by Karen Kirst
Her parents hadn’t had the best of relationships, but her mother had done everything in her power to create a loving, nurturing environment for Olivia and her siblings. She’d never doubted she was loved and wanted.
“You’re doing for these kids what someone should’ve done for you. You’re choosing to care.”
His broad chest rose and hitched. Guzzling the juice, he tossed the empty glass in the recycle bin and pointed to the farthest table. “I’m going to talk to Michael and Cameron.”
In the past, Olivia would’ve viewed his abrupt departure as a rejection. Now she saw his behavior for what it was—an attempt to avoid deep-rooted anguish. Maybe she truly wasn’t his favorite person. Maybe he hadn’t liked her and Derek together. But that wasn’t the whole story. Captain Brady Johnson was a complex, mysterious man whom she would probably never truly know.
But she could pray for him. Why hadn’t she thought to do that before?
I’m sorry, Lord, for fretting over this issue instead of bringing it to You. I don’t know the details of his private pain, but You do. Please help him.
Olivia started gathering the empty pizza boxes and other trash. Maya popped over. “Are you and the hunky captain involved?”
“Brady served with my husband. We’re acquaintances.”
“Would you date him?”
She tied a thick garbage bag with more force than necessary. “No.”
The Marine pilot possessed the aristocratic good looks and bearing of royalty. His flaxen hair, light eyes and fair skin was a memorable combination. He was tall and built of lean, ropy muscle. That didn’t mean she was affected. Because of his connection with Derek, Brady was firmly in the off-limits zone. Besides, she was still in mourning.
“Good.”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“We’re not serious.”
Olivia clamped her lips together. Thanks to her recent love interest, Maya had started hanging around a rough crowd who skirted the law. She’d tried to warn the younger woman, but Maya hadn’t been receptive. In fact, she’d been hostile. There was no use telling her that Brady rarely dated.
“I’m taking these out to the dumpsters.”
Maya grunted a response. Olivia hauled the cumbersome bags through the employee kitchen and out an exit that emptied into a single, paved lane. The heavy door slammed shut with a bang, and she jerked. The thick hedges opposite twisted together like grotesque hands. She dragged the bags around the corner to the trash receptacles, which were located at the edge of an employee parking lot that linked the River Expedition to the Ocean Adventure building. Before tonight, she wouldn’t have wondered what or who could be hiding in the shrubbery.
She shivered as a brisk wind flattened her pants against her legs and nipped at her hair. Goose bumps marched along her exposed forearms. Her coat would’ve come in handy, but as it was a consistent temperature inside the aquarium, she typically left it in her office during shifts.
Crossing the isolated lot, Olivia felt vulnerable. The handful of lampposts weren’t enough to combat the complete November darkness. The panic she’d experienced in the shark tank threatened to erupt.
Ridiculous. She increased her pace. Brady’s suspicions are just that...groundless suspicions.
At the dumpster, she yanked open the side slot and pushed in the bags. Somewhere in the night, a bottle dropped and rolled across concrete. Olivia yelped and pressed her hand to her thrumming heart.
“This has to stop,” she said aloud, squinting into the shadows.
She would not let her imagination play tricks on her.
A rustling noise behind the dumpster had her backing up. When a calico cat leaped out and greeted her with a plaintive meow, she bent to pet it.
“You frightened me, you know that?” she crooned.
Crouched at its level, she spied an odd-shaped bag propped against the concrete-block barrier. The wind tangled with the top flaps and revealed what appeared to be a scuba cylinder.
Olivia reached out, pulled the plastic lower and tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Two cylinders. One silver regular size and a backup orange pony bottle.
Her cylinders. The jagged, superficial scratch near the bottom of the big one proved it.
Her mind whirled. Why were they out here? James couldn’t have had time to get someone out to service them.
Brady’s allegations threw her reasoning into a tailspin. Could he be right?
Could someone have wanted her to encounter trouble in the shark tank?
* * *
“Where did Olivia go?” Brady asked.
Annoyance sparked in Maya’s eyes. “She took out the garbage.” With both hands balanced on the child-size plastic chair in front of her, she leaned close. “Tell me more about flying. You pilot a Huey helicopter?”
“SuperCobra. Twin-engine attack helo.” Brady gestured to the kitchen visible through an open doorway. “Did she use that exit?”
“Olivia’s fine. Tell me more about flying.”
“Maybe later.” He strode past the long lunchroom-style tables.
“Captain, look!” Grinning, Michael lifted a slice of pizza stacked with chocolate chip cookies and took a bite.
He gave him a thumbs-up. “Fix me one of those.”
Beaming, the boy nodded. “Yes, sir!”
In the kitchen, he heard a muffled pounding and hurried to open the door. Olivia stood on the stoop, shivering, deep grooves of worry carved into her brow.
“What’s the matter?”
“Come with me.” She seized his hand. “I need to show you something.”
As she led him into the night, he couldn’t help but notice how their palms fit together...and how cold her skin was. Shrugging out of his jacket, he insisted she put it on.
“Look.” Pulling the lapels together, she directed his attention to a pair of diving cylinders. “These are the ones I use.” She ran her fingertip over a scratch. “I knocked into metal lockers a month or so ago.”
“We need to speak to James and find out why he’d discard them here.”
“He’s already gone for the day.”
“Do you have his cell number?”
She tugged her braid free of the jacket collar. “In my office. I lock my phone in my desk drawer during working hours.”
“I’ll go with you to make the call.”
“The tour—”
“The kids are preoccupied right now. They won’t notice our absence.”
After briefing Norman and the other adults, Olivia led him through the darkened, deserted aquarium. They traversed a maze of high walkways and stairs in a multistory area dominated with large tanks featuring river fish. A shallow pool of water occupied the floor level, and they had to cross on skinny platforms. He understood how she could think it peaceful without the hordes of visitors. Still, there was an almost eerie quality to it.
Voices greeted them as they neared the main entrance. A spindly gentleman in a black uniform mopped the floor as another man spun his car keys on his finger.
“Good evening, Mr. Ludwig.” Olivia greeted the pair. “Roman, I thought you’d gone home already.”
Roman stopped the keys’ motion and, balling them into his palm, sized Brady up from behind rimless glasses. “My car won’t start. I’m waiting on a friend to give me a ride home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it’s an inexpensive fix.”
“I do, too.”
“This is Captain Johnson.” Olivia gestured to Brady. “Roman and I are working together on the breeding program I told you about.”
Brady initiated a handshake. He guessed Roman to be in his late thirties, early forties. He had wavy brown hair and a short, scruffy beard streaked with silver and reddish gold. Like Olivia, he wore khakis and a blue polo bearing the aquarium emblem.
&nbs
p; “I heard about your dive,” Roman said, his bushy brows descending over sharp gray eyes. “Any chance you got our eggs before you ran out of air?”
The guy’s disregard for Olivia’s welfare irked Brady.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she responded good-naturedly. “Why don’t you get your dive cert and retrieve them yourself?”
“Touché.” Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, a car pulled into view and honked. “That’s my ride.”
“See you tomorrow.”
As they entered a bunker-like underground corridor linking the aquarium’s river and ocean buildings, Olivia shot Brady a sideways glance. “Roman’s grumpiness has earned him a nickname around here. We call him ‘Gruffy’ behind his back.”
“Do you like working with him?” His voice echoed off the stark cement walls and floor.
“He’s dependable. I can’t recall a time he’s come in late or called in sick.”
“Would you say he’s an equal contributor to your project?”
She fiddled with one of her silver dolphin earrings. “While he doesn’t generate ideas, he’s a decent problem solver.”
The corridor was a dank, musty space that seemed to stretch on for miles. Emerging into the Ocean Adventure lobby, he breathed in fresh, warm air. They navigated the escalators—turned off for the night—and various exhibit areas before entering the office wing.
“This is James’s.” A slim glass window showed the room was empty. “Mine is farther down.”
Located at a midway point, her box of an office was made smaller by shelves stuffed with trade books and magazines. Colorful works of art showcasing her Native American heritage were wedged into every available wall space. As she retrieved her phone and made the call to James, Brady studied a smooth, black pottery bowl with a carving of two feathers. He’d heard her talk about the Qualla Arts and Crafts cooperative, located in Cherokee, and the fact her mother crafted baskets to sell there.
He noticed the change in her voice as she ended the call. “What is it?”
Sliding her phone into her pocket, she met his quizzical gaze and shrugged. “James said my cylinders are in his office. He spoke with the equipment company here in town, and a rep is supposed to come on Monday.”
“Do you have a key to his office?”
“There’s a master set in the meeting room.”
When she’d retrieved the key, they entered and she flicked on the light.
“There are cylinders, all right.” Brady pointed to the pair propped against the desk chair. “They look identical to the ones by the dumpster.”
She performed a quick inspection. “Except there isn’t a scratch.”
“Walk me through what happened right before your dive.”
“I changed into my wet suit. I joined Erin in the tank area, and we did a methodical check of our equipment. My cylinders were full. The regulator was free of salt buildup and debris.” Sagging against the desk edge, she spread her hands. “I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. At least not with my gear.”
“Which somehow ended up in a garbage bag outside the other building. This building has its own trash area?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You said you received a phone call right before the dive?”
“I was told a representative from AZA, the American Zoo Association, needed to speak to me about the upcoming gala. It’s an important night for Roman and I, since we’re presenting our findings. We’re hopeful the success we’ve had until this point will net further support and other aquariums will follow suit.”
“Who summoned you?”
“One of the secretarial staff. Sarah.” She ran her palms over her pants. “When I got to a phone, there was no one on the line. I assumed they’d gotten impatient and would call back later. When I returned to the dive dock, Erin was suited up and waiting for me.”
“She said she was in the restroom for a few minutes.”
Olivia contemplated the cylinders as if they were bombs set to explode. “You think someone switched mine out for these defective ones.”
“I do. The question is who and why? Are you and Erin on good terms?”
“Erin’s a sweetheart. She wouldn’t do this.”
“Are there security cameras in the tank area?”
She popped up. “There are two.”
Together, they headed to the security office, but it was locked. The one guard on duty overnight spent much of his time touring the premises.
“It’ll have to wait until morning,” she stated. “We’ve been gone long enough, as it is.”
“This is important, Olivia.”
“So is your kids’ experience. I’m not going to waste another half hour or more tracking down the guard. It’ll keep.”
Brady stifled his complaints. Olivia was clearly having trouble accepting that her safe haven had been tainted. Until they could view those video feeds and get those discarded tanks to the police, he’d make a point to stay near her.
* * *
Weariness pulled Olivia closer to sleep, even as she continued to ponder her predicament. There could be no denying someone in her world wanted her to suffer. A devastating thought. In the months since Derek’s death, the aquarium had become her refuge and the employees her support net.
Brady had remained within arm’s reach of her the entire evening, as if he were her covert bodyguard. His closeness had increased her unease. At least the kids hadn’t seemed to notice anything amiss. Their interactions with Brady revealed the depth of their respect and genuine admiration for him. And it was clear he cared about them, too. There was nothing forced or stiff about his demeanor when he engaged with them. It was a side she wished she could see more often.
Despite the HVAC system hum, laughter trickled down from the landing above. Everyone was supposed to be in their sleeping bags, not wandering through the building. Olivia pushed her blankets aside and, slipping on her shoes, left the cot she’d situated at the lower end of the tunnel. Lamplight outside the massive, floor-to-ceiling glass wall cast enough light for her to navigate the motionless escalator.
At the top, she discovered a high school couple in the penguin exhibit. The boy and girl weren’t paying attention to the penguins. Hands entwined, they were whispering and laughing, their shy smiles evidence of their mutual crush.
Olivia cleared her throat, and they leaped apart.
“Time to return to the tunnel, you two,” she said lightly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The girl’s head bowed, she scurried away, the boy on her heels.
“Young love,” she muttered, recalling the naivete of her teenage years.
Behind the glass, she watched a penguin glide beneath the water and perform tricks. Olivia never lost her fascination for God’s amazing creatures. His imagination and wisdom were limitless. She didn’t know how much time passed before the penguin tired of his antics and returned to the rock ledge.
Her watch warned her there weren’t many hours left to sleep. She abandoned the exhibit and skirted a thick blue support beam. A faint sound, like the scrape of a shoe against drywall, reached her. Her nape prickled. Whirling around, she searched the shadows and willed her heartbeat to slow. There weren’t any boogeymen out to get her. Her tumultuous day was making her imagine the worst.
She walked at a fast clip toward the escalator. Olivia reached for the black cushioned handrest. Her fingers never grasped it.
A whisper of hot breath fanning over her nape was her only warning before two hands settled against her back and shoved.
Olivia’s scream lodged in her throat as she tumbled headfirst down the steep, jagged metal stairs.
FOUR
Brady gave up trying to get comfortable on the blow-up mattress and instead observed the shark appearing to float far above him, visible through the portal beside his mak
eshift bed. The tank lights would be turned off in ten more minutes. A shame, really, because watching the ocean creatures in their blue world had a soothing effect.
The kids’ whispers carried through the carpeted tunnel, and he wondered how long it would be before the sugar and excitement wore off. He shifted onto his side and became engrossed with the sea turtle who, because of buoyancy issues resulting from his accident, swam with his tail pointed to the ceiling. The turtle had captured the group’s interest, and they’d peppered Olivia with questions. She’d been a wonderful host...patient, friendly and composed. He’d picked up on subtle signs of her distress—a flash in her eyes, a tremor in hand—only because he’d known what to look for. He had to give her credit for holding it together.
His lids fluttered closed, only to pop open at the sound of a terror-filled scream.
“Did you hear that, Captain?” Michael, bedded down a couple of feet away, scooted deeper into his sleeping bag.
“Stay put. I’m going to check it out.”
Grabbing his flashlight from his pack, Brady instructed everyone to remain in place. Norman left his spot at the tunnel entrance and paced among the now quiet kids. Brady hurried through the space, expecting to encounter Olivia. But when he reached the end, he saw that her cot was empty.
Dread winged through him. He jogged through the hallway and poked his head into the women’s restroom.
“Olivia? You in here?”
Not a single sound interrupted the socket lights’ buzz. A sense of urgency gripped him. Calling her name, he continued down the hall and rounded the corner into the escalator area. The space was open to the second story and, thanks to the wall of glass, afforded an expansive view of the River Expedition building and waterfront. Striding beneath the twin escalators, he approached the doors.
A reflection in the glass diverted his attention. Pivoting, he probed the space with his gaze and realized the out-of-place shadow wasn’t a trick of the light. It was a person, sprawled at the bottom of the steep escalators. Long black hair fanned across the shiny floor grate. A ribbon of dark liquid glistened beneath her cheek.