anything happen to you. I wish there was another way, but…”

  They turned at the knock on the door and Noah put a hand on the gun at his hip, then relaxed it when he heard the officer who was stationed outside, letting them know that Samantha St. Clair had returned. Noah unlocked the door and opened it, and she entered with a blond girl and a younger, dark-haired boy in tow. Both of them ran to Mercer.

  “I went down to get the kids from the au pair,” Samantha explained. “They overheard the staff talking about what happened and they were worried about Mercer. I thought it’d be okay to bring them up so they could see that she’s all right.”

  Her expression was apologetic, having apparently sensed that they had walked in on something.

  “I’m glad you did.” Despite everything, Mercer managed to put on a smile and talk with the children. Once she had hugged both and reassured them that she was fine, the girl wandered over to the bed and reached for the television remote, although the little boy remained leaned against Mercer’s thigh. As she ran a hand through his hair, he shyly stared up at Noah.

  “May I turn up the TV, Aunt Mercer?” the girl asked.

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  The sound of a television show blared into the room.

  “I’m sorry. I can tell we shouldn’t be here.” Samantha’s tone was hushed as Noah overheard her speak to her husband. “I didn’t know the detectives were here, and I thought with the police in the lobby and the officer right outside the room it’d be safe to bring them up.”