“A noble cause, to be sure.” Chief Winters stretched his legs beneath the booth. “But looks like Sylvie isn’t the only one who hasn’t realized the truth.”
Will hoped Chief Winters wasn’t reading too much into his reaction. He didn’t want to accept that he was growing more attached to Sylvie every day. But the police chief, trained to read people, hadn’t been fooled. Will had been the only fool. He had some kind of thing for Sylvie Masters. How did he cut off those feelings and protect her at the same time?
Will stood and dropped a few small bills on the table. Enough to pay for their meals and a tip.
“Better hurry if you’re going to catch her,” Chief Winters said. “Don’t worry about me, I can find my own way home. Let me know what you learn, if anything. I’ll do the same. And Will, be careful. Don’t let your attraction to her cloud your judgment. These people play for keeps.”
* * *
Sylvie stood on the ferry that would deliver her to Bellingham, Washington. If she’d flown, it would have taken a few hours. By boat, it would take two and a half days to get there.
Nausea roiled inside. What was she doing here on this ferry filled with strangers? The boat was packed with fishermen, those seeking work or adventure, retired couples and a few that looked like they were up to no good.
The ferry from Bellingham to southeast Alaska was commonly termed “the poor man’s cruise.” She’d been fortunate to book passage, but she’d been too late to get a cabin. Nor had she had the foresight to bring a small tent like so many others who would sleep out on the deck and under the solarium.
She’d have to join the ranks of those sleeping on the chairs. At least she could rent a pillow and blanket. If only she’d gotten over her ridiculous fear of flying, but her experience with Will had only served to deepen her fears. That, and the fact her mother had died in a plane crash.
So she couldn’t bring herself to book a flight from Juneau to Seattle.
Supposedly, flying was the safest way to travel. But Sylvie had never been one to count the stats. Standing outside, the wind blew cold and continuously with the movement of the ship. She tugged her hood over her head. Drew in a breath of fresh Alaskan air. Took in the view. Gray clouds hung low, sometimes hiding the peaks of snow-capped mountains. Tree-laden islands, some surprisingly small and others massive by contrast, dotted the channel of the Inside Passage. The scenery brought a measure of peace.
And at least for the time being, Sylvie felt safe from killers. After all, how could the men looking for her have known she’d choose this route to get home? If they were looking for her, surely they’d be looking at airports.
This hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all. She needed time to think about everything that had happened without nurses hovering or interrupting her thoughts every couple of hours, and without Will’s hospital visits. Now that she had been released, she was free. She could put distance between them and keep him from harm’s way.
Why had he come to see her so often and stayed so long every time he came to the hospital? He said it was because they were in this together because of their mothers. But the tenderness in his touch and the care pouring from his eyes told her it was more than that. He was there because he believed there was something more personal between him and Sylvie.
Was he right? She wasn’t sure. His presence scrambled her thoughts. She liked him, and she didn’t want to like him. She owed him her life, and she didn’t want to owe anyone. Sylvie couldn’t lead him on like that. Couldn’t hurt him, couldn’t hurt herself, letting something develop between them that could go nowhere.
But despite her persuasive arguments to leave Will behind, she knew she could use someone’s help right now, which had her wishing she hadn’t pushed him away. Make that run away. And that was what Sylvie had done. She’d run away from Will.
Leaning over the banister, she watched the ferry’s wake. As a diving trainer, she understood the importance of being smart and planning out her actions down to the minute. Anything else could get her killed. And yet she’d almost lost her life due to her gross miscalculations. How could she protect herself now? Backing off seemed the most obvious answer, but it was one she wouldn’t accept.
Regardless of her mistakes, she would keep searching for the truth that someone didn’t want her to find.
A shiver crawled over her. She turned her back to the beauty of southeast Alaska to watch other passengers, wondering if she might actually be in danger from any of them.
Were her attackers still after her? Would they follow her back to Washington or wait for her there?
And the biggest question of all. Who was they?
A gust whipped across her face, raking her eyes. Sylvie blinked to moisten them.
Was Damon involved? Had he killed her mother? Her heart ached at the thought. She couldn’t accept that he might be the reason her mother was dead. Couldn’t be behind those who had tried to kill her. Even though their relationship had been strained these past few years, and even though he was an adulterer, Sylvie found it hard to believe Damon could be capable of murder. Could she trust him? No. And he certainly had the means.
She wished she could think of someone else who might be responsible, but she couldn’t.
Across the channel, she watched a cruise ship make its way north. Sylvie blinked up in time to see a man standing on the other side of the ferry. His gaze flicked away from her. Had he been watching her? He disappeared around a corner.
Dread coiled around her spine.
She was definitely in over her head. If someone had followed her, intending to kill her or push her over the side, how could she protect herself? How did she stay alive long enough to solve this—something her mother hadn’t been able to do? If only Will was here. If she’d asked him, he would have come.
Stop it! Stop thinking about him. What was done, was done. Sylvie was on her own now, as it should be.
Thinking back on their last conversation, she decided that a bodyguard wasn’t such a bad idea, at least until this was over. Normally this would be something for which she would ask for her stepfather’s assistance. He had his own security detail. But she couldn’t trust them now—not while she suspected he might be involved. Sylvie hated the tumultuous thoughts coursing through her. He’d given her a good home, everything she’d wanted except for two parents who loved each other. What had her mother running to Mountain Cove if not her husband? She was always on a witch hunt; what had she discovered? Whatever it was had gotten her killed.
Suddenly, the wide open space, the waters of the channel and the forest, closed in on Sylvie. The air smothered her. When she glanced around, she realized that she was alone on this portion of the deck. Where had everyone gone? The cafeteria for a hot meal?
She had to get out of here, but she was stuck on this ferry for three days.
Three days.
Her pulse shot up as Sylvie pushed from the rail to run, to flee. To where, she had no idea.
She hurried around a corner and ran into a wall of a man. A yelp escaped as the man gripped her. Her heart jumped to her throat and she tried to free herself, except his grip tightened as he pulled her close.
Familiar brown eyes stared back. “Sylvie.”
“Will?” Relief rippled through her.
“Yes, I’m here. What’s wrong?” He slowly released his grip, his concerned gaze roaming her face then scrutinizing their surroundings.
“What...what are you doing here?” She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but anger battled with her sheer joy at seeing him.
“You don’t seem glad to see me.” His brow quirked.
Her jumbled emotions kept her from a coherent response, then finally, “Why are you just now letting me know you were here? I...” Yeah, she was glad to see him, but she wouldn’t let him know how much. She was more than angry he’d been following her against her wishes.
&nb
sp; “I wanted to make sure you were safe. But I wasn’t sure about your reaction when you found out.” He glanced off in the distance. “I was working up my nerve to approach you, but then you disappeared.”
“Will...” She managed a shallow gasp of his name. Pressed her forehead against his chest like an idiot. He would see right through her if she didn’t pull herself together. “I had a feeling I was being followed. If only I had known it was you.”
“I could have misjudged the situation. Are you saying I shouldn’t have come?”
Oh, now he was teasing her. Of course he could tell that she was glad to see him. Her reaction said everything, more than she wanted to reveal. But she wouldn’t say the words to him. Tell him that she liked that he’d come after her, that he’d followed. That he wanted to protect her.
“Will, I’ll ask again, why are you here?” She wanted to hear all those things from him.
“I wanted to protect you. I was scared for you when you left, so I followed. I would think that was obvious, after everything we’ve been through. After I already told you that we’re in this together. And after...” Will’s attention snagged on something behind her. “Looks like someone besides me followed you, and he’s coming this way.”
ELEVEN
Will shoved Sylvie behind him and faced the man who strode toward them. This part of the deck was empty of others who might interfere at the moment. Could be the man had nothing to do with Sylvie, and Will was acting the fool—but he wasn’t going to take that chance.
The man, wearing a dark navy jacket, had the broad chest and thick neck of a marine. The stride of someone who never lost a battle. He watched the mountains beyond them as though interested in the scenery, except his eyes flicked to Sylvie. One time. That was all it took to telegraph his intentions. A tall, skinny woman strolled along the railing with a video camera, heading their way. If the man was going to strike, it would be now, before anyone else approached and got in the way.
Sylvie tugged at him, tried coming around from behind him. He knew she didn’t want him to get hurt, but Will stood his ground, protecting her if the man was bent on harm. As he closed in on them, strolling along as if he was simply riding the ferry back to Washington, Will braced himself for what was to come. The truth was always there in the eyes, just like it was in this man’s eyes now. This wasn’t the guy from the hospital, but he read the man’s intentions all the same—his sheer determination to kill Sylvie.
This scene had become all too familiar.
“Will.” Sylvie fought him now, making his task more difficult. “This is why I wanted to leave you!”
The man approached quickly, lifting his arm from beneath his jacket, leaving Will only a millisecond to respond. He lunged, forcing the man’s weapon-wielding hand down. A bullet fired off, hitting the water to the left. Screams erupted from elsewhere on the ferry. The woman with the camera began shouting for others to come and assist, while she filmed the whole thing.
Who was Sylvie that someone would risk killing her on a ferry in the middle of the water, leaving the attacker no escape, nowhere to run? Her killers were becoming more desperate.
Will’s muscles strained as he held the man off. He grunted with the effort. “Who. Are. You? What do you want?”
If Will could hold the man in this position long enough, the ferry security guard would arrive and detain him. They could get to the bottom of this, but the man broke free. Will landed a punch square to his jaw. The weapon dropped to the water.
To Will’s astonishment, the attacker climbed over the rail and jumped into the cold waters of the channel, a good drop from the deck of the ferry.
Will wanted to follow him. Sylvie grabbed him. “Will, no! Are you crazy?”
Adrenaline coursed through him as he started over, determined to swim after the man and beat the truth from him. End this for Sylvie. Men flanked him and pulled him back. One of them was a security guard.
They all watched in silence as the guilty party swam away. In the distance, a boat appeared. Was that the same boat that had been waiting where Sylvie had been attacked beneath the water?
“Aren’t you going to do something?” Will asked the guard. “Follow him?” Will leaned over his thighs to catch his breath, his ribs throbbing. He hadn’t remembered being jabbed there.
“We’ll call the Coast Guard.”
“I taped the whole thing,” the woman with the camera said. “You can see if you can identify him.”
The security guard thanked her.
Will pushed himself upright and looked into Sylvie’s tormented eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Me? I’m fine. You’re the one who’s hurt. Why do you keep doing this? Showing up and standing between me and the bad guys?”
He would have expected gratitude, but all he saw in her eyes was anger. “And what if I hadn’t been here? What if I hadn’t come this time? Where would you be? Could you have fought that guy?”
“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me, but you’re right, Will. I can’t do this alone.”
The security guard escorted Will and Sylvie to a room where a nurse saw to Will’s injuries—a bruised rib, she determined—and the security officer, a retired police officer out of Sitka, questioned them. Sylvie explained that the Alaska State Troopers were investigating, and would need to be informed of the latest incident. At least the woman had documented what happened for them.
When they were left alone in the sparse and economical office, Will watched Sylvie stare out the window and hug herself. Her hazel eyes had lost their shimmer. That cut him to the bone.
“Did you recognize that guy?” he asked.
“No. Like I told the police, and you and Chief Winters, the guy in the hospital, he was the diver who came at me. I only saw his eyes behind his mask, but I could never forget them. But this guy, nope. If I had recognized him, I would have gone for help immediately once I saw him.”
“So Diverman was at the hospital, and maybe this guy was Rifleman, the man who was on the island and shot at you and my plane. We need to see if the police will put you in a safe house until they resolve this.”
She gave a scoffing laugh. “Which police, Will? The jurisdiction is all over the place. Besides, I think this originated outside Alaska, and I’m heading back to Seattle. I can talk to someone there.”
“I’ve always had the feeling you knew more than you were saying, Sylvie. Now would be a good time to tell me what you do know. Tell me everything.”
Sylvie flinched but didn’t answer. She liked to think before she responded. He’d give her a few moments. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, Will shoved to his feet and approached. From behind her, he watched out the window, as well. Everything looked so gray and hopeless. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around her, hold her, chase the darkness away. He wouldn’t get the answers he wanted, couldn’t hang around long enough to protect her, if he scared her away by trying to force her to comply. Force her to answer.
Will couldn’t help himself and lifted his hand. Indecision kept it hovering above her shoulder, then finally, he let it drop on the soft threads of her navy fleece hoodie. She tensed then relaxed. He thought she might even lean into him as she’d done on the deck when he’d first revealed himself.
She exhaled and slowly turned. Facing him, she was much too close. He let his gaze take in the face he had once thought not quite pretty, but he’d changed his mind so quickly. Once he got to know her and saw her inner strength—that light shining from within that poured from her eyes and her smile—she became the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
He’d let his hand drop from her shoulder, but now both hands rubbed her arms. More reassurance? He wasn’t sure, but his hands had a mind of their own, and he let them. He was rewarded when he coaxed the smallest of smiles into her drawn face.
“I’ll tell you everything I know, Will. I’m sorry. I sh
ould have trusted you completely. It seemed too private, too personal, and I wasn’t sure about any of it. Wasn’t sure I wanted to share my family secrets. But now I know what I want to do, and where I want to go.”
“I’m listening.”
“I want to go home. To my mother’s home where she lived with Damon, my stepfather. The house where I grew up. In my last conversation with her, she was running scared. She called to warn me to watch my back, and said she would tell me more when she got to Mountain Cove. Then she told me that she loved me. Something in her tone made it sound like she was telling me in case she never got the chance to say it again.”
“Do you have any idea who might have scared her that badly?” Will asked gently.
“My stepfather. Damon cheated on my mother,” she replied. “A lot. I don’t understand why she didn’t just leave, but he had power over her to keep her. I think she was scared of him, too. She brought up his name in her voice mail but didn’t finish what she was going to say. Regardless, it seems she finally freed herself or got the courage to leave. But that’s why she went to Mountain Cove. He would never think to follow her there in a million years. And she would never go there except to get away from him.”
Sylvie pressed her face into her hands.
Will gave her time to compose herself.
She dropped her hands and moved to sit in the chair. “As soon as I heard that she had died in a plane crash, I listened to her message again. Then I heard it for what it was. She was running scared. Tried to warn me. I knew I had to find that plane so that I could know if someone had murdered her.”
“Then men showed up to silence you.”
“And I knew then. I mean, you and I were running scared and it took me some time to come to grips with it, but deep down, I knew.”
“How did you find out about the plane crash, her death, if your mother was able to keep her whereabouts a secret from your stepfather? Who knew she’d gotten on that plane? Even I didn’t know. She was the surprise package. My mother made her living delivering unscheduled passengers and surprises to the bush.”
Alaskan Mountain Pursuit Page 10
