In Dark Water (Rarity Cove Book 3)

by Leslie Tentler

  Mercer anxiously scraped a hand through her hair, regretting that she had asked the question. She reminded herself that Noah was wounded. He was also being interrogated about what had happened at the diner in St. Matthews and at the fishing cabin. The authorities needed to know the details leading up to the deaths of all those men. She understood that he had a lot of work ahead of him to close the investigation. For now, she would go with Carter and Mark. If Noah wanted to see her, talk to her, then he would.

  “Merce?”

  She realized that Carter had been speaking to her, but she hadn’t been listening. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she repeated, although just like the first time she’d said it, she wasn’t completely certain that she meant it.

  Medical personnel and hospital visitors had begun to gather nearby. Based on their excited demeanor, it was clear they hoped to meet Carter as well as take selfies with him since most of them held their cell phones. Still, they were waiting at a respectful distance and hadn’t interrupted their reunion.

  “Go be nice to your fans, all right? Mark just came in.”

  Carter glanced to the crowd. With a soft sigh of resignation, he affectionately clasped Mercer’s shoulder before heading off. A moment later, she found herself in Mark’s embrace.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said once he released her.

  With a weak smile, Mercer tucked her hair self-consciously behind one ear, aware of her disheveled appearance. “More like a sight that would hurt your eyes.”

  “Never,” Mark said. “Let’s get you to a seat.”

  They stepped back to the bench where she had been waiting earlier. Mercer placed the tote bag that Carter had given her on the tiled floor and sat. Behind them, Carter talked with the crowd as he posed for cell phone cameras and signed autographs. Mark sat down beside her. “Can I get you coffee? Something to eat?”

  She shook her head. “That’s my coffee on the table, and thanks, but I don’t think I’m capable of eating just yet.”

  His features hard, he looked around. Like Carter, he asked, “Where’s Detective Ford?”

  She placed a hand on Mark’s knee for emphasis. “None of what happened is his fault, Mark. He kept me safe just like he promised he would. He saved my life more than once through all this.” She felt a lump form in her throat. “If I’d been with anyone else, I don’t think I’d be here talking to you right now.”

  “What happened out there?”

  She couldn’t help it. Her eyes misted. When Mercer had called her family, she hadn’t given much detail, mostly telling them that she was safe, where they could find her and that Lex Draper was dead. Apparently aware of her duress, Mark put his arm around her and pulled her against him. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about any of this right now. I just want to get you back home. Anders called on the way up. They’re going to release Mom sometime later today.”

  Mercer’s heart lifted. “That’s wonderful news.”

  “She knows you’re safe now.” Pausing, Mark swallowed as he looked at her. “I’d been trying to brace myself for the worst news about you, but I just couldn’t do it. I can’t imagine our family without you. You’re its heart, you know.”

  Carter returned, his face serious upon seeing Mercer wiping at her eyes.

  “Let’s get her out of here,” he said to Mark.

  Standing, Mercer picked up the tote bag. “I just need to go change first…”

  She stopped speaking, her stomach doing a small flip as Noah appeared from the corridor. He wore a clean shirt and sneakers with his jeans, his left arm in the sling. The cut on his temple had been re-bandaged, as well. He still appeared pale, however. She wondered where the shirt and shoes had come from. As he approached, Mercer worried that Mark and Carter would take him to task, but to her relief Mark stepped forward and shook Noah’s unencumbered hand.

  “Thank you for getting her back to us, Detective Ford,” he said.

  “I’m sorry to have put all of you through hell these last few days, Mercer included.”

  Carter shook Noah’s hand next. “Thank you, Detective. I’m Mercer’s brother—”

  “I know who you are, Mr. St. Clair.” Noah glanced at the crowd of medical personnel and others who were still gawking. “I’m pretty sure the entire world does.”

  Carter lowered his voice. “There’re times like this that fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And please, call me Carter.”

  “I think it’s time you started calling me Mark, too,” Mark added.

  “May I have a word alone with Mercer?” Noah asked. “It’ll only take a minute. I know you’re anxious to get her back home.”

  Her heart beat harder. Mercer turned to her brothers. “Why don’t you wait for me outside? I’ll come out to the car after I’ve changed.”

  Mark and Carter headed toward the automatic, glass doors. Through them, Mercer was aware that sunlight had begun to break through the clouds that had brought last night’s heavy rainfall. Before her brothers could exit, Carter was once again stopped by more fans. Apparently, word had spread about his being here.

  “That must get old.” Noah was looking at the commotion. But Mercer didn’t want to waste what little time they had talking about Carter. She could tell by how Noah was dressed that he was ignoring the doctor who had wanted to admit him. Her voice held censure.

  “Since you’re not in a wheelchair and a hospital gown, I’m assuming that you’re going against medical advice.”

  “I’m fine—”

  “You’re not fine.” She frowned at him. “You signed yourself out, just like I was afraid of.”

  He sighed softly. “There’re some things I have to take care of that can’t wait. For one, I need to talk to the arrestee from the lake property—he’s upstairs now. I’m just waiting for them to run an MRI on him. After that, I’m catching a ride with Remy and Tom back to Charleston.”

  Mercer fought the urge to argue. Without pain medication, she suspected that Noah was hurting. She noticed that he held his arm in the sling carefully. “Where’d you get the shoes and shirt?”

  “A deputy offered them to me. We wear about the same size. He had his dry cleaning and his gym bag in the trunk of his cruiser and took mercy on me. I’ll get them back to him.”

  Mercer indicated the tote bag she held. “I have fresh clothes, too. Mark and Carter brought them.” Putting the bag down again, she shrugged out of the raincoat. “Can you give this back to Tom for me?”

  Noah accepted the garment. They both took a step back so that two paramedics pushing a gurney with an elderly woman on it could roll past.

  “It looks like The Brotherhood’s taken another hit,” Noah said. “I checked my messages at the precinct and had one from the federal prison in Estill. Orion Scott had a stroke last night. A bad one. The scans indicate he’s brain-dead. They’re preparing to take him off life support.”

  They stood there as more people passed by, doctors in white coats and scrubs-clad nurses.

  “Is that why you wanted to talk to me?” Mercer asked thickly. “To let me know that the man responsible for starting all this is getting what he deserves?”

  “I wanted to make sure you’re all right.” Noah laid the raincoat on a nearby chair and stepped closer, his voice low. “You’ve been through a lot, Mercer.”

  She felt a shimmer of electricity as he took her fingers in his and lightly squeezed them before letting go. It was a discreet gesture, one that wouldn’t be overly noticeable to the others around them. Mercer glanced over her shoulder. Carter was still occupied with fans and Mark was in conversation with someone wearing a white lab coat.

  “I’m sorry that the deputy walked in on us earlier,” Noah said. “We do need to talk, but now isn’t the time.”

  Mercer could only nod as her eyes searched his. Then she lowered her gaze. Uncertainty once again weighted her chest.

  He took a step bac
k. “Enjoy being with your family. I know how relieved they are.”

  “Have you called Corinne yet?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Oh…” Noah dug into his jeans pocket. “With everything going on, I almost forgot.”

  A soft gasp escaped her as he withdrew the chain that held her wedding rings.

  “I took them off the table at the cabin before we went into the crawl space.” Noah pooled the delicate chain in her palm.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, her heart pinching. She was relieved to have the rings returned to her. But it also felt a little as though he were releasing her back to her world as it had been before he had come into it. Reminding herself that she wouldn’t push for anything, she blinked and swallowed hard.

  “Please take care, Noah,” she urged softly. “You should be in a hospital bed right now. I know you think that you’re invincible, but you’re not.”

  As they stared at one another, Noah seemed to falter in the silence that engulfed them. Then, picking up the raincoat, he indicated the nearby restrooms. “Take care, too, Mercer. You should get changed. Your family’s waiting. I’ll be in touch.”

  She watched numbly as he turned and went down the corridor.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Noah nodded to the two armed deputies as he left the hospital room, albeit without any new information. The arrestee—the man he had knocked out at the toolshed—had been uncooperative, refusing to divulge anything, including how his group had discovered where he and Mercer were hiding. The man’s responses to questioning, in fact, had been a repeated fuck you, pig. Despite his own wound, Noah might have had a more physical response to that if not for the medical staff hovering nearby.

  He had, however, taken pleasure in letting the man know that he was going away for a long time. In addition to his role in Draper’s plot, he was wanted on two warrants. The deputies who were stationed there to guard him would be taking him directly to booking as soon as the hospital released him.

  “You look like something the cat dragged in—after he played with it,” Remy commented when Noah stepped off the elevator and into the hospital’s main lobby.

  “You sure you don’t want to take the doc’s advice and stay here?” Eyeing Noah worriedly, Tom folded the raincoat that had been returned to him earlier over one arm. “A day of enforced rest would do you some good.”

  “I need to go.” Noah had a filled prescription for painkillers in a paper bag from the hospital pharmacy. But just as he had explained to Mercer, there were things he needed to take care of before he allowed himself to sink into a fog.

  Thinking of Mercer, Noah felt uncertainty tug at him.

  There was no doubt that he had feelings for her, that he was even probably in love with her, but he had been reminded once again that morning that Mercer was indeed a St. Clair. Just a short time ago, Noah had stood in the waiting area with one of South Carolina’s wealthiest families, one of them an A-list, Hollywood star. While being treated in the ER, Noah had even heard one of the physicians commenting that he had gone to medical school on a scholarship that the family provided in Harrison St. Clair’s memory.

  As Noah traveled with Remy and Tom through the lobby toward the parking lot, he heard someone call his name. He turned to see a tall, angular male with a badge and gun on his hip traveling toward him. Even from a distance, Noah recognized the badge as belonging to the U.S. Marshals Service.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” Noah said to Tom and Remy. He tossed the pharmacy bag to Remy and the two men continued on without him, verbally sparring with one another as they went through the glass doors and outside.

  “I figured it was you because of the sling,” the marshal said when he reached Noah. “That and you have a cop’s look about you. I received a report on what happened out at that cabin from the local authorities. How’re you feeling, Detective Ford?”

  “I’ll live.”

  “I hear that.” The man had thinning, ash-blond hair and appeared to be in his early forties. “I’m Jeff Emerson with the U.S. Marshals Service.”

  “Fool me once,” Noah deadpanned.

  “I can assure you that you’ve got the real deal this time.” He reached into his back pocket to produce his shield, but Noah halted him. There was no longer a need for imposters.

  “That’s all right, Marshal. I’ll take your word for it. How can I help you?”

  “I just wanted to introduce myself and say hello, for now. I will have questions for you about what happened at the diner in St. Matthews in particular, but that can wait until you’re feeling better. I’m here now to speak to the arrestee upstairs.”

  The clink of coins being put into a vending machine and the corresponding clunk of a soda can as it dropped down could be heard from a nearby alcove. “Good luck,” Noah said. “I didn’t get anything out of him. And from what I hear, he has a lawyer on the way. Not that it’ll do him much good considering his record.”

  “Let’s hope that’s the case. You should know that we conducted a raid on The Brotherhood’s compound yesterday.”

  “That’ll make two within the last two weeks,” Noah told him. “We conducted one ourselves in an unsuccessful attempt to find Lex Draper.”

  “At least you got your man last night.”

  Noah asked the question that was on his mind. “What about the marshals those men at the diner were impersonating? Did you find them?”

  Emerson’s features hardened. “They’re both dead. We’re still trying to piece things together. They were supposed to meet up in the field this past Thursday to travel to St. Matthews to rendezvous with you and Detective Beaufain. Both died in their homes from carbon monoxide poisoning in the early morning hours.”

  The news felt like a gut-punch to Noah. “Did they both live alone?”

  “Yes, thank God. Or else we could be talking about entire families right now.” Emerson glanced to a man using a hand sanitizer stand that stood just inside the hospital doors before continuing. “Our theory is that once our men were incapacitated by the carbon monoxide, Draper and his group got into the homes—probably wearing gas masks—and stole the badges and IDs. They replaced the ID photos with those of the imposters. I’ve seen the doctored IDs. Someone did a professional job on them, right down to the authentication seal across the photos. You shouldn’t worry that you missed some sign, Detective.”

  Noah told him what had eventually given the imposters away—the money clip that bore a similar design as the ring Draper had worn at the art gallery.

  His stance wide, Emerson crossed his arms over his chest. “What we want to know is how the group knew the specifics—the where and when of the rendezvous point, who the assigned marshals were and their street addresses.”

  “I want to know the same thing. I’m still working the investigation from our end in Charleston. I would appreciate any sharing of intelligence.”

  Emerson nodded. “Of course.”

  “Draper was able to learn the identity of my eyewitness to a shooting that kicked all this off.” Noah felt the need to be up front. “I thought then that there might be a leak within the Charleston Police Department.”

  “So, you think someone on your own force might’ve fed the group information?” Emerson lifted an eyebrow.

  “I’m just saying that it’s possible.” Noah adjusted his sling, his upper arm throbbing. “It’s just a theory at this point. I have no proof. But if I’m right, someone on our side wouldn’t know where your men lived. That information would be classified to the U.S. Marshals Service.”

  “What’re you saying, Detective?”

  “I’m saying there might be a leak within your organization, too. If Draper could get to someone on the Charleston PD, he could get to one of yours.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement.” Emerson pursed his lips together before speaking again. “You should know that within our ranks you’re considered a hero for taking out those bastards at the diner. We lost two good men last week. It almost makes me regret th
at we agreed to get involved and bring Ms. Leighton into the program. We’re backlogged and have a waiting list, but we jumped her ahead.”

  Noah looked at him. “You agreed to take her in?”

  “Your captain requested it. My understanding is that some favors were called in to move her up.” Emerson took a step back. “It was nice to meet you, Detective Ford. You did a hell of a job out there keeping your witness alive. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m hoping to have a chat with this asshole upstairs before the attorney shows up to shut things down. By the way, do you know what happens to a lawyer when you give him Viagra?”

  “No,” Noah said.

  “He gets taller.” With a wry smile, Emerson turned and walked to the elevator bay. Noah headed outside, his mind grappling with what he had been told. Captain Bell had clearly stated that the order to hand Mercer over to the Marshals Service had come from outside their department. Noah had just walked through the automated doors and outside when the cell phone he carried in his back pocket burst into a popular country music song. The phone was Remy’s—Noah hadn’t yet returned it. He reached for the device and peered at its screen. His heart felt a bit lighter as he saw the incoming number. Noah answered.

  “Heard you burned down my cabin, Noah.” Tyson sounded weak, but his tone was still familiarly acerbic.

  Standing in the parking lot, Noah blew out a breath. “Yeah. About that…”

  “You know I’m just messin’ with you. It ain’t on you. I know who I have to thank for that.” Tyson’s voice was rough and raspy, probably due to medical intubation.

  “It’s good to hear you, Ty.”

  “You, too. Know what else is good? This is over and we’re both still breathing. So is Mercer Leighton.”

  As Tyson spoke, Noah stared across the parking lot at Remy and Tom, who were still in conversation and seated at a bench at a picnic table near a large magnolia tree. Tom’s Jeep was parked nearby. Both men had slid on their sunglasses due to the now sunny sky.

  “You back in Charleston?” Tyson asked.

  “Not yet, but I’m headed that way.”