Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel)
Page 22
Garrett swung over the rail, like a buccaneer ready to pillage. “Sonya?” He whipped off his sunglasses and greedily took her in from head to toe. Her breath caught at the intense flare of heat from his worried eyes. Then his gaze swiveled to Aidan and it turned to ice. “Harte.” He took in Peter’s sickly appearance and Wes’s uneasy one. “What’s happened?”
When she’d radioed for the Calypso she’d been vague over the reason, just gave them her position and instructed them to hurry.
Judd joined them. “You aware you’re sitting at anchor with your net out?”
“Yes.”
“What’s going on, Sonya?” Garrett moved in closer to her.
She leaned into Garrett to keep her voice from traveling to the other drifters circling around her like vultures. One whiff of Garrett’s scent and it was all she could do not to nestle into his strong, protective arms. She had to be tough. A sign of weakness and those vultures would descend. “We caught Kendrick in our net.”
“Caught?” His eyes narrowed. “Dead?”
She nodded. “Very.”
His lips tightened into a thin line. “Okay.” He laid his hand on her arm and slowly rubbed his palm up and down. She took more comfort in the small caress than she should have. “Get your crew and keep out of the way while we do our job.”
“I’m not fishing out this period either, am I?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, Sonya.”
Garrett turned to Judd and informed him, keeping his tone low, then he picked up his radio and called for backup while Judd returned to the Calypso.
“You’re calling in more troopers?” she whispered harshly. She glanced around at the drifters still watching her like a thick cut of prime rib.
“We can’t very well reach the body in a drift boat, now can we?”
“Oh…yeah.” She took a deep breath and tried not to think about Kendrick’s body bloated like a ghost fish in her net.
“Did you do anything to secure the body or is it floating free in your net?”
“No.” She swallowed past the bile in her throat. “We—Aidan and I—looped a rope around his leg—” She slapped a hand over her mouth until the need to be sick passed.
“You okay?” Garrett reached out to touch her.
She held up her hand in a motion to give her a minute, walked over to the cooler they kept on deck, and grabbed a water bottle. She took a long drink, paused and then took another. Screwing the lid back on, she rejoined Garrett.
“Securing the body was good thinking on your part, Sonya.”
“Thanks, but it was Aidan who thought of it.”
The Miss Julie II rubbed against the Double Dippin’ causing Sonya to stumble into Garrett. He caught her, holding her tight against the hard, warmth of his body, and flashes of what had transpired between the two of them, just hours earlier, sizzled between them.
Garrett set her back on her feet, waited until she was steady, and then let go of her. He turned toward the Miss Julie II. “Treat! Quit using Sonya as an anchor and back off.”
“I’m only acting as a buffer between Sonya and some of the unsavory fishermen out here.”
“I’m all the buffer she needs right now.”
“Really?” Treat dragged out. “So that’s the way of it? Sonya, seriously? Slumming with a fish cop? You could have set your cap so much higher.”
“I’m too busy to slum, Treat. Besides, slumming would be going for you,” Sonya returned.
“Ouch, Sonya, that hurts.”
“Treat,” Garrett warned.
“What’s really going on here anyway? Someone dead?” Realization dawned across his face. “Shit almighty, that’s it, isn’t it? Who? Who’s dead?”
“Back off, Treat, or I’m confiscating your catch for anchoring.”
Treat grumbled but backed his boat off.
Garrett turned as a RHIB arrived with two more troopers aboard. “Stay out of the way, but within earshot in case we need help with your net. Okay?”
She nodded. He reached out and squeezed her arm again and then he was gone, having swung back over to the Calypso. She watched as he and Judd dropped from the Calypso onto the RHIB. Judd carried a black tool box, and a camera hung around his neck. Garrett carried a body bag.
Sonya lost her morning-after breakfast.
“Yep, that is one dead body,” Judd said as he and Garrett floated Kendrick to the surface with the pull of the rope the Double Dippin’ had secured the body with.
“Yo, Double D!” Ringo motored up on the Mary Jane. “Are you throwing a party without inviting us?” Ringo caught sight of Kendrick’s body as Garrett and Judd pulled it aboard the RHIB. “Holy moly! Damn, Sonya. I heard that you threatened Kendrick last night, but no one believed you’d actually go through with it.”
“Listen up!” Garrett yelled in a voice that got the circling drifters’s attention. “I’m in the mood to write some tickets. I suggest you all get back to fishing—” he did a three-sixty, staring at all the flocking drifters, “—unless you want a fine for interference.”
Mumbling complaints mixed with rumbling diesel engines as the drifters gave them some space. Though not enough to satisfy Garrett. News of Kendrick’s death would be brimming over the bay in minutes, if it wasn’t already.
Judd started snapping stills as the other trooper—Garrett forgot his name, just that he could eat everyone under the table when it came to King Crab—videoed the scene.
Garrett examined the body but didn’t see any obvious signs of injury. “Judd, help me turn him over.” They flipped him, and there, in Kendrick’s upper back, was a wicked gash.
“Guess this was no accidental drowning.” Judd picked up the camera and took some more shots.
Garrett investigated the wound. “A knife didn’t do this. Something curved did.”
“Like what?”
“Possibly a hook of some sort. A mold will tell us for sure.”
“That’ll be up to the medical examiner in Anchorage,” Judd said. “Skip’s probably already radioed for a silver bullet.”
“Silver bullet?”
“Yeah, lightweight aluminum coffins for cases such as this. All the evidence and the body get stuffed into the bullet and airlifted to Anchorage. It’s not like we have the means or the forensic equipment to completely handle a full investigation. It comes down to old-fashioned legwork out here.”
“Gotcha. Hand me the thermometer so I can get a liver temp.” Judd handed Garrett the thermometer out of the tool box, and he inserted it into Kendrick’s liver.
They finished and zipped the body into the double-lined body bag, leaving it on the RHIB as they boarded the Calypso.
“I’ve called for a silver bullet from King Salmon,” Skip said when they joined him in the cabin. “Troopers will meet us at the Naknek City Dock. Hunt, I want Judd staying behind to help you question Sonya and her crew.” Skip gave Garrett a long stare. “By the book, Hunt.”
He nodded. Here was the test whether or not he could objectively handle Sonya and the job he had to do.
He had his doubts.
“I want statements from everyone onboard and try to get a look around. I’m leaving Corte with you, while I accompany Foster and the body to the dock. We’ll reconvene later.”
They broke apart. Judd and Garrett boarded the Double Dippin’ to find her crew much the same as they’d left them.
His gaze immediately gravitated to Sonya. He wanted to hold her. Take her away from all this nastiness. Instead he stamped down his feelings and let the cop inside of him do his job.
“We’ll need to question everyone on board,” he directed his statement toward Sonya. She was pale yet holding it together better than most in her situation would. Her t-shirt today had a red salmon rocking on an electric guitar with the words, “The Dead Red,” written across the top. Life imitating art? “While Judd and I do that, would you mind if Officer Corte takes a look around?”
“You need a warrant for that,” Aidan interjected.
He’d been shooting daggers at Garrett since he’d arrived.
“Not if Sonya gives us permission.” Garrett a raised brow at Sonya. “What do you say?”
“Go ahead.” She shrugged. “I have nothing to hide.”
Garrett motioned for Corte to take a look around. “All right, this is how it’s going to work. Judd and I are going to question you individually. Sonya, can we use your pilot house?”
She nodded. “How long do you think this will take?”
Garrett glanced at her, and her crew, then at Aidan. “Depends on the level of cooperation we receive.” He motioned for Sonya to lead the way. “We’ll start with you.”
“Sonya?” Peter’s voice held worry and a touch of anger. It was the first word he’d spoken since losing his breakfast.
She turned to him and took his hand in hers, squeezing it. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” She turned to Aidan. “Can you and Wes round-haul the rest of the net in?”
“Of course.” Aidan reached out and wrapped his arms around Sonya, rubbing her back. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Garrett wanted to rip them apart. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if Sonya hadn’t broken out of Harte’s embrace.
“Thanks, Aidan.” She nodded in Peter’s direction. “Keep an eye on him.” Without a glance toward Garrett or Judd, she led the way to the pilot house.
Garrett tried to forget what he and Sonya had been doing a mere few hours ago. Sonya dropped into the captain’s chair like the weight she carried was getting too heavy to bear. Judd took a seat on the bunk, while Garrett remained standing next to the stove.
Judd flipped open his notebook, and Garrett began asking questions. “Tell me again from the top what happened this morning.”
She gave him a run down of her actions since her crew came aboard until they’d pulled Kendrick up in the net.
“That’s quite the coincidence,” Judd commented. “You’re in a fight with Kendrick at the Pitt last night, threatened that he’d be ‘floating belly-up’, and then he ends up your catch of the day.”
Garrett didn’t believe in coincidences as a rule. After all, what were the odds? What were the odds that he’d gotten her pregnant this morning? The thought of their child beginning its life inside her right now had all his protective instincts roaring to life.
“Was there a question in there, officer?” she asked, raising a brow at Judd.
“Yeah, I’d like a breakdown of your whereabouts since leaving the Pitt last night.”
“Judd, that’s not necessary,” Garrett said.
“By the book, Garrett.”
Garrett ran a hand through his short hair, his jaw clenching. “You don’t have to answer him, Sonya.”
Her eyes flicked to his and then narrowed toward Judd. “I’m sure he already knows you spent the night with me, so why are we going through this?”
“I need it for the record,” Judd said.
“I left the Pitt with Garrett and was with him until around six this morning. Do you want all the salacious details?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Judd turned to Garrett. “You willing to verify that?”
“You know I am.” The steel in his voice was cold and sharp, letting Judd know he’d better watch his step.
Judd turned back to Sonya. “Who else is aware that you two spent the night together?”
She sighed and dropped her gaze, fingering the frayed cuff of her long-sleeved t-shirt. “Uhm…Aidan knows.”
“You told Harte?” Garrett asked, his tone unbelieving. Why would she confide in Harte? Unless there was more between them than she’d let on.
Her eyes shifted to the side. “Not exactly.”
“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’.”
Sonya glanced at Judd and then back to Garrett, color staining her cheeks. “It’s…personal.”
Garrett leaned back and took a deep breath. What had he expected from their one night together? That she’d share everything with him? Care about him? He knew she must have feelings for him on some level, right? If Sonya and Aidan had personal things still between them, where did that put him?
Corte stepped up to the door and knocked. Garrett slid it open. “Excuse me for interrupting, but I found this onboard. Looks like it could be the murder weapon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The trooper handed Garrett a gaff hook encased in a large plastic bag. Blood stained the end of the hook. Sonya knew, with the day she was having, that the blood had to be Kendrick’s.
“That’s not mine,” she said, her voice an octave higher than normal. “I don’t have a halibut gaff on board. The only hook I have onboard is five feet long, not two. What good would a two foot gaff do on a drift boat? I need one longer than four feet just to reach the water from the sides of this tub.” She was rambling but couldn’t stop herself. She was smart enough to know how bad this situation was getting. She’d threatened Kendrick last night, in front of a dozen witnesses. Now the murder weapon was found on her boat? Sweat broke out over her body, but she felt cold. Colder than she could remember being in a very long time.
“Sonya,” Garrett’s voice cut through the fog that was rapidly closing her in. Suddenly he was there, kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in his. “You have an ironclad alibi. We know you didn’t do this. You couldn’t. Kendrick had been dead between ten and twelve hours. We were together during that time.”
She met his eyes. Seeing the reassurance in his should have allayed her fears, but it didn’t. “If I use your alibi then everyone will know we were together. If the fishermen find out, I’m going to be blackballed more than I already am.”
Garrett let go of her hands and fell back on his haunches. “Let me get this right. You’re willing to be arrested and charged with murder rather than let anyone know we were together last night?”
“Dude, that’s rough,” Judd commented from the bunk.
“No,” Sonya said. “It means you have to find the real killer so we don’t have to use the alibi.”
Garrett got to his feet and walked back to the stove, where he’d positioned himself when he’d entered the pilot house. Sonya tried not to miss his steady warmth. She knew by the tightening of his jaw and the rigid way he held his shoulders that she had hurt him with her refusal to come clean about them. There was a lot at stake here.
“If that’s the way you want it.” Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. “If the gaff isn’t yours—” he picked up the evidence bag “—do you have any idea how it got onboard your boat?”
She racked her brain and came up with nothing. “I’ve no idea.”
“I have one,” Garrett said. “Why is Aidan fishing with you today?”
“Aidan? H-he wanted to understand the drift operation.”
“He picked today of all days to do that?”
“Another coincidence,” Judd interjected, clicking his tongue.
“How?” she asked. “There is no way Aidan could have brought that onboard without one of us seeing him.”
Garrett unzipped his trooper jacket, took the gaff hook, stuffed it in his jacket, and then zipped it out of sight.
“No.” She swallowed past the bile that had returned. “I don’t believe it. I won’t. There are other ways to plant something like that. Someone could have dropped it onboard during the night. Or-or planted it when I grabbed a quick shower at the cannery this morning. I was gone about twenty minutes.”
“Those are possibilities,” Judd seemed to agree until he continued, “but wouldn’t you have heard the gaff if someone dropped it onboard during the night? Aluminum boats aren’t known for muffling sounds, quite the opposite in fact.”
“I wasn’t paying attention to noises last night.” A bomb could have gone off right on her deck and she wouldn’t have heard it, not with all her attention centered on Garrett and what he’d made her feel. She stole a glance his direction and wished she hadn’t, as his eyes reflected the same memories she knew hers did.
“Judd, table the gaff for now.” Garrett’s gaze returned to Sonya as he pulled the hook free of his jacket and held it in his hand. She would never look at another gaff the same again.
“We’re back to who wants to hurt you, Sonya.” Garrett leaned against the stove and folded his arms across his chest. “It obviously wasn’t Kendrick. So we need to go back to the beginning and figure out who wants you off this water. We need names fast, because whoever he is, he proved he’s willing to kill to do it.”
“Sonya, no matter what the cops might think, I didn’t plant that gaff hook on your boat,” Aidan said once more as they reached the beach in front of their camps.
Sonya wearily ran a hand over her face. She didn’t know what to think. Aidan did have opportunity but did he have motive? The Double Dippin’ was currently anchored near the running line in front of the cabin with Peter and Wes onboard until she returned.
If she could keep Aidan walking toward their camps, maybe he’d turn in the direction of his when they reached the creek. It had been a hell of day and she didn’t see it getting any better. Particularly with the upcoming meeting with her grandparents. It was hard to believe it was only late afternoon. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
It seemed like weeks since she’d been back at camp, when in reality it had only been a day. By the time fishing ended, she’d need a month of sleep to recover from the season. She noticed the outboard engine laying on a tarp under the bluff and almost laughed. She’d bet a steak dinner Gramps had gotten that miserable thing to run. He was probably waiting for Peter or Wes to help him get the outboard bolted onto the skiff.
Aidan grabbed her arm and turned her toward him. She’d almost forgotten he kept step with her. “Sonya, you’ve got to believe me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”