by Karen Kirst
“Maya?”
“Olivia.” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Ruth asked me to come in. How have you been?”
“Not good.” Fresh tears welled. “I should’ve listened to you.”
Olivia shared a glance with Brady. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Bruno. He’s bad news, like you said. I found out he did something terrible.” Guilt danced over her features. “I ended things. He was angry.”
Brady stepped closer. “Do you have reason to believe he’d hurt you?”
She hooked her hair behind her ears. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”
Apprehension washed over her. Was she the person Maya was worried about? “Maya, you should tell the police what you know.”
“I don’t know anything.” Her gaze skittered away, and she backed up. “I have to go.”
“Maya, wait—”
Ruth rushed into the atrium and called Olivia’s name. She turned around, and Maya dashed outside.
“Detective Shaw’s theory about her boyfriend is looking more likely,” Brady said in a low voice. “She smacked of guilt and regret. Maybe the person he hurt is you.”
“As soon as we’re done here, we should call him. Maya could be in danger simply for kicking him to the curb. He doesn’t sound like a humble guy.”
“Not to mention she has dirt on him.”
Ruth reached them then. “Olivia, I’m glad I caught you. I’ve decided to take your advice and see a doctor.” She had her purse hooked over her shoulder, her keys in one hand. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving the aquarium in Don Welch’s supervision. He’s an adept security head, but his knowledge doesn’t extend to the animals. James isn’t answering his phone. I hate to ask, but would you be willing to oversee operations until I can get back?”
Brady shook his head, silently urging her to decline. She shrugged. How could she say no? “Of course, I’ll do it.”
“Olivia—”
“Don is here,” she assured him. “It’s only for a few hours. I’ll ask Jacksonville PD if they could spare an officer.”
Ruth surprised Olivia with a hug. “You’re a good person.” Spinning away, she rushed outside. Through the glass, they saw her turn and stare at them, her mouth a troubled line. She offered a half-hearted wave and left.
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Brady pinched the bridge of his nose.
Olivia didn’t want to admit Ruth’s behavior unnerved her. “We’ll call Shaw and relay our concerns about both women.”
He nodded to the scene outside. An icy drizzle made patterns on the sidewalk. A layer of ice on the road would make travel impossible, and buildup on tree limbs would impact power lines. “Ruth may not be able to return, even if she wants to.” His blue-gray gaze was stormy. “We may be stuck here for the night.”
TWENTY-ONE
“Let’s meet up with Don and find out who else is staying,” Olivia said. “It would be easier than touring the twin buildings and possibly missing someone.”
Brady fell into step beside her. His gut instincts were screaming to get her out of there. Maya had hinted at trouble that might involve Olivia, and the director had spooked him with that strange stare. He also didn’t like that the department hadn’t been able to spare an officer. The weather was worsening, and they needed all staff on hand to help with potential emergencies.
“Later, we’ll raid the snack bar.” She nudged his side. “I know for a fact there are orange-and-vanilla popsicles.”
He couldn’t summon much enthusiasm. He’d pictured them secure inside his house, eating ice cream on his comfortable couch and watching mindless television. After having to deal with a forced landing and then a lengthy drive from Charleston, Brady was feeling the punch of fatigue.
She sensed his lingering dismay. “Once we’ve taken care of the evening feedings, we’ll either hang out in my office or the employee break room. No more roaming.”
“I understand why you agreed to this.” Not only was she devoted to the animals’ well-being, but she was also a selfless person. “I just wish Ruth hadn’t put you on the spot.”
“She didn’t choose to become ill.”
“That depends on how good of an actress she is,” he muttered.
Olivia fell silent. They used one of the employee stairwells to reach the basement. Emerging into the cavernous area, she put her hand out. Raised voices bounced off the thick walls.
“That sounds like Roman,” she said quietly.
They walked slowly past the pumps and around the corner, where Roman was arguing with a stranger.
Her brow puckered. “I wonder what that’s about.”
Roman grabbed the other man by the throat and shoved him against the wall.
Brady stiffened. “Nothing good. Do you recognize that man?”
“He’s wearing the salt-company uniform. He must be the delivery driver. What would Roman want with him?”
“Let’s ask.”
The pair belatedly noticed their approach and broke apart.
“Olivia.” Roman’s expression was inscrutable. “What are you doing down here?”
“Ruth had to leave, and she asked me to stay in her place.” She looked pointedly at the driver, who found something interesting in the floor. “What’s going on?”
“A misunderstanding, that’s all.” Roman gestured to the other man. “You were leaving, weren’t you?”
The driver smoothed the front of his shirt and nodded. When he passed between Olivia and Brady, she tensed.
Brady noticed her reaction. His brows lifted in unspoken question.
She cleared her throat. “Are you staying overnight, Roman?”
“Me? You know that’s not my cup of tea. I’m going to fetch something from my locker before I go.” Roman speared Brady with a sharp stare. “Enjoy yourselves.”
They watched him leave via a wide hallway.
Olivia seized his wrist. “When the driver walked by me, I was hit with the overwhelming smell of brine and seawater. He smelled exactly like the trunk I was almost stuffed inside. We have to follow him.”
The sound of a clanging metal door led them to a delivery area with oversize garage-style doors. They broke into a run. By the time they pushed open the door, he was inside his delivery truck and revving the engine. When Olivia started to go after him, Brady caught her hand.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
“He could have a weapon.”
“You’re armed.”
“I can’t fire on a guy based on how he smells. We need more proof than that. If he suspects we’re onto him and manages to get away, he’ll destroy any evidence.”
She reluctantly agreed. Brady’s call to Detective Shaw went to voice mail.
“Read off the license plate number. I’ll text him the info.”
Olivia rattled it off. The wind shifted and pushed rain into the covered area. Brady pocketed his phone and ushered her inside.
“He didn’t act like he was nursing a gunshot wound,” she mused, folding her arms over herself and chafing her upper arms.
“I might’ve only clipped him. That would be relatively easy to hide.”
“Do you think it’s him?”
He recognized her desperation, because he was nearing the end of his rope, too. “He fits the description. Hold on, did you notice Roman looked different?”
“What do you mean?”
“He shaved. The man in the video image was clean-shaven.”
Her face scrunched. “Roman? He’s grumpy and abrupt, I’ll grant you that. I haven’t seen him lose his temper until today. But is he capable of pulling off elaborate murder attempts?”
“Maybe he’s working with the salt-truck driver. Has he shaved his beard since he’s been here?”
> “No.”
“Let’s have another talk with him.”
“All right.”
On the first floor, they were waylaid by the head of security.
“Don, have you seen Roman?”
“I just let him out the main entrance.”
Olivia planted her hands on her hips. “He said he had to retrieve something from his locker.”
Don shrugged, his hooded gaze sliding between them. “Must’ve changed his mind.”
“Who else is staying tonight?”
“Becky Colburn and Tim Woods. They’re in the other building. I’m headed down to the office, in case you need me.” Don scowled at the glazed sidewalk visible through the wall of glass. “Freezing rain. Won’t be too long before the streets will be impassible.”
When he’d gone, Olivia sent Brady an apologetic look. “You were right. Even if Ruth or James could get back here, it wouldn’t be safe for us to try and navigate slick roads.”
“We’ll make the best of it.”
The next two hours were spent doling out the evening feedings. Afterward, Olivia led the way to the snack bar. She heated up corn dogs and giant slices of pizza and told him to raid the ice cream cooler. They left cash in the drawer to cover the cost and carried their bounty upstairs to the employee break room.
“I haven’t eaten like this since flight school,” he said, taking a moment to lock the door behind them.
She laughed. “This is what people do when they’re stranded by foul weather.”
She tuned the television to a local station and joined him at one of the tables. They listened to the weather report while they ate.
“I remember one particularly bad winter in Cherokee. We had freezing rain off and on for days, which resulted in the loss of electricity. It wasn’t restored for two weeks in some areas. Of course, the kids didn’t mind. We didn’t have to go to school.”
The door knob rattled, and she jerked. Brady stood up, tipping his chair back in the process. Through the glass, they could see a woman with very short brown hair and dangly earrings.
“It’s Becky.”
Olivia unlocked the door. The other employee, Tim, was with her. They had come in search of food.
“There’s plenty here,” Olivia said. “Please join us.”
After introductions were made, the pair settled in and conversation turned to aquarium affairs. Brady couldn’t help but notice Olivia’s enthusiasm for the topic. He hated that she’d been deprived of her life’s chosen work.
It was ten o’clock when Tim retreated to his office for the night. He’d brought a sleeping bag and pillow, as had Becky.
“We weren’t planning to stay the night, so we’re ill prepared.” Olivia cleared the last of the garbage and placed it in the receptacle.
“Isn’t there extra bedding in the room off the auditorium?” Becky said, yawning.
“I forgot.” She turned to Brady. “We store sleeping bags there in case our Sleep with the Sharks guests need it.”
“Tell me where it is, exactly, and I’ll fetch it.”
“It’ll be easier to come with you.”
Becky bid them good-night and shuffled to her office. As they set out on their errand, Shaw texted.
“He pulled up the salt truck plates and, with a single phone call, got the driver’s name. Merlin Hunley. He has a squeaky-clean record, it appears.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Another dead end.”
He settled his hand on her nape and massaged the taut muscles. “He’s promised to keep digging. They’re currently processing the fingerprints from the dead employee’s apartment. That may turn up something useful.”
“I suppose.” Olivia tugged open the auditorium door, and they started to descend the steep steps. Moments later, the lights flickered out. The room was plunged into inky darkness.
Her fingers reached back and tangled with his. “There goes the electricity.”
“What about the generators?”
“They emit enough power to run the pumping system and illuminate the exits. That’s about it.”
He activated his phone’s flashlight. The beam hardly penetrated the vast space around them. They retrieved the sleeping bags and blankets and retraced their steps. Out in the atrium, the tanks’ humming filled the space. The exit signs glared red. Beyond the glass walls, the streets were unlit, the buildings a network of mysterious shapes.
The gunshot came out of nowhere. Pain exploded in Brady’s lower leg.
He lunged for Olivia, determined to shield her.
* * *
Brady’s arms closed around her, and he maneuvered her back inside the auditorium.
Another bullet struck the thick door.
“We have to move,” he grunted, tugging her toward the stairs. “I dropped my phone out there.”
She grabbed his hand. “This way.”
Picturing the space in her mind, she led him to the left side and used the paneled wall to guide them down. They were almost to the bottom when she heard the door creak open. Another shot blasted through the room. Her fingers tightening on Brady’s, she lurched through the door first.
He closed and locked it behind him. She noticed he was breathing heavily but put it down to the chase.
“Through here,” she instructed, grateful she knew these rooms’ layouts like the back of her hand. “When we exit, we can either take the basement corridor to the other building or go up the escalator and try to reach Don’s office.”
He didn’t immediately answer. She forged ahead, holding tightly to his hand. When they emerged, he left the decision up to her.
“Basement it is,” she murmured, praying she was right.
A single light pierced the gloom of the dank underground tunnel. They raced through it, desperate to reach the other building and find a place to hide long enough to contact Don. Olivia noticed Brady was slowing.
“What’s the matter?” She could barely make out his features.
Before he could answer, footsteps striking the cement floor alerted them that the shooter was in pursuit.
Inside the other building, he sagged against the wall and doubled over. Alarmed, she edged close.
“Brady?”
“I’m fine.” Gulping in air, he shoved upright. “Where to?”
“Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing.” He folded his fingers through hers. “You’re in charge here. Where do we go?”
“We can barricade ourselves in the scuba equipment room.”
“Lead the way.”
Olivia tried not to think about the weakness in his voice. There was no time to demand answers. She avoided the obvious route—the unmoving escalator where she’d been pushed—and led him through a series of stairways and halls until they reached the shark tank area. It was the closest route to the scuba equipment room.
She locked the door and, pulling him farther into the room, flicked on her phone light and scanned him from head to toe. Blood stained his right pants leg below the knee.
“You got shot?” she cried out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sank onto a metal bench. “Wasn’t time.”
“Don’t move. I’ll get the first aid kit.”
Olivia ignored his protests. She grabbed the kit from the nearby office and raced back. Her fingers were shaking as she handed him the phone.
“Hold this.”
“Liv, it can wait—”
“No, it can’t.”
He sighed and aimed the flashlight. She rolled up his pants leg and bit down hard on her inner cheek when she glimpsed the torn, bloody flesh. She made a mess of the contents as she searched for a pad and gauze.
“Don’t worry about antibiotic cream,” he said in a controlled voice. “Just wrap it up.”
“And if the bullet’s still
in there?”
“It can be dug out later.”
She got the wound covered with a snug wrapping of gauze. “Let’s pray that stems the bleeding.”
“Your prayers won’t help you,” snarled a voice behind them.
Olivia whirled around. The single light in the hallway illuminated his features from above, distorting them. “Roman?” Shock immobilized her. “It was you all along?”
Brady slowly stood and used his body to block her.
“The police are on their way,” Brady said, bluffing. “You don’t want to add two more homicides to your list of crimes, do you?”
He sneered. “Where I come from, there are people who can make that all go away.”
“Where you’re from? You mean New Jersey?” she demanded.
His eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. “So it’s true. Matteo told you who he really was.”
“Derek told me nothing. I found out after his death. What I don’t understand is why his family wants me dead. Why send you here to infiltrate my life?”
“My job was to ferret out what secrets Matteo shared with you—”
“He didn’t tell me anything,” she asserted. “Don’t you see? Derek buried Matteo Giordano and had no plans to resurrect him.”
“You should’ve been more up-front about your relationship. If you’d convinced me of your blissful ignorance, maybe I wouldn’t have to kill you.”
“Since when did we have heart-to-hearts?”
“What’s your connection with the salt-truck driver?” Brady inched forward.
“None of your business.”
“Did you pay him to do your dirty work?” He continued to advance. Olivia snagged his shirt, but he kept going. “Was that him out in the woods? Tell me, which one of you did I clip?”
“That coward?” He gave a bark of laughter. “Merlin’s the skittish sort. I had to twist his arm to get him to look the other way.”
“You convinced him to do what? Help you avoid the security cameras?”
Roman noticed how close Brady had gotten. “Stop right there.”
Brady obeyed and held up his hands. “I’m just trying to get answers. Ruth was acting twitchy. Did you have a role in her summons of Olivia?”