by Joya Fields
“This is Dr. Merrick’s office. He can see you today at one o’clock for the final fitting.”
She squeezed the steering wheel. Not today. He said it would be a few days. She had to help Garrett today.
“Before I forget, I was wondering if you found a watch at the office or in the examining room. An orange-faced men’s dive watch.”
“No, sorry. No watch. I tidied up before leaving yesterday, didn’t see a thing. I’ll keep an eye out for it, though.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Would there be any chance for a late afternoon appointment today?” she asked.
“Later?” The receptionist must have put her hand over the receiver. A deep voice murmured in the background.
She came back on the line. “My apologies, Ms. Richards. Dr. Merrick is leaving town this afternoon.”
Probably off to Hollywood to film a movie or to see his girlfriend. Brooke couldn’t put off the dive again, couldn’t do that to Garrett and his family. They needed answers and needed to know if there was still hope Tessa was alive. Brooke pictured the new leg, could almost feel how comfortable she’d feel in it. Like a real leg.
She shook her head. Her new leg could wait till another day. Garrett’s family shouldn’t have to wait any longer. She made her decision.
“Could we schedule an appointment for the next time Dr. Merrick is in town?”
The receptionist paused. “That could be a while, Miss Richards. He’s going to Mexico to do some volunteer work.” Brooke noticed the surprise in the girl’s voice and guessed that most people didn’t pass up the chance to be seen by Dr. Merrick.
Brooke scheduled the next available appointment, three months away. She closed her phone and fought off the disappointment that swelled in her chest. She would get the leg soon. It didn’t have to be this week.
She flipped her cell phone open again, dialed Garrett, and was surprised how quickly her spirits lifted when she heard his voice.
“Brooke?” he asked in greeting.
“Where can I pick up some SCUBA gear? I’m diving with you today.”
****
Brooke swept the electronic pen across the credit card signer at the dive shop, trying not to worry about her next bill. Between medical expenses and a leave of absence from work, she would be tightening the belt big time in the coming months. Her grandfather always offered help, but so far she’d been able to make it on her own.
Of course, Grandfather made frequent gifts of gym memberships and gift cards to her favorite stores to help keep her in the black. Her grandfather found more gift-giving occasions to celebrate than Hallmark.
During the ten-minute drive to Garrett’s house, Brooke kept a constant look-out around her and checked the rearview mirror for suspicious cars. Without concrete proof, the police wouldn’t verify that the car-ramming incident was connected to the attack on the boat or even if it had been intentional.
Her gut told her that all the incidents were a part of a scheme to keep anyone from finding the box in the ocean. If they found the container, they’d be able to connect the dots between the events. She needed to make time today to talk to the sheriff. Maybe he’d approve of the idea of using Brooke as a decoy to flush out the person behind the explosion.
She guided the car to a stop at the curb in front of Garrett’s house and spotted his truck and a black Jeep in the driveway. She unloaded her gear and tried hard not to think about the dive ahead and how she’d feel once she entered the water.
A voice from the porch interrupted her thoughts.
“Hey,” the petite, pony-tailed Deputy Cooper said. “Want some help?” Without waiting for a reply, she jogged across the brittle brown lawn and grabbed the fins and facemask from Brooke’s arms just as her pile of supplies was getting ready to topple.
“Whew, thanks!” Brooke said, happy for the help. She still had to carry her wet suit, buoyancy compensator, oxygen tank, and knapsack.
“I’m off duty today,” the deputy said. She pushed Brooke’s rental car door shut with her hip and grabbed the wet suit from Brooke’s pile. “So I’m not Deputy Cooper, I’m just Stephanie Cooper today, okay?” She threw Brooke a wide toothy grin, and then started for the house. “The guys are down on the Amigo already.”
A few minutes later, they walked down the deck to the canal. “Towels are on the boat, but you brought a bathing suit, right? Great day to get some sun.”
“Yep, wearing the suit.” She smiled and remembered catching herself in the hotel bathroom mirror after she’d changed into the navy blue one-piece suit and jeans. She couldn’t believe the way her face and skin glowed.
She felt warmth spread through her middle at the thought of Garrett. His touch, his kisses… Thinking about him, remembering how good it felt to be with him and have his hands run over her skin made her smile.
“Hello? You with us?” Stephanie’s voice broke through Brooke’s thoughts. She’d apparently said something, but Brooke had missed it.
“Oh. What’d you say?”
Stephanie shook her head and grinned. “Never mind.”
Diego waited at the pier for them.
“Hey Brooke,” he said. Then his gaze lingered on Stephanie. “Hey, Coop.”
“Hey,” both girls said in unison.
He stepped onto the boat and they handed him their supplies. Then he turned back to face them. With one foot propped on the dock to hold the Amigo still, he said, “Let’s get going.” He extended a strong, tanned hand to Stephanie and guided her aboard.
With a huge smile that revealed his white teeth, Diego offered his hand to Brooke and helped her aboard.
Garrett glanced over at her just as she boarded. He smiled at her from the helm and her heart kicked against her ribs.
Her body tingled as she took in his boating attire—a long, faded, surfer-style bathing suit and nothing else. His tanned skin shimmered in the hot, late-morning sun and she instantly remembered the way that hard, muscular body had felt against hers…and on top of hers…underneath hers.
She felt a blush heat her face and it had nothing to do with the sun. She smiled back at him, thankful that nobody could read her thoughts.
“Hey,” Garrett said, waving her over. She crossed the vessel, holding onto the backs of the white vinyl seats for balance. She moved beside him and took a long, shaky breath to inhale his scent. Sunscreen, aftershave, and Garrett’s own musky male scent.
He slid his mirrored sunglasses past his nose and his gaze connected with hers.
Being close to him made her body go haywire. She wanted to slide her hands up his taut abs and crush his lips with hers.
Instead, she swallowed hard, hoping to appear casual. “How’s it goin’?” She’d never been like this with a man before—not even her ex-fiance during their early days together.
Garrett touched her bare upper arm. The skin-to-skin contact brought the memory of last night’s caresses slamming to the forefront of her mind. His gentle yet powerful strokes as he’d touched her last night.
Making love with him hadn’t relieved any of her anxiety about him. If anything, it increased it. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t lean on anyone, yet here she was, falling for Garrett. The thought made her gut pinch.
“Sure you want to dive?” He leaned closer—close enough that she could have moved an inch and touched her lips to his. “You don’t have to go in the water, you know.”
She knew how much he needed her help today. But he still wanted to give her an out. As much as she appreciated his thoughtfulness, she wanted to help him, had to help his family.
And now that she’d had to forego an appointment with Merrick to be here, there was no way she would back out now. “I appreciate the thought, but I want to. It’s been a long time since I’ve dived and…” she hesitated, not sure how much to divulge without getting emotional.
He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. Taking a step back, he gave her upper arms a gentle squeeze. His touch calmed and excited her at the same time.
He rubbed his work-roughened hands up and down her arms. Her pulse raced. She met his gaze and then her eyes drifted, as if subconsciously, to his lips. Her heart beat so loud she was sure he could hear it over the canal water that lapped against the boat.
He grinned and bent to kiss her, touching her lips so gently that her body moved forward with a will of its own.
She glanced up, wanting to see his face, as the memories of last night started pinging like a slideshow through her head. Right now, she felt the same breathless, heady feeling capturing her body, overtaking her senses.
Then she remembered Deputies Cooper and Diego just a few feet away.
She glanced toward the rear of the vessel and spotted the cop and deputy sitting side by side, grinning at them.
The blush that had started to warm her face earlier was now firing full force, heating her neck and face so strongly that it felt like sunburn.
“Don’t mind them. They’re just jealous.” Garrett leaned down for one last kiss.
Deputy Cooper snickered and Diego sat back and crossed his arms with a raised brow.
“Got your gear?” Garrett asked.
“Yep, thanks to a little help from Deputy Cooper.” She felt giddy, ready to take on the world after his kiss.
The deputy stood and pulled her t-shirt off, revealing a bright red bikini top. She proceeded to throw the shirt at Diego, and then strutted the few feet across the boat. “You can call me Stephie. Everybody does.” Her eyes connected with Diego’s. “Except Diego. He calls me Coop.”
“Okay, Stephie it is.” It was a relief to be concentrating on something other than her body’s unrelenting reaction to Garrett.
Stephie’s bathing suit top barely contained her ample chest. Her toned and suntanned petite body, along with huge gold hoop earrings, made her look like a twenty-year-old college student. Yet, her confidence, and a few tiny wrinkles around her eyes, gave her away as a thirty-something. That, and the holstered gun at the waistband of her cut-off jean shorts.
Stephie followed Brooke’s glance to her gun and patted it. “I dare anyone to mess with this vessel today.” Again she shot a look at Diego. Smiling, she added, “He’s got one too, but I’m a better shot.”
Diego snorted and rolled his eyes. “Let’s get going.”
Garrett chuckled and placed a hand on Brooke’s back. “Come up front with me.”
“Wait,” she said, turning toward her pile of supplies. “I need my knapsack. I downloaded some nautical charts and I have a new idea about the direction the current may have taken objects from the sea floor in the storm.”
Stephie bent and picked up the backpack, tossing it to Brooke.
Diego loosened the rope from the dock and Garrett started the engine. Brooke stood beside him, trying to read the new maps. She grabbed his forearm for balance as the Amigo powered forward.
He guided the boat along the canal to the open water and revved the engine. The craft swayed.
“Might want to sit down. Water’s a little choppy today,” Garrett hollered over the noise of the engine.
She nodded, took a seat near him and reviewed the paper on her lap.
Stephie laughed and Brooke glanced across the boat to see her smiling at Diego as he took off his shirt. For a split second, Brooke allowed herself to envy Stephie’s two legs, stretched out in front of her on the bench. What she wouldn’t give to feel so free about sitting around with bare legs, getting a tan.
She shook her head, reminded herself to focus. She would not feel sorry for herself, would not yearn for what she couldn’t have. Long ago, she’d made that promise.
Without another thought for her leg, she focused her attention to the chart and concentrated on reading the coordinates.
As soon as they hit the ocean waters, Garrett eased back on the throttle and motored to the spot they’d searched the other day. When he turned off the engine, the vessel rocked and swayed as they bobbed in the water and moved forward with the current. Sea gulls screeched and dove on the surface of the ocean and a salty spray misted in the air.
Garrett took a seat next to her and his upper leg brushed against her jeans. She doubled her efforts to concentrate on the papers.
“What have you got?” he asked.
She pointed to a spot on the chart. “The storm came in from this direction.” She pushed out a sigh and glanced over the ocean’s rough surface. “But high tide was early that day.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the current and the storm were at odds—going different directions.”
He nodded, glanced out at the ocean, and then focused on the map again.
“But I think something on the bottom of the ocean might have been picked up and carried this direction.” She ran her fingertip along the map.
He furrowed his brows as he studied the map and then ran his fingers through his hair. Was it hesitation she saw on his face, or fear? He stood and looked around the boat, then out at the water. “Let’s see what we find.”
He moved to the helm, started the engine, and took off at full throttle toward the location she’d mapped out.
She hoped she was right about the currents and said a quick prayer that she’d at least get them close.
****
Brooke’s muscles tensed as Garrett cut the engine. She’d promised them she’d dive, and she would. The moment of truth was near. She realized she held her breath and quickly reminded herself to exhale. She wouldn’t let her own fears and emotions get in the way of the real fear today—the concern that they would discover Tessa’s body down there.
May as well get moving. The sooner she got in the water, the sooner they’d know about the box. She used the vinyl seat to leverage herself.
“Wait a minute.” Garrett sat next to her and touched her upper arm. “We need to talk.”
Diego and Stephie made their way to the front of the craft.
Diego nodded at Garrett. “You tell her. I’ll fill in any blanks.”
Brooke looked from one man to the other. What did they need to tell her and why they did they both look so nervous? Worry snaked like an icicle through her veins.
“The sheriff isn’t convinced that all the incidents are related—the crate Linda and Jeff found with what looked like red hair, the boat explosion, the kidnapping, and the car that rammed you.” Garrett shook his head, then continued. “Since their divers couldn’t find anything, the sheriff’s not going to spend more resources on underwater searches.”
“He said he’ll send a vessel to patrol this area, but won’t commit manpower,” Diego added.
“The three of us,” Garrett said, glancing from Diego to Brooke. “That’s it.”
Well if that was the case, they needed Brooke diving even more than she’d thought. She turned to face Stephie and raised a brow at her new friend.
Stephie held up a hand and plopped against the cushioned seat with wide eyes. “Today, I’m on surface duty. Gotta work on my suntan.”
Brooke grinned at her attitude. She made light of it, but Brooke knew the three officers of the law had formulated a plan to keep her safe. At the moment, she wasn’t sure if it angered her or soothed her nerves.
“But I have a gun.” Stephie patted her side. “So I hope…I mean I really hope that the old guy comes back when you three are down there.” She rubbed the palms of her hands together as if anxious for a confrontation.
“So we’re on our own.” Brooke’s gaze connected with Garrett’s.
He crossed his arms over his tanned chest and nodded. Part of her really wished he’d put a shirt on. That smooth upper body was too much of a distraction.
“Okay…what’s our plan? How do we descend?” Brooke asked.
As Garrett explained their underwater signals and time limits, Brooke nodded, making mental notes.
“Wetsuit?” Stephie asked, holding out Brooke’s slick black sleeveless suit.
“Thanks,” Brooke said, unrolling the suit in front of her, glad she’d bought th
e thigh-length suit instead of the longer version. She didn’t want to have to cut off one of the legs for her prosthesis.
“Need any help?” Stephie glanced to the other side of the boat where the guys pulled on their suits.
Brooke shook her head, tried to keep her mind off the knot forming in her belly.
Stephie sat down beside her, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. “You know…I think you’re brave.”
Brooke tried to work up a small laugh, but it came out as a silent burst of air.
“Did you know Diego was shot in the ass?”
Brooke frowned, and then burst out laughing. If she had to guess, she’d say that Stephie recognized her tension and found a way to ease it. She could have hugged her, because it worked.
Brooke shed her jeans, took off her prosthesis and tried not to feel self-conscious. She stretched the wetsuit over her legs.
“Pull me up?” Brooke could lean on a friend once in a while, couldn’t she? When they offered help, she couldn’t very well keep turning them down. She was beginning to understand that needing others wasn’t always a sign of dependence. Garrett needed her right now, didn’t he?
With a smile, Stephie held out her hands, pulled Brooke up and helped her balance on one foot. Brooke grabbed the back of a seat.
“Yeah, it’s still a nice ass, though,” Stephie said, stepping forward to pull up Brooke’s wetsuit zipper as Brooke chuckled.
Taking her leg off hadn’t been as uncomfortable as she’d thought. Garrett and Diego had stayed on the other side of the boat, and Stephie’s friendly banter kept Brooke’s embarrassment to a minimum.
Brooke sat near the starboard edge and wiggled her arms through the straps of her oxygen tank. She took the face mask when Stephie held it out and smiled at the petite, beautiful woman. “Thanks.” Brooke wanted to say more, wanted to thank her for being discreet, for being patient. She could tell by Stephie’s return smile that the woman understood exactly what Brooke was thanking her for.
“Go get ’em, girl.”
With her wetsuit secure, she stopped, took a steadying breath, then pulled a flipper on her left foot. Her residual leg stuck out a few inches below the wet suit. Brooke should have been embarrassed…should have felt self-conscious. No time to worry about her leg now. She needed to focus her attention on the dive.