Churning Seas
A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 6
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Copyright © 2018 by Lily Harper Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
20. Twenty
Mail List
Acknowledgments
Books by Lily Harper Hart
1
One
“Sweetie, stop fidgeting.”
Quinn Davenport kept his girlfriend Rowan Gray pinned to his side as they navigated the dark street and headed toward the small cafe located at the next intersection. A man waited for them there. Nick Green. He was Rowan’s uncle — and he’d fallen off the map for almost two weeks — but now he was back and promising answers.
Those answers were enough to make Rowan a nervous wreck, and Quinn officially worried that she was about to melt down.
“I’m not fidgeting.” Rowan’s eyes flashed as she furrowed her brow and slowed her pace. “Little kids fidget. I’m not a little kid.”
Quinn refused to be dragged into an argument regarding his girlfriend’s maturity level. That seemed ... well ... childish was the best word. He knew pointing that out was a mistake, though. Rowan was like a stretched rubber band. She was one jostle away from snapping in two. If she snapped, Quinn wasn’t sure how he would manage to pick up the pieces.
“You’re definitely not a little kid.” Quinn calmly tugged a strand of Rowan’s flyaway auburn hair behind her ear and leaned over so he could press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. He adored everything about the woman who had somehow slipped underneath his defenses and stolen his heart at a time when he wasn’t looking for a connection with anyone. Now he couldn’t imagine a life without her, which was a terrifying thought he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.
“You’re treating me like a little kid,” Rowan pointed out, refusing to back down.
“I am not.”
“You are, too.”
“I am not.”
“You are, too.” Rowan planted her hands on her hips and made Quinn smile. “It’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing at you.” Quinn held up his hand in a placating manner, which only seemed to fire Rowan’s fury. “I just think it’s amusing that we’re having a very immature argument about being mature. That’s all.”
“I’m not being immature.”
“I know.”
“I’m not.” Rowan jutted out her lower lip as she folded her arms across her chest. “I’m totally mature.”
“I know.” Quinn stroked his hand over the back of her hair and moved closer so he could lower his voice. “It’s going to be okay. I know this is a big deal — that it’s what you’ve been waiting for — but overreacting isn’t going to help things.”
“What makes you think I’m overreacting?”
“Because I can feel how hard your heart is pounding and it makes me hurt for you,” Quinn replied honestly, resting his hand on the spot directly above Rowan’s heart. “Sweetie, you’ve been struggling with this for years and you’re finally going to get some answers. It is a huge deal.”
Rowan pressed her lips together to give herself a second to collect her emotions. The last thing she wanted to do was cry, but suddenly her eyes burned and that’s exactly what she wanted to do.
“Oh, come here.” Quinn pulled her into his arms and hugged her as tightly as he could manage without smothering her, rocking from side to side as he kissed her cheek and felt her melt against him. She needed the tactile contact because otherwise she would lose touch with reality. He was willing to offer her everything she needed — and whatever she didn’t realize she needed — to make sure she was okay. They simply had to take things one step at a time.
“I’m afraid,” Rowan admitted, choking out the words after a beat as she buried her face in the hollow between Quinn’s shoulder and neck. “What if he was lying before when he said my father was alive? What if he has some other motivation for visiting me? What if something else is going on?”
Quinn understood Rowan’s reaction. Quite frankly, he’d been expecting it. He was prepared to talk her off the ledge and keep her on task. “Sweetheart, I doubt very much the uncle you haven’t seen since you were a kid tricked his way back into your life simply because he wants to mess with you.”
“Maybe he wants money or something.”
“Did you suddenly trip over a random wallet and get rich when I wasn’t looking? Last time I checked, you made a modest living as a cruise ship photographer. What money do you have for him to steal?”
“I ... .” Rowan broke off and chewed on her lip, her expression rueful. “I guess you have a point.”
“I do have a point,” Quinn agreed, firm. “We haven’t seen your uncle in weeks, not since that dive went wrong and he had to stay behind and deal with the police fallout. He promised to be in touch as soon as he could manage it. Now he’s in touch.”
“I had just about convinced myself that he was going to disappear like my father,” Rowan supplied. “I thought he decided to play a cruel joke on me and go away.”
Quinn didn’t want to admit it, but he’d worried about the same thing. When Nick Green’s message finally came through, it was a relief in more ways than one. Not only was Nick back in Florida — and Quinn and Rowan happened to be at port for a few days before setting sail on another trip, so it was good timing — but he also had information about Rowan’s father, a man who disappeared without a trace ten years before and was believed dead.
“Well, it obviously wasn’t a joke,” Quinn said, rubbing his thumb over Rowan’s expressive face as he struggled for a way to soothe her. She was a bottle of nerves, which made him edgy because she was usually the calming presence in his life. He wasn’t used to being required to offer comfort ... especially in a situation this fraught with emotional upheaval.
“It wasn’t a joke,” Rowan agreed. “We don’t know what we’re going to find in that restaurant, though. We don’t know where Nick has been. I mean ... what if he has my father with him? What if I’m going to actually see my father for the first time in ten years and it’s going to happen less than a block from here? How am I going to handle that?”
Quinn was at a loss for words. “You’re going to handle it like you do everything else,” he said finally. “You’re going to handle it with grace because that’s how you’re built.”
“I think you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m saying that because it’s true.” Quinn gave Rowan a steadying kiss before smiling. “As for your father being in there, I wouldn’t count on it. Nick is secretive by nature. When it comes time to see your father, something tells me it’s not going to happen in a public restaurant.”
Rowan nodded in understanding, although her heart rolled at Quinn’s words. She was disappointed that Quinn didn’t seem to believe it was feasible for her father to be waiting for her. She didn’t, however, want to admit that out loud.
“He’s not going to leave.” With exaggerated calmness that he didn’t really feel, Quinn linked his fingers with Rowan’s and smiled. “He called you. He’s waiting for you. It’s going to be okay.”
Rowan returned the smile, although it didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. “So ... let’s do this.”
“Definitely. Let’s do this together. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“You always are.”
NICK PICKED A SMOKY AND dark cafe for their meeting. Since smoking in Florida bars was illegal, Quinn was mildly impressed that owners of the Shark Tooth Tavern & Grill seemed to allow their guests to do whatever they wanted without admonishing them about fines or at least attempting to hide their activities.
“This place is interesting,” Rowan said, wrinkling her nose as she scanned the establishment. “Do you see Nick?”
Quinn kept his hand on Rowan’s waist as he joined her in searching the room, hating the way three men at the pool table looked her up and down ... as if she were the top layer in a bucket of broiling seafood. “There.” He inclined his chin toward a booth in the back corner.
Rowan followed his gaze, her heart jolting a bit when she caught sight of her uncle. Despite the fact that Quinn tempered her expectations on the street, she found she was a bit disappointed that her father wasn’t also sitting in the booth.
“Okay.” Rowan squared her shoulders to prove she was strong and determined ... or at least make her feel less hunched over and scared. “Come on.” She tugged on Quinn’s hand. “Let’s see what he has to say.”
Quinn was more than willing to let Rowan take the lead. He knew she needed to be in control of some aspect of this meeting, and since Nick was the one who left her twisting in the wind and controlled all the information about her father, Rowan had very little to cling to. If she wanted to be in the lead tonight, Quinn thought it was best to cede all power to her for the duration of the evening.
“Rowan.” Nick was already on his feet when the duo approached the table. He reached out to hug Rowan, a gesture she accepted rather stiffly, and he was frowning when he pulled back. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Rowan’s eyebrows flew up her forehead and her tone turned shrill. “I can’t believe you’re asking that. What’s wrong? There’s so much wrong I don’t even know where to start.”
Quinn rubbed the back of his neck, casting a sidelong look to his girlfriend as they settled on the opposite side of the booth from Nick. “Sweetie ... .”
Rowan barreled forward, pretending she didn’t hear Quinn. “You haven’t been in contact in three weeks.”
“It’s closer to two weeks,” Nick corrected.
“Three weeks,” Rowan persisted.
Since Quinn could see where the conversation was going, he heaved out a sigh and carefully rested his hand on top of Rowan’s to keep her fingers from dancing against the tabletop so hard she inadvertently jostled Nick’s drink so liquid spilled over the lip.
“You have to understand that it’s been a very long two weeks,” Quinn started.
“Three weeks,” Rowan corrected.
Quinn shot her a quelling look. “It’s been two weeks and two days. That’s closer to two weeks than three weeks.”
“Oh, so you’re taking his side.” Rowan moved to jerk her hand away, but Quinn tightened his grip and shook his head.
“Do not pick a fight with me right now,” Quinn warned, his eyes piercing. “I know this is freaking you out, but I’m here to help and you need to chill.”
For a moment, Quinn thought Rowan would start yelling, perhaps stomp her feet, and storm out of the bar. Instead she merely sucked in a breath and nodded. When she didn’t exhale for what felt like forever, Quinn growled.
“Breathe,” he ordered, his frustration coming out to play.
Rowan practically choked when she unclenched, and Nick’s face was a mask of concern when he focused on Quinn, his expression demanding answers.
“Am I missing something?”
“You’re missing a lot,” Quinn answered, moving his hand to Rowan’s back so he could rub soothing circles there in an effort to calm her. “Do you have any idea how upsetting it is for her to hear her father is alive and then have you disappear for weeks?”
Nick balked. “I didn’t disappear. I was dealing with international authorities because some of my workers turned out to be murderers and thieves. If you think that was fun for me, you have another think coming.”
Quinn was instantly contrite. “I understand. That must have been a pain. What happened with that?”
Nick waved off the question. “It’s hardly important. The guilty parties are behind bars, and in a country that believes manual labor should be involved in penance. They won’t be getting out any time soon, and if they ever do get out, they will be transferred to American authorities to face more charges.”
“So ... they’re basically no longer our concern?” Quinn queried. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
“At least that’s one worry off our shoulders, huh?” Quinn slid his eyes to Rowan and found her intently watching Nick. She was back to being agitated, which he really hated seeing. “What can you tell us about Rowan’s father?”
Nick flicked his eyes around the dark bar to make sure no one was eavesdropping before shrugging. “Not much right now. I understand you want the full story — and I promise you’ll get it — but it’s not something we can share here.”
“So, let’s go to wherever you’re staying,” Rowan insisted, finding her voice. “You can tell me there.”
“I don’t want you being seen at my place if I can help it, in case it’s being watched or something,” Nick countered. “That might not end well if someone realizes who you are. It’s fine if you’re just the photographer for a cruise ship. It’s not okay if people put it together that you’re Paul Gray’s daughter.”
Rowan was legitimately baffled. “And why isn’t that okay?”
“Because it’s not, kid.” Nick was matter of fact. “There’s a lot you don’t understand. Hey, before you start yelling that you’re trying to understand, I get it. This isn’t easy for you. It’s not easy for me either. It’s certainly not easy for your father.”
“He wasn’t the one left with nothing but questions,” Rowan pointed out. “He wasn’t the one abandoned.”
“He didn’t abandon you. He was protecting you.”
Quinn leaned back in the booth seat and snuggled Rowan a bit closer at his side. In truth, he was expecting Nick to say that. The only reason it would make sense for Rowan’s father to run and abandon her when she was a teenager is if something bad was chasing him. For Paul to remain hidden all these years, that meant something bad was still out there.
Rowan snorted. “What was he protecting me from? Hunger? Money troubles? Being homeless? I faced all those things once he left me. He didn’t save me from any of that.”
Nick worked his jaw as he stared at his niece. “You were homeless?”
Quinn was mildly surprised by that admission, too. “What do you mean by that?”
Rowan realized too late that she’d said something that was likely to make things worse rather than better. “It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head to dislodge the dark thoughts. “It was a long time ago.”
Quinn’s hand was warm on her back as he attacked the tension she was carrying in her neck with a tender touch. “Rowan ... .”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Rowan was firm. She couldn’t believe she brought up being homeless. It wasn’t something that lasted a long time, but it wasn’t one of her happier memories. “I want to know where he is, Uncle Nick. I want to know where he’s been. I think I deserve that.”
Nick’s eyes shone as emotion washed over him. H
omeless? He had no idea Rowan was homeless for a period. He didn’t like the thought of his niece being in a vulnerable position like that. It was almost too much to bear. “You do deserve that,” he said finally. “I can’t be the one to tell you what happened, though. I promised your father I would let him do it.”
“Where is he?” Quinn asked. “Is he coming?”
“To Florida? Yes.”
Rowan’s heart rate picked up a notch. “When? I want to see him. No, I need to see him.”
“He wants to see you more than anything, Rowan,” Nick promised. “This isn’t easy for him either. He loves you.”
“You don’t abandon people you supposedly love,” Rowan shot back.
“You do if it’s the only way to keep them safe.” Nick hated the fury lurking in the depths of Rowan’s eyes. She’d earned her anger, of course, but that was simply going to make things more difficult. “Your father is making arrangements to come to Florida. His travel plans will be roundabout, just to be on the safe side. When I have news of him landing, I will arrange a meeting between the two of you.”
“What happens if we’re out on a cruise?” Quinn asked, his mind busy. “Rowan signed a contract. She can’t just sit on the mainland and wait for this to happen. She has a job to do.”
“I understand that,” Nick said. “Once he’s here, we can lock him up tight so he’s not discovered. The fear is with the travel itself. I’ll stay in touch as I know more. If you guys are on a cruise when he arrives then we’ll simply wait until you get back.”
“Do you promise?” The hope in Rowan’s voice was almost enough to drop Quinn to the floor. She desperately needed this.
Churning Seas Page 1