Baited

by Crystal Green

  Carry something to tap that shark on the snout if it gets feisty with you.

  Kat’s chest was aching, the lack of air tearing her lungs apart. But they were so close to the surface. She could even see arms reaching toward them, warped by the wavering water above.

  Three feet…Two…O…

  She pushed Chris upward with all her might, expelling almost all of her oxygen. He flew away from her, carried off by the crew.

  What happened next took place in the bang of a heartbeat. In what seemed like a soundless experimental movie, she could see Tinkerbell with her dark skin and red hair, her mouth opened in what looked like a frenzied yell. Will was on the other side of her, reaching for Kat, reaching…

  Something bumped against her leg.

  Kat couldn’t stop herself. She looked.

  God help me, help me…

  As the shark circled to her right, Kat tried not to thrash around, to play the victim…the meal.

  But its back was arched, its pectoral fins lowered.

  A pose of agitation.

  She hadn’t brought anything like a shark billyclub, something to pop it with and let it know she wasn’t a snack. All she had were her fists, a knife…

  …and a second chance.

  As the creature opened its mouth, rows of spired teeth gleamed.

  Just…

  Kat’s body tensed.

  Do…

  She readied herself.

  It…

  With the last of her energy and breath, she grasped through the water and sprang toward the outstretched hands awaiting her.

  Will was the first to grab her, flinging her out of the water with a sucking splash and pinning her to the deck.

  “Here it—” began Shaw from the flying bridge.

  But he didn’t finish.

  “…goes!” Tinkerbell completed the sentence for Shaw. “Look at that! Ten Speed isn’t interested anymore, the fickle freak.”

  Heaving breath into her lungs, Kat succumbed to the sky whirling above her, closing her eyes and hugging her knees to her chest as Will rolled away from on top of her. Bright lights flashed over her eyelids, freezing her brain, burning her chest. The strange whistling technique she used during her pearl dives provided rhythm, solace. The shallow breaths protected her heart and lungs.

  “You’re damned lucky,” Will ground out.

  Even though he was mightily ticked off, Kat knew he was relieved. She could hear it in the way he breathed, feel it the way he stayed next to her, touching her back. Joy welled—joy at being alive, joy at touching him again.

  “As soon as we get you checked out,” he added under his breath, “we’ve got to deal with some nasty stuff.”

  Panting, Kat managed to ask, “What do you…?” She couldn’t continue.

  “I think the cage’s lifeline might’ve been cut.”

  Chapter 6

  They were all seated around the dining table, most of the crew standing against the walls. Kat and Chris were wrapped in a blanket, his head resting on her shoulder. He hadn’t left her for a minute, even while Wayne the medic efficiently looked her over and pronounced her “fit as a fiddle” in his countrified drawl.

  Although Kat was wracked by shivers more mental than physical, she didn’t pay much attention to that. Chris seemed in much worse shape. His body was drawn raggedly tight like a quivering string on a bow that was ready to break. Instead of talking, the poor kid stared, mouth taut, his victim’s gaze a thousand miles away.

  The boy refused to go near anyone except her and Duke. And when Kat had tried to find out the reason, he’d only shaken his head, never answering.

  Something was going on, and Kat was on the outside. But she wasn’t the only one who was suspicious, especially after she’d told Will about everything that’d happened last night.

  “We’re going home,” he announced now, as he stood at the head of the table. “I’m getting this boat back to U.S. territory as soon as possible.”

  Louis gestured toward the shredded lifeline that was lying on the wood. “I don’t feel safe out here, either.”

  The edges of the room puckered with the tensing bodies of the crew members. Larry elbowed Tinkerbell, as if saying, “I told you we’d get the brunt of this.”

  Duke, from his spot next to Will, managed to pick up the rope and inspect the end of it with quivering hands. A tiny, clean cut led to an explosion of frayed, reddened fibers.

  “Mr. Delacroix,” Will said, jaw tight as he leaned over the table toward Louis, “I’m sure I don’t have to say it again, but I will. I inspected the rig, just as I always do, before it went in the water. The cage was left alone for only minutes as Larry and Tink went to see what was going down when Duke came out in his wet suit. There was no way they could predict that someone would start slicing the rope…and rub chum on it.”

  Kat carefully looked at each face in the salon. No one reacted out-of-line. There were just your basic raised eyebrows and opened mouths at this last bit of news. No indication of guilt from anyone.

  So who’d done it?

  A terrible thought rose from her worst fears: was Will grasping at straws to save his reputation? Was he trying to avert guilt and keep the job that provided so many connections for him to “get back into the game”? Was he blaming someone else for his failure to keep his guests safe?

  Come on, she chided herself. Don’t be ridiculous.

  “Chum?” Duffy asked, the skin around his wounded eye a palette of angry colors. “Maybe the rope dragged through the blood and guts out in that water.”

  “You’re right,” Will said, standing back up, shrugging. “It could’ve happened. Then again, maybe someone wanted to increase the odds that a shark would taste-test the rope, insuring that the strands would be torn the rest of the way when the shark yanked at it. That tiny cut wasn’t enough to do all the damage itself. But…I know. That’s a lot of what-ifs. That’s also a lot of desperation, and who in this room could possibly feel that way—especially after what happened last night?” Will leveled a glare at the Delacroix family. “Who thought Duke was getting into that cage and could’ve set him up to die before he could change his will?”

  His accusation was out in the open, wobbling like a compass needle that was searching out a culprit.

  Louis gave Will a measuring glance. “Do you hear yourself, Captain?”

  Maybe it was because of the stress. Maybe it was…something else. Whatever caused it, Will lost his temper and grabbed Louis by the starched collar, heaving him off the chair and up to his reddening face.

  “Do you remember what happened?” he asked. “Let me remind you. Kat had to dive for Chris while a shark was still lolling around. Something or someone—accident or not—made that cut in the rope, sir.”

  Louis frantically grasped at Will’s hands to free himself, his face still slack with surprise. Will shook the man once, making his point before he thrust the patriarch into his chair. Then, with a plastic smile, he backed off.

  “Sorry,” Will said through his teeth. “I’m sure you’re just as upset.”

  Pride, Kat thought, pulse racing, heart breaking under the small cracks of her doubts about the man she’d loved.

  Temper.

  Alexandra, of all people, coolly interrupted. “We’re all grateful for what Katsu did to save Chris.”

  Kat blinked, taken aback. While the rest of the family seized Alexandra’s cue and thanked Kat, Chris’s body tensed even more.

  But then Kat noticed Duffy glowering at her, his black eye glowing in a slant of wan light, and she came back to earth. Yeah, he seemed to be saying, you’re a big hero, Kat.

  Louis kept quiet, his eyes on Will and no one else as the captain spoke to Duke.

  “We’ll talk about refunds later, Mr. Harrington, but I’d like to get this boat turned around.”

  “There’s no chance of staying?” Duke asked.

  He sounded so sad, as if, in spite of what had happened with the cage, he still held out hope his f
amily would come around.

  Didn’t he realize that he could’ve been a possible victim today? The saboteur could’ve made that cut after they found out Duke was planning to dive.

  Or maybe Chris, the beneficiary of ninety-five percent of Duke’s holdings, really had been the target….

  Kat slid her arm around his shoulders, only to feel the slight tremors holding his body together.

  And maybe Chris damned well knew that already.

  Will was shaking his head in response to Duke’s question. He lingered next to Louis, a silent intimidator.

  “We can’t risk that there’s someone on this boat with such total disregard for human life. Pretending that nothing happened and continuing this idyllic trip isn’t even an option.”

  Nestor raised his hand to speak, probably afraid of Will now. “Who’s to say that this person won’t try something on the way back?”

  “That’s a problem I’ve been mulling over.” Will eased the rope away from Duke and inspected the damage, driving home the need for caution. “There’s an airstrip on Guadalupe Island. It’s a Mexican wildlife preserve, so we could arrange transportation that way.”

  “No,” Eloise said. “I can see us all taking separate planes back home and never speaking again. Father?”

  A feeble Duke was slumped in his chair, looking like he’d lost his final battle already. Kat could understand—all his plans to see if his family really loved him had failed.

  “Yes, Elle?” he asked. There was still a heartbreaking nimbus surrounding his words.

  “Maybe—” his social-matron daughter smiled tearfully “—we could sort everything out on the long trip back. Nobody in the Delacroix family would leave this room until we’ve resolved every issue. We would never do anything to hurt you or Chris. You need to believe us.”

  Even though Eloise’s plan would keep all the likely suspects in the same place and out of trouble, Kat thought it was a real weird way to deal with an attempted murder.

  “Mom—” Duffy began.

  Eloise choked him off with a glare so forceful that her son actually flinched. The room froze with the heat of it.

  “Your grandfather needs us,” she ground out.

  Quietly, Will motioned his crew and everyone who wasn’t a Delacroix to exit the salon. On the way out, though, he stopped to whisper something to Shaw, the first officer, who gave a gruff nod and stayed in the room.

  A watchdog, Kat thought. She’d be watching, too, unless this was all just an exercise in paranoia. Was it?

  As she rose from her chair, Chris did, too.

  “You need to stay here,” she said.

  “Kat—” He was scared to death.

  “Hey, Chris?” It was Duke, holding open his arms, welcoming his cowed grandson.

  Reluctantly, Chris went to him, sat next to his grandfather and avoided looking at the Delacroixs.

  When Duke sent Kat a beseeching glance, also, she shook her head, continuing out of the salon. In the dark part of her mind, she saw money falling from the gray sky, just out of her reach, resting on the waves of an ocean that would carry it away forever.

  But that was okay, she told herself as she left. She didn’t need wealth.

  She risked one last peek at Duke to reassure him. He seemed so much smaller and more fragile now than the larger-than-life man of story. But at least Chris was nestled, like a support beam, in the crook of Duke’s arm.

  They’d be fine without her.

  Still, as she headed away from Will, who’d gone to the bridge, she couldn’t help guessing what was being said in the salon. Were the Delacroixs going to offer the ultimate snow job to Duke? How far would they go to secure their inheritance and convince him that they loved him?

  Hell, all Kat knew was that there was a good chance that someone had gone too far this morning.

  But…God. The enormity of what had happened finally hit her—a giant fist mashing into her stomach and leaving her breathless.

  Chris in the cage. The shark.

  How could anyone do it? Was there actually someone on this boat who hated Duke or Chris so much that they would arrange a terrible death for them?

  Was it one of the Delacroixs with their appetite for money? Duffy, Nestor and Louis had been late in joining the crowd this morning. They would’ve had time to mess with the cage after hearing about Duke’s planned dive.

  Or was it someone who wasn’t so obvious?

  Unbidden, the memories came back: Will flirting with Alexandra. Will losing his temper with Louis.

  Then, just as if Kat was looking at an extension of that memory underwater, where her view was bent and surreal, she saw how it could’ve played out:

  Will, whispering with Alexandra…making a tiny cut to the rope and slathering it with chum…assuring Larry and Tinkerbell that the equipment was secure…confronting Duke about going in the water just to throw off suspicion, then…

  Alexandra’s chess-queen expression.

  In her rampant imagination, Kat saw the future, where Alexandra cried at Duke’s funeral, then wrote a check to Will for his troubles. A big check. A check that would guarantee a fresh start for Will and his family. Maybe she had even promised to introduce him into her social circles…

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  It was Dr. Janelle Hopkins, lounging on a chair, one ankle resting on the opposite knee as she lay beneath a sky that was growing darker by the moment, riddled with heavy clouds. They’d already turned around, headed back to San Diego, and water chopped against the boat as if trying to grab on to them but losing hold.

  Kat tried to play it off as if her thoughts weren’t even worth a penny. But, truthfully, her doubts about Will had throttled her to the core. Especially since she realized that it was her doubt doing all the mental dirty work. Doubt raised by their breakup and the question of how well she’d really known Will after all.

  She sat in a chair next to the doctor, and the other woman gestured toward the main cabin. Hugh, the steward, was loitering outside, as if watching them.

  “Did you notice,” Hopkins said, “that the captain left Shaw in the room? He’s the security guard, I imagine.”

  “Making sure no one cuts another family member’s throat. Yeah, I noticed. And I see we’ve got our own cop. But I have to admit—it’s not a bad idea to have someone keeping an eye on everyone. It’s that or the plane, and I know Duke will argue against that until he gets his way.”

  “True enough, Don’t you think that family’s a little slippery, even someone as harmless as Nestor?”

  Why did the doc think the culprit might be a Delacroix?

  Kat scanned the doctor’s open body language, remembering all the signs of attraction between Janelle and Nestor.

  “Why have you been…well, getting to know him?” Kat asked.

  Janelle laughed a little, more the naughty flirt Kat had hung out with yesterday. “You mean in the Biblical sense?”

  Ah-ha.

  Now, Janelle’s laugh was amused. “You saw it coming a mile away, Kat. I know you did. And, in my opinion, it’s a hell of a lot more comforting to talk about this than…”

  No need to say it. Kat nodded in understanding.

  “Anyway,” Janelle said, “it was just a ‘thang.’ He was wrung-out after the blowup last night, I was around, and we got to drinking, then…” She made an “oops” gesture. “You know.”

  “Yeah,” Kat said, having very little one-night-stand experience to draw upon on, herself. Her post-Will love life found her preferring surfing to dating. Lots less trouble.

  “What can I say?” Absently, Janelle rubbed a finger over her dusky complexion. “He’s charming, fun and so very temporary. And he was willing to slum a little.”

  “Slumming? With you?”

  “Kat.”

  Janelle didn’t have to explain. She wasn’t in Nestor’s social set. It was a story Kat knew well. But the doctor didn’t seem to take as much offense as Kat always had.

  The doctor lean
ed forward, lowering her voice. “You take the opportunities where they come, right?”

  “Sure.”

  As Janelle leaned back and closed her eyes, she started giving Kat more details.

  But she wasn’t listening. Rather, Kat was thinking about the events in the salon. Wondering when she’d hear about the outcome of the big talk.

  As it would turn out, the nightmare started before that could actually happen.

  Thankfully the Delacroixs stayed in the salon for hours, taking dinner there, talking into the night. Once, when Kat passed the door to see if they were almost done, she heard laughter, and even though she was happy for Duke to know they were making headway, she was also unable to stop errant thoughts about more dollar bills falling just out of her grasp.

  She hated herself for that. Ultimately, she tried to sleep in her cabin, rocked by waves that seemed to be increasing in power and anger. Waves that churned inside her.

  For what seemed like hours, she lay without closing her eyes. But then…then everything fell apart with the sudden smash of a head-on road accident.

  Something crashed against the boat, a watery anvil jarring her out of the berth and to the floor.

  The room seemed to tilt on its side, wind wailing, the boat yawwwing like the doors of all the dark abandoned houses neighborhood children were too afraid to visit.

  Kat sprang to her feet, aiming herself toward the wall where an orange life jacket swung back and forth.

  Storm, she thought. Much worse than last night…

  The boat violently pitched upward, then hammered down, practically taking the floor out from beneath her bare feet. Pulse sputtering, she managed to slip into her shorts and light tennis shoes and secure her life jacket over her body. Chest tight with anxiety, she found herself weaving to the door.

  The hallway seemed to be swaying on the same rollers as her cabin. The lights bursting on and off were like some demented Morse code pattern. Another door flew open, and Dr. Hopkins, life jacket in hand, tumbled into the hall.

  Maybe I did fall asleep and I’m dreaming, Kat thought.

  Then—even later, Kat wasn’t sure what happened next. She could only recall a monstrous keening sound, a thousand women crying at the top of their lungs.