One Final Breath

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  If he could get smiles like that from time to time, maybe working every day with Anissa wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Not diving with Anissa was torture.

  At one that afternoon he stood on the dock and watched as she ran the side sonar from the boat. Lane was with her. And Stu. And two other guys dressed in casual clothes who would have looked dangerous even if they hadn’t been armed to the teeth. Where had Charles Campbell found these two? They weren’t from around here, that was for sure.

  Adam, in a wet suit and carrying his BCD, joined Gabe on the dock. “Have they found anything?”

  “No.”

  “Ryan coming?” Adam called out to Anissa on the boat.

  “Right behind you.” Ryan joined them. “Someone tell me again why we think the arsonist tossed accelerant into the lake? This dock is a long hike from the cabin. Or what’s left of the cabin.”

  “Your nosy neighbors.” Gabe pointed to the docks across the lake.

  “My nosy neighbors?”

  How could Ryan not figure this out? “Apparently after that situation we had last year. You may remember it? We were on a training dive and found a—”

  Ryan held up a hand. “What’s your point, Chavez?”

  “My point is that most of the folks in the cove upgraded their security systems. Big-time. Cameras on their property and cameras pointing out into the lake.” He pointed to a house in the dead center of the cove. “That guy went all out. He heard about the case after he moved in here this winter and now he’s got cameras everywhere. Well-hidden cameras. Good cameras. He’s the one who called the cops before we even got off the water last week. And he has a blurry but convincing image of someone dumping something last night before the cabin went up in flames.

  Anissa had turned the boat back toward the dock and made another pass near the left side of the dock.

  “I don’t like this at all,” Gabe muttered, still staring at Anissa in the boat.

  “What’s his problem?” Ryan directed the question to Adam.

  “Pouting.” Adam had the nerve to laugh.

  Gabe ignored him.

  “Ah. Jealous.”

  “Agreed. But I can’t decide if he’s jealous of us getting to dive or of the security guards.”

  Ryan made a show of studying the boat, and the people in it, before he responded, “Both. Definitely both.”

  “You two can shut—” A piercing whistle stopped Gabe’s retort.

  Anissa had idled the boat five feet from the dock and was now hovering beside Lane.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Did Lane’s hand tremble as he pointed to the screen?

  18

  Another body?

  Really?

  She studied the sonar image. Unlike the last body they’d found, this one hadn’t been wrapped in plastic. Arms and legs were clearly visible.

  Anissa patted Lane on the back. “It’s okay. Let’s mark this location and finish our scan.”

  She leaned over the side of the boat. Gabe, Ryan, and Adam all stood at the edge of the dock, as close to the boat as they could get. She focused on Gabe. “This was not here last week.”

  Gabe’s frustration was evident. He wanted to be on the boat. Diving with her. Taking care of business.

  Ryan’s expression was resigned. They all knew he would be going down to get the body.

  Adam’s skin had a definite green tinge to it. She’d spare him the body work if she could because this one was going to be gory. Adam had driven the dive van to the scene from the sheriff’s office. “Adam, I may be wrong. I hope I’m wrong.” She wasn’t wrong, but maybe some kids had dropped a dummy or something that looked exactly like a human in the water. “But I think we’ll need a body bag. Would you be willing to get everything we need from the van? I don’t want Gabe trying to carry stuff with that arm.”

  Adam nodded. Relief and gratitude in his eyes. “On it.”

  She turned back to Lane and Stu. “You don’t have to do this. Ryan and I can handle the actual recovery. But I think you both need to be prepared to assist.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lane swallowed hard.

  Kelly Stuart blinked three times in rapid succession before she managed a nod.

  Lane dropped the buoy and they spent the next thirty minutes finishing their search pattern. Two other large objects rested on the lake bottom, to the left of the dock. Anissa sent Lane and Stu down to get them first. Two gasoline tanks that had probably—hopefully—been empty before they’d been tossed in the lake, where they’d filled with water and sunk.

  She left Adam on the boat and Gabe supervising from the dock as she, Ryan, Lane, and Stu descended the buoy line at the body.

  Visibility wasn’t awful, which in this case was both a blessing and a curse. The visibility would make it easier for them to work together and get the body in the bag. But it also meant they could see the bloating and putrefaction. And the fact that there wasn’t much of a face on this body. Stu got one good look and swam away. They could all hear her retching. But to her credit, she returned.

  There was a gun—a pistol—a few feet away. And weights—not enough to keep him down for long but enough to have pulled him to the bottom.

  A suicide? A murder? She didn’t know. And in this moment, she didn’t care. She would care about that later, but not until they had recovered all the evidence.

  Anissa focused all her attention on whether her team was doing what they’d trained to do. She and Ryan gave them pointers and advice, but for the most part the two relative newbies handled the recovery on their own. Anissa was so proud that she wanted to hug both of them. Instead, she fist-bumped them and told them they were awesome as they brought the body to the surface.

  Gabe had called Dr. Oliver and she was waiting for them at the dock. So was the forensics team.

  And Mr. Cook.

  As soon as they had the body on the dock, he identified him. “That’s Ronald Talbot.” There was so much sadness in his voice that Anissa longed to put her arm around him, but she didn’t want to leave him a dripping mess.

  “Are you sure?” Gabe didn’t ask the question in a mean way. But the truth was, there wasn’t much face to go on.

  “Tattoo. Left arm.”

  It was a distinctive tattoo, and while neither Anissa nor Gabe recalled seeing it during their brief encounter with Ronald Talbot, Anissa had no doubt Mr. Cook would be proven right.

  The sun was low over the lake by the time Anissa was ready to call it a day.

  Dr. Oliver had taken the body to the morgue and Forensics had taken charge of all the underwater evidence they’d recovered.

  Stu and Lane were draped across seats on the boat. Both of them wearing the look of people who were proud of what they’d done but wished they hadn’t had to do it. Anissa’s two bodyguards were on the dock, looking like they wanted to be anywhere other than where they were. She understood the feeling.

  Anissa stood on the dock with Adam, Ryan, and Gabe. “Adam, if you’ll take the van back to the office, I’ll go with Lane and Stu. We’ll take the boat to the marina. All our cars are there.”

  “Anissa, you can go home tonight if you want to as long as you take your security detail with you,” Ryan said. “The house has been checked for explosives, listening devices, everything. Gabe, Leigh says she’d rather you stay at our place tonight, but she understands if you’re ready to go home too.”

  All Anissa wanted right now was to sleep. In her own bed.

  “I’m coming with you,” Gabe said.

  She didn’t have the energy to argue. They both climbed onto the boat. “Take us home, Lane.”

  Lane grinned and fired up the engine.

  An hour later, after a quick stop for takeout, she stood outside her house with Gabe as her two security guards entered first. When they had cleared the house, they opened the door. “We’ll stay out here for now, ma’am. When you’re ready to call it a night, let us know.”

  “Thank you.”

  Gabe wa
s talking to the security guards as she walked into her house. Her space. Her little corner of the great big world.

  And nothing felt right.

  The crime scene cleanup crew had done a great job, but the chairs were in the wrong place. The bare pillow taunted her. The last time she’d been here, Gabe had nearly died.

  The door closed behind her—a soft click that startled her just the same.

  “Nis?”

  Gabe stood a foot away, his right hand outstretched toward her. She wasn’t used to this. She usually came home from a dive or a crime scene and dealt with it.

  Alone.

  She took a step in Gabe’s direction and he closed the distance. His right hand slid around her waist and pulled her against him. He didn’t speak. She didn’t either. She soaked in the strength of his presence.

  “Would you rather I leave you alone? Give you some space?” Gabe whispered in her ear.

  Would she?

  No. No, she definitely would not.

  Gabe’s phone buzzed in his back pocket.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” He spoke the words into Anissa’s hair. He would never, ever get tired of having her head an inch below his chin. Or of the thrill he got every time she stepped toward him rather than away from him.

  Her laughter shook against his chest. “Better get that, Investigator Chavez.”

  He had to let go of her to get the phone. Stupid sling.

  “Don’t go away,” he said as he pulled the phone from his pocket. “Yes?”

  “Gabe, yo, man. This is Dante.”

  “Dante? What’s up?” Anissa had stepped back, her brows drawn. He held the phone out and whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

  She did.

  “I tried to call Investigator Bell, but her phone went to voice mail.”

  “Sorry about that, Dante,” Anissa said. “I was on a dive. I think my phone may still be in my bag.”

  “Yeah. I saw all that stuff you sent us from your dive.” Dante didn’t sound enthused. “You’re keeping me crazy busy.”

  “Call it job security.” Anissa laughed. “You got something for us?”

  “I do. Those prints you asked me to get off the water bottle.”

  “Yes?” Anissa prompted him.

  “I finally found a good one and they are definitely a match.”

  Anissa dropped to her knees.

  “But I got to tell you,” Dante continued, “the method I used destroyed the print, so unless you can get me another one, I’ve got nothing to go to court with. You said you didn’t care about that, so I risked it.”

  Anissa put her face in her hands and rocked back and forth.

  “Yo. Did you hear what I said? The prints match. That’s what we wanted, right?”

  “Dude,” Gabe chimed in. “You have no idea. We owe you big-time.”

  Gabe was almost sure Anissa was praying. And maybe crying. She cleared her throat. “Thank you, Dante. You have no idea how important this is.”

  Gabe would have to explain everything to Dante later. For now, he needed to get off the phone. “Listen, Dante. In the morning, do you think you could focus on anything you get from Dr. Oliver? I know you guys are swamped, but the guy we pulled out of the lake may be our shooter in the Jeremy Littlefield case.”

  “Oh man.” Dante’s tone changed. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “We’ll take care of it.”

  “Gracias, Dante. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

  Gabe disconnected the call and laid the phone on the floor. He knelt in front of Anissa.

  Lord, I’m going to need some help. I have no idea what to do here.

  “Jillian is alive,” Anissa whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “I need to get a warrant for her DNA. I need to talk to Velma Brown. I need to call Mr. and Mrs. Davidson.” She looked at Gabe then, full-on panic in her eyes. “Oh my word, I need to talk to Liz.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Gabe.”

  “Not tonight. We still don’t know what Velma Brown knows or doesn’t know. We go in asking a bunch of questions in the wrong order and we could make a mess.”

  Anissa nodded in slow motion. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually this—”

  “What? You’re telling me you have a lot of experience with finding a lost child thirteen years after her abduction?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Okay, then I think you’re allowed not to know how to react.” He lifted a strand of hair that had stuck to her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. She didn’t flinch or pull away. “I have no idea how it’s going to work out. And I’m not going to give you any false promises. It may get harder before it gets easier. But I can promise you one thing.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll be here. No matter what.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to want to hang around for this.”

  “Just try to get rid of me.” He traced her cheek with his thumb. Her cheek warmed under his touch.

  He got to his feet, then helped her up. “What do you want to do?”

  “Eat.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I’m starving.”

  Anissa laughed, then closed her eyes. “I don’t know how to do any of this, Gabe. I don’t want to hurt you and I’m afraid—”

  He put one finger on her lips, then traced her jaw. “One day at a time, Nis. Remember? We aren’t going to figure out our whole lives. We’re going to eat. Then sleep. And see what tomorrow holds.”

  “You just promised me you weren’t going anywhere.”

  He walked over to the table and pulled out the aluminum foil trays of tacos, the paper bag of tortilla chips, and the foam container of salsa. Doing everything without the use of his left arm was annoying. “Oh, I’m not.”

  “Do you not see the flaw in your argument?” She grabbed a chip.

  “There’s no flaw. I’m not going anywhere. But if I start professing my eternal devotion, you’re going to kick me out because you’ll think I’m moving too fast. And I really don’t want to have to sleep on your porch.”

  She rolled her eyes and shoved a plastic fork into his hand. “Eat.”

  It turned out that Anissa’s couch slept great. But the sun shining through the transom windows woke Gabe bright and early. He found Anissa’s coffee and started a full pot. He opened the front door and spoke to the guard right outside. The guard assured him everything had been quiet and handed him a container. “A friend of yours stopped by. She said you would need this.”

  Gabe recognized it immediately. It was one of Leigh’s cupcake holders with little spaces for each cupcake. Gabe opened the lid. Six ginormous blueberry muffins were interspersed between six cupcakes. Clementines took up six more of the spots, while silicone cupcake liners holding a mixture of blueberries and strawberries filled the remaining spaces.

  “She also said to tell you to share.” The guard was all but drooling.

  “Help yourself.”

  The guard grabbed a muffin and some berries.

  Gabe left an assortment of the goodies on the little table on Anissa’s porch and carried the remaining items inside. He selected a muffin and a clementine and took a huge bite of the muffin before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  He thought about waiting for Anissa, but he was starving. And he had no idea how long she would be.

  She probably wouldn’t mind if he nibbled on a muffin while drinking his coffee.

  He settled himself at Anissa’s kitchen table and picked up his phone. The first order of business for today—after coffee—was to check in with Brady St. John. Brady had texted him last night, but with the busyness of bringing up the body Gabe hadn’t had a chance to call him back.

  “What did you find out about Velma Brown?”

  “She’s sick but not dying. At least not yet. It’s dicey. She won’t be able to return to work anytime soon. She’s a wreck about what this is going to mean for her daught
er. She’s disappointed that it isn’t as simple as a few months of chemo and then straight to the land of recovery. But she’s thankful to be alive.”

  “How’d you get all this?”

  “I asked her.”

  “You did what?”

  “It seemed like the easiest approach. And I agree with your hunch. No way that woman knows there was anything hinky about the adoption. She adores that girl. And she wasn’t nervous to be talking to me. She was embarrassed that her plan hadn’t worked. Said she was afraid everyone would think she was a bad mother but that she’d been trying to give Liz a fabulous summer. I asked her if she was well enough to come up to Carrington if we could get her there. She said she was. I told her I’d be back in touch today.”

  Gabe considered the possibilities. “It would be best if she could come here. I might know of a place she could stay.” He knew without asking that Leigh would fall all over herself to welcome Velma and Liz into their home. Ryan would roll with it.

  “So, the girl in the hospital, she’s definitely your missing person?”

  “Prints confirmed it last night. And the pictures. The resemblance is uncanny. The timing. Everything. And Anissa says she has mannerisms of her birth mother. We need DNA to be one hundred percent sure, of course, and we’ll get that ball rolling today. But there’s no doubt in my mind that Liz Brown is Jillian Davidson.”

  Brady let out a low whistle.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, I owe the Carrington folks for eternity anyway, so I’m good for whatever you need. Especially in a case like this. If you give me the go-ahead, I can get Velma Brown up there today. She seemed anxious to see her daughter. To tell her the truth about her illness.”

  “Okay. Let me do some work on this end and I’ll get back to you.”

  Anissa stumbled into the kitchen as he disconnected the call. He hopped up from his chair and poured her a cup of coffee. He set it in front of her, along with a muffin and a cupcake liner of strawberries and blueberries, but he didn’t speak.

  Anissa had many wonderful attributes. Waking up cheerful was not one of them. She operated best after nine hours of sleep. And if she’d been shorted, then it was the better part of wisdom to wait to speak until she had consumed at least one cup of coffee.