The twitchy feeling morphed into a definite itch.
Before attempting to stand, he sat in the few liters of water to get accustomed to the ebb and flow of the sea. The liquid buffer inside helped him remain upright instead of tumbling as the ball rolled.
Abby tried to stand again. After falling the second time, she sat, pulled her knees to chest, and studied the situation. The liquid in her ball should’ve turned to steam.
The ocean’s surface glittered like diamonds, deceptive with its invitation to explore the beautiful, if deadly, secrets below. He wasn’t a fan of playing in the ocean when sensing an unidentifiable threat, yet they’d traveled halfway around the globe for the chance to unwind.
Construction of the dual layer sphere ensured the slight water intake wouldn’t alter their buoyancy, yet other dangers existed that he didn’t want Abby to face.
A pod of dolphins cavorting nearby added a thin film of normalcy to the day’s diversion. All in all, he preferred bright sun and a warm beach to exploring the wonders of staying in an ice hotel. Norway was her next planned adventure. He intended to show her the aurora borealis on a conventional tour.
“I’ve always wondered what a hamster felt like. Now, I know.” A muffled voice and chuckle didn’t dull her enthusiasm in trying to stand again. She smiled as her arms went wide and she landed on her butt then to her side as the ball rotated.
Royden moved to his hands and knees, getting a feel for the forces at work and forming a strategy for maintaining his stance. When he achieved a semi-upright position, he glanced over to see how Abby fared.
With her arms and legs spread wide, she couldn’t reach the edges, but she stood, swaying with the water’s movement. It was moments like this with her fears cast aside that her expression revealed the spirit he loved.
His thumbs up received like in kind but altered her balance.
A small gust of wind turned her sphere sideways just as her ball exploded. Crimson flecks sprayed the clear plastic as it detonated, folding in on itself and slowly smothering its occupant.
He hadn’t heard the first shot, nor the following three that jettisoned through the water. No glint from the rifle on the shoreline’s low bluff or balcony had given warning.
Her shriek filled his mind. Images of a prior crime scene where a deviant smothered his child with plastic wrap flashed through his thoughts.
He couldn’t move fast enough.
Not only did the plastic mold to her body, but the weight of it dragged her beneath the water line. A splash behind him alerted him to the ship’s mate diving in to help.
Precious seconds passed before he could maneuver himself out of the sphere and into the cold saltwater. He had moments to find, retrieve, and remove her from the death trap.
White foam swells crashed over his head while visions of sharks scenting the blood heading their way filled his thoughts. Attacks were rare, but bloody swimmers didn’t normally take to the open sea. Not far away, Australia had the highest rate of fatal and unprovoked shark attacks in the world.
Cold seeping into his bones couldn’t compare to the panic sweeping through his chest. Time slowed and stretched out each fraction of movement, catalogued for future nightmares.
He waited for the bite of a bullet to end his struggle.
Feet from where he estimated her sinking, he angled his body down to intercept. Visibility turned poor with his first few strokes. Like a heat-seeking missile, he swam down, praying fate hadn’t swept her away. When his fingers touched plastic, he yanked upward at the same time someone else tugged. Together they hauled her toward the surface.
Resistance increased when he tried to raise her head above the water line to find an edge of plastic to peel back. Abby’s feeble struggles indicated her strength nearing an end. Her eyes pleaded for him to hurry, to keep her safe.
He needed a knife to cut her free.
“Back to the boat.” The ship’s hand yelled then swallowed water as a wave covered his head.
The deflated ball had taken on enough water to multiply its weight exponentially. If not for help, Royden wouldn’t have reached the boat at all. Powerful strokes cut through the water while Abby remained sealed inside her airless, watery coffin.
Flashbacks of the shot indicated she sustained a hit on her upper arm or shoulder. If not for the unstable base manipulating her position, the gunman could’ve killed her.
With the help of the captain who held one side of the flexible coffin, they maneuvered her to the landing, protected in part by the cabin. Royden’s mind inventoried potential suspects as they finagled her onto the solid surface.
Pockets of bloody water drained to leave the inflexible material clinging to her skin while relief from water pressure allowed the wound to bleed freely. Crimson pooled in the valley between her shoulder and upper breast but didn’t define the exact location of the injury.
She’d ceased struggling, eyes closed and chest unmoving. On a silent prayer, he briefly closed his eyes.
Once aboard, Royden yanked at the heavy material, unable to find an opening or edge.
“Wait. I’ll cut through it.” Captain Tanner took the knife offered by his ship’s mate and made several slices.
The utter stillness of her form cut a black swath through Royden’s soul. They’d traveled so far to get away from anything resembling danger, yet it found her anyway.
In denial of the sight presented, his analytical mind sought suspects he would hunt down as he scrambled to provide her air.
“Abby.” Royden pulled at the pieces covering her face to expose her mouth and nose then bent to feel any breath on his cheek. No air moved against his face.
Sliding two fingers down her throat, he couldn’t be certain if the weak throb originated from Abby or his own fingers. Panic blinded him to any future without her in it. “She’s not breathing. Either faint or no pulse.”
Pinching her nose, he tilted her head back and blew two breaths into her mouth, watching her chest rise in his peripheral vision. The water had been cold but not cold enough to preserve her body without oxygen.
The next instant, choking filled the air. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
Water spewed from her mouth as the three men turned her on her side where she continued to gasp and choke. With the help of the crewmember, the captain pulled the rest of the cloying plastic away from her body while Royden helped her settle on her back. Doffing his t-shirt, he used it to apply pressure to her wound.
She groaned.
Royden’s measured look added weight to his assumption in addressing the captain. “I doubt whoever took the shot hung around, but you’d best stay low while getting us the hell out of here.”
The captain nodded then moved forward in a crouch to keep the cabin between himself and the shoreline.
“I thought I was going to die.” Tears filled her eyes.
“Not yet, Abs. We’re far from done.”
“Yeah... I haven’t been able to knock you on your ass, yet.” Self-defense classes entailed a less risky attempt to maintain control of her life and regain confidence. She challenged mental and physical constraints in every manner possible.
“Looks like you’ll have an excuse for that—at least for a few weeks.” Cradling her to his chest came as natural as the precious breath she exhaled. “I’m gonna take you below.”
Pasty white despite time spent outdoors, her pale skin contrasted her widened eyes, blue as the cloudless sky. Her body continued to tremble long after he got her below deck and wrapped in a blanket.
Soothing murmurs continued to pour from a well deep inside him, a source that raged at her attacker and mourned for her immediate future filled with fear and pain.
In the end, he held himself to blame for failing to heed his instincts. The through-and-through wound could easily have pierced both their hearts.
THE HOSPITAL STAY provided a breather despite her ready-to-leave assurances. The fact she’d stopped breathing necessitated an overnight s
tay in a private room and armed guard by the door, the latter ensured after numerous calls from concerned stateside brothers.
By late afternoon, her nervous energy converted to an inclination to act. “C’mon Roy. We’ve been here for hours. All I have is a few stitches. I want to go home.” Her gaze roamed over the hospital room, from the door to the window overlooking the busy street below.
After speaking with the sergeant in CIB, Royden needed to see for himself the nest where the shooter had lain in wait. The flip side equaled leaving Abby’s side and praying she’d stay put.
“Yes, your injury should heal without problems, but you were breathless, if only for a short time, and since the doctor wanted you to stay until morning, we stay. That was saltwater you inhaled, and you stopped breathing.”
Murmured words spoken by the officer in the hallway drifted in the cool night. All remained quiet outside.
“I know, but only for a few seconds. It’s just that this place, well, it reminds me of...”
“I know it does, Abs, but this is for your safety. As soon as the doctor makes his rounds in the morning, we’ll leave. I promise.” He sat beside her bed, holding her hand, knowing he’d have to soon let go.
If he could calm her enough to make her see reason, it would buy him an hour to get an update on the investigation and examine any evidence found.
Stalling her brothers took Herculean effort. Their intent to arrive en masse on New Zealand’s shores would’ve further unsettled Abby. As it was, the local detective in charge called Royden with each telephone interrogation from the eldest sibling.
The last conversation apparently held a bit of an edge. Familiar with McAllister tactics, Royden assured the locals he and Abby would return stateside within twenty-four hours.
Uncharacteristic vulnerability blanketed her spirit since first opening her eyes and vomiting seawater. Mentally, she’d taken a step back to the night of escaping an underground prison.
He covered her hands to keep her from picking at her nails, something she’d never before done. His heart wept for the regression transpiring before his eyes.
“Talk to me, sweetheart.”
“I died, Roy. For a few seconds, I actually died. I know it... There are things I still want to do, to experience.”
“And?” He would’ve moved Heaven and Earth to bring her back. She didn’t understand it yet, but she wasn’t going anywhere without him.
Various emotions strafed her expression, none settling for more than a heartbeat. It was clear she wanted to yield to the pressure building up inside, but an unknown entity held back the words and tears glistening in her gaze.
Be patient. It takes time to regain equilibrium. She wasn’t ready to hear the declaration clawing the inside of his chest to get out. She belonged by his side, forever, but had to heal both physically and emotionally. The ring in his pocket would come to form a prison if she wasn’t strong enough to stand on her own.
Tears gathered but failed to yield gravity’s pull. “I want children, someday. I want...”
“Yes? What do you want most of all?”
An angry swipe across her face restored her determination to not surrender to anything resembling weakness. “I want lots of things. And no dirtball with a rifle is going to take them away.”
She locked gazes with the fierceness of a warrior. “Do the police have any suspects?”
“They found an impression in the sand on the bluff where they think the shooter positioned himself. Since he policed his brass, we have no leads.”
“But you want to go see for yourself.” A half smile kicked up one corner of her mouth.
“I’d like to. There’s an armed guard on your door—there until we leave.”
“Answer a few questions and you can go. His footwear?”
“Generic, men’s size ten they think.
“They think?”
“Sand doesn’t exactly hold impressions well.”
“Damn. We have no idea why.” Her other hand fisted in the bed blanket.
“I can’t imagine someone following us from the states. It’s possible this was a random act.” He watched her brows hike up when he moved to sit on the bedside. Any distance between them felt like too much.
“We’ve had little interaction with other tourists except for snorkeling and water sports. Damn, I just want to go home and put this behind us.”
“From here, we’re heading to the airport. Either we go back to Portland, or we can make a stopover in Texas. I haven’t seen my family for a while, so if you’d like to go—”
“I’ve never been there, much less seen where you grew up, but I don’t want to meet them under these circumstances.”
“That’s fine.” He hesitated, not liking the choice fate had thrown him. He didn’t want to leave, not even for an hour.
She wouldn’t show it, but she’d be scared and that was untenable. “Listen, while we have an armed guard, I’m going to slip back to the hotel and get our things after I meet with their investigator at the beach.”
A measured look accompanied her admonition, “Be careful, cowboy. He may want you, too.”
OFF DUTY SERGEANT MACNEMIRE of the Criminal Investigation Branch leaned against his vehicle in the hotel’s lot with a grim expression. Jeans and rolled-up sleeves indicated the length of his day.
As a psychologist and trained investigator, Royden knew they’d find little from the reports received, but the stakes were too high to leave anything to chance. “Thank you for meeting me here after work. I know this situation is trying at best.”
“More like perplexing. For all the years I’ve been on the force, this is a new one for me. Why someone would make an attempt under those circumstances is a mystery. The better shot would’ve been while she was onboard or on land.”
Gesturing toward the open reedy ground to his side, the officer led Royden through wild grasses and around small dunes to an area marked off with stakes and tape.
“I hadn’t noticed it from our balcony’s vantage point, but I see why no one’s built along here.”
“Yes, the ground dips very low in this area. In her statement, Ms. McAllister said you two have kept to yourselves while here.”
“Yes. I can’t believe a local would want her dead. Back in the states is a different story.”
“Her brothers filled me in. All of them, actually.” One arched brow spoke volumes.
“Sorry about that. They are a bit much at times.”
“It’s all right. I’d be the same way if I had a sister. As I said on the phone, there’s not much to see except for a couple footprints in the moister sand.”
Royden looked back at the hotel, then the surrounding area. “You said there’s no video on nearby buildings.”
“No. And with this area unsuitable for much other than snakes and lizards, there’s not a lot of foot traffic.”
Royden pointed to two rounded impressions where broken grass indicated a body had probably lain. “About eighteen inches apart—Bipod?”
“We think so. The spot is nestled between two dunes, protecting the shooter between setup and cleanup.”
“If he were skilled, he would’ve timed it better. I’d estimated the shore better than a hundred yards at the time.”
“But he knew enough to pick a secluded spot. If he carried his gear in a backpack and dressed appropriately, he wouldn’t arouse suspicion walking along the beach.”
“These footprints look about a size—” He’d expected a dead end, but the reality of it set his mind to whirling with possibilities of what came next.
“Men’s size ten or eleven. We’ll know more soon, but initial estimates are that the tread pattern is common. I doubt we can track them to a specific shop even if they were purchased on the island.”
“So, we’re probably looking for a man, a little shorter than my height. Looks like he put more weight on this foot.” Royden pointed to the heel of one print. “He might be nursing an injury to his knee or foot.”
&
nbsp; “Which could be temporary.”
“I’m going to grab our bags before going back to the hospital. But thank you for the professional courtesy.” Royden shook the offered hand.
“I’m sorry your first visit to our country has ended in tragedy.”
Royden nodded. “Intuition says trouble is going to follow us home.”
Chapter Two
The saltwater breeze sifting through her hair taunted Abby with memories of suffocation and swallowing water. Panic continued to swell within her chest with flashbacks of confusion, dizziness, and pain.
A deep shudder shifted her spine. Royden had spent the night at her bedside, keeping her mind occupied after nightmares jerked her awake with sweat sheathing her face and nausea swelling in her belly. The plastic smile she’d fastened in place hadn’t fooled him, but that and verbal reassurances did keep him from prodding her with leading questions.
He’d held his tongue, waiting for her to break, not realizing she maintained equal determination to hold strong. Growing up with five brothers ensured her many layers of virtual armor remained impervious.
The cost to his mental faculties manifested in hair bearing evidence of repeated finger combing, a gesture of frustration. An air of quiet strength surrounded him, along with that aura of danger backed by a solidly built frame and iron self-control. He was her rock in any storm.
Now, he kept her tucked against his side as they made their way to the parking garage and their vehicle.
Plans for their stateside arrival had changed as the night waned. Instead of going home, she agreed to spend several days with Royden, ostensibly to recover.
A deep inhalation reaffirmed her victory over death, despite its remnants lingering in the back of her thoughts. She wondered if the dark shadow of tragedy would dissipate or instead, mold itself to her form like a second skin.
“You cold?” Royden removed his jacket and set it gently around her shoulders.
It wasn’t the Kevlar bubble he’d obviously prefer, but it felt good to have him surround her in any fashion. Once in the shade of the garage, he urged her forward, increasing their pace. Too many shadows held sway, too many potential threats among the rows and rows of vehicles.
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