Stormy Waters: Book 10 in The Dar & Kerry Series

by Good, Melissa

"I know." Dar answered. "Let's just find out what's really going on before we jump to conclusions though." She typed further. "Not that there's any legitimate reason for anyone in our office to be in that router, but I do like to have the facts."

  "Grr."

  "Then we can whack 'em."

  Kerry put her head down on Dar's shoulder to wait, watching the screen with impatient eyes. Someone inside. Her eyes narrowed. Didn't that just suck?

  ANDREW PUT DOWN the crowbar he'd just been using, and lifted the cover off the crate in front of him. The hold of the ship was thick with workers despite it being a weekend, and he was careful to prop the cover up against the bulkhead out of the way.

  It was hot in the hold, and he had to pause to wipe the sweat off his brow. He was glad he'd picked a tank top to wear to work. The sky was becoming overcast and the breeze had dropped, promising rain later but doing nothing to dispel the mugginess.

  He hadn't expected to be called in today. The supervisor had been a touch mad at him for running off the previous day, and Andy had half expected the man to punish him by giving him a few days off without any pay.

  That would have been just fine, from his view. There was a nice big ocean right out there waiting for them to be driving over it. Sitting at the helm of their boat was a sight nicer than unpacking boxes inside an old metal sauna box.

  But the super had gotten a call, and everyone'd been told to come in the next day. So here he was. A quick look over the side of the ship had confirmed that the ship was still leaking oil, and he was pondering what do about it after Ceci had nearly scared most of the fish out of the harbor when she'd heard about it.

  Sometimes, he did forget his wife was one of them environmental types. Andrew scratched his jaw, then shook his head, scattering a few droplets of sweat over the box. Ah well. He'd figure something out.

  With a low, melodious whistle, he picked up a shipping invoice and then peered inside the crate, glancing at the sheet for confirmation. The box was alleged to contain boxes for cash registers, and as he pulled aside a thick wad of cardboard stuffing, the corner of stacked gray boxes were revealed. "Yeap."

  A yell outside the ship made him look up, and he heard the sound of air brakes releasing and catching just outside. "Now what?" He muttered, going to the hatchway and looking out.

  An eighteen wheel truck was parked outside, its driver arguing with one of the guards. Andrew glanced inside, watching the crew around him gathering around the coffee pot for a break. He stepped out onto the gangway instead, and crossed over to the road to listen in.

  The trucker was a big, tall, man wearing cowboy boots, a big buckle belt, and with a hat to match, as much a stereotype as Andrew had seen recently round these here parts. Feller even had highway patrol sunglasses on.

  "Listen, buddy." The trucker pointed past the guard. "There ain't no gate down there big enough to pull this rig in. I just need to go over there, so get outta my way, okay?"

  The guard shook his head. "Sorry, buster. My boss said no one goes through here to that pier, period."

  "What's the big deal? It's just a damn road."

  "Not to that pier. They don't want anyone going through this pier or to that pier for deliveries. Forget it. So just take off."

  "This stuff's got a rush delivery!"

  The guard, a young man in his mid-twenties, smirked. "Rush? I don't care. My base said no one, and that means no one. Guess they're just out of luck," he said.

  No deliveries to Dar's boat, huh? Andrew ambled closer, leaning against a stone post near the truck. "Now, that don't make much sense." He drawled. "Feller's just looking to pull on through."

  The guard looked at him. "Shut up, old man. Get back in there to work. No one asked your opinion."

  No one, least of all Andrew, expected what happened next. The trucker, standing within arm's reach of the guard, dropped his clipboard and lashed out, slugging the man across the face with one gloved fist, and sending him sprawling to the ground. "Know what I hate worse than a pissass little punk?" The man growled. "It's a pissass little punk disrespecting people."

  Andrew snorted, covering his mouth with one hand.

  The trucker stomped back toward his rig, grabbing his clipboard on the way, shaking his head and muttering as he walked. "Ain't got the balls to stop me going where I want to go, that's for damn sure."

  The guard got to his feet, and wiped a bit of mixed blood and spit from his face, then removed the baton from the ring on his belt and took off after the trucker. "Son of a..."

  "Wall, now." Andrew shoved away from the stone pylon and intercepted the guard in two long strides, catching him by the arm and swinging him around. "Son, don't be a jackass."

  "Let the fuck go of me!" The guard squalled, lashing at Andrew with the baton. "I'll kick your ass!"

  "Boy, don't you do that." Andrew warned, reacting out of instincts honed during many years of experience.

  The trucker turned, to see his erstwhile attacker being bent into a pretzel as Andrew put him in a restraint hold and lifted him off his feet. He put his hands on his hips and just watched, as the uniformed man was shaken like a rat, bits of his guard accoutrements bouncing off the pavement and rolling under the truck.

  "Ah told you, don't be a jackass." Andy told him firmly. "That there feller's just going to drive that truck over you and make you flatter than a pancake."

  "Let go of me!" The man struggled to no avail.

  Andrew walked over to the waterside with him, and held him threateningly over the edge of the pier. "Ya like salt?" He inquired. "No? Then just shut your mouth up." He looked over at the trucker, who had climbed inside his rig and started the engine. "Now, don't you be speeding on this here dock, young feller." He cautioned the driver, getting a grin in return.

  The trucker honked his air horn in appreciation, giving Andrew a big thumbs up as he drove past the ship toward the next pier.

  Andy waited for the truck to clear their space, and then he released the guard giving him a healthy shove across the dock to prevent any errant stupidity.

  The guard caught his balance, and turned, starting back toward Andrew with an angry expression on his face. "You are in so much trouble, old man."

  "Ah am not in any trouble, son." Andrew merely sat down on the pylon and waited for him, relaxed and calm. He made eye contact with the guard and held it steadily as the man advanced on him, years of facing danger lending a sheen of ice to his composure. "But surely you will be." He added, in a soft tone. "If you keep on keeping on."

  The guard slowed as he approached, and then halted uncertainly. Then he backed off, sticking his baton back into his belt. "I'm not going to bother with you."

  Andrew smiled.

  "I'll just get my boss to get your ass fired." The guard gathered the shreds of his dignity and stalked off toward the small guard house, leaving Andrew in peace on the side of the dock.

  Thunder rolled overhead, making him look up at the sky. "Ah do think ah just like trouble." He remarked. "Lord knows mah kid got that from some damn place, after all." After a brief moment, the ex-SEAL got up and headed back across the gangway, chuckling softly under his breath.

  DAR REACHED OVER and picked up her cup of coffee, taking a sip before she offered it to Kerry. They were still squished together on the couch, after an hour of tense work on the laptop had at least given them a measure of security over the situation.

  "How long does it take security to figure out who is in that building?" Kerry groused, handing the cup back after taking a swallow. "What did they do, call out the dogs to sniff the Xerox supply rooms?"

  Dar watched her gauges, her fingers twitching above the keys. "It's a big building."

  "Not that big." Kerry listened to the thunder, and then she returned her head to Dar's shoulder. "You know, it's a pity we can't work like this all the time."

  "From the cabin or from this couch together?" Dar asked.

  "Yes."

  "I have a couch in my office."

  "It's not
as comfortable as this one." Kerry objected, reaching over to type in a few lines, and hit enter. "And there is just no way I could wear my jammies there, Dar."

  Dar cocked her head and regarded Kerry's dress that featured adorable little cart wheeling piglets all over it. It consisted of a nightshirt that was just barely legal, but also had a pair of bottoms Kerry seldom wore. "I could post a policy change just for you."

  "Uh huh. I can just picture me running meetings like this."

  Dar chuckled. "Not a goddamn thing would get done," she said. "Ah...here we go. All right. Now that's looking better." She was at last satisfied with how her program was behaving. "Okay, I think it won't crash now."

  "Phew."

  Dar now switched to her mail, clicking on a late arrival. "Here's the trace Mark got." She reviewed the results. "Encrypted."

  "Can you un-encrypt it?" Kerry asked. "I can't even read the header."

  "Hmm." Her partner drummed her fingers on the keyboard. "Not without the..." She hesitated. "Let's wait to see if Mark finds the machine it was coming from. It'll be easier with the key. I might be able to crack the encryption, but it would take me forever."

  Kerry typed on the keyboard. Mark -- what is taking so long for the security report?

  Dar slipped her arm over Kerry's shoulders, and rubbed her back gently. "This is going to be a big issue. I better warn Alistair."

  Freaking all of sales and marketing is here! Mark's answer came back, brimming with disgust. The whole damn floor is packed with them, and they've been sucking DHCP addresses all morning.

  "Oh. Crap." Kerry sighed. "That sucks."

  Dar considered the screen. "Maybe...maybe it doesn't." She said slowly. "I wonder how many new people they've brought on in the last month."

  "They turnover like..." Kerry started to say then her voice trailed off. "But Dar, whoever did this was technically very savvy."

  "Uh huh. Where better in our company to hide then, hmm? Last place I'd look for a nerd is in those groups." Dar's tone was grim. "And you know what else?"

  Kerry stared at the screen, then up at Dar. "They're all around the presentation rooms."

  "Exactly."

  Exactly.

  Chapter Nine

  KERRY GUNNED THE engine of her bike, looking both ways before she eased out onto the still damp road and headed south. The sun had reluctantly made an appearance on its journey to the west, and she decided it was a good time to buzz off down to the market and get something for dinner.

  The roads were still wet and she was careful to keep her speed down. Being dumped on her butt on the road wasn't something she was willing to experience, even if Dar had patiently taught her how to right the bike if she did get overturned.

  It wasn't easy even though she was stronger than most women her size. Kerry shifted gears and headed through a green light--one of the few traffic stops in the general vicinity. The quiet nature of the town was one of the things she liked most about it and even now on the weekend, there was little traffic to impede her passage.

  The market was just up on the right hand side, a low, wooden building with sun-faded paint and crushed shell pathways leading from the scrubby little parking lot to the door. Kerry pulled into a shady spot near the door and shut the bike's engine off, swinging her leg over the seat and removing her helmet.

  She tucked the safety gear under its bungee and headed for the doors, the still damp breeze brushing over her bare shoulders. Pushing the left door open, she entered the pleasant chill of the air conditioned room and removed her sunglasses, tucking them by one earpiece into a belt loop. "Hi, Bill."

  The man behind the meat counter looked up and waved. "Hi there, neighbor." He greeted Kerry amiably. "Didn't know you were down here this weekend. Thought the rain would keep folks up north."

  "We came down on Friday night." Kerry picked up a basket and started browsing up and down the aisles. "But it looks like it's clearing up now. How's Martha?"

  "Oh, she's doing fine." Bill said. "Hey listen, I just got in some fresh snapper. You want a couple pieces?"

  Snapper. Kerry cocked her head slightly. Both she and Dar were quite fond of fresh fish, and a nice broiled filet sounded pretty good to her. "Sure." She agreed, detouring to the vegetable section and selecting a couple of Yukon gold potatoes, some green beans, and two ears of white corn.

  She also added a quart of strawberries and carried the lot of it up to the counter. She could have gotten stuff for tomorrow also, but she preferred to let whimsy control what she picked rather than planning things out too far in advance. "Wow those do look nice." She commented on the fish.

  "A cook would know that." He chuckled. "And I know you're the cook in that house."

  Kerry accepted the brown wrapped bundle with a slight grin. "I guess Dar's habit of only buying ice cream, milk, chocolate bars and bananas sort of clues that in, huh?" She handed over her credit card. "But I like cooking. It's fun."

  "Me too." Bill pushed the credit card receipt her way for signature. "I get kidded about it by the boys, though. You know how it is."

  Kerry signed her name in a neat script hand and gave it back to him. "Well, not really." She admitted. "Usually girls are expected to know how, and to like cooking." Her face creased into a smile. "I've never had anyone look crosswise at me for that. For other things..." She waggled a hand.

  "Like that pretty tattoo?" Bill asked, with a grin of his own. "It's new, yeah?"

  "Yeah." Kerry glanced down at the half visible mark, peeking out from around her tank top strap. "I got it a few weeks back. Like it?"

  Bill leaned closer, raising his glasses slightly to get a better look. "Nice work." He complimented her. "I've got a pair of dolphins, myself, but it'd take a pair of speedos that I'd die before wearing, to show 'em to the world."

  Kerry chuckled. "That was my second choice of locations." She picked up her packages and the keys to the motorcycle. "But I think I really wanted people to be able to see it." Her eyes strayed, for a moment, to the mark and the letters of Dar's name visible, before she turned and headed back toward the doors. "Have a great day, Bill."

  "You too, Kerry." Bill replied, sitting back down on his stool. "Drive careful now, it's wet out."

  Kerry lifted a hand in acknowledgement as she slipped through the door, reaching hastily for her sunglasses as the glare outside made her blink.

  "Excuse me...are you Kerry Stuart?"

  Kerry pulled up short and turned, finding herself the focus of a well-dressed black woman, and a man with a camera. The woman didn't look unfriendly, but the light was on the camera, and Kerry hadn't grown up in a spotlight for nothing. "Yes." She answered slowly. "Can I ask why you want to know?"

  "Great. We found you." The woman smiled. "We're doing filming as part of the special on the new American Cruise line project, and I'd like to ask you some questions."

  Kerry squared her shoulders, shifting her packages carefully to one arm. "Our office is in Miami. Is there some reason you came looking for me here?" She kept her voice even, but there was little warmth in it.

  The reporter looked warily at her. "Well, someone tipped me off you might be down here...so I thought I'd take a chance. Since the other teams are up at the port working, it seemed a little...unusual that you'd leave the city."

  Anger started to bubble inside Kerry's stomach. "Well, I guess you just wasted a trip then. I've got nothing to say at the moment. It's my time off." She turned and headed for her bike, her ears catching the whine of the camera behind her.

  "Wait..." The reporter came after her. "Ms. Roberts talked to us."

  Kerry put her packages into the small storage area in the back of the bike and got on it, shifting it over its center of balance and putting up the kickstand. "In the office." She started the engine, and revved it, the low throaty roar making speech momentarily impossible.

  "You don't think it says something about your company, to have you down here on vacation while everyone else is working?" The reporter queried. "Maybe my
source was right after all."

  Kerry put her helmet on. "The only thing it says about our company is that we trust our staff to do what we pay them to." She backed the bike and prepared to leave the lot. "Excuse me." She tried not to look directly at the camera, the blank gray eye following her every move.

  "Is Ms. Roberts down here too? Maybe I can talk to her." The reporter persisted. "Maybe she can explain it to me since you're unwilling to."

  Answering didn't seem wise. Kerry gunned her engine and headed out onto the road, shifting through first and into second gear as she glanced behind her to see if the woman was following. She was caught between outrage and worry, wondering briefly if she should have played the reporter's game and just talked to her for a few minutes.

  Dar had, as she'd noted.

  Ah well. Kerry shifted into third gear and picked up speed, anxious to get back to the cabin and get the bike under cover before the woman could find out where they lived. Would she knock on the door? The thought made her angry, and she felt somewhat invaded by the idea.

  This was a haven for them. To have the reporter come here and shove herself into this part of her world bothered Kerry more than she liked to acknowledge, and she resented it hugely. She leaned into the turn that would take her toward home, and panicked for a moment as she felt the bike start to slide out from under her.

  Her body reacted uncertainly, not used to the motion and she leaned back the other way out of pure instinct. For a second, it was riding the line, the tire skidding against the wet pavement for an eternity before the traction caught again and she brought the motorcycle back under control.

  "Jesus." Kerry felt her heart pounding in her chest, as she slowed down, ready to make the turn into their driveway. To her surprise, Dar was out in the yard heading for the road, and she jumped the fence as Kerry pulled to a stop in the soft gravel. "Hey."

  "Hey." Dar joined her, laying a hand on Kerry's arm. "What's up? You okay?"

  "Yeah. Almost laid the bike down." Kerry admitted. "Let's get it in the shed. I had a very unpleasant encounter with your friend from the filming people at the market."