by Dana Mentink
Lexie sighed and turned her attention to the fading light through the window. Why did life have to be so complicated? Now was not the time or place for a walk down memory lane, despite Shaun’s earlier eagerness for it. Getting him out of her business had to be the first priority or she’d get nothing done. If she could ditch Mr. Wannabe Superhero and investigate the attack on her own, maybe she could shove away the memories of Nikki for a little while longer.
She jumped at a sudden touch on her shoulder, but relief flooded through her body when a paper coffee cup with her name scrawled on the side crossed her field of vision. She took it and placed her folder on the coffee table. One seat over, Shaun took a sip from his own cup while scanning the room. He had a quiet strength about him, an air of confidence that made her want to trust him—despite the lumberjack outfit and his two-day scruff. That was new. At nineteen, but he’d kept his appearance immaculate, despite working in a dusty village in rural Africa. Nikki had found it appealing. Lexie had found it pretentious and ignorant. Now, it gave him a rugged handsomeness that made Lexie shift uncomfortably in her seat.
A stray curl of light brown hair escaped from underneath his toque, and Lexie resisted a sudden urge to lean forward and brush it out of his eyes. Shame blossomed in her belly. How could she even think that way, after how he’d hurt her sister? Heat stung her eyes, and Lexie blinked away another rising tide of memories and guilt. She needed to refocus on the job she’d come here to do. Her fingers tightened on the coffee cup, and she savored the sensation of fresh, hot coffee dancing across her tongue, heating her up from the inside. She held on to that, pulling her attention away from Shaun’s searching gaze.
A few minutes later, two blue-uniformed ferry employees entered the lounge and scanned the room as though looking for someone. Before Lexie made the mental connection, Shaun had crossed the distance and ushered them out of the lounge and into the hallway. Security personnel! She tried to sit upright and push herself out of the chair, but her limbs felt heavy. She blinked, trying to clear a growing haze in her vision. The sounds around her grew muffled. Wasn’t the coffee supposed to keep her—
“Lexie?”
Lexie’s eyes fluttered open. She jerked up in her seat and stared at Shaun, whose look of concern had turned into a satisfied smirk. “What happened? I was about to follow you, but—”
“Need another coffee?” Shaun ran his fingers through his mop of hair, toque nowhere to be seen. “Though we should probably get you to your bunk. You can’t sleep here overnight.”
“It’s not like I planned to do so.” Had she been more tired than she’d realized? Lexie yawned and lifted her coffee cup from where she’d rested it between her hip and the chair. She raised the cup to take a sip, but set it down again in disappointment when no warmth radiated through the lid. A fresh cup would be nice, but she’d already accepted too much charity from someone who might as well be a stranger. Eight years was a long time. “It’s okay, thanks. I want to do a little more thinking before I turn in for the night. And talk to security on my own. I can’t believe you talked to them without me.”
The smirk slipped, and he rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I thought you were following me to talk with them, honest. When I looked back and saw you weren’t with us, I figured you’d changed your mind about letting me do the talking.”
“I didn’t plan to fall asleep. It was sudden. I just blacked out.”
Shaun frowned. “Can I see your cup?” She handed it to him and he sniffed the contents. “No strange smell. You sure you’re not just exhausted from what happened downstairs?”
“I wish you’d stop acting like I’m incapable of rational thought. You’re the one who left the cups unattended while you cleaned up a toy spill. Maybe…maybe I was drugged. My name is on the cup here, plain as day.”
“You’re right.” He rubbed his hand across his face. “But why would someone drug your coffee, Lexie?”
She rested her head against the back of her seat. “I don’t know. It sounds crazy. And why me? I should call the police.”
Shaun pulled a phone out of his pocket and waved it at her. “The reception out here is terrible, and I’ve already talked to security. But if you’re determined, I know exactly where the police station is in Argentia. I can show you the way once we dock.”
She scowled at him, considering his offer. If he’d already talked to security, what good would her statement do? “Won’t that be too late? The guy will have escaped by then.”
“For all we know, he might have already jumped ship. But we’d cast off when I found you on the parking deck, and no one can survive more than a minute or two in ocean waters at these winter temperatures. Tell you what, we’ll call the police station as soon as we get cell service back. Deal?”
It sounded reasonable. That way the ship could be locked down and searched before anyone disembarked. “Deal.”
Shaun nodded and locked his fingers together, stretching his arms in front of him. “All right. Let’s have a look at the folder, then. Maybe that contains some clues about why someone would go to the trouble of making sure you’d be asleep for a few minutes.”
Lexie glanced at her lap and at the coffee table where Shaun’s cup sat. “Don’t you have it?”
Shaun shook his head and pointed at her bag. “Didn’t you put it away when I brought the coffee over?”
Alarm bells rang in Lexie’s head. “No, I thought I’d look through it when the caffeine kicked in. It was right here, I had my eye on it when you handed me the coffee.” She refused to entertain the obvious notion before exploring all other possibilities.
She knelt on the floor and looked under the chairs and table, while Shaun stood and surveyed the area around them. They both came up empty-handed.
“It’s gone,” Lexie said, panic rising in her chest. “How can it be gone? I took a few sips and it sat right here, while you were—”
“Talking to security,” he said in a flat voice. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but someone may have come by and taken it. Best-case scenario, it was a passenger playing a prank, or someone mistook your folder for theirs.”
He left the other option unspoken, but Lexie saw it in his eyes. He feared that the man who’d assaulted her had drugged her so he could steal it while she slept.
“All my notes are in there.” Lexie groaned, reality setting in. “My photo of the girl I’m looking for, plus sensitive information on contacts.”
Shaun frowned and scanned the room again. “You left a folder with sensitive information on a table? In a public area?”
“I didn’t plan on falling asleep.”
“I only walked away for a few minutes.” He grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair. “Not good. Someone’s watching you. Whatever information you have in that folder, it’s important to them. Or they suspect it might be. Combined with the attack earlier, it seems like the situation is more serious than you thought. This girl might be in a lot of danger.”
“I know.” Lexie’s voice carried across the room, and she felt her cheeks warm as several passengers turned to look at her. “I know,” she continued, voice quieter. “But it’s not like I expected someone to drug my coffee. It’s not like I’ve done this before.”
“Done what? Look for someone?” Shaun’s eyebrows scrunched together as Lexie flopped back down into her chair. “I thought you said you worked for a missing-persons organization.”
She nodded, feeling a weight in her chest. “I do. But I haven’t tackled a search like this on my own before. I’ve spent several years proving I’m capable and trustworthy enough for a solo project, and now that I’m VP, I can’t mess it up.”
“Do you have a backup copy somewhere?”
Lexie shrugged. “I might be able to access some of it on my phone through email or cloud storage. The rest is on file at the office, which I could have someone scan and send to me.” She dug through her bag for her phone, hope surging—until she looked at the reception icon in the upper right c
orner. Still no bars. “No signal, but you’re right, I’ve had trouble getting decent reception for the past day or so. Maybe they haven’t turned on the wireless yet?”
“I think they have an internet kiosk elsewhere on the ship.” Shaun reached down and picked up her bags. “Let’s find your room first. While you’re getting set up, I’ll find out where the kiosk is and then come back to walk you there. Sound like a plan?”
Sure, except for the part where he watched over her as though she was a china doll. “I’ll be fine walking around on public decks. If whoever took the folder had wanted to hurt me, wouldn’t they have done it then? Why go to all the trouble of potentially drugging my coffee?”
Shaun adjusted her bags on his shoulder. “Because the room was still full of other people. The coffee was likely a crime of opportunity—which we’ll report as soon as we can. But if you happen to get lost down a corridor, or take a wrong turn and end up alone…” He shook his head when she tried to protest. “Maybe they only wanted the folder, sure. Maybe this is about something else. I can’t answer that, I can only assess the risk—and the risk here is losing sight of the possibility that it might not have been an accident, or that having the information in your file will incite a reaction.”
Lexie tried to come up with a reply that let him know how she felt about his insistence on trying to insert himself into a situation that didn’t pertain to him, when a muffled, crunching noise interrupted everyone’s conversations. The ship shuddered, and Lexie’s heart leaped into her throat. “What was that?”
Around the room, worried faces searched for ferry staff, while many of the passengers in the room continued as they were. Before Lexie could ask Shaun if he knew anything, he’d already flagged down a passing attendant.
“Ice,” he said, turning back to Lexie. “It’s normal during winter months, but if we can hear the cracking, it means we’re moving through a thick patch. The ship is fine.”
Lexie noted that he looked back at the attendant a second time and followed his gaze. Several people in employee uniforms were making the rounds throughout the lounge, stopping to reassure passengers who demanded to know what they’d heard. Lexie crossed her seating area to look out the nearest window, but it had grown too dark outside to see anything.
And then Shaun was at her side, looking outside with her. Much to her annoyance, having him nearby felt comforting. She blamed it on the lure of familiarity. Definitely not attraction.
“Nature is unpredictable,” he said. “But it’s winter, so I guess they expect this kind of thing. It’ll be fine. Let’s get you to your cabin.”
Lexie struggled for composure, not wanting to reveal just how scary the ship’s shudder had been. Her brain knew how unlikely it was for a ship of this size to capsize—and as far as she knew, there’d never been a serious accident on this ferry crossing route—but her legs felt shaky as the crunching continued at random intervals. She didn’t even have the strength to protest as Shaun touched her elbow and led her away from the window, escorting her through the ship’s corridors to find the passenger cabins on the deck below.
The cabin deck hallways were narrow, providing just enough room for two people to pass each other or for a wheelchair to navigate successfully. At room forty-two, Lexie dug the key card out of her pocket and unlocked the door.
She’d reserved the smallest, most austere room they offered—the coach of ferry cabins—and the bunk bed on the left wall gave the place a college dorm feel. The rest of the room contained a desk and chair, a little bathroom and shower, and a window that overlooked the ocean. It was no Hilton Suites, but it would do for an overnight trip.
“Thanks,” she said, when Shaun pushed past her to place her bags on the floor. “But you didn’t need to carry those.”
“It’s nothing.” He folded his arms and glanced around the room. “Basic amenities? And I bet you fly coach, too.”
“Of course. I’m being responsible with company funds. What’s your point?”
He shrugged and exited the room, tapping on the door frame. “I bet your sister wouldn’t go for this. If Nicola were here, she’d—”
Lexie’s temper flared. How dare he even speak her name? “Because you’re an expert on my family? Please, tell me more.”
Shaun stepped back, his face a mask of confusion. “I was just suggesting—”
“Stop suggesting, then.” If he hadn’t lead her sister on and then broken her heart eight years ago, well, they wouldn’t even be here right now.
“Fine.” Shaun exhaled through his nose, clenching his jaw. “I’m going to go find out where the computers are. I recommend you stay here and lock the door. Don’t open it to anyone except me. I’ll knock twice, wait ten seconds, and then knock once.”
Lexie stared at him. When had Shaun become a conspiracy nut? The guy had no idea how this kind of thing worked. “I don’t see why I can’t come with you.”
“Safety,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance.
“The only person in danger here is the girl I need to find. And I can’t find her without the information from that folder.” Did he really think she’d act carelessly after the events of the past hour?
Shaun raised his hands, the corners of his mouth turning down into a scowl. “Lexie, I need you to listen—”
Another crunching noise reverberated throughout the ship and Lexie put her hand on the wall to steady herself. The ship shuddered more violently this time, and the noise continued instead of quieting. Her heartbeat sped up, pounding in her ears.
“You think that’s normal?” Lexie almost spat the words at Shaun, whose scowl had vanished, replaced by concern. “Pretty sure ferries aren’t supposed to sound like a bag of chips when they sail.”
He shook his head and caught her gaze. Lexie stopped the gasp that threatened escape. He was worried, and he wasn’t trying to hide it. For some reason, that made her feel better. Despite their acquaintance being separated by almost a decade, a familiar face in a moment of uncertainty helped to quell her immediate panic.
“Keep the door closed. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything rash.”
She shut the door behind him, despite wanting to slam it in sudden anger at his parting comment. Who did he think he was, telling her not to do anything rash? He didn’t know her. Or her sister. Not anymore, anyway, and he’d made it quite clear all those years ago that he didn’t care to. Lexie sucked in a deep breath, trying to ease the tingle of adrenaline. The last thing she needed was to lose control of her emotions. She had a job to do, and if Shaun insisted on being a part of it, surely she could put up with an annoying hero-wannabe for a little while longer. He had potentially saved her life, after all. When she got the information from her folder back, she’d politely ask him to stop distracting her for the rest of the trip.
She sat on the bed and drew her knees up to her chest, feeling resolute, yet unable to shake the strangeness of Shaun’s confused reaction to her words moments ago. This was not the time to dwell on it, though. She needed to focus, and Shaun would provide nothing but distraction.
So why did she feel a pang of regret at the thought of sending him away?
*
Shaun wandered through the ferry’s halls, wincing at the unending crunch and jar of the ship. Worried faces peeked out of cabin doors, and there were fewer employees around than there had been a few minutes before. Had they all run off to find out what was happening? Hopefully, that meant there would be a ship-wide announcement to reassure the passengers before they started mobbing the captain’s quarters. The thought of having Lexie’s assailant amidst the mob of angry, scared passengers didn’t sit well—it would provide the perfect cover for her to be injured, or worse.
The muscles in Shaun’s neck tensed as he thought about Lexie’s shock at losing her folder. Hadn’t she been the more docile of the Reilly sisters? But now after less than an hour with her, it wouldn’t surprise him if she’d left the room the moment he was out of sight. It was bizarre that t
hey’d ended up on the same ship bound for the same place, but even stranger was Lexie’s reaction to his question about her sister. He regretted not delving further into that immediately, but she’d reacted with such hostility that he’d let instinct take over and backed off.
Not exactly the mark of a superspy, allowing himself to be rattled by an attractive woman from his past. Did he find her attractive? Sure, in a platonic, purely aesthetic… Oh, who was he trying to convince, anyway? She’d been the cute little sister before, but now? She’d blossomed, all right. Lexie had gumption to be in the missing-persons business, too. They’d make a good team if he could manage to quell her hostility. Letting her in on the details of his assignment might do just that, but protecting his alias could get tricky. On a typical assignment, he needed to protect his identity at all costs, but she knew his full name and they shared a past—albeit through another person, but it might be enough for a mission-destroying slipup. Bringing her in the loop, even a little, could help protect them both. He’d discuss it with HQ on his next checkin.
Shaun rounded a corner and saw a bank of computer cubicles through a set of glass doors at the end of the hall. He paused and had decided to go back to get Lexie when a scruffy employee in a white uniform pushed open one of the doors and strode toward him, purpose in his step.
“Excuse me,” Shaun said, pasting a smile on his face. “Can you tell me what’s happening with—” The employee shook his head in silence and brushed past Shaun without making eye contact.
“Excuse me?” Shaun raised his voice, staring after the employee. He wanted to give the man the benefit of the doubt—the ongoing noise was extremely worrisome—but it was no excuse to be rude. The man disappeared around the corner without another word. Some people. Shaun figured he might as well take a look inside the computer area to make sure the internet access was working.