Beneath the Surface

by Joya Fields

  “All set?” Garrett asked. His brows creased with tension as he sat beside her.

  She scooted her body to the edge of the boat, then spit into her facemask and smeared it with her finger to keep it from fogging. She plugged the mouthpiece between her lips and checked the underwater camera at her belt. Garrett and Diego adjusted their mouthpieces.

  Through the face mask, Garrett’s eyes looked huge—gigantic chocolate brown eyes that couldn’t hide the worry emanating from them. They’d soon find out whether or not that worry was warranted.

  ****

  Three minutes later, Brooke found herself surrounded by bubbles as she bled off some of the air in her buoyancy compensator and descended. She shut her eyes and the water caressed her skin. Its coolness wrapped around her and settled her nerves.

  She missed being in the water more than she’d realized. The fact that she couldn’t flutter kick—she’d end up going sideways—wasn’t a problem. She quickly discovered that pressing her thighs together and doing a butterfly kick worked just as well as fluttering and wasn’t nearly as awkward as she’d expected.

  Opening her eyes, she spotted Garrett and Diego through the bubbles. She gave Garrett two thumbs up so he would know she was doing fine. Oddly, she didn’t feel an emptiness without her parents by her side. Almost as if their spirits were beside her.

  She took advantage of the slow drop to the ocean floor to admire her surroundings. Only sparse sunlight trickled down through the water because of clouds overhead. There would likely be rain by evening. Soon they’d be surrounded by dark, deep ocean life. For now, she admired the way the sunlight filtered through the water—little light spears that moved with the current, flashing past and around her.

  She’d been missing out on this peaceful feeling for two years and it felt good to be back. The water swished around her, pulling her slightly, as if making sure she respected its power.

  Quiet creatures of the ocean surrounded her, their secrets scattered along its floor. She respected those secrets, and respected that some secrets would never be exposed. But those surreptitious objects that could be discovered…those were the ones she wanted to find.

  Why hadn’t she tried this before? It wasn’t even mildly hard. She glanced to her left and right, flanked by Garrett and Diego. She knew they were part of the reason she felt so comfortable.

  She was born to do this. There was nothing else she could do for a living and feel this passionate. Teaching about underwater archaeology didn’t come remotely close to living it.

  As if synchronized, they all three took out their flashlights as they hit the sandy ocean floor. Colorful fish swam around them, illuminated in the thin beams of light. Everything was perfect.

  As planned, they stayed close to each other, but each traveled a separate direction.

  The oxygen flowing through the mouth piece was the only whispering sound, with each slow intake and outtake of breath.

  Their task down here was a serious one, and as much as this dive filled her with renewed hope, she tempered that feeling with the dread of what they’d find. She focused on the coarse sand and swam along the ocean floor, aiming her flashlight with one hand and sweeping the surface of the sand with the other. A strange seashell caught her attention and she turned her flashlight to examine it closer. But when the light bounced off something shiny and metallic, she knew she’d found much more than a seashell.

  She tried to swallow the scream that forced its way up her throat as she found herself staring at the deep empty eye sockets of a human skull.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brooke’s body reacted before she could think and her mouthpiece flew out of her mouth. She fumbled and forced herself to rely on her dive training from years ago. With shaking fingers, she grabbed for the mouthpiece that sprayed bubbles all around and then clenched it between her lips.

  With a deep, calming pull of oxygen, she forced herself to focus on breathing instead of giving into the instinct that made her want to pant in fear. One deep breath and then another, and she grew calmer. She braced herself and reached for the flashlight that had dropped from her hand. Willing her trembling limbs to cooperate, she turned to wave her hands to signal distress to Garrett and Diego.

  Her flashlight cast a spooky beam across the remains. She’d found bodies before—that was part of the job. But this one was different…more recently deposited. She closed her eyes, making sure her breathing was steady, then pushed herself to shine the beam of light on the front of the skull. This wasn’t an ancient archaeology find…but she didn’t think it was female either. From a quick glance at the brow ridge, she guessed the remains were male.

  Although predatory fish had eaten away all the flesh, some pieces of tattered clothing still clung to the remains. And the bones—which would likely have been widely scattered over the ocean floor—remained intact due to diving weights which not only kept the body from floating to the surface during the decomposition process, they kept the bones relatively close to one another on the ocean floor.

  She directed the light from the shoulders along the body, then swallowed a scream when something touched her shoulder.

  Garrett. He moved beside her and shined his flashlight across the bones. The victim had been weighted down with what looked like over fifty pounds of diving weights. Garrett reached past her and flashed a beam of light on the silty sand and then Brooke saw it—the flash that had caught her eye. Garrett reached down with a gloved hand and lifted it.

  She narrowed her eyes to get a better look at his outstretched palm. A bracelet of some sort. Her facemask kept her from being able to see any details. Garrett shook his head slowly, unzipped his dive bag, and slipped the bracelet inside.

  Garrett waved his arms and signaled for Diego to join them, and then flashed his light on the skeleton. Diego swam toward them. Even in the darkness, Brooke could see surprise and concern in Diego’s eyes.

  Should they keep looking for the box or return to the surface to call the police?

  Garrett must have had the same thought because he scanned the surrounding area with his light.

  But then Diego made the decision that Garrett couldn’t. He tapped Garrett’s shoulder and pointed toward the surface. Garrett closed his eyes for a long minute, nodded, and then reached out for Brooke’s hand. Together they took off for the surface.

  As much as they wanted to hurry, they had to pace themselves, could only come up as fast as their air bubbles until they reached the end of the safety rope, fifteen feet from the surface. They needed to take their three-minute rest stop to keep from getting the bends. They were the longest three minutes Brooke could ever remember experiencing.

  They broke the choppy ocean surface after what seemed like an hour instead of five minutes.

  Stephie stuck her head over the edge of the boat and frowned. “Back so soon? I didn’t get to use my gun yet!”

  “Call Sheriff Leffler and the Coast Guard,” Garrett said, his face grim. He pulled off his mask. “Tell him them we found the remains of a body, probably male.”

  Stephie’s eyes widened, then she nodded solemnly and took out her cell phone to make the call.

  Diego climbed to the top of the ladder, then reached out a hand to help Brooke.

  Brooke suddenly realized she’d been so focused on getting into the water that she hadn’t thought of how she was going to get out. Eyeing the ladder, she tried to think of a way to climb it, but couldn’t.

  “I’ll pull you,” Diego said, adding, “If you want.”

  Honesty would be her best bet. “I’m not sure how to do this.” She glanced at Garrett, who patiently held onto the ladder beside her, even though he was probably dying to get on board to examine the bracelet.

  “Hand me your oxygen tank and then let Diego pull you till you can get a foothold on the first step,” Garrett suggested. “I’ll be here to push if you need me to.”

  It could work. Maybe not the most dignified way to board a vessel, but right now they all had big
ger things on their minds.

  She shrugged out of her oxygen tank, handed it to Garrett, and turned to grasp Diego’s strong hands. As he pulled, she found a ladder rung with her right foot.

  “Got it.” She gripped the ladder and pulled herself to the top, knowing Garrett was right behind her, ready to catch her if she slipped.

  She climbed on board, panting from the exertion and right away spotted Stephie, waiting for her, holding her prosthesis.

  “Thanks,” Brooke said. She slid onto the tan vinyl seat next to Stephie. She shrugged out of her wetsuit, glad that she’d worn a simple one-piece navy-blue bathing suit beneath.

  The moment Garrett stepped onboard the boat, he dug into his dive bag and pulled out the bracelet. Diego was by his side within seconds.

  Both men squinted at what must have been writing on one side of it. It looked like an army-issued ID bracelet.

  “It’s Rico, isn’t it?” Diego said. He slapped a hand on Garrett’s shoulder.

  Garrett’s face turned ghost-white. Still staring at the bracelet, he nodded. “Medic Alert bracelet. He had diabetes. It’s rusty, but it’s his name.”

  “Who’s Rico?” Brooke asked, turning to face Stephie.

  Stephie leaned an arm on the back of the seat, and her forehead fell into her palm. She expelled a ragged sigh. “Rico was Tessa’s boyfriend. He was considered a suspect in her disappearance.”

  Brooke heard police sirens in the distance. She focused on their conversation so intently that she slipped a sock on her residual limb without even thinking about being embarrassed. “So what does that mean?” She pulled the socket and prosthesis onto her leg.

  “I don’t know.” Stephie’s gaze shot across the boat at Garrett. “It might mean Rico didn’t have anything to do with Tessa’s disappearance.” With a sad look in her eyes, she shook her head. “It might also mean Tessa’s down there with him.”

  Gray clouds billowed in the sky above and blocked the sun as a slow misty drizzle began to trickle down, chilling the air. Goosebumps broke out along Brooke’s arms.

  She stood, clad only in her bathing suit. For once she didn’t care who saw her prosthesis, didn’t think about covering up. What she cared about was the skeleton in the water and the look of pain on Garrett’s face.

  ****

  Thirty minutes later, Brooke could see the muscles in Garrett’s face tense as he worked to contain his anger. He gripped the back of one of the sheriff’s department vessel’s seats with such force she thought he’d rip the vinyl covering.

  “We’re going down, too,” Garrett said.

  Sheriff Leffler, an older man with bushy white-gray hair, shook his head. “Let our divers do their job.”

  They both looked up as a helicopter circled above the craft. “Crap,” Leffler nudged one of the deputies near him. “Dan, the media’s here, cover up those remains.” He turned back to Garrett. “I feel for you Ciavello, I do. And I appreciate the work the four of you did to find this. But don’t dive in this area anymore.” With a raised brow, he stared at Garrett for a long minute, then added, “And as much as I hate this, I’m probably going to have to question you at headquarters. I know you and Rico weren’t the best of friends.”

  He raised a palm to stop Garrett from speaking and Leffler added, “No, I’m not saying I think you did it.” He slapped a hand on Garrett’s shoulder, then Leffler turned and walked toward the sheriff department and Coat Guard divers.

  Brooke tried to shake the thought of Garrett being considered a suspect and decided to voice the idea that started forming in her mind. The four of them were alone now and she could tell them what she’d been waiting to say for the last half hour.

  She stepped in front of Garrett. He glared at the sheriff’s back. “Did the sheriff give you an off-limits radius for diving?”

  His gaze connected with hers and her heart dipped at the sadness she saw in them. He huffed out a sigh and shook his head.

  Diego stepped next to them. “What’d you have in mind?”

  “I have an idea.” She jerked her glance toward the sheriff. “I don’t want anyone else to overhear.” Her underwater instincts kicked into full gear. She knew things that the Underwater Recovery Unit divers hadn’t figured out yet.

  She kept her voice low. “Let’s get back to Garrett’s boat.”

  The muscles in Garrett’s face relaxed. He studied her for a moment and nodded once. Then he leaned over the side to pull the rope that tethered their craft to the sheriff department’s boat.

  “I’m glad you’re on our team,” Garrett said. He climbed down the ladder and with a thud, jumped on his vessel. He opened his arms in a gesture that offered help to Brooke if she needed it.

  But all the climbing around and hopping up and onto boats today gave her a strange new confidence. She could do it herself. She eased down the ladder and took a big step onto one of the seats on the stern. She couldn’t jump like Garrett had, but she did it herself, nonetheless.

  Stephie and Diego followed them aboard and Diego bent to untie the rope.

  “I don’t like this weather.” Brooke glanced at the dark gray clouds gathering overhead. She grew worried that they may not be able to get any more answers to their diving questions today.

  Garrett’s jaw tensed and she could tell his worry grew with each passing minute. With a slow, determined stride, he moved to the helm, started the engine and steered the boat away. Diego and Stephie pulled in the buoys.

  A bolt of lightning streaked across the darkening sky, putting Brooke’s plans on hold. They couldn’t use her new idea until tomorrow. By then, maybe they’d have a better plan to locate the box. Because she had a strong feeling she knew exactly where to find it.

  ****

  The man lowered his binoculars and turned in his seat. He didn’t care if it stormed. He was plenty safe on the water in his cabin cruiser. In fact, if he got lucky enough, maybe the nosy group on the other boat would get struck by lightning and cease to be a problem for him.

  They wouldn’t have found Rico’s body if that rope hadn’t broken the other day. They were getting too close. But he’d been very careful, hadn’t he? Nobody would connect him to Rico’s murder.

  The box was another story. He’d sworn that girl to secrecy, but he knew how talkative girls could be. He needed the crate to stay hidden. Without proof, they could never pin a thing on him.

  Without the box, they’d never have proof.

  ****

  Garrett leaned back into the cushions of his well-worn brown sofa. He stared as Brooke peeled a corner off the label on her beer bottle. They’d picked up a pizza and beer on their way back to his house. The pizza sat untouched on the coffee table.

  “I don’t have a degree in forensics, but I’ve seen a lot of bones.” Brooke scrubbed a hand over her face. “Based on the tattered clothing and the deterioration of the remains, I’d guess the body had been underwater for two months.”

  Two months. Just about the time Tessa disappeared. Garrett still couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that Rico had been dumped in the ocean.

  “Medical Examiner should have a preliminary report by tomorrow,” he said, “but I’d put my money on your conclusion any day.” Her soft smile stole his heart. He leaned forward and focused his attention on the file folder in his hands.

  “We didn’t have a load of leads to begin with. Now we’re two months past the time of Tessa’s disappearance. This case is growing colder with each passing minute. Let’s go back to the beginning, with the fact that her car was found at the pier.” Garrett frowned at the memory of the day Tessa went missing. “Her purse and cell phone were still in it.” He took a long swig of his beer, letting the cool liquid quench his thirst and coat his throat.

  He turned to face Brooke and her gaze locked on his. Another day, another time, he could get lost in those blue-gray eyes. He blew out a hard breath and continued. “I’m trying to stick to the facts, but Rico had the motive to kill Tessa. I still think it was him. Or
one of the druggies he was involved with.” He repositioned himself. “Our guys found hair follicles and fingerprints on the car but no sign of struggle, and the prints and fibers only matched Tessa’s and Rico’s.”

  Brooke peeled the label off and rolled it between her hands. He admired her strength. She dove today for the first time since losing her parents. She hadn’t made a big deal of it. But it had to have been a big step for her.

  And she’d been the one to find Rico’s remains. Hell of a re-initiation to the water.

  She set her empty beer bottle on the table and he didn’t see a scared, shaken woman. He started to understand that it wouldn’t have mattered if he wanted her to dive or not. She would have insisted on it. And right now, with worry building in his gut about the slim chance of finding Tessa alive, he was glad to have her on his side. God help him, in spite of the events of the day, he watched her slender hands roll the beer label and his mind drifted to thoughts of her hands on his body last night. He shook his head to clear it.

  “I’m obviously not a cop,” Brooke said. She folded her hands on her lap and stared at Garrett, then glanced at Diego and Stephie. The blue in her blue-gray eyes stood out more tonight. Maybe it was the way the lights were shining, but he sensed something else there too. Passion. Had her eyes looked like that last night when they’d made love?

  “But in a way,” she continued, “archaeologists are trained to do the same things as cops—follow a trail, piece together evidence.”

  Garrett stood and paced the floor behind the sofa. It helped to move, helped to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

  Brooke leaned forward with her palms on her knees. “I think we all agree that whoever hurt Linda is the same person, or at least is working with the same person who shot me up with drugs. This person doesn’t want Tessa’s body found.” She winced and glanced at Garrett. “Sorry, Garrett.”

  Garrett closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “I think she’s in that box. Especially now that we found Rico down there.” His voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat, trying to shake the emotion out. “I agree with you.”