by Dani Pettrey
Her countenance brightened. “The rescue boat.”
“Yeah?”
“If someone wanted Abby dead, if they pushed her overboard, why lower a rescue boat?”
He pondered that a moment. “Someone else must have seen her go over.”
Darcy smiled. “And they sounded the man-overboard alarm.”
“So . . .” Gage ran with the scenario. “Whoever pushed Abby overboard regrouped, knowing they had to be the ones to pull her from the water. They couldn’t risk letting someone else reach her first.”
“They?”
Gage shook his head. “No way it could be a one-man job.”
“Okay. So they launch the rescue boat, pull her from the water, and then . . . ?”
“Supposedly take her to Kodiak Hospital.”
“Yeah, that’s what they claim.” Darcy paced just as he had until she’d knocked on his door. The worry was finally easing from his bones. “Landon said the woman claiming to be Abby didn’t show until three hours after she went overboard.”
“It would never have taken that long to reach the hospital if they were close enough to shore to make the call to take her in the first place.”
“That’s what Landon said.”
“So . . . what? They got some other woman similar in appearance to Abby, sent her in only to have her leave before she could be properly registered or assessed?”
“Right . . . That way if anyone followed up, the story of Abby being taken to the hospital and then leaving of her own accord would hold true.”
“But if it wasn’t Abby they took to the hospital, what did they do with her?”
Darcy’s hands balled at her sides. “I don’t know.”
Gage stood, intercepting her path. He rested his hands on her shoulders, gently keeping her in place. Dipping his head, he looked her straight in the eye. “I know it’s difficult, but I think at this point you have to consider the possibility . . .”
She shook her head. “Don’t say it.”
His heart melted at the fierce determination in her eyes and the quivering of her bottom lip. “Darcy . . .”
“She’s not dead.”
“Then where is she? It’s been four days.” He didn’t want to hurt her, to crush her hope, but he feared Abby was dead, and the sooner Darcy came to grips with the possibility, the better.
“I don’t know, but when we get to the bottom of this and find out exactly who’s involved, we’ll find her. I just know it.” There was so much resolve clinging to her voice, mixed with such fragile hope, he didn’t have the heart to break it.
“I hope you’re right.” He truly did, but it didn’t seem realistic.
She gave a weak smile. “I thought you didn’t believe in hope.”
He cupped her face so she couldn’t look away. “I believe in your tenacious ability to find your friend if she’s still alive.”
“Don’t say if.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
“Darcy . . .” His fingers lightly caressed her jaw. He needed her to feel what he was feeling if only for the briefest of moments.
He lowered his mouth to hers, ignoring every warning signal shooting off in his brain. Kissing might not be the smartest move, but it felt beyond right.
Her lips parted, her sweet breath mingling with his.
What was he doing?
Her hands slid up his neck, her fingers threading through his hair.
He worked to rein in his quickly evaporating self-control. Despite everything, he’d fallen for her hard, and if he wasn’t careful . . .
Careful was the exact opposite of what he was being, of what he was doing.
Mustering massive restraint, he pulled back.
Her eyes fluttered open. She yanked her hands to her sides, staring up at him.
He swallowed, the taste of her watermelon lip gloss still on his lips. “You . . .”
“Should go,” she said, stepping away.
“What? Go where?”
“I need to break into Mullins’ office, and now is the perfect time.”
“You need to do what?”
30
Darcy ignored the stirring in her heart, the jabbing at her mind, moving for Gage’s cabin door, refusing to think about their kiss, and more importantly—unreasonable as it might be—refusing to even entertain the possibility Abby was dead. She couldn’t give up on Abby—not yet. Not knowing . . .
Please, Father, let her still be alive. Don’t let it be too late for me to reach her. To save her. Not again, Father. I can’t let another friend down.
She grabbed the door handle, and Gage lightly tugged her arm, turning her to face him. “Are you insane? You can’t break into Mullins’ office.”
“I have to.”
“Why, exactly?”
“Because I need to get a look at Abby’s records.”
“Why? You know it’s all fake information to match her cover.”
She tried to keep her gaze from fastening on Gage’s lips—lips that had just been wonderfully pressed to hers. Her mind, her emotions, were spinning in a thousand directions, and she had to stop—stop and focus on Abby.
“I know, but I want to see what address Mullins supposedly sent Abby’s stuff to so I can follow up.” She slipped on her sweater, knowing Mullins kept her office cool.
“What do you mean, supposedly? You don’t believe Mullins mailed off Abby’s things as she said?”
“Please.” She pulled her hair out from under the sweater. “Do you really think Mullins would go out of her way to ship an employee’s belongings home after they’d supposedly just up and left without any warning?”
“It doesn’t seem likely, but maybe Mullins isn’t as glacial as she appears.”
Darcy arched a skeptical brow. “She said she took the postage out of Abby’s last paycheck, but the cost of shipping all of Abby’s things from Eagle Cove had to be outrageous.” Darcy opened the door, ready to head out.
“Wait.” Gage shut it, resting his hand on the door, blocking her way. “Did you say Eagle Cove?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Mullins said she shipped Abby’s stuff from Eagle Cove?”
“Yes.” Was this some sort of stall tactic to keep her from breaking into Mullins’ office? If so, it wasn’t going to work.
Gage rubbed his chin, his finger gliding over his adorable chin dimple. “That’s interesting.”
Her curiosity was piqued at his tone. “How so?”
“There is no post office at Eagle Cove.”
“What?” Her eyes widened.
“There’s no post office at Eagle Cove—no shipping company of any kind.”
“Then how do folks mail stuff?”
“It goes through the ferry system.”
“So maybe Mullins sent Abby’s things to the ferry station.”
Gage leaned against the door. “Maybe, but unless things have changed in the last few months, mail only ships on the ferry from Eagle Cove once a week.”
“Are you sure?”
“We get orders for gear from Eagle Cove, and of course, we track all our deliveries, so we know exactly how long it takes for packages to ship there. And in addition to me leading kayak excursions there, Cole has led a number of diving excursions off the coast. Trust me, you quickly learn how convenient daily postal service is when you’ve forgotten something and know it’ll be at least a week before what you need arrives.”
“Any idea what day it runs?” Maybe Abby’s belongings were still sitting at the ferry station.
Gage shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I’ll shoot Cole an e-mail from the Internet lounge. He’ll remember.”
“But Jake said the computers are monitored.”
“So what? I highly doubt me asking my brother about mailing something is going to raise any red flags.”
Darcy glanced at her watch. “I’m not so sure we should take the chance.” And it was high time she headed to Mullins’ office.
“Okay. I’ll get in touch with
him when we dock in Dutch Harbor tomorrow. I should have plenty of time before we head out on excursion—that way he’ll have time to personally check with the ferry station, see if Abby’s stuff went out or if it’s possibly still there.”
“Awesome. Now I’ve got an office to break into.”
“Not alone, you don’t.” He grabbed his sweatshirt off the back of his chair.
“What?” He didn’t possibly think . . . ?
“I’m coming with you.” He slipped on the hooded sweatshirt, the dark navy bringing out the faint specks of blue in his heather-gray eyes.
“I can handle this.”
“Of that I have no doubt, but this way I can be sure you’re safe.”
“Your concern is sweet.” But how could she possibly concentrate in his presence? Not after that kiss she couldn’t.
“I’m coming.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut in too quickly.
“I go or I blow the whistle.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“Rather than risk your safety?” He smiled. “Try me.”
She wasn’t sure whether to smile or grunt at the man. “Fine, but if you louse this up . . .”
“So far I’m two for saves, zero for lousing.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “How do you figure two?”
He held up one finger. “I saved your hide in that cave.” He held up a second finger. “And I covered for you when Mullins asked where the blame should rest for the ‘excursion fiasco,’ as she put it.”
Darcy exhaled. “Fine, but stay close and be quiet.”
Gage swiped his thumb and pointer finger across his lips, showing they were zipped.
His lips . . . so soft and . . . You will not swoon, Darcy St. James. You are a professional, and you will remain focused.
Gage followed quickly behind as they moved down the corridor leading to Mullins’ office, his steps so close he nearly nipped the back of her heels a couple times. At least he was taking her instructions to heart.
“I can’t believe you are going through with this,” he said as she knelt before Mullins’ door and pulled out her lock-picking kit.
She glanced up at him standing like a sentinel beside her, keeping watch on the corridor while shielding her from view. What part of quiet hadn’t he understood? She set to work on the lock, trying to ignore him. Like that was possible.
“I’m not even going to ask how you know to do that,” he murmured.
A few more clicks and the lock popped open.
Gage offered a hand, helping Darcy to her feet, and the two slipped inside Mullins’ reception area and closed the door. Darcy clicked on her flashlight and tried Mullins’ door—unlocked. She opened it and quietly shut it behind them.
She moved straight for Mullins’ desk, switching on the small lamp. It would give them enough light to work by but wouldn’t draw nearly the attention the overhead fluorescent lighting would if someone entered the outer office.
“You find Ted’s file while I locate Abby’s.”
Gage nodded, and each moved to the appropriate filing cabinet based on the first letter of the last name. “While we’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to pull Clint’s record too.”
She glanced over at him in the dim light. “Why Clint’s?”
“Something doesn’t sit right with me about the guy. Besides, he was on the Bowen excursion and he worked with Abby.”
“Are you sure it’s not just jealousy fueling that request?” She was only teasing, but it was clear Gage wasn’t a fan of Clint’s. He hadn’t been since she and Clint had casually flirted over the potato skins that first night on Kesuk.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He winked.
Ignoring the jab. “Fine, then while we’re at it, we should grab George’s too.”
“I can, but seeing it’s his first stint with the Bering, I doubt he’s our guy.”
“What do you mean first stint?”
“Don’t you remember? When Mullins introduced him, she said it was his first cruise with the Bering, just like it’s mine.”
“That’s right. So who did he replace?”
Gage shrugged. “You can always ask Clint. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to share.”
She worked to smother her smile. The man was jealous. She fingered through the W files, searching for Abby’s, and her frustration flared on her second pass through. “It’s not here.”
“What’s not?”
“Abby’s file.”
He pulled Ted’s file and shut the drawer. “Maybe Mullins refiled it somewhere, like in a past-employees file.”
“Good idea.” She searched while he pulled Clint’s file. She found the previous-employees cabinet and searched through, but still no Abby.
“No luck?”
She shook her head and got to her feet, brushing off her hands. “It’s got to be here somewhere. Mullins said she pulled Abby’s contact information off her application.”
“Maybe the newer employee files are on the computer. A lot of companies are making the switch to paperless.”
“Makes sense.” Darcy clicked on Mullins’ computer and waited for it to boot. Once fully loaded, an Employees Files icon appeared on the desktop. She double-clicked and a series of folders opened—New Employees, Employees, Past Employees.
“Click on New Employees. Let’s see what we can find out about George.”
Darcy did so, and they scanned the information. “Looks like he was sent over from Alaskan Adventure and Travel Employment Agency.”
“Alaskan Adventure? Isn’t that who Mullins said was their usual excursion liaison, the company that provided the ship’s excursions staff and auxiliary personnel?”
“Yeah.”
“Any criminal record listed?”
Darcy scanned the screen. “Nope.”
“Okay. Let’s move on to past employees. See if we can search by termination date.”
Darcy clicked the file and entered the date of Abby’s disappearance. “Nothing.”
“Try the next day. The day George and I boarded in Yancey.”
She typed in the date. “Two hits. Abby and a Jeremy Harnett.”
“Let’s jot his social security number down along with those of everyone working excursions. We’ll have Landon run them, just in case Alaskan Adventure missed something.”
“Good idea.” She wrote down Jeremy’s and George’s, while Gage took care of Clint’s and Ted’s. Then she clicked on Abby’s file. Her heart lurched at Abby’s personnel photo, her excited smile. There was nothing Abby loved more than an investigation.
That’s where they differed. Darcy loved God more, her family more. She glanced over at Gage. . . . Heaven help her—she loved Gage more. But this wasn’t just any investigation—this was her friend’s life. She’d already let one friend slip from her hand; she refused to let another.
Gage squeezed her shoulder. “Do you recognize the address Abby listed?”
“Yeah. . . .” She recomposed her thoughts. “It’s one of the fakes we’ve used in the past. If Mullins sent Abby’s things there and Cole doesn’t intercept them before they leave Eagle Cove, I’ll call my old boss and ask him to collect them. Kevin will go through them, see if anything of interest pops.”
“It’ll take a while. He probably won’t even get them until we’re done with this cruise.”
“Then I might have to stay on for another.”
“But I’m currently only contracted for this cruise.”
The thought of being on the Bering without Gage filled her with trepidation, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t leave until she got to the bottom of things. “I have to stay until I find Abby.”
“What if staying makes no difference?”
“It has to. Abby was on to something—something that scared her enough to beg me to come back in after three years away. She wouldn’t have done that unless she was desperate.” Abby completely understood her stance. While she didn’
t share Darcy’s aversion to the job, she understood that Darcy’s feelings on the matter were strong.
“Desperate, how?”
“She’s worked dozens of undercover investigations since I left. For some reason she felt this one was serious enough that she needed my help.”
“And then she vanished.”
Darcy nodded.
Gage leaned down, resting his palm on Mullins’ desk not an inch from hers. “How do you know the same won’t happen to you?”
Darcy was about to respond when light flashed through the transom above the door into the waiting area. Her breath caught, and she looked to Gage as he switched off the desk lamp. They scooted to the ground, their backs against Mullins’ desk.
Darcy peered around the edge, listening to the rustling in the other room.
Was it a janitor? If it was Mullins, surely she would have come straight into her office.
Whoever it was, they didn’t stay long, and moments after the light turned off, Darcy switched on the flashlight and Gage signaled for them to move. They dashed out of Mullins’ office and through the waiting area. Once in the corridor, Gage grabbed her hand and they raced back toward the stairwell and on to his cabin.
Another bloody investigative reporter. Unbelievable. Darcy St. James had hidden her past well. It’d taken some serious digging and more than one bribe, but he’d gotten to the bottom of her investigative history—a history she shared with Abigail Tritt, aka Abby Walsh. No wonder she’d been poking around about Abby’s absence, asking so many questions. She was on board to find her friend. Well, if she missed her friend so much, he’d be sure to reunite them.
31
Kayden stepped off the ferry to find Piper waiting. She was huddled under a red umbrella, puddles pooling at her feet. “Did Landon get ahold of Abby’s family?” With more than seventy-two hours passed and no sign of Abby, they’d all agreed it was necessary to inform her folks.
Piper nodded. “He made the call last night. It was horrible. They are talking to the FBI.”
“That’s good,” Jake said, zipping up his windbreaker against the slashing rain, “but I don’t think they’ll be of much help.”
