by R. T. Wolfe
Chairs lined the sides under the canopy with a few more in the bow. She had two coolers, one in the front and one in back, stocked with bottles of water and sports drinks. The extra waste can for recycling was a personal addition of hers.
The business was part of what killed her brother. She had been so wrapped up in Sun Trips she forgot about her family, left behind anything resembling a love life, and left her inexperienced brother without a diving partner. He died alone. Never again would she captain a scuba dive.
A recent habit she picked up, Zoe rubbed the sides of her neck as if they still hurt from the attack. Could one of these customers be the one who broke into her parents' home? It was a question she silently asked herself during each tour she captained.
"My name is Zoe Clearwater, and I'll be leading your tour today. Please feel free to sit anywhere. There's room up front if you'd like some sun." Ten passengers on both her morning and afternoon tours. Capacity. She scanned the faces of each man, memorizing them. Judging their size, their build.
"Please take notice of the life jackets, ring, and fire extinguisher. You don't need to know how to use them, just where they're located. Thank you. We're going to stroll out, first to a favorite spot the dolphins like to play at this time of day. Please ask any questions you think of. I'm here to help."
The lull of the engine was therapy. It soothed her as much as she was convinced it did for the tourists as well. Although brilliantly sunny, the wind was breezy, the water choppy. The clean air refreshed her face. She dipped her beloved straw cowboy hat over her brows and tightened the chinstrap as she pumped Banana Pancakes through the speakers and picked up speed.
Some undressed to their swimsuits. Some held their arms out in front of them and took selfies with their phones along the railing. They seemed like a good enough crowd. A pair of semi-elderly folks and possibly their grown children and spouses? The woman from a random couple wore a suit right out of a porn film, but that was okay. This was Ibis Island, a place to come and let loose.
Zoe spotted them long before the tour group. A mother and her calf. And three adults further north. Today would be a good day.
Family. The pod was most likely family. Zoe imagined the mother dolphin as her sister Willow with her six-year-old Chloe and the three others as Seth, Raine, and herself. They'd been that way once, hadn't they? Carefree, playing in and around the island they called home.
She didn't announce the sight of them, and instead let the group discover their presence as she slowed the boat and flanked the female and infant. A few 'Ooos' and 'Awws' alerted the rest of the group to which side of the boat they should watch. "This is a mother and her calf. The infant looks to be about a year old and will stay with the mother for approximately five years." They took pictures and video clips with their phones, watching the water in all the wrong places for an arching body or a fin.
"If you look, you can see spots where the water looks like a large glass plate. The area will be smooth, unlike the choppy water around it. Those are the spots to watch." She would keep them here for about fifteen minutes or until some of the guests lost interest and sat back in their chairs. So, she killed the engine.
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. Anyone that knew her knew she was out on a tour. She didn't answer.
Chapter 5
The adult dolphins were active, playful, and jumped completely out of the water. It made Zoe smile as much as the first time she'd seen it. Starting the boat, she inched closer to them, letting the group get a better look.
Her phone buzzed again. It could be Dane. An emergency? He would page her on the walkie. She decided to ignore it again.
After longer than she'd planned, she moved the group along. "Let's head out to the sandbar. On the way we'll get a good look at one of the last fisheries in the Gulf of Mexico, see some of the best places to eat, and check out the bird sanctuary."
Double buzz. The whoever left a message. She could check it when the group took a dip in the water at the sandbar.
Hordes of pelicans and shorebirds hung out on abandoned piers and half-sunken wooden boats. Some flew by close enough that Zoe could hear the rush of the wind beneath its wings. Irritated calls came from the birds that had to move over and give it room on the rotting planks.
As they passed the fishery, Zoe explained that men still went out for two weeks at a time, much like they did decades ago. One of the guys closer to Zoe's age took pictures of the weathered wood and rows of boats. Smart. Most tourists took shots of themselves standing in front of the open water. Not that those shots wouldn't be nice, but the ones that could hang on a wall were the ones of the wildlife, the aging piers, and the half-sunken boats.
She had a photo much like the one he was taking, blown up to wall-hanging size and hung in her home. It was one Seth had given her and was better than any store bought piece of art she'd found.
"The bird sanctuary is off limits to the public. Marine conservationists, permit holders, and biologists only. But that doesn't mean we can't get a closer look." She described the fish hawks that stalked like vultures. The red crested frigate birds as big as eagles that rested in clusters on the branches. "The area beneath us is called The Kitchen. Notice how large and shallow it is? The thick sea grasses carry more than ten kinds of fish all within striking distance for the birds."
Another buzz. This time it was the signal for a text. She was popular today.
She set the anchor and jumped out right into the muck of it. Gathering some of the sea grasses, she dug out a tiny starfish, setting it on the hand of an interested tourist. Digging through the slime, she found another, then another, and finally what she was looking for... a seahorse. "Take as many pictures as you'd like, then return them to the water, please. Thank you."
When she headed out further from Sun Trips pier, she picked a sand bar that wasn't already populated. She killed the engine and dropped the anchor once more. "We'll stay here for about a half hour. This is a good spot for a swim. There are sand dollars in this area. You'll feel them with your feet. Feel free to pick one, but only one, to take with you. You'll also find schools of smaller fish and probably some hermit crabs. And stay toward the front of the boat, please. Feel that current? I don't want to have to chase you down."
Several grabbed snorkels and masks and set out. The elderly mother stayed to watch. She smiled at Zoe and offered an explanation, although it wasn't necessary. "Don't quite have my sea legs anymore."
Gazing at the sand, Zoe imagined Luciana's treasure. An edge of a necklace sticking out of the sand. The rounded edge of a silver plate. A wave of sadness blew over her before she remembered her messages. She pulled out her phone and read the text.
The caller I.D. said St. Petersburg Police Department. 'zoe. i have something for you at the station. -Matt'
Finally. It lifted her mood enough that she straightened in her captain's chair. Had she been slouching?
As she thought of the photos on her camera, she kept an eye on the group, making sure they weren't veering off too far. The pictures she'd taken of Detective Osborne's maps would be invaluable to her search. If some murdered dude was still there after who knew how many years, she could certainly justify her search for evidence of what happened to her brother.
A hint of suspicion brushed by her like the wings of one of the swooping pelicans, blowing a few strands of her hair. Connections, possibilities. Like something was trying to get her attention, but she wouldn't let it. Couldn't let it.
"Miss, do you think my son could get an extra sand dollar for me?"
"Hmm?" Zoe turned her head to the woman. She was pretty. Her strong accent said England or Australia. "Of course." Zoe tried for her warmest smile. "If you let it dry out, then run bleach over it, it will turn the brightest color of white."
* * *
Dane waited for her tour boat to return. It was another Zoe Clearwater habit he'd picked up recently. Greg and Lilly leaned outside the door of the gift shop, waiting to check in the tourists after the
y docked. If it were one of them who captained the boat, sure, he'd wait to make sure the customers were happy and his equipment was intact. But with Zoe, he trusted her like he trusted his own hand.
Her signature straw cowboy hat dipped low over her forehead. It was to protect her face and neck from the sun, she always said. He thought it just looked sexy. She wore a bright pink tank that read, 'Sun Trips Touring' in purple block letters across the back. It was one of the older ones, from before she asked him to buy her out.
Customers were happy when they returned from a trip with Zoe. Comfortable, relaxed, satisfied. Her tips were ridiculously large. Yet, she put every penny in the community jar.
The money was good since they merged. He had enough to take a week, maybe a month, out to the spot off the coast of Australia he'd had his eye on. He'd been researching the sweet spot and was sure he could dig up a load. He sighed. The merger also meant nearly double the hours. And with the season picking up? He shook his head as the boat came closer.
Zoe's brown ponytail brushed her shoulder blades as she moved her head from one side to the other, answering customer's questions, laughing. She had the best laugh, deep and honest. He grimaced. He sure as hell wasn't making any trips until he found the bastard who laid his hands on her.
It had been almost a week, and his adrenaline still spiked when he thought of it just as much as the day he found out. Glancing down at his hands, they were bunched in tight fists. He loosened them as he headed toward his approaching pontoon. In an effort at casual, he greeted her like it was something he did regularly. Since she would know it wasn't, she eyed him with suspicion. He winked. She rolled her eyes. It was their custom.
Grabbing the bow, he released the twined rope and secured it to the pier. She let down the tiny bridge and thanked the tourists for using Sun Trips Touring, reminding them to take their sand dollars. Zoe and her sand dollars. The customers loved that kind of thing. How did she know this shit?
"How was it?" he asked as she straightened the deck and checked corners for anything left behind.
She may not be the stick figure she was in high school, but the muscles in her back and arms still held the definition of an active woman. He kept an eye on her as he helped stack chairs and adjust the blinds for the evening tour. She set her hat on her chair, pulled the band from her hair, and shook her head. Brown locks dipped over her shoulders in the slightest of waves. The sight wasn't a model posing for a photo shoot. It wasn't a woman trying to attract attention. It was quick and purposeful and took nearly every ounce of sense from his head and sent it south.
She stopped short when she noticed him watching her, noticed him staring. Her eyes darted toward the gift shop. He looked over his shoulder and noticed Lilly elbow Greg in the ribs and stifle a laugh with the back of her hand.
"Just loosening the dandruff," she snarled.
"They were a quiet group. Nice people," she added.
She bent over to get her bag, her hair falling around one of her tanned shoulders. A familiar scent of fresh salt water and honeysuckle blew into his lungs. She straightened and took a step toward the boat's mini pier. Those perky B cups—possibly C cups—nearly ran right into him.
Backing up, she sighed. "I need to make a run to St. Pete's and get back in time for the party cruise. Is there something I can do for you?"
He wiggled his brows up and down once.
"Nice try, Romeo." She huffed and skirted around him.
The blood must be coming back to his head, because he remembered. "Liam is on for the party cruise tonight."
"I'm taking his shift. He covered for me last weekend when you went behind my back and convinced my parents I could have a deathly case of the bends."
Liam wasn't the one who covered for her. "I told you we used your sick days."
She stopped her feet and twisted her head, looking as guilty as a kid who just hocked a candy bar from a corner drug store. "Keep your voice down. You helped me out with my boat. Thanks, okay? But we've already been seen together. It's hard enough to fit in around here."
"St. Pete's?" he asked ignoring her tirade. "You're going to see the cop?"
She walked around the back side of the gift shop to the break room door. His interest in her trip to St. Petersburg almost took his mind off the mention of the attack at her parents' house.
"I think my camera is ready," she said and slowed down, letting him catch up.
"I'm coming with you." He opened the door for her and stepped back.
She did that twisting her head thing again.
"That's right, Zoe," he said sarcastically. "We wouldn't want to be caught, two people who work here, alone in the common break room."
Quick as hell, she elbowed him as she passed. How did he not see that coming?
"You can come, but I'm not driving out of the parking lot with you again."
"You can't be serious."
She gave him her look that said she could be.
"Ya know." He stepped closer, making her back up against a wall. "If people are talking, we could give them something to talk about." He meant it as a joke, but the scent of her filled his head and fogged his mind. He knew his eyes had dropped to her lips, but he couldn't seem to get them to move.
The slightest tremble ran through her defined shoulders before she pushed him away with both hands. "It's not funny. You don't hear them."
His employees? They did that? "Okay. I'll meet you at your parents' restaurant, buy you a bite to eat, then we can leave from there together."
"I don't have time to eat, but I'll meet you there. I want to say 'hey' to the shrimp. Chloe's been hanging at the restaurant since she's out of school for the summer."
He knew this, of course. Willow's daughter was a younger version of her mom. Long dark blonde hair, knobby knees. The cutest kindergarten graduate there was. "It's a date."
"If you call it a date, you're not coming."
He tried to listen, really he did. But a stray lock of her silky hair eluded the rest and covered her shoulder. Using the tips of his fingers, he ran them from her collarbone and over the shoulder that was just as silky as the hair. It was the third time since she'd docked that he noticed her shiver in the warm Florida air.
* * *
Zoe made sure she drove this time. She needed to stay in control. They rode in her Jeep—her practical Jeep. She'd left the top down letting the Gulf breeze whip her ponytail and fill her senses. It was more soothing than any of the incense or chamomile tea her mother gave her. Gripping the steering wheel, she turned up her playlist. Little Pink Houses. I'm Yours. Easy, comfortable.
Dane hadn't spoken much on their forty-five minute drive to St. Petersburg. His sandy brown hair flipped around his face as he looked out the passenger side of the jeep on 275 north.
Her reaction to his proximity on the boat had been humiliating. And the break room? She could kick herself. He had been close, that was all. She'd been on her male moratorium for how long now? Since Seth's disappearance? Ouch. That was a secret no one needed to know about.
He was Dane Corbin. He used his looks to play the part of scuba diving expert and successful owner of the playful yet reliable Sun Trips Touring. His reputation as man slut and treasure hunter didn't hurt business, that she was sure of. He used it all in his favor. She could hardly blame him. That didn't mean she had to add herself to the list of girls who reacted to his proximity.
"Are you going to exit?" he raised his voice over the wind.
Oh shit. She checked her mirror and swerved. "Sorry about that. I was thinking about work tonight," she lied. "Do you know how many we have signed up? I did both the morning and afternoon snorkeling/eco tours and didn't get a chance to look."
"Five men, three women. All twenty-somethings." Then, he dropped his voice to almost a whisper. "Just make sure you don't anchor."
She knew this, of course. Sun Trips Touring let customers drink alcohol on their evening party boats, but no swimming.
Pulling into the closest spot
in the St. Petersburg Police Department lot, she set her mind to the pictures on her camera. She would have just enough time between cruises to take the photos from the detective's map and add the information to her own.
She grabbed her purse, then dropped her keys in the opening and slid down, skipping the running board and landing soundly on her feet. The bends, her ass.
"Come on, boss. I want to take a look at the pictures on my camera before work tonight. Do you think they left the one of the skull?" A fast wave of needles skittered from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet.
He shrugged and set his hand comfortably on the back of her elbow. They weren't standing in front of Sun Trips. It wasn't like he was trying to hold her hand or slide an arm around her, or worse yet, place his hand on her back. It was a sign of support, so she ignored her deprived hormones and accepted the platonic gesture as they entered the police department.
Stopping at reception, Zoe told the young man that Detective Osborne was expecting her. They sat in the nearest chairs. Dane shook his knee as they waited silently. What did he have to be nervous about?
The detective came out of the elevators looking expectantly in her direction. He paused when his eyes turned to Dane but not for long. In his hand, he held a thick manila envelope. Unfortunately, her camera was puny enough to actually fit into an envelope. She rocked on the balls of her feet, anxious to get to the pictures she took of his maps.
He extended his hand before fully reaching the two of them.
Dane took a small step in front of her and grabbed it. "Detective," he nodded as he shook.
