The sea was busy taking over what was left of the old ship. It had become a favorite artificial reef for divers, and he spotted barracuda, rays, and spadefish. He couldn’t wait until Hailey was old enough to dive and experience all the underwater wonders.
The thought was barely gone when Joe felt something clasp around his leg. The cuff was made to clamp as soon as the sea lion bumped it against something. He caught the gleam in Simon’s eye as the big sea lion zipped through the water back to the inflatable craft rolling with the waves above Joe’s head.
Joe grinned and gave a hand signal of approval to the sea mammal before a tug on the line attached to the cuff reeled him in like a caught fish. He didn’t fight and let his teammates bring him to the side of the boat.
When his head broke the surface of the waves, he spit out his mouthpiece to breathe in fresh salt air, then clambered over the side of the rubber raft. “I didn’t even see Simon coming this time.”
Danielle Maine handed him a bottle of water. “He’s getting it.”
His coworker was in her early thirties with short, curly brown hair and merry blue eyes that went even more cheerful when talking about her three-year-old twin girls. She had a special connection with the sea lions. Joe’s training team was a tight-knit group. They all lived on Jekyll Island and worked at the small compound Joe had leased from the state.
“I’ll bet you gave him crab, didn’t you?”
She sent an impish smile his way. “And what if I did?”
“Nothing. Just figuring out where I went wrong.” Joe took a swig of water and turned to Tyrone Walsh, the third member of the team. “How long did he take to find me?”
“Three minutes.”
Tyrone had a deep voice that reminded Joe of James Earl Jones, and he even looked a little like a young version of the actor. In his late twenties, Tyrone had tremendous focus and determination.
A flipper slapped against the side of the boat, and Joe turned around with a grin when Simon barked. “Come for more crab, Simon?” He reached into the bucket and tossed a soft-shelled crab to the sea lion, who gobbled it up before it had time to sink an inch.
Something in the sea lion’s mouth glinted in the morning sunshine, and Joe squinted at Simon. “What do you have, big guy?”
He held up another crab, and the sea lion swam near enough for Joe to reach into his mouth to retrieve what Simon had found. The item on Joe’s open palm was a small propeller that he recognized immediately as part of a thruster system on an underwater drone. It might belong to a fisherman or a hobbyist, but it might be something more ominous.
He showed it to his team. “I’m going down to take a look around. I’ll have Simon show me where he found it.”
He bit into his mouthpiece and inhaled stale canned air, then adjusted his mask before he fell backward into the blue water. The waves embraced him in a warm caress, and he swam past a school of rock beauty angelfish. Their striking yellow-and-black markings stood out in stark contrast to the gray rocks. Simon swam beside him, and the fish scattered at the sea lion’s approach. Simon seemed to realize why Joe was in the water, and he propelled ahead toward the seafloor just under a rocky outcropping.
Joe followed Simon down toward the HLHA artificial reef. The reef included Liberty ships, concrete rubble, subway cars, barges, and even M60 battle tanks. Coral grew everywhere, and the interesting shapes and sunken ships made for an exciting dive. A sea turtle swam lazily by, and colorful fish darted out of its way. Simon looked back as if to make sure Joe followed before he slipped through the coral-encrusted window of a subway car.
Joe paused and peered inside. Simon had disappeared. He kicked his fins and focused on the steady in and out of oxygen until he was inside, where he clicked on his flashlight. The beam of light found Simon waiting for him in the corner. Joe swam over to join the sea lion and saw what the mammal had found—a broken underwater drone.
The thing was no toy and clearly cost a lot of money. It wasn’t a hobbyist drone but something a hostile swimmer or spy would use.
Joe glanced around the dark compartment but only fish and stingrays moved past the window openings. He’d have to report this to the Navy commander over the sea mammal project, who would know if a threat had been reported.
Joe gave the hand signal of approval to Simon, who swam around him a few times in delight before they both exited the subway car and headed for the surface.
Hopefully this was nothing.
* * *
Lisbeth was the last person to have sat in this office chair.
Torie ran her fingers over the top of the chair bathed in blue light from the computers. She could almost hear her best friend’s tinkle of laughter. No one laughed like Lisbeth, that special combination of pure joy and sweet spirit. Torie’s vision blurred, and grief tightened her throat.
The room was tiny, and her claustrophobia made her feel antsy so she opened the blinds on the small window. Being able to look out onto the lawn made her breathe a little easier.
Her suitcases had arrived yesterday, so she’d spent all day unpacking and organizing things to her liking after receiving a grocery order through Instacart. She’d thought to find a church, but it could wait a week. She had no car, but it was a short bike ride to the hotel and anywhere else on the small island.
She swept her gaze over the room filled with computers and monitors. Three desks were crammed together by the walls, and the beige wall color did nothing to brighten the room’s feel. Her new boss stood in the doorway behind her.
Kyle Ballard’s red hair didn’t appear to have been combed this morning, and it stuck out in clumps all over the top of his head. His shirt looked like it had been slept in. “This bank of computers is connected to all our security cameras around the complex.”
Torie turned toward him. “How long do we keep the footage?”
“About six months.”
“Whoa, that’s a long time.”
“Mr. Bergstrom is adamant about providing security.” The man dropped his tall frame in front of a large desk that was as messy as he was. “Our internet system is state of the art, and it seldom goes down, but when it does, you might be summoned in the middle of the night to help fix it. High rollers like our guests expect the very best in service. They aren’t content to wait until breakfast if they need to be online at two in the morning.”
No surprise there. Torie cut her teeth on learning the importance her parents put on customer service and happy repeat guests. “I’ll make sure my phone is on the nightstand. Are we able to log in remotely to handle problems?”
He lifted a brow. “You’re like less than a five minute walk from the office, so no. I’ll expect you to get your butt in here and take care of the problem. You’ll follow up with a personal call to the guest, and you’ll wait around to ensure everything is working as it should.”
That was something she would change when this was all over. The employees didn’t need to go to the office to fix things. Not in this day and age. “Got it.”
“The majority of our time is spent keeping an eye on the cameras around the property and notifying security if we see anything out of the ordinary or suspicious.”
She suspected that was a duty he enjoyed. Kyle’s brown eyes seemed too likely to roam away from a woman’s face and head south. Hopefully he didn’t hang out in the office all the time.
She stashed her bag in an empty desk drawer and logged on to the computer with her new credentials. Once he left the office, she planned to go over every byte of security footage of Lisbeth’s time here. Especially on the day she died. The fact the footage still existed was an unexpected boon.
Kyle plopped into his chair. “I heard you had a break-in on Saturday night. When Joe told me about it, I pulled the recording from the camera nearest your cottage. We don’t have as many in the cottage quarter as we do in the guest section, but there’s one that picks up your back door. I didn’t see anything.”
“The front door was open, so I assume
the intruder got in that way.”
“Any trouble after Joe cleared the place?”
“No.”
Unless he considered someone accessing her music “trouble.” She had been on edge ever since Saturday night and had heard every croaking frog and loud cricket. She’d bought alarms for the doors that went off if anyone touched the doorknob, but the place had stayed blessedly quiet after Joe had mentioned the possibility of a hijacked remote. Her remote was still on the component shelf, but anyone could have programmed another one.
His speculative stare gave her the creeps. Could he have done it? Possibly. But why? She should take a look at the footage herself.
Kyle jiggled his mouse, and a screen lit up. “Just a warning: things will be very busy tonight, and you’ll need to work. Game night tonight.”
“Game night?” Hailey had mentioned it to Torie, but she wanted to know more about it and her duties here.
“Guests love it. We don’t run it on Sunday since it tends to be an off day, but every other night, we have rotating games. Tonight is charades.”
With a lot of chaos and interaction, the chance of theft would be higher, though that didn’t seem to be a problem here. Torie had gone over all the issues the resort had seen in the past five years before she came. It had been remarkably quiet.
“How late should I plan to stay?”
“About ten. Things die down after that.”
She glanced at the clock on her desk. Starting time had been seven, and it was now half past. A long day, but if things stayed truly quiet, she’d have time to review that footage. “No problem.”
His mouth twisted as if he’d hoped she’d object. Was he looking for an argument or a way to throw his weight around? She’d dealt with people like that over the years, and it was best to defuse the situation when possible.
“Okay then.” He moved toward the door. “I’m going to get coffee. Want anything?”
“Not yet, thanks. I had coffee with breakfast this morning. I’ll grab some later. Thanks for showing me the ropes.” She kept her tone light and polite and prayed he’d just leave her alone.
In another moment the door latch clicked, and she glanced back to make sure he was gone. If only her screen didn’t face the room’s entry. She’d need to listen for any approaching footsteps.
She found the footage from Saturday night and set it to running. At first she thought Kyle was right and it showed nothing, but five minutes from the time she’d come home, she saw something move in the shrubbery. She paused the feed and leaned in to study it, then she let it run frame by frame. A figure moved by the tree near the back door. Unfortunately there wasn’t enough light to identify the person, but she watched the dark shadow move toward the front of the house until it vanished from sight.
She advanced the footage to just before ten. Her back door opened, and she watched herself take out the trash. Wait, was that a flash of light? She froze the frame and advanced slowly. A red light off in the bushes had briefly flashed. Maybe that was when her tormentor started the music. She played through several more frames and saw a hooded figure run to her back door and flip off the light, lock the doorknob inside, then shut the door.
What on earth? The figure was dressed all in black, and the hoodie obscured the face.
She copied the short footage over to a flash drive she’d brought. When she got home, she could enhance it and see if she could identify more clues.
While Kyle was gone, she called up the saved security files from around the resort and found the ones starting when Lisbeth arrived. She caught a glimpse of her friend three times in the first hour, and each time she had to blink back tears.
When she heard the doorknob rattle, she switched to another screen before Kyle saw what she was doing. There would be time later for more.
Chapter 8
Aunt Genevieve stood between Torie and the coffee shop.
Torie saw her aunt’s erect figure turn and stride toward her along the gleaming wood floors in the lobby. Coffee could wait. She reversed course and hurried for the ladies’ room, where she leaned against the door for a moment after it closed behind her.
She didn’t think Aunt Genevieve had seen her. She glanced around the restroom, which had been completely redone since she’d lived here. Gleaming copper bowls topped marble counters, and the stalls were sleek stainless walls. The mixture of old and new hit exactly the right note, and Torie knew her aunt had been behind the renovation. She had impeccable taste.
Torie stepped to the mirror and touched her head. Her coronet of braids didn’t have a hair out of place in spite of dashing in here. How long could she hide out in here before someone came in and gave her a suspicious stare?
She had worn jeans today and a pink tee, which looked way too casual to her, but she’d wanted to fit in with IT. Clothes made the woman, and she felt a little powerless in this outfit.
The decisive click of heels on wood came along the corridor, and she inhaled at the familiar staccato. Aunt Genevieve was coming this way. Torie closed her eyes and gulped.
Don’t come in here . . . don’t come in here.
Her plea was in vain when the door opened. Torie blinked, pasted on a smile, then turned toward the door.
Her aunt swept into the restroom, and the door shut soundlessly behind her. Her power suit was dark purple, and every hair was in place. Her gaze raked over Torie’s jeans and pink top, and she sniffed at the shell-pink polish on Torie’s toes. “I thought Kyle had instituted a dress code.”
Torie touched the soft denim on her hips. “Not that I’ve heard. We’re in a dungeon and don’t interact with the guests except by phone.” And Kyle was the last one she could see in a suit.
Her aunt smoothed her perfect blonde bob. “How is your first day going? Any problems?”
What would her aunt say if Torie told her she was working with a guy she could imagine peeping in her bedroom window? “No problems. He told me about the game night.”
“There’s even more news than that, which is why I chased you down. We have six banking executives arriving next week along with a couple of US senators. The structure of the Federal Reserve was hammered out here back in 1910, so it’s appropriate for them to return to discuss changes to the system here. I want it to be enjoyable for them, so I thought we’d do a variation on the usual float hunting the island does in January.”
“Float hunting?” It sounded vaguely familiar, but Torie couldn’t remember exactly what her aunt was referencing.
Genevieve turned toward the mirror and pulled a lipstick out of a drawer, then applied a coat of pink. She took a tissue and blotted before she turned back to face Torie. “It’s a throwback to the glass floats on the nets of fishermen in the nineteenth century. Collecting them was very popular in the 1950s, then fell off when commercial fishermen began to use Styrofoam and plastic ones. The Jekyll Island Authority commissioned glass artisans from all over the country to make floats, and we hide plastic ones in January and February that can be exchanged for the glass ones. Our own Amelia Rogers has agreed to make special floats for our guests to find during a scavenger hunt. Security will need to be very high all through the weekend. If we need to put up extra cameras, I want it done.”
“You’ve spoken to Kyle already?”
“Of course, but I wanted to make sure you realize you’ll be working that weekend with very little rest. I’ve authorized temp help after the officials leave so you and the rest of the staff can take a few days off to rest and recover.”
“I came here to work so I’m fine with the overtime.”
“Excellent news.” Her hazel eyes lingered on Torie’s face. “You remind me of someone, but I can’t put my finger on it. My sister always wore her hair like that so maybe that’s what I’m thinking of.”
A denial sprang to Torie’s lips, but she hated lies. When she hesitated, her aunt shook her head. “No matter. It will come to me. I have to attend to a problem in the dining room. Please come to me with any problems
you foresee that weekend.”
“Of course.”
Torie blew out a heavy exhale when her aunt left her alone. That was close. It was only a matter of time before Genevieve figured out who Torie was. Maybe she should confess, but she wanted to poke into things without the doors being slammed in her face. Once her aunt knew the reigning Bergstrom “princess” was on-site, she’d expect her to attend every fund-raising event and every boring tea thrown on the island. She wasn’t ready to be thrust into the spotlight like that. Not yet.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror again and touched her hair. Though her mother had been blonde, Torie wore her hair in the same coronet of loose braids as a way of honoring her mother’s memory. It was elegant, even if a little old-fashioned, but something about being here made her want to take it down and do things differently.
She waited a few discreet minutes, then slipped back out into the hall. The fragrance of sandalwood and pine was particularly potent when she stepped into the main lobby again, and she found herself moments later on the elevator with the top-floor button lit.
She emptied her mind as the elevator rose. When it stopped on the penthouse floor, she stepped out onto the thick carpet before she could change her mind. She hadn’t been sure she’d remember how to get up to the balcony in the tower, but her feet remembered the way to the elevator.
Go back.
The warning in her head couldn’t overcome her compulsion to go up there, to see the place she’d so successfully avoided for nearly two decades. Her steps echoed a bit in the enclosed stairwell, and she pushed open the door out onto the balcony. The sunshine hit her eyes, and she slammed them closed.
Torie’s heart wanted to pound out of her chest as the memories flooded back. She could feel them rising, fighting to become clear. But she didn’t want to think about the last day of her mother’s life.
She turned and ran for the exit.
* * *
The battered drone and its parts lay on the desk. Joe saw the moment his contact with the Navy tensed and realized his suspicions were on target. “Looks like a Russian military drone, doesn’t it?”
Stranger's Game Page 5