by Dani Pettrey
What am I to do, Lord? I know that to do my job and to find Abby, I’m going to need to lie about who I am and my reasons for being here. I can call it something less negative, but I am lying, and I’m wrestling with that.
It was the reason she had left undercover reporting in the first place—having to compromise to get to the truth. But this was an entirely different situation—she was trying to save a life. Why couldn’t Gage understand that?
And why do I care what he thinks of me? It hurts when he assaults my character. Can’t he see I’m just trying to help Abby?
But in all honesty, she was energized by the hunt for the truth, enjoyed tracking down leads.
Why can’t he see I’m not Meredith? I’m not self-serving. I’m trying to save Abby. Lord, don’t let her die until I reach her, until she knows you. Nothing matters more.
She cut into her steak with all the force of a lumberjack attacking a giant redwood, glaring at Gage across the fire.
Piper studied her but didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Darcy knew she understood completely.
Darcy jabbed a piece of her meat. “Is he always so—?”
Piper sighed. “Yes.”
“Don’t you just want to—?”
“Occasionally.” Piper smirked.
“Only occasionally?” Darcy set her plate aside, too rattled to eat. “Then you’re a better woman than me.”
“I’m just related by blood. There’s a certain level of innate love and forgiveness woven into that.”
“I suppose it would have to be innate.”
“I think it’s God’s gift,” Piper continued. “We drive each other crazy, but we’d do anything for each other.”
She would have done anything for her brother—and had until the day he died. Even Peter, in his limited understanding, showered her with unbounded love. He treasured her as his sister, and that love still permeated her heart. But she wasn’t related to Gage and wasn’t bound by the same innate forgiveness, and right now he was being a downright judgmental pain, when what she longed for was his support. “He thinks so poorly of me.” It broke her heart.
“That’s not true. Gage thinks very highly of you.”
Darcy nearly choked on her cider. “Yeah, right.”
Piper angled to face her better. “I’m serious. Whenever he talks about you . . . I can see he feels something for you.”
“Yeah, annoyance.”
Landon wrapped his arms around Piper from behind. “Ahhh . . . she’s not that bad.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Piper’s head. “Somehow I manage to put up with her.”
“Very funny, mister.” Piper jabbed her fiancé playfully.
“Mind if I steal my gorgeous fiancée away to see the sunset?”
“Not at all.” Darcy smiled, so happy to see them together, especially after all they’d been through over the winter. God was present in their lives, in their relationship. Their trial had brought them closer when it could have so easily torn them apart. Most definitely God’s handiwork.
Darcy wrapped her fleece more snugly about her as the warmth slipped from the air. Someone needed to stoke the fire.
As if on cue, Jake rose and, grabbing a stick, stoked the flames, adding another log to the fire.
Darcy studied him in the light of the flames—tall, slender, dark hair, hazel eyes . . . the weight of sorrow permanently etched on his face.
When she’d left Yancey last winter, she hadn’t been able to resist digging into the past of the man who had intrigued her so. Now she understood why he displayed such an intricate knowledge of criminal proceedings during the case she’d investigated for the McKennas, but she also understood why he’d chosen not to tell anyone about his past, and it certainly wasn’t her place to do so. She felt rotten about looking him up, now that she knew the truth.
She waited until Jake settled back on the log at the far end of the gathering, as usual seeming content to hang on the outskirts and observe. Grabbing another cup of cider, she approached him. “Mind if I sit down?” She indicated the empty spot on the log beside him.
“Of course not. Take a load off.”
“Thought you might like something hot to drink.”
He took the cup she offered. “Thanks.”
“Looks like it’s going to be a cold night.” Small talk was always a good way to ease in.
Jake assessed the sky. Piper had told her that in the time he’d been in Yancey, he’d come to be known as the best tracker in Alaska. It probably came as a natural extension of his background she’d uncovered, but whatever the cause, Jake lived up to the nickname he’d earned with Alaskan Search and Rescue—Hawk.
“I’d say mid-to-low thirties tonight.” He took a sip of cider.
“I see why Piper calls you the human weather station.”
He chuckled. “You spend enough time outdoors, looking for signs, you begin to see them everywhere.”
“I hope that’s true.” She hoped people left signs too—didn’t just disappear, didn’t evaporate. She prayed God would give her the vision to see the signs, follow the trail, to find Abby and to bring her home.
“Piper told me about your friend.” He looked at her with such compassion in his eyes—compassion only a fellow sufferer could understand. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded her thanks. “I was hoping to pick your brain a little, if that’s okay?”
He shifted. “Why me?”
“You were so helpful on the last investigation. . . .”
“Beginner’s luck.” He took another sip of cider.
“Right, but I was still hoping I could run some things by you—see if you have any more luck in you.” She needed his expertise.
He stiffened slightly beside her, clearly trying to figure out if she knew more than she was letting on.
“Please. I’m so worried about my friend.”
“All right, but I can’t promise I’ll be much help.”
“Thanks.”
“Why do you want his help?”
Kayden. Darcy exhaled. Not now. Not when Jake was willing to listen.
“He was so helpful with Reef’s case, and—”
“He was, wasn’t he?” Kayden cocked her head. “Makes you wonder where he got such knowledge.” She was the steadfast doubter when it came to Jake. She didn’t trust him—couldn’t accept a man who wouldn’t admit his past.
“Hey, Darcy,” Clint said, striding up. “The sunset is going to be amazing. I know a great vantage point. Care to join me?”
“Uh . . .” She glanced over at Jake.
“We can catch up later,” he said.
She looked back at Clint and smiled. “Sure.” She’d hoped for help from Jake, but maybe she’d find some from Clint instead. He knew Abby—brief as their time working together might have been. Clint was open and easygoing, and clearly feeling more and more comfortable around her. Maybe he was ready to share a bit more.
Near the top of a rocky rise, Clint extended his hand.
Darcy took hold, and he guided her up the final steps. She gazed across the northern expanse of the island to the strait and beyond, and her breath caught. The sun was setting to her left, and straight ahead, two snow-covered peaks glistened in the evening light. “It’s stunning.”
“Yes,” he said, stepping closer. “You are.”
She glanced over to find his gaze fixed on her. “Thanks.”
“It’s the truth.” He reached out, caressing her jaw with the back of his hand.
“Thanks for bringing me up here.” She shifted her attention back to the view, hoping he’d do the same. “So, what am I looking at?”
“Those are the Pavlov volcanoes. That spit of land that they sit on divides the Pacific Ocean from the Bering Sea.”
“Wow. You sure know this area well.”
“It’s not my first excursion here. After a while, you learn where the best vantage points are.”
“Did Abby come on excursion here too?”
“Sure. On the last
cruise.”
“Did you show her this view?”
“Nah.”
“How come?”
“We never really connected.”
“Connected?”
He smiled. “I like you, like your style. Thought you’d enjoy a good view.”
“And Abby?”
“Never really thought about Abby. Then again, I only worked a few excursions with her.”
“This is the first excursion we’ve worked together.”
“Yeah, but we connected. Clicked. Ya know?”
She smiled but didn’t feel any true connection, though it would hardly help her cause to let Clint know that. He was a nice enough guy—she just had pressing matters at hand.
Gage’s words of condemnation raced through her mind, and she tried to shove them down, needing to focus on finding Abby. “Kind of odd, though, isn’t it?”
Clint stepped closer, his full attention on her. “What’s that?”
“Abby just leaving like that.”
He frowned. “You’re sure putting a lot of thought into this. Did you know her or something? Before the Bering, I mean?”
If someone on the ship had discovered Abby’s true identity, and she claimed to have known Abby outside of the Bering, then they’d know she was a fake as well. “No. Just met her once, when I boarded.”
“You’re awful curious about someone you’ve only met once.”
She needed to tread carefully. She didn’t want Clint spreading the word that she was asking questions. “You’re right. I guess I’m just surprised.”
He popped a mint in his mouth and offered her one.
“Thanks.” She slipped it in her mouth, the overpowering cinnamon burning her tongue.
He slid the tin mint case back in his shirt pocket. “What’s to be surprised by?”
“I met Abby when I boarded the Bering one day, and the next day she was gone without any word.”
“So?”
“Seems like she would have said something to somebody.”
Clint smiled. “You’re assuming she cared enough to leave notice. Most people in this industry don’t.”
“Care about their jobs?”
“Have much loyalty to the cruise ship. People come and go as they please.”
“Mullins had me sign a three-month contract for the spring season.”
“Yeah. We all do. So what? You leave and they stop paying you. End of contract.” His eyes narrowed in amusement. “What do you think, they’re going to go through the trouble of tracking you down and force you to return to the ship? Employees are a dime a dozen. The cruise line doesn’t care as long as the slot is covered.”
“That doesn’t sound very cheery.”
“Cheery.” He laughed. “This is obviously your first gig on a cruise ship. What you need to do is stop worrying about some gal you didn’t even know”—he stepped closer, trailing his hand down the length of her arm—“and enjoy the view.” He gestured to a large bird gliding overhead, nearly a shadow in the darkening sky. “We’re in a beautiful place, and you’re with a man that finds you absolutely captivating. What’s not to like?”
If he only knew. . . .
“Come on, Darcy, let’s get to know each other.” He nudged her arm. “Tell me something about you. Anything.”
“Okay.” She smiled. Something safe. “I hate pickles.”
He chuckled. “Well . . . that’s a start.”
“My turn,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Massage therapist-medic—the combination is intriguing.”
“That’s not actually a question, but you’re certainly not the first to comment.”
“So how’d you get started?” It was quite the job combination.
“Well, I began on the Bering as a massage therapist, but having to stay on the ship all the time got boring, so I diversified. Took my rotation off and got my medic’s license. Now I participate in most of the excursions.”
“You seem to enjoy them.”
“It’s great getting to meet new people.” He stepped closer. “Captivating people like you.”
She smiled but focused her gaze on the view, not him.
“You and Gage seem to have an interesting dynamic.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“I’m not stepping on any toes, am I?”
“Me and Gage?” She laughed but felt no humor on the subject. “No.” There would never be a “her and Gage.”
“Good.” Clint smiled. “Because I’m enjoying getting to know you.”
As nice as Clint was, she needed to keep a tight rein on things. She wasn’t who he thought she was, and as soon as she found Abby, she was out of there. Which meant she needed to be very careful not to lead Clint on, as Gage suggested she was doing. Nothing beyond a casual friendship was going to happen with Clint, but at the same time, she needed to find out what he knew. Abby’s life could depend on it.
Everyone was a potential suspect or witness—even if they didn’t realize it. Any one of them could have seen or overheard something they didn’t think anything of at the time but could prove vital to her investigation. She had to keep digging until she found it.
14
Gage stretched out before the fire, trying not to think about how long Darcy and Clint had been gone. There was no harm in a walk, but uneasiness filled him and no doubt would until her return.
Whitney shifted beside him. “I’m going to grab some more coffee. Would you like a refill?”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
Whitney had a great sense of humor, was intelligent and very athletic. She reminded him a great deal of Kayden.
She returned, handed Gage his cup, and was about to sit down when Ted approached. “Hey, Whitney, I hear the sunset is gorgeous.”
Interesting. Gage had expected Cal or another of the other single passengers to hit on Whitney, not one of the crew.
Whitney glanced up at the darkening sky. “I think we’ve already missed it.”
“Even better to see the stars from the rise. Wanna join me?”
“Thanks, but I’m good right here.” She settled back down on the log beside Gage.
“You sure?” Ted smiled. “I promise, I don’t bite.”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
Ted glanced between her and Gage and then nodded with a look of understanding. “Maybe some other time.”
Gage waited until Ted walked away before glancing at Whitney. “Not into walks or not into Ted?” He took a sip of his coffee.
She shook her head. “Not into disappearing.”
Gage spluttered on the liquid. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Not into disappearing.”
“That’s what I thought, but I don’t understand. Are you suggesting Ted . . . ?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m simply being safe. I’m a single female alone on an excursion. It would be foolish of me to leave the group with anyone, no matter how cute he may be.”
“You make it sound like people are disappearing from cruises all the time.”
“Nearly twenty last year alone.”
“From the Bering?”
She shook her head. “No, worldwide, but the Bering’s not free of its problems.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last August some honeymooners, Drake and Christine Bowen, disappeared while on an excursion.”
Bowen? “Wasn’t that the man who murdered his wife and then ran?”
“That’s what the media claimed.”
“Claimed?” The media certainly wasn’t bias-free, but it had sounded as if the husband was downright guilty.
“I had a friend on that cruise—Melody. We used to work together at our old law firm. Anyway, Melody said she spent some time with one of the men who’d been on that excursion, and he said the whole thing was strange.”
“Strange . . . how?”
“They’d made camp, and everyone had gone to bed. In the morning, Bowen gets up and can’t find his wi
fe. The team starts searching, but they can’t find her anywhere.”
Gage remembered the news coverage—it not being far from their backyard. “I think at first they thought she’d wandered off, but then someone discovered blood in the Bowens’ tent.”
“Right, but this guy told Mel that Bowen freaked and claimed it was planted there.”
“Planted there? Oh, come on.” Gage sat his cup aside.
“That’s what everyone thought—that he was just trying to cover up his crime.”
“He took off. Proves he was guilty if you ask me.”
“That’s what everyone believed, but the guy told Melody that Bowen seemed genuinely distraught—that when he took off, he said he was going to find his wife.”
“But he never did.”
“And no one ever saw him again.”
“Because he ran.”
“Yeah, probably.” She sighed. “They’d drunk a lot the night before, so who knows? Alcohol does strange things.
“But the guy Melody talked to said it had shaken him to see how loving the Bowens had seemed that night around the campfire, and then . . .” She shook her head. “Probably why I’m not so keen on marriage.” She laughed. “One of the reasons at least.”
“Did you say they’d been drinking?”
“Yeah.”
“On an excursion?”
She nodded. “I know, stupid. Yet another one of my safety rules. No alcohol while traveling. It’s just an invitation for some guy to take advantage.”
“Beyond stupid of them.” He’d never allow it. Too much risk. It would cloud people’s vision, and a foggy brain was the last thing a person needed when sea kayaking.
“Apparently the land excursion outfit provided the alcohol.”
If he recalled correctly, the cruise line had, in an effort to save money, gone with an unestablished excursion company. Company was actually too flattering a description for the mishmash group of kayakers who thought they’d make some summer cash by catering to the cruise lines and underbidding all the established companies in the area.