Fearless

by Marlie May

  “That’s a complete betrayal of mankind.” Jax’s words came out serious but the sparkle in his deep blue eyes indicated he was only poking fun.

  Flint sipped his beer and then cocked one eyebrow Jax’s way. “Maybe if you read a few romances, you’d learn how to talk to women. Then you wouldn’t find yourself dateless on a Friday night.”

  “Burn,” Eli said with a grin. His glance between the men made it clear he was enjoying the show.

  “Women like to go out with me,” Jax said with a huff. “I…” His gaze met mine and my mind shot to my cousin Haylee. “Yeah, sometimes.”

  Haylee’s eyes followed Jax whenever he was around. Didn’t he see that? Maybe I should share my best cookie recipes…

  Eli turned to me. “As I was saying earlier, I really like Dag Ross’s books. There’s something awesome about a spunky woman who can put a beefy Highlander in his place in two seconds flat.”

  Repeat performance: my jaw dropped. I leaned toward him, eager to share my favorite books, but Flint abruptly pulled his phone and answered.

  He listened for a moment, then said, “Okay. Hold tight. We’ll be there soon.” As he put his phone away, he directed his gaze to me. “I’m sorry but something’s come up on the job. We have to take care of this right away.”

  “Showtime.” Cooper tossed his napkin on his empty plate and stood.

  So much for Flint’s “cushy” security assignment here in Puerto Morelos. Fluffy security jobs never called four ex-Navy guys out on a Friday night.

  I tried not to pout, but I hadn’t seen my brother in over a month and I was enjoying getting to know Eli again. “I thought you were off until tomorrow.”

  “In my business,” Flint said. “I’m never off duty.”

  Kiddie drones, right?

  “Trouble?” Eli asked quietly, his forearms braced on the table.

  Flint’s gaze slid away from mine. “Someone’s…gone missing.” Standing, he dropped a bunch of cash onto the table. “We’ve got to go. Now.”

  Rising, Jax’s hand darted around to his back as if he needed to make sure he was still packing.

  Stop. He wasn’t armed, was he?

  My gut clenched. What was going on here?

  Eli joined them on the other side of the table, saying so softly, I barely heard his words, “I’m in, if you need me.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cooper nudged his chin toward Eli. “Talk about new employee orientation, huh? Nothing like jumping into action your first week on the job.”

  “Action?” I glanced back and forth between the men but their expressions might as well be forged from steel because they gave nothing away. These military guys sure held their secrets close.

  “Well, no, not really action.” Cooper coughed. “It’s—”

  “You’ll go to the hotel immediately, right?” Flint said to me.

  Getting up, I grabbed my clutch off the table. “Crack of dawn flight, so I guess so?” Since the celebration was over already, I might as well spend the rest of my evening with a good book. After all, I had a twelve-pack of them waiting in my room.

  Flint came around the table and hugged me. “I promise I’ll be back in time to take you to the airport.”

  “Wait.” Stepping back, I frowned. “You think you’ll be gone all night?”

  “’Course not,” he said. “This is nothing.” He rubbed my arms and stared down at me. “I’m sorry this job’s ruining your birthday, though.”

  “It’s okay.” I pressed for a smile because it wasn’t like he could help it. “It was still great to see you. We can catch up once you’re home.”

  “Definitely.”

  Cooper nodded. “Happy Birthday.”

  Jax came around the table and bowled me over with a hug, saying by my ear, “Stop by the office soon, will ya? I’ve missed you.”

  I chuckled. “Chocolate chip this time?” Definitely needed to enlist Haylee for cookie duty.

  He grinned. “Double batch, if it’s not a problem.”

  “Deal.”

  We walked out front, and Jax, Cooper, and Flint strode toward my brother’s rental parked in the lot. Eli remained with me.

  “Well,” he said, his attention focused on the pavement. “It was nice meeting up with you again despite the unexpected swim.” He reached into his pocket and held out a small white box. “Happy Birthday.”

  “Oh, wow.” A thrill ran through me. He’d bought me a gift? “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Eli?” Flint called, standing inside the open driver’s door. The other guys had already buckled. Brows lifted, Flint nudged his chin toward the black SUV. “Any time, bro.”

  Eli ignored him. “It’s just a little something I thought you’d like.”

  My smile got bigger, because…nothing. This couldn’t mean anything, could it?

  “Eli,” Flint said again, firmer this time.

  Eli watched me, his lips teasing upward.

  “As I said, I’m back in Maine for good now.” His intent gaze remained on my face. “I imagine we’ll run into each other sometime?”

  Excitement rushed through me at the thought of seeing him on a regular basis. “Sure, I’d love that.”

  He nodded and strode toward the SUV.

  My pulse racing way too fast from our simple conversation, I watched him—couldn’t help watching him, actually—until he’d climbed into the vehicle and Flint squealed out of the parking lot.

  Dropping onto a bench nearby, I opened the box.

  My breath caught when I saw what he’d given me. The delicate silver chain winked in the streetlights when I dangled it. Tossing aside the box, I smiled at the pendant—a small sterling daisy.

  Did he remember that time I’d picked a daisy and spontaneously given it to him when I’d stayed on the base to help Flint? He’d blushed redder than the horizon the night before a storm.

  With a soft smile, I fastened the necklace around my neck.

  Standing, I crossed the road to my hotel. But once I’d reached my room and sat on the bed with my book open on my lap, I sighed. It seemed a shame to spend my last night in Puerto Morelos cooped up in a stuffy hotel room. The ocean would be gorgeous now that the moon had risen, and the sultry-salty air would give me one final taste of Mexico.

  Arriving at the entrance to the public beach a short time later, I kicked off my sandals so I could feel the sand squish between my toes. I fingered my necklace as strolled beside the water, and my mind skipped with thoughts of meeting up again with Eli once we were both back in Maine.

  But my smile fell when I tripped over a man lying motionless on the sand.

  Heart jarring, I dropped down beside him and turned on my phone light.

  Mid-fifties. Slender build. Dressed in a suit which was a weird clothing choice for a beach. He lay curled on his side as if he'd fallen.

  I rubbed his shoulder. “Hey. You okay?” His body slumped toward me, and my gasp cut through the air. A dark, glossy pool expanded on the ground beyond his belly and the sharp, metallic tang burned my sinuses. What the hell was going on here?

  My training kicked in, and I leaned over him, listening. Great, he was breathing. But his pulse was thready which was never a good sign. I shoved aside his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Gulping, I stared down at his belly wound that seeped blood. Crap. A slice. Not a scrape or a puncture from a fall on rocks. A deep slice, too. As if he’d been gutted by a knife. This man needed a wide-open IV and a trauma surgeon, stat. Instead, he only had me.

  Dread trickled down my spine. What if whoever had done this was still nearby? Hunched over him, I peered around, but clouds covered the moon, making it difficult to see.

  He coughed, spewing pink foam, and I jerked back. From the position of his wound, I suspected a liver laceration but his lungs could be injured, too.

  Unease flashed across my skin. This was bad. Too much for me to handle alone.

  I called 911 and explained the situation in my very limited Spanish,
hoping they understood.

  I was shoving my phone into my pocket when the man’s eyes opened. He blinked before narrowing his gaze on my face, and his flash of confusion was replaced by tight lines of urgency. “Take it.” His hand rose before dropping back onto the sand.

  “Hang in there,” I said. “Help will be here soon.”

  “No.” Bloody fluid trickled down the side of his face. “Take it.”

  “I don’t understand.” My words were snatched up and carried away on the wind.

  His hand rose to his chest, and he exposed a small notebook taped down snug beneath his arm.

  My breath caught. “This?” I peeled the tape back until the book came free. Flipping it over, I frowned. It was a normal notebook, the kind you’d pick up at a dollar store. Nothing of value. “What do you want me to do with it?”

  As if he was determined to spend his last of his energy, he lifted his chest off the ground. Fear burst through in his words. “Give it to…”

  My heart lurched against my ribs and I leaned closer, straining to hear.

  “To…” Air wheezed from his lungs. The hand he’d clamped on my arm went slack, and he collapsed back onto the sand. His head slumped to the side and his eyes remained open, fixed and unfocused. No pulse.

  Gone. Like the woman I’d been unable to save back home.

  Sitting back on my heels, I sighed as defeat weighed down my shoulders. There was nothing worse than losing a patient, even if was through no fault of my own. Another reason I’d moved to Crescent Cove. A new location should give me the opportunity to put the woman’s death behind me.

  A gust of wind pelted me with sand and slashed my hair across my face. Goosebumps erupted on my arms. I squinted around, realizing how isolated I was. As I stuffed the notebook into my pocket, clouds that had engulfed the moon parted. Light stabbed down, exposing the beach.

  The dead man.

  Me kneeling beside him.

  And a bearded man standing near the ocean.

  He started toward me. The tension on his face and the odd look in his eyes made me gulp back my shout for help.

  In his hand, he held a knife.

  Fear gripped my heart like a fist. I leaped up and bolted. Heavy thuds pursued me. Belly lurching into my throat, I pushed for speed. To be safe, I had to find people. I raced along the beach, aiming for the town lights blazing ahead like a beacon of hope.

  His hand slammed down on my shoulder, and I stumbled forward. A cry erupted from my throat. I twisted, trying to get away.

  When he yanked me toward him, I spun. My palm connected with his nose, and the bones gave with a sickening crunch. He grunted and released me, reaching for his face. Even wounded, he shoved the knife toward me, aiming for my belly.

  I reeled backward.

  He slashed out again, and the blade connected with the soft part of my arm.

  My yelp broke through my clenched teeth. Fingers clamped over the wound, I raced away from him. I staggered out onto a walkway well-lit with street lights. A parking lot half-full of vehicles lay ahead, plus a cop car sitting on the road just beyond the lot. Dressed in dark blue combat fatigues, a policeman leaned against the driver’s door, talking on a cell phone. Thank heaven. Mexican Federales might be known for questionable tactics and the random drug deal on the side but they were also known for the weapon they carried: an assault rifle.

  I’d never been happier to see a gun-toting man in my life.

  I rushed toward him. A quick glance behind told me the killer had melted into the shadows. Slowing my pace with relief thrumming through me, I limped over to the cop. Blood dripped down my arm, leaving a wavering trail on the pavement. My blood, and I was losing it fast. My teeth chattered as reaction set in.

  “Señora?” Kudos to the cop for only blinking once at my appearance. He stuffed his phone into his pocket while another policeman leaned across the vehicle’s interior, squinting up at me.

  “A man,” I gasped out, waving toward the beach. “Killed someone. Chased me. A knife. I called 911.”

  The cop grunted. “Español?”

  “Lo siento, no comprendo.” The apology I’d mastered within moments of my arrival in Mexico. “Do you speak English?” The medical mission had supplied translators for my interactions with patients. I latched onto the cop’s arm. “Someone’s dead.” I mimicked a person stabbing someone and flapped my hands to show blood flowing from my stomach. “Muerto.”

  “Muerto?” The policeman peered around. A string of Spanish ensued, rapid-fire and growing louder.

  “Come to the beach.” I tried to tug him in that direction but he didn’t move.

  After opening the rear door of the car, he grabbed my arm and steered me in that direction.

  If he took me to the police station, someone would understand me and they’d investigate the situation. I climbed inside the vehicle.

  Hours later, I’d been quizzed by a series of Federales, repeating who I was and what happened. Losing more of my voice with each repetition. My brain spun, making it hard to think. Skepticism grew on their faces, and if my appearance hadn’t suggested I’d committed a murder, they probably would’ve hustled me out the front door.

  They’d taken my cell phone or I would’ve called Flint. Begged he and the guys to swoop in and save me because I’d become useless at saving myself.

  They took me to a trope interrogation room with a solitary high window covered with bars and a bare lightbulb suspended from the ceiling. A scarred table with equally scarred wooden chairs sat in the middle. And a big mirror hung on one wall, reflecting my snarled red hair, my sallow face, my blood-spattered sundress.

  I held back hysterical tears. Cold had sunk into my bones, and I couldn’t stop trembling.

  Shadows lurked behind the mirrored glass. Not a simple looking glass, then, but a way to observe me. Or wait me out, hoping I’d turn into a weak, sniveling mass who’d spill whatever information they demanded. My quaking knees told me I wasn’t far from cracking.

  I collapsed in a chair and tucked up my legs, wrapping my arms around them. With my chin propped on my knees, I stared forward blankly. If only this nightmare would end.

  The door opened and a dark-suited man entered. He studied my face for a long moment before taking the chair opposite mine.

  “Buenos noches.” He rested his arms on the table, his hands clasped together. His relaxed expression was negated by the sharp look in his eyes.

  “Lo siento—”

  “I speak English.” He flicked his hand my way. “Please, explain what happened, Señorita.”

  Taking a deep breath, I repeated what I’d told the other cops. When I finished, he said nothing, just rose and left the room.

  Silence kept pace with the second hand on the clock.

  When he returned, he sat and studied me while I shifted in the chair. Finally, he said, “We went to the beach. There was no dead body. No blood. No imprint in the sand.”

  I sputtered. “A man was murdered. He’d died right in front of me. Really.” I tugged my dress away from my chest, flapping the red-splotched material. “This isn’t my blood. Well, some of it is, from my arm.” I showed him the bandage. Four inches long, my wound needed stitches. They’d given me a first aid kit, and I’d applied a pressure dressing, the best I could do for now.

  “Dead bodies do not rise and walk away on their own.”

  Hold on. I pulled the notebook from my pocket and laid it on the table between us. “He told me to give this to…” I shook my head, because the details were murky. “He died before he could tell me.”

  Lifting it, the cop flipped through the pages before tossing it back on the table with a smack. “I believe you spent too much time in the sun today, Señorita. You found someone sleeping in the sand. Not a wounded man, let alone one who was dying.” He chuckled, but his grim expression sent fear rippling through me. “As for the man chasing you with a knife, you imagined the entire incident. The cut and the blood on your dress came from a fall. This book p
roves nothing.”

  “That’s not true. It’s…” I snatched the notebook up and opened it. My vision swam. The pages were blank.

  Shoving back his chair, the cop stood. He dropped my phone onto the table with a clatter. “Call Flint to come get you.”

  I blinked up at him. “How do you know my brother’s name?”

  “Your flight leaves early tomorrow morning,” he said pleasantly. His eyes bored into mine, his stare alone ensuring I’d understand what he said next. “Never return to Mexico. Tell your brother you were robbed. You came to the station to report the incident.” He leaned forward, palms braced on the scarred surface. “Forget what you saw on the beach.”

  “But—”

  “Speak of this matter, and we will find you.” He smirked. “But first, we will find Flint.”

  At my frantic nod, he left the room.

  Half sobbing, I called my brother and stuttered out the fake story of a robbery. After, I set the phone on the table and dropped my head into my folded arms.

  Not long later, Eli stormed into the room. “Mia,” he shouted. “Are you okay? Flint’s busy with Jax and Coop so he sent me.”

  I stared at the cop, who watched us closely.

  Eli glanced around and stiffened. “Jesus, this is…” His glare fell on the suited policeman. “What the hell did you do to her?”

  My chair toppled backward as I stood. I stumbled forward, meeting Eli partway around the table. His arms wrapped around me, and I leaned into him, shaking.

  “Ms. Crawford is upset,” the cop said. “Which, after her unfortunate experience, is natural. I’m sure she will be fine once she returns home.” His intent gaze focused on me, a lead weight around my ankle in deep water. “You and your brother live in Crescent Cove, Maine, am I correct?”

  “Where she lives doesn’t matter,” Eli said, and to me, “Let’s get you out of here. I can’t believe you’ve been here for hours.” Stepping back, he braced my arms and studied my face. “Why didn’t you call us right away?”

  “I…” My gaze flitted to the cop’s.

  His intent gaze fell on Eli, and I knew the warning included him, as well.