Beneath the Surface

by Joya Fields

  Now she needed Linda to heal completely, Jeff to get better, and Tessa to be found alive. And as happy as she was today, Brooke believed it could happen.

  Linda had been moved to a general care double room.

  Brooke rested her fingers on the door handle and gasped. When had she taken off her watch? She frowned and decided not to panic. It could have slipped off in her car, or at Garrett’s. It would turn up. It had to. One thing was for sure, worry wouldn’t bring it back. She’d figure it out later. Right now Linda needed her.

  She walked into the room with a smile on her face. Mrs. Yi sat straight-backed and alert on Linda’s bed, hands folded on her lap.

  “Your relief is here,” Brooke said.

  Mrs. Yi tried to smile, but her lips couldn’t quite get around it. Brooke didn’t know if it was worry for Linda or fears about Jeff.

  Balloons and flowers poked out of every crevice and shelf in the small room.

  Linda had a few scratches and a dark bruise on her head, but otherwise she looked great. But when she met Linda’s gaze, Brooke spotted deep worry in her eyes.

  Mrs. Yi had dark circles under her delicate eyes. From the rumpled bed across the room, Brooke gathered the woman had been staying overnight.

  Brooke strolled to Linda’s side and squeezed her friend’s petite hand. I.V. needles jutted into the veins in the other hand, but Linda plastered on a brave smile.

  “How’re you feeling?” Brooke asked. The fact that they’d moved her into a regular room signified improvement.

  “I’m fine. Jeff’s the one I’m worried sick over.” Linda’s bottom lip quivered. She needed some best-friend time, and needed it now. Just the two of them.

  Mrs. Yi clucked her tongue, stood and pulled the white flannel blanket up Linda’s body and tucked it under her chin.

  Linda smiled and raised her brows. “Mom’s turned into a medical expert these past twelve hours.” Her tone teased. Her mother rolled her eyes and patted her daughter’s legs over the blanket.

  “Mom, now that Brooke is here, would you and Dad please go to your hotel to get some rest? You can come back tonight, okay?”

  Mrs. Yi glanced with bloodshot eyes from Linda to Brooke and then back to Linda.

  Brooke knew she might be able to tip the scales a little. She put a gentle hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “You’ll be more help to Linda if you’re fresh. I promise I’ll abandon my post to you by six tonight.”

  Mrs. Yi smiled. This time, the smile reached her eyes. She bent to give Linda’s forehead a kiss and exited the room

  “Okay, tell me everything you know that might help Jeff.” Linda pushed the lever on her remote and lifted the back of the bed to a seated position.

  Brooke scraped an orange vinyl chair closer to the bed and sat. She yearned to question Linda about their marriage, but she knew the best way to help Linda right now was to talk about Jeff.

  ****

  Garrett walked to the back of his unmarked cruiser to check out the skid marks on the white cement driveway.

  Sure enough, he found a long, curved patch of rubber where Brooke’s tires had fought against her brakes and fast steering last night. He shook his head and glanced at the two solid light posts and said a quick prayer of thanks that she’d been able to squeeze her car between them. At her speed, she would have been seriously injured if she’d hit one head-on.

  He had to keep her safe. The Coast Guard used sonar, divers, and high-tech equipment, but hadn’t been able to find the box so far. With other pressing matters along Florida’s waterways, Garrett had a sinking feeling the Coast Guard wouldn’t use their resources to search much longer.

  If Tessa was in the box, Rico had to be involved. Did that mean Rico followed Brooke last night, too? Could he be that close and go undetected? Garrett had checked all the records he could think of. Rico hadn’t used his cell phone or credit cards since the day Tessa had disappeared.

  He jogged up the cobbled stone path and wasn’t surprised when the door opened before he reached the porch. These people didn’t miss a thing. He thanked his lucky stars. Maybe they’d be able to give him more information than a scared and shaken—but gutsy—Brooke had been able to tell him last night.

  “Detective Ciavello, won’t you come in?” The silver-haired lady dressed in a lime-green sundress and matching hair band gave him a broad smile and stood to the side. “So nice to see you again.”

  Garrett’s shoulders relaxed a fraction and he smiled. The red Mustang lady. Of all the driveways to skid into, Brooke had landed on the feisty lady’s property. She held out a hand. “I never properly introduced myself. Millie. Millie Hutchinson.”

  Garrett shook her hand. “Thanks for helping Brooke last night.”

  “Sure, sure,” Millie’s husband said. “Thanks for helping my wife with that flat tire.”

  Garrett shook hands with the man who wore a yellow polo shirt that showed off a deep tan. He stood behind his wife with a hand on her shoulder.

  They both shifted to the side as Garrett nodded and walked past them. “Thanks for making time to see me. I’ll only keep you a few minutes.”

  The man closed the door and the couple turned as a unit to face him. He wondered if he’d ever have that kind of happiness, that type of relationship. It all seemed so out of reach. Was happiness something only other people could have?

  He shook the cobwebs from his head and focused on the smiling couple. He needed answers. Time to find out who wanted to hurt Brooke. He knew why—and felt guilty about it—but he’d do everything in his power to find out who.

  Chapter Ten

  “This is great,” Brooke said. She relaxed into a comfortable Adirondack chair on Garrett’s deck.

  “Yeah,” Garrett said. “Nothing like some outside quiet time to take the edge off a day.”

  The sound of the canal lapping against the retaining walls and docks and slivers of moonlight that filtered through the cloudy night sky onto the two-tiered deck helped Brooke to breathe easier after a long, hard day.

  She’d been at the hospital visiting with Linda and checking on Jeff. Garrett had been in her thoughts almost the entire day. By the time Mrs. Yi came to relieve her, Garrett was in the forefront of her mind. He’d suggested beer and sandwiches for dinner.

  Soft lighting from the house filtered onto the deck and threw shadows across Garrett’s face. She stole a sideways glance at him. His nose was a little big for his face and he had a small scar marking his right cheek. Not a perfect face, but her heart fluttered every time she looked at him. Not classically handsome…more like ruggedly handsome.

  He caught her stare and she pushed her attention back to the ham and cheese sandwich he’d fixed her.

  He took a swig of his beer and propped his feet on the lower rung of the deck railing. A muscle twitched in his cheek. Like a spring ready to uncoil.

  She cleared her throat. “I don’t think I can stay at the motel. Not after last night.”

  He glanced at her and held her gaze.

  “I—I agree with you that I shouldn’t be alone.” Oh God, her voice shook and stammered out the words. He’d invited her to stay once before, but was it forward of her to invite herself? “Um. Safety in numbers, y’know?”

  She lifted her beer and took a swig to keep herself from jabbering. She wished that her safety was the only reason she wanted to stay here.

  “You stay as long as you like. You got in so late last night I didn’t have a chance to give you a tour of the place, though. Want me to show you around after you finish your sandwich?” he asked.

  She nodded. “And I can’t seem to find my dad’s watch. I checked my rental car and didn’t find it. I’m hoping it’s in your spare room.”

  “We’ll check for it as we tour.”

  “Thanks.”

  He looked up at the sky. “Looks like rain tomorrow. Can’t see any stars.”

  “That so? That’s what my grandfather always says too—if you can’t see any stars, that means it’
s going to rain.”

  “I guess we’ll see tomorrow.” He stretched his long legs in front of him.

  “If it rains, we can still search for…” She hesitated. She didn’t know what words to use to avoid the reference to Tessa. “Umm…the box.”

  He faced her and lifted a shoulder. “You’re the boss.” He took another swig of his beer. “An underwater archaeologist?”

  “Uh huh.” A breeze billowed off the canal and cooled her heated skin.

  “But after the earthquake you stopped diving?” He questioned suspects for a living. But he tempered this one with his quiet voice. Still, she stiffened in her chair.

  “After the earthquake, I went through a lot of rehabilitation. I used to love to swim, but it just didn’t seem worth re-learning how to do it.” She didn’t want to go into the details of the one time she’d tried.

  In order to swim, she needed either a special prosthesis or no prosthesis at all. Since she couldn’t walk in the diving prosthesis, it didn’t make sense to wear one. And she didn’t yet have the confidence to swim without a prosthesis. She could overcome the physical limitations if she wanted to. The emotional one—not wanting to dive without her parents—kept her from the water. She’d been away at college, and had lived on her own, but she’d always dived with her parents. Working vacations, they’d all called them. She wasn’t strong enough to face the loneliness that she knew would encompass her if she dove without them.

  She took a long drink of her beer and stared out over the canal.

  “I talked to the Hutchinsons today—the couple whose driveway you peeled wheels into last night.” He’d given her an out by changing the subject.

  “Did they see anything?” She shivered at the memory of how close she’d come to hitting their posts.

  “No, just tail lights in the distance.” He sat up and swung his feet over the chair. “You cold?”

  She yawned and nodded.

  “Let’s take that house tour.” He stood and held out his hand. His warm touch spread through her body and chased her chills away.

  ****

  Brooke followed Garrett into the small family room. The unmistakable scent of sawdust permeated her senses. She found it hard to concentrate on Garrett’s words as he guided her through the downstairs room. Instead of taking in the sights, she let her gaze drop to admire the way his jeans hung loosely to his slim hips.

  “So what do you think?” He stood in the middle of the family room.

  She glanced around and her mouth dropped open. Hand-carved tables and lamps adorned the cozy room. She stepped close to one of the lights and ran her hand down the smooth base of it. “Beautiful,” she whispered, taken in by the craftsmanship and obvious love the artist held for the wood he’d carved.

  The rough driftwood had been sanded down to give it a soft, almost airy quality.

  He moved behind her. His warm breath heated her neck and her body hummed in reaction.

  “I’ll make you one if you want.”

  “You made this?” She whirled around and found herself face to face with him.

  He threw his one-dimpled grin at her and nodded. His deep brown gaze locked with hers, stirring something inside her.

  “You catch bad guys for a living and build decks and lamps in your spare time?” She stood toe to toe with him and realized they were almost close enough to kiss again. All she would have to do was tip her head up a few inches...

  He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. “It’s a hobby.”

  She frowned and realized she’d been so caught up in wanting to kiss him that she’d forgotten she’d asked him a question.

  She nodded. “Gorgeous.”

  He leaned against the beige wall and narrowed his eyes, studying her. “I use salvaged materials to make the lamps.” He broke eye contact and walked to one of the shellacked lamps, lifted it, and slowly ran a hand over the smooth wood.

  She wished at the moment that she was a piece of wood.

  “It’s beautiful, I love it.” She glanced from the lamp to his sparkling eyes. “What else have you done in the house?”

  “It’s not a big house, but let me show you.” He set the lamp back on the table and brushed his hands on his jeans. He reached for her hand. Her heart banged double-time against her ribs.

  To calm her pulse, she forced herself to pay attention to the details of his house. He pointed out his projects with pride. She missed that in her own work lately. The passion that engulfed her when she dove in the water and took part in underwater explorations lifted her spirits.

  She recognized the quality in Garrett. She knew what it was like to love doing something, to wake up every morning ready to take on a new task, excited about it. She missed that feeling.

  “You have a knack for making your house a home,” she said.

  He smiled, tugged her hand, and started up the stairs. In the upper hallway, he flicked a switch and illuminated the short passage. “Let’s check the spare room for your watch and then I’ll show you my bedroom.”

  His words, although innocent, still sent ripples of anticipation down Brooke’s spine as she followed him to the spare room.

  They searched for ten minutes—under the bed, around the room—but didn’t find the watch. “You had it on last night at the pub. When did you realize it was gone?”

  “When I got to Linda’s room today.” Her right hand moved subconsciously to cover her left wrist where the watch often rested.

  He nodded. “Want to call the hospital? See if it turned up?”

  “I was thinking it could have come off at Dr. Merrick’s office. I moved around a lot there.” She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that it was there. “I’ll call in the morning.”

  “Good idea. I’ll check your car again in the daylight, if you want. Sometimes a second set of eyes is helpful.”

  She smiled, appreciating that he understood how important her father’s watch was to her.

  “No worries until tomorrow, then?” He smiled.

  “Agreed.” She relaxed as he led her, hand in hand, down the hall toward his bedroom.

  He opened the door and her eyes opened wide at the sight of a room filled with wooden wonders. “Wow.”

  Garrett dropped her hand, stood to the side.

  She faced him and the smile on his face made it obvious he’d hoped for such a reaction. “You made this?”

  He nodded and leaned against the doorframe, still grinning. She crossed the room and ran her hand along the smooth floor lamp. He’d used a tree trunk, and peeled off the bark to accentuate its natural lines. He’d polished the carved-wood bed frame to a shine.

  “Have to be careful of termites here in Florida, but a few treated pieces are okay.”

  His bedroom reminded her of a tree house. A masculine yet comfortable room that suddenly made her feel very feminine. She admired his work, his talent. Then she turned to admire him.

  A man had never looked so good. Not on TV, not on any archaeological dig, not in any college classroom. His soft smile stole her breath.

  She stood by his bed and shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her prosthesis socket slipped. Not much, but enough to remind her that she couldn’t burden anyone with the task of taking care of her.

  The thought sobered her. She forced herself to smile. “So, are you going to show me the rest of the house?”

  ****.

  They finished the tour in his kitchen and Garrett pulled two beers from the refrigerator and handed her one.

  “Your family must appreciate all you’re doing to find Tessa.” She took a swig of her beer.

  He turned away and crossed the room to stare out the window at the canal. But not before she’d caught the pain in his eyes.

  Her gut twisted at the thought that her words had hurt him. “Garrett if I said something out of line, I—”

  “No…you should know.” He whirled to face her but kept his gaze on the wall behind her, as if afraid to meet her eyes. The tortured
look on his face made her stomach muscles tense.

  “Tessa disappeared the day after we had a big fight.” He huffed out a sigh. “She probably went away because of me.” He shifted his gaze to meet hers as if afraid of what her face would reveal.

  How could he blame himself? She closed the distance between them and laid her hand on his arm. She only meant to comfort him, but the feel of his strong muscles bunching and unbunching under his cotton shirt stirred a need inside her. A need to comfort in a way that overpowered her good sense.

  She swallowed hard and reminded herself that this wasn’t a time to let her body respond to his. He needed to talk, not have her jump his bones.

  “Garrett, I met you only four days ago, but I can tell you’re not the type of person who would hurt someone intentionally.” She looked into his eyes and recognized a familiar pang. A feeling she knew all too well. Guilt. Two different women and the ways he thought he’d let them down.

  Guilt could hold as tight as a vice—it could drag him down as it spurred him toward something. She had no idea what her something was, but his something could lay at the bottom of the sea.

  She needed to comfort him. She slid her arms around his middle. With her heart hammering, she rested her head on his chest. She wanted to make him feel better, but when he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, she found she was the one feeling secure and safe.

  He pulled back just enough to cup her jaw in his palm. He stared down at her with haunted brown eyes, dipped his head, then lightly brushed his lips against hers.

  Her head spun from the sheer warmth of him. His body, his mouth. “Garrett.” His name slipped out of her lips.

  He pulled back and slipped a hand to the back of her head and massaged her neck gently. Tingles of pleasure shot through her whole body. His warm hands made her wonder what it would feel like to have them travel the length of her.

  She’d had two beers—hadn’t even finished the second one. But she felt drunker than if she’d had a six pack. Not stupid drunk—like the drug she’d been injected with—but dizzy from his kiss.

  He bent to kiss her again and his tongue slipped between her lips. She pressed against him and groaned. He tasted of beer and his hard body pressed to hers. She arched against him, needing to be as close as possible.