Dead in the Water

by Janice Kay Johnson - His Best Friend's Baby

  Searching, apparently, although it eventually occurred to somebody to feed her and Adam, after which she was escorted to pick up her toiletries and clothes from her kayak before being left in what she felt sure was one of the senior officers’ cabins. The shower was tiny but functional. Washing her hair and shaving made her feel amazing. Finally, she dressed in clothes she always held back for the days she and Mike planned to spend a night in civilization—i.e. someplace with showers and real beds.

  Then she wiped the steam from the mirror and eyed herself. What she saw wasn’t as heartening as she’d hoped. Her sunburn was cycling through a couple of stages at the same time: fiery red and peeling. Her lips were cracked. As she’d seen with Adam, her face looked almost...gaunt.

  She slathered her face with cream, rubbed her lips with an ointment and called it good. At least she felt better.

  When she reappeared on the deck, she didn’t find Adam. A female crew member smiled at her and said, “Your partner is showering. He should be out soon.”

  Claire wandered to the rail. The small ship was moving fast, and when she scanned the closest land, she thought they might be heading north toward Princess Royal Island. Was the plan to leave her off at Klemtu instead of Bella Bella or Shearwater? But she suspected no one was thinking about her. They were searching for the rusty, decades-old freighter she’d really, really prefer never to see again.

  Wind whipped through her hair. Trying to corral it with one hand, she shivered and decided to go back to the borrowed cabin and add another layer or two for warmth. And maybe braid her hair.

  But just as she started to turn, an arm came around her. Startled, she looked up at Adam’s face.

  “You shaved,” she blurted.

  He laughed. “I do that now and again.” He studied her. “You’re still sunburned.”

  Scrunching up her nose hurt the tender skin, but she did it anyway. “Gee, I didn’t notice.”

  A smile lingered at the corners of his lips, but he didn’t say anything else, only tucking her close to him for warmth, serving as a wind block.

  After a few minutes, she couldn’t resist asking. “What did I miss?”

  “Not much. We’ve spread our net along the US border both to the north and south. Coast guard and other vessels are watching for the freighter out here in Queen Charlotte Sound and Hecate Strait, and in the passages and channels that make up the inside passage. Some helicopters and small planes are in the air, too.”

  “And we’re out here looking for it, too.”

  “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Part of me doesn’t want to hand over the hunt, but the other part...” He hesitated.

  She made sure he held her gaze when she asked the question that had been bothering her from the minute she realized the coast guard lifeboat wasn’t puttering back to dock in Shearwater again.

  “What if we do see it? I mean, except for us there are only nine people aboard. And...this is Canada. How well armed are their coast guard personnel? What kind of weapons do your former shipmates carry?” She bit her lip. “If we see the freighter and try to stop it, isn’t that kind of suicidal?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Adam admitted to sharing her reservations. That said, he doubted they’d be the ones to find the freighter. He hoped not; he’d be a lot happier if Dwayne and company were taken into custody by US authorities, rather than him having to take on the extradition hassle, or allow the Canadians to prosecute the traffickers.

  In fact, the coast guard lifeboat had been underway not much over an hour when he was told it was turning around, thanks to a desperate call from a capsized sailboat. They were the closest help to hand.

  This was going to be a seriously crowded vessel by the time they reached a port.

  He and Claire were allowed to join the captain to listen in on radio discussions concerning his target. The second officer was handling their response to the immediate crisis.

  There was a time when Adam would have itched to be part of the boarding operation. Personally slapping the cuffs on Dwayne. Strangely, he felt a sense of distance instead. He was interested, and intensely focused on finding out whether the uranium was still on board and could be seized. But he’d been changed by the events of this week. By the remarkable woman to whom he owed his life.

  He’d wanted her from the first night. Now that the desperate need to protect her had relented, he was free to concentrate on how he’d ask her to share a bed tonight.

  Surely, wherever they were, there would be a bed.

  But he wanted more than that, and hated not knowing whether she felt the same. Sometime in the past forty-eight hours, he’d been slammed with the full understanding of what he was prepared to do to keep her. Would she even consider committing herself to a man like him, a man who had no experience with family or long-term promises made on a personal level?

  Feeling a little sick, missing whatever was being said over the radio, he asked himself why she would pick someone like him. Underneath the sunburn was a sweet face. Combine that with her curvy body, she must frequently have men hitting on her. Adam liked her pretty blue eyes, her smile and light blond hair, too, but he especially liked her smarts, her competence and the empathy that had her hurting after the two deaths they’d seen directly. What made him think the word love for the first time in his life, though, was her courage and her sheer grittiness. He could trust her never to let him down—if she loved him in turn.

  Right now, she sat as close beside him as she could without drawing notice. In fact...he reached over under the table for her hand, and felt better right away when she returned his clasp.

  Once they located the sailboat, lying on its side in increasingly rough water, Adam and Claire stayed out of the way but watched the efficiency of this rescue. The man and woman clinging to the boat, mostly staying out of the water but having waves washing over them, were brought aboard. Emergency efforts to warm them were begun immediately.

  When one of the rescuers repeatedly asked whether they had been the only two people on the boat, the man managed to nod. The tension level dropped considerably.

  The man was in bad shape, clearly dazed and confused about where he was, shuddering, teeth chattering, what few words he summoned slurred. Recognizing all the symptoms, Adam felt as if cold fingers were walking up his spine.

  The woman, though, was almost completely unresponsive. He’d been there, too. It was a miracle she’d been able to hold on to the capsized boat as long as she had. The decision was made to call for the helicopter again. In the meantime, the captain let Adam know they were heading for Bella Bella, where there was a small hospital.

  “Good cell phone service,” he added. “Air field, too,” he told Adam. “If you’d prefer to fly out rather than taking the ferry.”

  “I assume we can find someplace to spend the night?” he asked.

  “We’ll transfer you to Shearwater once we unload our patient. It’s better set up for visitors.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere until I know that damn freighter has been stopped.”

  The captain’s expression held answering grimness. “That may come before we dock.”

  Ten minutes later, it did.

  A US naval ship closed fast on the freighter from the moment it was spotted from the air. One fear had been that Dwayne would decide to dump the especially incriminating cargo overboard, potentially poisoning the ocean, but that hadn’t happened. His crew was so obviously outgunned, they’d surrendered without a fight, although the naval officer reporting said, “First thing out of Peterson’s mouth was, This is all that damn Rick Beckman’s fault.” Humor entered the voice. “He was even unhappier when we informed him that Rick Beckman was an alias for a United States federal law enforcement agent.”

  Adam leaned forward. “The uranium?”

  “Recovered, Agent Taylor. You have done a great service to two countries.”
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  His fingers tightened on Claire’s hand when he said honestly, “The one we really owe is the woman who saved my life and kept me a step ahead of Peterson’s killers.”

  “Is she with you, Agent Taylor?”

  “Right here.” Adam squeezed her hand.

  “Ms. Holland, I regret not having the chance to meet you and thank you in person. I would hope you’d be awarded a medal by our government, except—”

  Adam was meant to interrupt with a hard truth. “That won’t happen. This is the kind of operation that will be buried in a deep, dark hole.”

  “I assumed as much.”

  He signed off. The coast guard captain stood, bending his head at her. “I agree entirely, Ms. Holland.” Then he quietly left the two of them alone.

  Adam turned to face Claire. “You deserve a Presidential Medal of Freedom.”

  She smiled at him. “Thank you, but I don’t want one. I just want—” Looking appalled, she screeched to a stop.

  “You want?” he echoed softly.

  “For those creeps to all spend a long time in jail.” Her eyes widened even more. “Did you tell them about—what did you say his name is?”

  “Curt Gibbons. Yes. I feel sure he’s been retrieved by now, assuming he hadn’t somehow gotten that boat mended enough to put it in the water.” He smiled, and not nicely. “Of course, his mother ship abandoned him, which must have come as a shock.”

  Claire nodded, but not as if she’d been paying that much attention to what he was saying.

  “This really is all over.”

  “It is.”

  “I don’t suppose anyone has found Mike’s body.”

  “Under the circumstances, I think we’d have been told.”

  “Yes. Um. Will you head back to San Diego? Or up to Alaska?”

  It was hard to say, I do have to keep doing my job, but I’d like to start something with you, too. See where it goes. The words stuck in his throat, so he said only, “I’m guessing Alaska for the short term. This is my investigation.”

  “Then tomorrow will be goodbye.” She aimed a smile his direction that looked fake, shot to her feet and was out the door and onto the open deck before he could react.

  * * *

  IT WAS JUST as well they weren’t alone together again until they’d docked first at Bella Bella, where she and Adam had walked to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police station. There, they left Kyle Sheppard’s wallet, passport, locked cell phone and a few other items that seemed personal. The officer had been in contact with the coast guard and expected them; the coast guard had the instructions for where to find Kyle’s body for recovery. It would be up to some lucky RCMP officer to notify Kyle’s family about his death. Both Adam and Claire passed on their phone numbers in case anyone close to Kyle had questions.

  It didn’t take long to cross the bay to Shearwater, also clinging to the water’s edge, where they left their kayaks in a designated area. The goodbyes with the coast guard officers and crew were as heartfelt as those with the sportfishermen had been.

  Walking down the dock away from the big boat, carrying a bag with clothes and toiletries, Claire felt dazed anew. So many people who’d become so important to her in such a short time.

  The courage and kindness extended to them had renewed some of her lost faith in her fellow humans.

  She couldn’t tell whether Adam felt the same; he must have had many such experiences during his career. Maybe, after his unrooted upbringing, he lacked any ability to make deep connections with other people. That thought was unutterably depressing.

  He’d been on the phone almost nonstop the past hour or two, and Claire had taken some of that time to call Shelby. Only later, when she lifted her head to savor irresistible smells from a nearby restaurant did he tuck the phone in a pocket. They walked into the restaurant, Claire expecting them to draw stares, but they weren’t the only outsiders here today. A hot meal she hadn’t had to prepare on her tiny, one-burner cookstove might as well have been gourmet, as far as her taste buds went. Adam inhaled his meal, too, and they each had a slice of pie besides.

  The waitress gave them directions to a hotel. Even if the sun was still high in the sky, Claire felt as if this day had gone on for an eternity.

  Adam looked preoccupied as they walked. They’d almost reached the place when he said suddenly, “We going to share a sleeping bag tonight?”

  A quiver deep in her belly shook Claire. She faltered in her next step forward. Hadn’t she expected this moment to come? This decision? But it really wasn’t one at all.

  “I think we can share tonight.” Wow, she’d almost sounded faintly amused, even sophisticated.

  The tilt of his mouth told her “almost” pretty much said it all.

  Adam grabbed her hand and hustled her inside. The smiling proprietor led them to his “best” room, small but adequate and including a private bath with a shower. The moment she left them alone, Adam dropped his bag on the floor, took Claire’s from her and tossed it on the only chair and gripped her shoulders.

  Voice filled with gravel, he said, “God, I want you.”

  In answer, she went on tiptoe and flung her arms around his neck.

  Then his mouth on hers ended all doubts, all possibility of second thoughts. He ate at her mouth, his tongue insistent, the bite of his fingers part of the fierce need she’d seen in his eyes. He groaned when he tore his mouth from hers to nip her earlobe and move damply down her throat. His teeth closed for a not-quite-painful moment on the muscle that ran from her neck to her shoulder. Then he grabbed the hem of her fleece top and wrenched it up, pulled it over her head.

  Claire cooperated fully even as she did battle with his clothes. She had a fleeting memory of the one time she’d seen him entirely naked, never imagining they’d get to this point. Photos in celebrity magazines were as close as she’d ever come to seeing a man with his kind of body: broad shoulders, long, powerful muscles in his arms, chest and legs. Dark hair that made the sight even more tempting.

  And then there was his erection. That had zero resemblance to what she’d so briefly seen when she was trying to bring him back from near death.

  They all but fell onto the bed, Adam’s weight on her, his penis nudging at her opening already. She was so, so ready...but caution was built into her nature.

  “Wait! I’m not on birth control. Did you hold on to those condoms?”

  He stayed suspended above her for an instant, gaze hungry and intense, before he made a ragged sound and rolled off her.

  “Yeah.”

  To her dismay, he had to get off the bed and crouch by his bag to dig inside it. When he came back to the bed, he had a handful of packets that he let fall onto the scarred bedside stand. But one he ripped open, and with shocking speed he’d spread her legs and thrust inside her.

  The sex was hard and fast. Claire had never felt anything like this. It was like being swept up by a hurricane compared to a mild breeze that might ruffle her hair.

  After the shattering finale, she had one glimpse of his face before he removed his weight from her and tucked her close, her head on his shoulder. Unless she was imagining things, he looked as shaken as she felt. Maybe just because their past week had been so intense, she told herself. Both of them had built up so much tension, fear and occasional triumph and, yes, sexual tension, it had to be released somehow.

  Letting him go without weighing him down with her feelings and regret would be the single hardest thing she’d ever done.

  * * *

  NOT FIVE MINUTES LATER, Adam’s body was already stirring. He had every intention of making love with Claire as many times as they could manage tonight. But first he wanted to revel in how she felt in his arms. The hair he rubbed his cheek against was silky, smelling faintly of some unknown shampoo, but underneath he recognized her scent. She fit perfectly against him, which he had already rea
lized after their nights in a shared sleeping bag. Adam hated knowing they had to part ways tomorrow. He couldn’t take her with him, and he couldn’t walk out on an operation he hadn’t completed. Fell in love as an excuse would be on a par with my dog ate my paperwork.

  Much as he wanted to put off a difficult conversation—what if she said no? Did he get dressed and go out to ask for another room?—he disliked even more the gut-churning fear that had taken up residence in his belly.

  So he slid one hand down her back, enjoying the delicate feel of her vertebrae, the inward curve at her waist and the firm feel of her butt, and murmured, “We need to talk.”

  She stiffened. It was a frightening length of time before she asked, “About what?”

  “Us.”

  He’d never used that word before in this context. Never expected he would.

  She pulled away, sat up and grabbed a pillow to cover herself in front. Her eyes searched his. “I need to be able to see you.”

  Talking about hard stuff to someone who couldn’t see you would be easier, Adam felt sure, but he understood why she felt that way. He sat up himself, propping a pillow behind himself so he could lean back against the headboard, and said, “You’ll get cold. Wrap the covers around yourself.”

  She eyed him warily, then did as he’d suggested.

  He cleared his throat, although that was unlikely to help. “I want to keep seeing you.” That sounded less crazy than, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.

  Her lashes fluttered a few times. “How is that even possible, with us separated by a couple of states, and given your job?”

  “Once I wrap this operation up, I have plenty of time coming. If you want me to, I’ll come to Seattle. I can...get a hotel room if you’d prefer that.”

  For too long, all she did was study him. Her eyes reminded him of the sea: seemingly clear yet hiding unimaginable depths and currents. “I’d...really like if you came for a visit. Of course you can stay with me.”