Seagrass Pier

by Colleen Coble

  “Okay.” This was her favorite part of the job—calling the recipient’s doctors and letting them know they had an organ. “I’ll call you when I’m done on my end. Good luck.” She ended the call with Kerri, then placed the first call to the doctor of the recipient who needed the heart.

  She was smiling when she got off the phone from the final call. A sixteen-year-old boy was about to get a new heart. Elin’s smile faded when she thought of the pain Lacy’s family was going through right now.

  A soft knock sounded behind her, and she turned to see Marc in the doorway. Her heart always seemed to hiccup when she spied him. His sleeveless T-shirt showed off muscular arms and a flat stomach. His dark hair curled a little at the nape of his neck, and when he turned those hazel eyes her way, any thoughts in her head dried up and blew away.

  He leaned against the doorjamb. “About ready for the boat trip?”

  Dread curled in her belly. She didn’t want to immerse herself in the night Laura died.

  She forced a smile. “I’m ready. Let me close out of here.”

  “Did you find recipients?”

  “Yes.”

  He frowned. “You don’t sound all that excited.”

  “I-It’s the thing we’re doing on the boat.” She clasped herself. “You have no idea what it’s like to have memories that aren’t mine. It’s like I’m dreaming with everything distorted and frightening.”

  His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The day has been stressful enough.”

  Shaking her head, she shut the lid of her MacBook and rose. “I can’t sit back and do nothing. He was in my house, Marc! He’s not going to hurt those I love. I don’t trust what he might do next. We have to figure out who he is and get him behind bars.”

  “You don’t have to convince me.” He took her arm. “I’ve got two guards walking the perimeter, and we won’t be gone long.”

  The heat from his fingers warmed her skin. If she leaned in closer, she’d be able to smell his cologne.

  “Elin?”

  She blinked. “Sorry, I was woolgathering. I’m ready.”

  His grip on her tightened. “You’re sure? Maybe this isn’t the best evening to do this. I don’t think he’ll try anything with me here. Having a man in the house is likely to scare him off.”

  A man in the house. What an appealing thought. She liked walking into the kitchen in the morning and seeing him there, coffee already brewing. She’d never dreamed how quickly she would acclimate to having him around. Or how quickly their hostility would turn to . . . something else. She couldn’t quite name it yet. Attraction for sure. But maybe more than that.

  Smiling to reassure him, she led the way out of the office and nearly mowed down Kalianne, who was hovering outside. “Is everything all right, Kalianne? Where’s Mom?”

  “Oh fine, fine. But she won’t eat. I fixed her some supper, and she thinks she ate already. She hasn’t eaten enough today to keep a bird alive.”

  How sweet of Kalianne to be so concerned. “What did you fix her? She’s gotten to be a picky eater, though she used to be willing to try just about anything.”

  “I fixed beef and noodles with mashed potatoes. And I brought brownies I made last night. She looked at them, then turned away. I thought she loved chocolate.”

  “She does. Let me check on her. She’s in the kitchen?” When Kalianne nodded, Elin went down the hall to the kitchen.

  Her mother had already put on her pajamas and fuzzy slippers. She wore a terry robe too even though it was eighty degrees outside and not that cool inside even with the air-conditioning. She sat at the large white table staring blankly at her plate of food. Her fork had fallen to the floor beside her napkin.

  Elin stooped and picked them up. “That looks good, Mom. Enough for us too? I’m a little hungry, and I’m sure Marc is starved.”

  He followed her to the table. “I’m famished. Noodles. There’s never been a better food invented. Did you make these, Ruby? I’ve lusted after your noodles for years. No one makes them like you.”

  Mom brightened a little and smiled up at at Elin. “I made them, I think. Didn’t I, Elin?”

  She went around to the other side of the table. “He’s right—you make the best noodles in the world, Mom. You roll them out by hand and cut them nice and thin.” She pulled the bowl to her and ladled some onto her plate. “Yum, it smells wonderful. Do you have enough salt?”

  Her mother hesitated, then picked up the clean fork Elin had placed beside the plate. She scooped up a forkful and placed it in her mouth. Chewing reflectively, she finally smiled and nodded. “They are pretty good, if I do say so myself. What do you think, Owen?” She looked expectantly at Marc.

  He glanced at Elin but moved to an empty chair and got some noodles. “They’re great, Ruby. Thanks for making them for me.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes, and she put down her fork. “I’m confused. You’re not Owen.” She rubbed her hand. “What’s happening to me? I am losing myself.” She pushed back from the table and ran from the room.

  Kalianne hurried after her, calling her name.

  Elin knew the feeling her mother was experiencing. There were times she wanted to run crying from the room too. In another few months, would either of them be the women they were a year ago?

  SIXTEEN

  The motorboat rocked in the waves offshore. Pinpricks of light from the house’s windows looked like fireflies on the hillside. The wind tangled Elin’s curls, and she wished she’d thought to tie back her hair before coming out here tonight. Was this really a good idea? Nervousness rippled over her spine and heightened every sense: the smell of the sea, the roar of the engine, the taste of the salt on her lips.

  Abby hadn’t wanted her to do this, and she was likely watching out the window at the boat’s lights offshore. She would be praying for Elin too, a thought that comforted her.

  Marc’s figure loomed in front of her, and he sat beside her. “You look like you’re about to jump overboard. We don’t have to go through with it.”

  “I can do this.” The words bolstered her flagging courage. “I have to figure out who he is. He might have done this before, and he might do it again.”

  “It’s a brave thing to try. Sara and I will be right here with you. If it gets too scary, we won’t press you.” He reached over and took her hand.

  She clung to his strong fingers, then forced herself to release them. “I don’t want to have to do this more than once, so let’s find out all we can.”

  She looked around the boat. It was a forty-five-foot vessel with a large deck area. Not at all like the cruise ship where Laura died. Would this even work? Maybe they should have tried to get aboard the same kind of boat.

  The engine cut off, then Sara stepped toward them. “Ready? Let’s go around to the other side of the boat. Laura was found on the aft deck. I’ve got the cologne.”

  “And I have the red sweater.” Marc rose and held out his hand.

  Her fingers curled around his, and his strength gave her courage to stand. If she could hold his hand the entire time, she might make it through this. She dreaded the memories, the dreams. This was the first time she’d ever consciously tried to re-create what happened that night. What if she wasn’t Elin Summerall when this was over? What if Laura’s memories crushed out her own?

  She forced herself to walk with Marc to the other side of the craft. At the first sight of the life jackets, she stumbled. Those bright-orange flotation devices brought a hazy memory floating to her. And the smell of the canvas, moldy and pungent, made her feel as though she had no air.

  Marc steadied her. “You okay?”

  She managed to smile and nod. “Fine.” His skeptical gaze remained on her face, and she lifted her head. “I’ll be okay. Let’s get this over with.”

  “Okay, I’ve tried to re-create as much of that day as I can remember.” Sara pointed to the life preservers. “She was under a pile of PFDs. Her feet were here.�
� She moved to the end of a bench just to the left of the orange pile.

  Elin edged closer, though the stronger scent of mold made her want to retch. “What was I—she—wearing?”

  “White shorts and a red tank top. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and her feet were bare.”

  Elin’s hand went to her throat. She could almost see a woman’s outline under the pile of life jackets. Her breathing came hard and labored in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, and she took a step back.

  Marc’s warm hand touched her back. “Ready to try this?”

  She nodded, unable to speak, wishing she could change her mind. But Josie was counting on her. She had to protect her daughter.

  Marc pulled out a length of piano wire. “He used something like this to choke her.” He opened the bag in his hand. “Here’s the sweater. I doused it with the cologne.”

  Elin’s fingertips had no feeling in them as she closed her hand around the sweater Sara thrust at her. She stepped to the railing and looked out over the dark water . . .

  She’d seen Theo kissing another woman, and all she wanted to do right now was cry. Laura staggered to the railing and rubbed her damp eyes. When a footfall sounded behind her, she thought it might be him following her to apologize. Well, let him try. If he thought she would forget it, he was very wrong. Then she caught a whiff of the cologne. It wasn’t Theo. She stiffened and turned to go, but strong fingers gripped her arm.

  A voice as smooth as a calm sea whispered against her neck, “Don’t go. I was looking for you. Just for you.” His hand touched her upper arm, then moved to the back of her neck. “I could kill her for you. Theo would never kiss her again. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment. Or do you?” His fingers brushed her neck before the tweak of a hard pinch made her flinch.

  Her limbs turned to ice. She pulled away and started for the inside deck. He snatched her back before she’d gone two feet. His breath hissed through his teeth, and he slammed her back against his chest. She struggled to get away, but the alcohol she’d had left her dizzy and unsteady.

  His breath smelled of wintergreen, and he pressed his lips against the side of her neck. She caught a glimpse of a red sweater. His strong cologne made her gag, and she felt lightheaded. He must have practically bathed in the stuff. He kept her pinned, and she couldn’t move her head more than a few inches. His hand was clamped around her arm, and a signet ring with the letter R glittered in the bit of deck lighting.

  He released her, and she fell to her knees. She caught a glimpse of something shiny as he whipped it over her head. Then something choked off her air. She brought both hands to her neck, but she couldn’t get even a finger under the thin wire around her skin. Her eyes fluttered, and she sagged to the deck.

  She was drowning, drowning. Her lungs burned, and she struggled harder, then crashed into a pile of orange life vests. The musty scent was the last thing she remembered.

  Through a fog, Elin heard Marc say her name, felt Sara touch her arm, but it was as if she were numb and couldn’t move. She tried to speak, but she couldn’t form her lips into words. Who was she? Where was she? Where was Theo? Was she dead?

  Her vision faded to a pinprick, and the musty scent of the life preservers grew stronger as she sank into their embrace.

  The boat rocked in the waves as Marc leaped forward to catch Elin before she could hit the deck. He hadn’t liked the look on her face before she went limp. If this re-creation had harmed her, he didn’t know how he could live with himself. He shouldn’t have let her do it.

  He eased down with her in his arms and pulled her onto his lap. He brushed her long red hair out of her face. “Elin, it’s all right. It’s over.” Her long lashes didn’t move. Her face had lost all color. He looked up at Sara. “Any ideas on bringing her around?”

  She knelt beside them. “Let me get some water from the galley.” She rose and hurried to the port side, flipping on the deck lights as she went.

  His anxiety heightened a notch as he studied Elin’s face in the brighter light. Sara returned with a glass of water. He glanced up at her. “What just happened in her memories?”

  Sara’s mouth trembled. “Even her movements weren’t her own. She never tosses her hair the way she did while remembering Laura’s murder. She walked differently too.”

  “You think it really is possible she could become someone else?”

  “I think so, Marc. There’s something going on we don’t understand.”

  He didn’t want to believe it, but Elin clearly knew something she would have no way of knowing without picking up some of Laura’s memories.

  Her lids fluttered, and she began to stir. A bit of color came back to her cheeks. “Don’t touch me, Theo.”

  Theo? Marc raised her head a bit. “Elin, can you open your eyes?”

  She grimaced, then flung up her hand. She blinked and opened her lids. “Marc? What happened?” Her expression changed, and her hand went to her throat.

  Relief flooded him. Elin’s voice, Elin’s expressive face. “You’re fine. We’re on the boat, remember? You were trying to remember what happened the night Laura died.”

  Her eyes widened. “I remember. I was Laura. I smelled the cologne, and I saw everything just like it happened.”

  She seemed to realize she was on his lap and struggled to sit up. He eased her into a seated position but didn’t let go of her in case she fainted again. She seemed in no hurry to stand.

  Sara knelt beside them on the deck. “Here, drink this. How do you feel?” She uncapped the water and handed it to Elin.

  Elin gulped down half the water. “I feel a little shaky. But I remember so much more. There was an R on his ring.” She began to recount what she’d seen when she smelled the cologne.

  “Who is Theo?” Marc asked.

  Her face fell. “I don’t remember. Laura was mad at him, though, when she caught him kissing another woman. He was drunk. Maybe he was a shipboard romantic interest.” She inhaled and shook her head. “The man offered to kill the woman Theo was kissing. I think he likes killing.”

  She shuddered, and he knew she was remembering finding Lacy. She made no effort yet to pull out of his arms, and Marc was content to keep her right where she was. Her softness was just as he remembered it. That night had been etched into his memory for all time.

  “Anything else you remember?” he asked.

  “His breath smelled of wintergreen, like the pink candy. Or wintergreen gum.” She touched her throat again.

  “Do you remember what Theo looks like? Any memory of him?” Sara asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing, sorry.”

  He realized he was enjoying the feel of her in his arms, a dangerous position. He shifted her a bit. “I think I’d better find this Theo and talk to him. I can look at the passenger manifest. Full name might be Theodore. That’s not a common name, so we might hit pay dirt.”

  She finally made a move to get up, and he released her. Sara helped her to her feet, then held out her hand to him. He took it and got up.

  Sara hugged Elin. “I’m sorry we put you through this. It’s over. You want more water?”

  Elin shook her head. “It’s okay. At least some good has come of it. If we find this Theo, maybe we’ll get some answers.” She looked to Marc as if searching for confirmation.

  He nodded. “I have a copy of the manifest on my computer. Let’s see what we can find out.” He walked back to the helm where he’d stashed his laptop. Sara flipped on the light in the small room, then she and Elin settled on the bench seat behind him while he opened the file.

  He swiveled in the pilot’s chair to face them. “There are two Theodores. Theodore Jensen and Theodore Farmer. Either one ring a bell?”

  The tiny lines between her brows furrowed, then Elin shook her head. “I just remember Theo, no last name.”

  He jotted down the phone numbers and addresses of the two men. “There’s a guy with a last name of Theobold. That might be him too. One of them lives in Californi
a and one lives in Florida. This other guy lives in Virginia Beach. Let’s call him first.” He pulled out his phone and punched in the Virginia number first.

  The call rang three times before a male voice answered. “If you’re selling something, I’m hanging up.”

  Marc put on a stern tone. The guy’s attitude really bugged him. “This is Marc Everton with the FBI. I’m investigating the murder aboard the Seawind. Is this Theo?”

  “Yeah.” His voice was more respectful. “I didn’t see anything. And besides, someone already interrogated me.”

  So he did go by Theo. “Right, but I’m trying to discover if you knew the deceased, Laura Watson, at all.”

  “I don’t think so.” His voice held a wary note.

  “What does that mean? You either knew her or you didn’t.” Something about this guy put his hackles up.

  “Look, you know how it is aboard ship. Love ’em and leave ’em. I played around with a few women. It was a long cruise—two weeks. Plenty of time to play the field. I didn’t get all their last names, but yeah, there was one Laura. It could have been her.”

  “Did anyone ever show you a picture of the deceased?”

  “Nope.”

  He is lying. Maybe shock would loosen his tongue. “Did she cause a scene when she caught you kissing another woman?”

  “Who told you that?” Theo snapped.

  “Is it true?”

  “Look, it was totally uncalled for. We’d spent one night together, and all of a sudden she thinks she owns me. There was no reason for her to go off like that.” His voice rose. “She slapped me and stalked off.”

  “What happened next? Did you go after Laura? Maybe you wanted to teach her a lesson.” Could this be the killer? Every instinct told him the guy was hiding something.

  “Get real, man. Why would I do that when a pretty woman was all ready to offer condolences, if you know what I mean.”

  Marc could almost hear the man’s smirk in his voice. He gritted his teeth and tried to get past his dislike. “So you didn’t see her after she slapped you?”