In Over Her Head

by Judi Fennell

  She laughed without any amusement at the irony. She’d finally overcome the fear, only to never be able to go in the ocean again. Reel might have saved her life to live on land, but in the sea, well, that was never going to happen.

  She secured the rope and stood, brushing her hands against her khaki shorts, trying not to remember. She did that a lot these days.

  A stiff, hot breeze blew in off the water, but even that was no relief. The sun pounded down relentlessly, giving her a headache, but she still glanced up when a flock of seagulls flew overhead. She shielded her eyes, looking for a pelican. Maybe two.

  None.

  She’d hoped Ernie or Amelia would’ve contacted her, but every pelican she’d seen had been a plain old, non-speaking bird.

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  The locals on Peck Island were already talking about her recent penchant for stalking pelicans on the beach. They’d put it down to whatever had happened to her during her disappearance and she’d let that image stand.

  She certainly couldn’t explain it.

  She had claimed amnesia in the month since the sailors had brought her to land. No one could get anything out of her other than her name and where she lived. Fewer explanations that way.

  But not a way to make Joey pay. She couldn’t file a police report for attempted murder unless she

  “remembered” everything, and where would that lead?

  No one would believe she’d survived that long in the water. No one.

  Interestingly, Joey hadn’t been around. She’d heard rumors that a few guys from “up the coast” were interested in talking to him, although the way Joey had disappeared, she and everyone else thought “talking”

  was a euphemism.

  Well, good. He’d made his own troubles; let him deal with them.

  The mooring line creaked, and Erica bent down to make sure she’d secured it. God knew, she’d been distracted enough lately.

  It was all she could do not to think of Reel and those last few minutes before Krak—

  No. She couldn’t do it again. She fell back on her butt, crossing her legs under her, the heat from the pier burning the backs of her thighs. She squirmed around, pulling her legs in front of her, and wrapped her arms around them.

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  She dropped her forehead to her knees and drew in a breath. Diesel fuel, the stale sting of an overripe dead fish… the sweet caress of a cool sea mist, the sharp bite of salt… It all came rushing over her. She missed him. That smile that made her insides melt, that cute little twitch of his dimples that gave him his cockiness, the soft touch of his fingers as he stroked her cheek, the smart-ass way he’d egged her on with “Sweetheart…”

  Why was she doing this to herself? She’d had no choice. She hadn’t been able to save him. The only thing she could’ve done was go to the surface like he’d wanted. At least, then, his memory could live on. Damn! If only she’d let him come inside her. If only he hadn’t been so damn noble, maybe she’d be pregnant. Have his child to remember him by, to love…

  She took a shuddering breath and wiped the tears from her eyes with the heels of her hand. Maybe some day this wouldn’t hurt so much.

  She went to stand, but a flash in the water caught her attention. What was that fish doing? It looked like some toy motorboat a three-year-old was trying to drive but kept banging into the pylon. In, smash, back out. In, smash, back out.

  The thing even looked drunk, wobbling from side to side.

  Before Reel, she never would’ve noticed, but ever since him, her life had been turned upside down. Which this fish was now doing.

  It was a parrotfish.

  They weren’t indigenous to this area.

  It was a small, midnight blue parrotfish. InOverHerHead.indd 324

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  With a dental problem.

  Holy—! She sprinted to her feet, looking for a net. Chipper? Chipper had found her?

  She grabbed a net and bucket from the closest boat and scooped Chipper out of the water. She filled the bucket and plunked the little guy in it. He had something hooked onto his dorsal—

  “There you are.”

  Snide words slithered over her skin, and Erica forgot about Chipper. She turned, straightening.

  “Joey. What are you doing here?”

  He looked even slimier than she remembered. And she’d thought to spend the rest of her life with him? No wonder her brothers had thought she was nuts. He sauntered toward her, hands deep in the pockets of his white khakis, the leather of his new docksides creaking with each step. A gold logo winked at her from his starched, navy golf shirt and his hair was blacker than before.

  Joey was putting forth a lot of effort on appearances.

  “How have you been, Erica? Or, more importantly, where have you been?”

  “Where?”

  In three strides he had her by the arm. She almost tripped over Chipper’s bucket as Joey’s momentum carried them toward the edge of the pier.

  “Cut the crap, Erica. How did you survive? You’re supposed to be dead.”

  “No thanks to you.” Erica wrenched her arm free and tried to step around him, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “So you do remember.”

  She shrugged. “Bits and pieces.”

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  “Selective memory. Nice.” He lifted her chin with an oily finger. “Convenient.”

  “Like leaving me in the water to die, Joey? That would’ve been convenient, wouldn’t it?” Let him try to intimidate her. She was over that. Over him. She’d survived the mother of all sea monsters; Joey was nothing.

  “That was an accident. I thought you were dead. There was blood in the water. I couldn’t bring back a dead body. There’d be too many questions.”

  “Did you even try to find out if I was alive?”

  “Hey, you said there was a shark in the water. The blood was a direct link to you. Even if the bullet hadn’t killed you, the shark would. I wasn’t going to risk my neck when yours was a definite goner.”

  “Gee, thanks for your concern.”

  “Be reasonable, Erica. No one’s going to put themselves in that situation.” Nobody but Reel. “Besides, you obviously did okay.” He looked her up and down in that skeevy way he’d adopted since their breakup.

  “Really okay.”

  “What are you doing here, Joey?”

  He rocked back on his heels, slipping his hands into his pockets again. Anyone noticing them would have thought they were discussing a boat charter.

  “I heard you were alive.”

  “And?”

  He sucked the corner of his mustache into his mouth, studying her, then puffed it out. “I want the diamonds.”

  “Are we back to that? Joey, I don’t have the diamonds.”

  He pulled a switchblade from his pocket, flicking it open below her nose. “I think you do.”

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  “Oh for chrissake, not this again. Joey, put it away. You can’t carve them out of me, because I don’t have them. And if you think that piddling little thing is enough to get me onto a boat with you again, you’re even more delusional that I thought.” Honestly, after makos, bull sharks, moray eels, and Kraken, did he really think that little blade would scare her?

  Joey’s eyes widened when she stood her ground. Good. Let him see she wasn’t the meek, little followalong he’d known before. If she’d stood her ground before, none of this would have happened. She’d never have met Reel, they’d never have gone to see Ceto, run into Kraken…

  … gotten Reel
killed…

  She stumbled with that last thought, bumping into Chipper’s bucket. Water sloshed over the sides, soaking Joey’s feet.

  “Son of a bitch! Do you know how much these cost—

  Hello… What do we have here?” Shoving her aside, Joey reached into the bucket.

  He stood, holding a small, dripping, lumpy brown bag. He raised his eyebrow. “Don’t have the diamonds, huh?”

  He swung the bag like a pendulum. “Then what’s this?”

  She reacted without thinking, grabbing the bag and lunging around him. Chipper’s bucket went flying off the pier and Erica ran toward the dock. Joey thumped along behind her, swearing all the way. He should have broken the new shoes in before wearing them, but then, that was Joey—all show and no substance. Too bad it’d taken her so long to see that. She jumped a piling and ran into Dale Phillipp, a newly retired police officer who’d put his life savings InOverHerHead.indd 327

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  into his boat and had decided to spend the first summer of his retirement living at the marina.

  “Hey, Erica. What’s up? You okay?” He caught her by the arms.

  Erica tried to catch her breath. Joey couldn’t do anything to her in front of Dale. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just remembered something I forgot to do in the office.”

  Like hire a bodyguard.

  “Oh, good. I was just coming to get you anyway. There’s a group in there wanting to book a charter. I told them I’d find you.”

  She looked back over her shoulder. Joey’s slicked hair was flopping like penguin flippers off the top of his head. “Great, Dale. Thanks. Hey, um, could you give Joey a hand? His boat’s having some engine trouble.”

  Joey scowled as he stopped beside them. “That’s okay, Dale. I’ll get my mechanic to—”

  “Not a problem, Joe. I’ve done some tinkering in my time. Let’s see if I can do anything. No sense wasting good money on a mechanic, right?” He clasped Joey by the shoulder and steered him down the dock. The look Joey sent her let her know it wasn’t over yet. He had that right. The bodyguard idea had popped into her head and stuck like a starfish on a clam. Too bad she didn’t know who, exactly, those guys

  “up the coast” were, or she’d give them a call. Joey was done trying to ruin her life.

  She glanced down at the bag in her hand. Hell, her life was already ruined.

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  Chapter 39

  Erica opened the rickety, old screen door of the marina office. Four couples waited by the counter with that carefree, life’s-a-beach attitude she’d lost over a month ago.

  She slipped the bag into her shorts, not caring that it was wet. She wasn’t going to let it out of her sight. For the next hour, she set the McHughs and their friends up with every possible tackle combination she had, sold them the best rods for their needs, and arranged for Mark, the new captain, to take them out for an afternoon of fishing.

  She’d had to cave in and hire someone, but it couldn’t be helped. She wasn’t going to risk her neck—or the rest of her—on The Council’s edict when Reel had made the ultimate sacrifice so she wouldn’t have to. She’d just have to take the teasing when her brothers returned and live with it. At least living was an option. Besides, now that she knew why she couldn’t go in the water, now that she knew what had happened during those missing minutes all those years ago, she could live with no one else knowing.

  And did it really matter anyway? Reel was gone, taking her heart with him.

  At last, the McHughs gathered their gear and followed Mark to the Mako-wish like little sea horses after their father.

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  Geez… was everything going to remind her of Reel?

  Speaking of…

  She tugged the bag from her shorts. The diamonds rolled through her fingers.

  She should make that call first. Get someone here in case Joey decided he wanted to finish what they’d started. Especially now that he knew she had the diamonds. What had Chipper been doing with them? How had he found her?

  She tapped her fingers around the bag. The phone call could wait. She wanted to see these.

  She slid the bag open and shook the diamonds onto the countertop. White, smooth-edged stones tinkled onto the glass surface, half a dozen of varying sizes. Nothing remarkable about them, other than where they’d come from. And what they’d caused.

  She inspected each one, trying to see what it was about them that merited Reel’s death. All for a few shiny stones.

  What a waste.

  Feeling the tears begin and her throat thicken, Erica gathered them up. Joey could have them. She just wanted this—the memories, the pain—to be over. Cupping her hand, she started to pour the diamonds back and—wait. What was that?

  She put the diamonds on the counter and reached into the bag.

  Something a little bit slimy and very delicate tickled her skin.

  Then it latched on.

  Startled, Erica yanked her finger out. A blue actinia. With a purple tentacle. InOverHerHead.indd 330

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  She stared at the limp tentacles draping over her fingertip, the tiny pods gripping her skin. What in the—

  The chimes on the office door jangled. Footsteps tapped across the concrete floor.

  She should put the actinia away. The diamonds, too. She should, but she couldn’t seem to move. Hell, she couldn’t seem to breathe.

  Then she looked up.

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

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  Chapter 40

  She tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. His legs, however, worked just perfectly. Erica could only stare as he walked toward her.

  “Reel?” came out like a whisper.

  And then he smiled. Those were his dimples. His wicked, teasing gleam in those eyes that matched his shirt. Shoulder-length black curls sweeping over chiseled cheekbones. Cheekbones she’d showered with kisses weeks ago.

  “Reel?” She was almost afraid to believe it. “But…

  how? Krak—?”

  Reel didn’t give her any time for more questions. He rounded the counter and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on her lips before she had a chance to catch her breath. Not that it mattered. He stole it away. She stood there in his embrace, nothing but a mass of quivery emotions and nerve endings, his kiss registering in her subconscious and with her hormones, but her mind couldn’t seem to wrap itself around his existence. Here.

  In her world.

  On land.

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  to freak out if I just walked in here out of the blue.” He traced her lips with his finger. “Sweetheart? Nothing to say? How unlike you.”

  The sarcasm got through to her. “What are you doing here?”

  “That’s all I get?” His green eyes were sparkling. Or maybe that was because she was looking at him through her own sparkling eyes.

  “Are you real?” She reached up to touch his cheek.

  “That’s my name, remember?”

  Her fingers found the curls, and she couldn’t resist threading through them. Just like on the island. “I remember.”

  And then he was kissing her.

  Or was she kissing him?

  Did it matter?

  It was Reel. He was him and he was here and…

  He had legs.

  She stilled.

  He did too.

  She
pulled away, her fingers lingering by his jaw, the actinia’s tentacles brushing his earlobe.

  “Reel? What’s going on? Why—how—are you here?

  What about Kraken? I saw you… the blood…?”

  His beautiful green eyes lost their luster and he closed them briefly. He took a breath—of air. “There’s a lot to talk about.”

  “So talk.” She couldn’t keep holding her breath in hope, but her heart knew no such limitations. It kept pounding, deeper, harder, more hopeful…

  Reel ran his hands up her arms. Goose bumps followed.

  “How did you escape Kraken?”

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  Reel captured her hands. “Is there someplace we can sit? The legs are still a bit new.”

  “Sure.” She stuffed the diamonds in her pocket, led him into her office, and pulled a folding chair up next to the 1940s-issue metal desk where she plopped her butt. They stared at each other and she let hope grow.

  “Kraken?”

  He smiled and the twinkle was back. “Right. Krak.”

  His fingers stroked hers, absently playing with the actinia tentacles. “It was Vincent, believe it or not.”

  “Vincent? The shark who tried to kill me?”

  Reel nodded. “Seems Hammerhead Harry’s been giving him flak about ruling the shelf, so he hightailed it down to the Caribbean to challenge the biggest thing in the ocean. The one way to assert his claim was to take out Krak or die trying.”

  “So, did he?”

  Reel shook his head. “Actually, he won. Well, we won. As I understand it, Kraken had inherited Immortality from Ceto, but when he went after me with the intent to kill, it violated the statute. The gods could rescind his Immortality, which they did. Immediately. I’d found a pipe near that boat and was planning to use it as a lance, but Vincent helped matters along. So, unless Ceto’s keeping other progeny hidden, she’s the last of the sea monsters. She’s understandably upset and angry. Probably planning some big retaliation, however, she’s got problems with The Council about hiding him in the first place.”

  “Speaking of The Council, what happened to you when you got back?” She couldn’t believe he was here. His fingers tightened around hers. “It was a bit dicey.”