Quinn was impressed. Nick was smooth as butter when it came to conversing with the man who most likely meant harm to Rowan. Nick was smart above all else. He knew they couldn’t tip off Spencer, so he was calm and professional from start to finish.
“I would love to be part of the dive team you have going this go-around,” Spencer enthused. “I know that’s probably against the rules, but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least ask.”
Nick’s expression remained flat. “That’s really not possible. You have to be certified to dive.”
“I’m certified.”
“You have to be a divemaster,” Nick pressed. “The area we’re working in has shifting currents. Our people work in teams and can be under for no more than two hours at a time.”
“I’m a divemaster.”
Quinn’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re a divemaster? The training for that is quite extensive.”
For the first time since they’d met, Spencer showed a hint of annoyance. “Are you saying you don’t think I can pass the training?”
“That’s not what I said,” Quinn countered. “It’s just ... you run a big company. I wouldn’t think you have time for recreational diving.”
Irritation, faint as a whisper, cascaded over Spencer’s face. It built like a waterfall into a severe storm. “Everybody needs a hobby. Diving is mine. I make an excursion once a week in the waters surrounding Florida. Four times a year, I travel to other locations for difficult dives. Last year I was part of the group that found that former slave ship in Australia.”
Nick didn’t bother to hide his interest. “Really? That’s an important find.” He shifted on his chair. “I would need proof that you’re a divemaster before I could even consider letting you come with us. I apologize but ... my insurance provider was very clear.”
Spencer brightened considerably. “No. I get it. You can’t control that.” He dug in his pocket and came back with his wallet. “Here.”
Quinn watched as he flipped through until he found the item he was looking for. He raised the wallet and flashed it in Nick’s direction so the older man could easily see the card. “It’s good for another two years before I have to re-certify.”
“It certainly looks good,” Nick offered. “I think we can at least talk about including you. I can’t make any promises until I double check with the home office, though. I have to check every angle.”
Spencer waved off the statement and returned his wallet to his pocket. “I know about bureaucracy. It’s stupid. I’m sure you’ll figure it out, though.” He gestured toward the empty chair on the other side of Quinn. “Do you care if I join you?”
Nick remained polite, never hesitating. “Of course not. I would have it no other way.”
13
Thirteen
“There was another name on his divemaster certification,” Quinn announced when he and Rowan escaped the dining room.
She was taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the name listed on his certification was Alexander Fletcher, not Leon Spencer.”
Rowan had learned a lot about his investigative process since they hooked up. She wasn’t sure what this development meant, though. “So ... what do we do?”
Quinn handed her the box containing their cheesecake goodness when they reached the corridor that led to the employee quarters and retrieved his keycard. “It means he’s lying about his name.”
“But ... you researched him. You found a backstory for Leon Spencer.”
“I did. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t fabricated.”
“Oh.” Realization dawned. “You think he did the same thing as Nick and Dad. They managed to pay for new identities that withstand scrutiny. If it was a lazy job, you would’ve already figured that out.”
He bobbed his head. “Exactly. You’re a smart girl.” He playfully tapped the end of her nose. “We just need to figure out how he did it, why he did it, and who Alexander Fletcher is.”
“Any ideas on how to do that?”
“A few.”
“Does one of them included dragging Fred away from his harem?”
Quinn choked on a laugh. “Actually, I don’t think anything could drag him away this evening. He needs a break anyway. I’m going to start a search. Hopefully, by morning, we’ll have some answers.”
Rowan couldn’t contain her disappointment. “Do you really think it will take that long? I was hoping we could get something to move on tonight.”
Quinn understood the need for instant gratification. “Alexander Fletcher has to be a common name,” he reminded her. “I need to build a list of things to weed out as many of them as we can. That means the computer is going to need to work while we ... do other things.”
Rowan knew exactly what he was referring to when he mentioned “other things” and smiled. “Cheesecake and The Golden Girls?”
He chuckled, delighted. “No horror movies tonight?”
“No. Not tonight.”
He understood. “The Golden Girls it is. I’ll set up the search and then we’ll dig in.”
To Rowan, that sounded heavenly.
IT TOOK HIM A FULL HOUR TO SET up the search to his liking.
“So, what exactly did you ask it to search for?” Rowan queried.
“Men between their fifties and seventies for starters.”
Rowan frowned. “That’s a big age group. Wouldn’t it make more sense to narrow it down to fifties? That’s how old Michael is, right? They pledged a fraternity together.”
“I just want to be sure. The ones within two years of Michael — and don’t ever tell him you pegged his age in his fifties because he’ll be crushed — will receive a higher priority rating in the results.”
It all sounded very complicated to Rowan. “What else?”
“Florida ties. He went to school with Michael. It’s doubtful he picked that specific school if he wasn’t from the state.”
“That makes sense. What else?”
“Money. He has his own business. That wasn’t cheap to set up. The vehicles I found listed for Leon Spencer were of the expensive variety. He had to at least start making money when he was still Alexander Fletcher. Besides, that specific diving certification card is only good for five years. If he got it under the name Alexander Fletcher, that makes me believe he was living under that name at least three years ago. He said he had two years until re-certification.”
“Oh, smart,” Rowan enthused. “Is there anything you can track with the diving itself?”
He beamed at her. “See, you’re thinking like an investigator already. Good girl.” He swooped in and gave her a kiss before gesturing for the cheesecake box. “I’m ready for dessert.”
She jutted out her lower lip. “And here I thought I was going to be your dessert.”
“Oh, trust me, you’re the main event. I still want the chocolate syrup.”
Even though she was convinced she would never have an appetite again given the amount of food she’d put away over dinner, Rowan found she wholeheartedly agreed. “Good idea. Tell me how the diving plays in.”
“That dive in Australia was too specific. He made a mistake letting that slip. I can easily track it and Nick has the contacts to talk to the dive leader. I would be surprised if he didn’t place that call tonight. You saw the look on his face, right? He was excited about the things Spencer let drop.”
“Do you think he noticed the name on the card?”
“I don’t know. I texted him just in case. I think the diving is going to be Spencer’s undoing.”
Rowan could read the excitement on Quinn’s face. He was almost bubbling over. That led her to ask the obvious question. “If it’s so easy to track him through the diving activities, why would he tell us about them? Why slip up like that? Maybe it’s a trap of some sort.”
“I’m not ruling that out,” Quinn conceded. “He was ridiculously chatty. I still think it was simply a mistake on h
is part. He’s enthusiastic about the diving. He couldn’t stop himself from bragging. It’s the same way you get when someone mentions crab legs.”
Rowan snorted. “I like to think I’m a bit more restrained than that.”
“You’re cute. You’re not restrained, though. You forget where you are, get a dreamy look on your face, and completely forget your manners. Luckily, I find it cute when you’re stuffing your face. Others might not be as enamored as me.
“Spencer obviously forgot his audience,” he continued. “He’s here for a specific purpose. News of the El Demonio team being on the ship is too much for him to ignore, though. He thinks he’s smarter than us. He thinks he can maintain control over us. He has no idea how wrong he is.”
Rowan grinned at the gleam in Quinn’s eyes. “You’re feeling better. I’m glad. I don’t want you dwelling on this too much.”
His smile slipped. “I’m not going to let it happen.”
“I kind of can’t stop myself from dwelling on it.” She was sheepish. “I mean ... it’s almost as if I can hear a clock ticking in the back of my head. I’m afraid.” Her voice quavered at the admission.
“I know you are.” He took the cheesecake box from her and rested it on top of the comforter before slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her tight. “I’m afraid, too.”
“You are? You don’t seem afraid.”
“You don’t think I’m afraid that I won’t be fast enough, or smart enough, to head off whatever this is? Well, you’re wrong. Do you know what I keep reminding myself, though?”
“What?” She was genuinely curious. “Maybe, if you tell me, it will help.”
That’s exactly what he hoped would happen. “I keep thinking about all the other danger you’ve been in. How many times do you think an omen would’ve shown up on your photos in those situations?”
Rowan worked her jaw. She’d never really thought about it. “A few.”
“A few?” He cocked a dubious eyebrow. “You’ve found trouble so many times I’ve lost count. We’re talking big trouble, too. We’re talking knives ... and guns ... and megalomaniacs ... and psychopaths ... and sociopaths. You’ve overcome all those things.”
“And we did it without the warning,” Rowan mused, understanding dawning. “We made it out of all those situations and we didn’t know to be careful. This time we know to be careful.”
“We do. Although ... I don’t know that we’re better off knowing. I mean, I’m grateful we know. For this particular instance, I’m particularly glad. However, I think it somehow makes things worse. Knowing brings fear. Now, fear is a great motivator. It’s one of those things that can cause people to do the extraordinary. It can also freeze you.”
Rowan turned sheepish. “That’s what you think it’s doing to me, right? Freezing me.”
“I think that’s what it did to you that first day,” he clarified. “No one expects you to be Wonder Woman but you — although I wouldn’t mind if we played that game, including outfits, one night — and what you learned yesterday leveled you. It would’ve done the same to me.”
“Really? How would you have reacted?”
“I don’t know. I’ve thought about that a great deal. I had a lot of time on my hands since you passed out at eight last night.”
Rowan pursed her lips. “I’m a lame drunk.”
“You are ... extraordinary on every level. Drinking might not be your forte, though.”
“That’s a polite way of saying I was being ridiculous.”
“You were thrown.” He hated when she disparaged herself. “Anyone would’ve been. We’re stronger when we work as a team, though. I get why you were considering keeping the information to yourself. If you only had limited time left, you wanted it to be a happy time.
“I refuse to accept that,” he continued. “We’re meant to spend a lifetime together. I believe that here.” He tapped his heart. “I need you to believe it, too. If you believe, we’ll both get what we want.”
“That seems like a roundabout way of thinking.”
“Something tells me you’re going to agree once I get out the chocolate sauce. I have ways of making you see things my way.”
“A sugar buzz?”
He snorted. “Let’s see, huh?”
“Okay. Just so you know, though, I’m probably going to wear you out after.”
“Oh, no, sweetie. I’m going to wear you out.”
“Let the games begin.”
IN THE END, ROWAN WAS DEFINITELY the one worn out. She conked out before ten, chocolate sauce still smeared on her cheeks. Quinn didn’t bother trying to clean her up. The housekeeping staff was collecting the sheets the next day anyway. It would be fine. Besides, after the previous night, she needed the sleep. It was good for her.
Because he didn’t need sleep, and he was antsy, he pulled out his computer to check on the searches. Surprisingly, there was already one solid match ... and he was beyond intrigued.
“And what do we have here?” he murmured, checking himself when he remembered Rowan was passed out beside him. He took a moment to check on her, pulling up the blanket to make sure her bare shoulder was covered. She looked like an angel and he had every intention of repeating cheesecake night at least once a month for the rest of their lives. He didn’t even mind The Golden Girls.
Once he was assured that Rowan was indeed down for the count, he turned back to his search. He had every intention of digging as deep as possible tonight. He wanted to wake her with answers and a firm plan. Whether that was possible, he didn’t know. He would do his best.
She needed it and he needed her.
THE NEXT MORNING, ROWAN LAUGHED when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was standing on end — some of the flavored sauces somehow ending up in the endless waves that cascaded around her shoulders — and there were smears on her cheeks and lips.
“You must be falling in love with me all over again,” she teased, swiping at her cheek. “Wow. This stuff is really caked on.”
“Shower.” Quinn pointed her toward the stall. “We don’t have a lot of time. I called a breakfast meeting in the conference room. Food is being delivered. We have to be there in thirty minutes.”
The news surprised her. “Did you find something?”
“I found ... several things,” he clarified. “I’ll tell you with everyone else over breakfast.”
Rowan turned pouty. “I want to know now.”
“Yes, well, even you can’t get everything you want.” He tickled her ribs, causing her to squeal as he prodded her toward the shower. “Almost everything, but not everything. If I give in to your every whim, you’ll get spoiled.”
“And what’s so wrong with that?”
“Nothing ... but I would prefer going over the information only once. We land in port today. That means we’re going to have to deal with more chaos than usual.”
“Fair enough. I’m going to expect you to spoil me again tonight to make up for it, though.”
“Consider it done.”
DAVE, NICK, PAUL, AND FRED were prompt for the meeting. Dave insisted he would inform his men of the developments after the fact — apparently they were out late because they didn’t have Rowan duty — and Quinn was too harried to put up a fight.
“So, Leon Spencer isn’t a real person.” He ran through what he’d discovered the previous evening, leaving nothing out. He was succinct, and when he was finished, everyone had perked up some.
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Fred drawled. “When do you think he changed his name?”
“The dive card is three years old. He said it lapses in two years. That means he was going by Alexander Fletcher as recently as three years ago.”
“He clearly got excited about the prospect of the dive,” Fred noted. “He made a mistake. That benefits us. Have you tracked anything down about this Australian dive? It must be a big deal if he mentioned it.”
“Oh, it’s definitely a big deal,” Nick confirmed. �
�That dive made news all over the world. Even the mainstream media picked up on it. It was a significant find.”
“Do you know the people involved with that project?” Rowan queried. “Can they give you the lowdown on this guy?”
“I’ve already placed a call. I’m hoping they will get back to me in a few hours.”
“It’s a good lead,” Fred supplied. “It’s still a common name. I’m assuming you’ve already started a search.”
“I have,” Quinn agreed. “There are three possibilities. I’ve weeded out most of the rest. The one I’m leaning toward is Alexander Fletcher of Coral Gables. His parents were rich, to the point where he never needed to work a day in his life. He was independently wealthy from birth. His mother is gone now but his father isn’t … and the father is a millionaire fifty times over.”
“You must have more than the money tipping you toward him,” Paul prodded.
“This particular Alexander Fletcher was mentioned in a paranormal investigation blog because he funneled a million dollars into the exploration of a former South Carolina plantation that was supposedly haunted.”
“A million dollars?” Rowan made a face. “That’s a lot of money to throw away on something like that.”
“It is,” Quinn agreed. “The reason it was so noteworthy is because two of the crew members filming there died. The money was paid out on wrongful death suits.”
“Oh.”
Paul leaned forward. “When did this happen?”
“Four years ago.” Quinn nodded when a murmur of understanding went through the room. “Yeah. The timing fits, too. He might’ve been forced to change his name because of the lawsuit, not what’s going on with the Phoenix Society. His name is apparently mud in certain circles, and I have a message into the blog author to get more information. No response yet.”
“What else do you know?” Fred asked.
“He’s fifty-four, which makes him the same age as Michael. He went to the same school. Those are the biggies. We still have to dig for the rest.”
Farewell Seas Page 51
