Beneath the Surface

by Joya Fields

  “What?” Brooke asked.

  “I’m not supposed to tell you,” Linda continued, “But I’m getting sick of keeping things from you. From now on, I’m telling you every goddamned thing.”

  Brooke wanted to shout hurry…get it out…whatever it is you have to say. But her mouth moved too slowly for her brain.

  “Garrett came in the other morning and asked me to say I needed you here with me.” She lifted a brow and continued. “He was worried you would be in danger if you helped him. He said too many people were getting hurt. And if I could keep you with me, I’d be protecting you.”

  “What?” Brooke’s emotions switched from hurt to anger within seconds. She didn’t need his protection.

  Linda hurried on. “I agreed. When he told me about everything that’s happened to you, I agreed to do it. He called me and asked me to do it again today. Except, then the doctors came in and by the time I called you, you’d already left for the boat.” Her face softened. “He seems nice...”

  Brooke glanced around the room, taking in all the flowers and cards arranged on the window sill, to avoid Linda’s direct gaze.

  “What’s going on between the two of you?” Linda asked.

  “Well, uh….” Brooke’s face heated.

  “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?” Linda smiled.

  “He’s…well, he’s becoming pretty important to me.” Then the smile that had worked its way to her face fell. “But going behind my back, asking you to keep me occupied?”

  “He meant well, wanted you safe. I do, too.”

  “I know.” Brooke let her thoughts wander. “But he’s overprotective. He can’t help himself. Sooner or later that becomes a burden.” She met Linda’s gaze.

  “I know that look.” Linda shook a finger at her. “Don’t go there. Jonathan can go to hell. Garrett isn’t Jonathan.”

  Two quick knocks on the door frame kept Brooke from having to come up with a reply. Jeff—looking a little pale and scratched up, with a giant smile on his face—pushed his wheelchair into the room.

  “Linda!”

  “Jeff!” Linda’s face lit up like grand finale fireworks on the Fourth of July. Brooke was suddenly reminded of her parents. The whole world could disappear when two people in love were together. Sometimes she felt like a third wheel around her parents. And right now, for the first time ever, she felt like a third wheel around Linda and Jeff.

  She smiled at them, stood, and headed for the door.

  “Brooke,” Linda said when Brooke was almost to the door. “Be careful. If anything happens to you, I’m going to feel so guilty that I didn’t stop you from helping him.”

  Brooke nodded and blew them both a kiss. Outside in the hallway, the smile dropped from her face. Would she ever have that kind of love—the kind that made the whole world disappear? Garrett’s face popped into her head, and she pushed it out just as quickly as it had appeared. She had to get her own life straightened out before she could focus on a relationship.

  A relationship with Garrett wouldn’t work. The best way for her to keep her heart safe was to avoid him. She’d stay away from him as much as possible before heading back home.

  Jeff and Linda were better. Garrett knew where to find the box. And now Dr. Merrick had left town. All her reasons to stay in Florida were gone. It was time for her to head back to Baltimore and get her life back on track.

  Why then, did her entire body ache at the thought of leaving Garrett?

  ****

  The man smiled and looked up at the hospital building from his car in the parking lot. It would be a shame to have to blow so much of the building to pieces. He shrugged and held the detonator in the palm of his hand. A small price to pay to get rid of all three of them.

  He couldn’t have planned it better. From his spot outside her room, he’d heard Linda mention that Jeff was joining them.

  Smiling, he fingered the red button that would end his problems. Even if they figured out the brown paper-covered box on the cart caused the explosion, the police could never trace it back to him.

  Some poor chap with an afro would be the prime suspect.

  The man chuckled, took a deep breath, and pressed the button, ready to see a show.

  The smile fell from his face when nothing happened. No fire, no flying glass. Not even a puff of smoke from the hospital windows.

  He jabbed the button again, holding firm pressure with both thumbs.

  Not a damn thing.

  He threw the detonator to the passenger seat floor.

  Tightening his jaw, he straightened in his seat and took a deep breath to regain composure. There were other ways to get them.

  ****

  Garrett slammed the door to the holding cell with more force than necessary, glad for the distraction of work. He should feel good knowing he’d put a carjacker behind bars. But the crime that festered in the forefront of his mind was the one in a box at the bottom of the ocean. They were so close to finding out if the red hair coming from the crate belonged to Tessa. The fact that the bad weather kept them from bringing the container to the surface made it tough to be pleased about anything right now.

  He moved across to the next room, where he’d spend the next hour filling out the paperwork for the man’s arrest.

  “At least I’ll be distracted by work,” he mumbled as he glanced up at the rain pounding against the window.

  What did it mean that Rico’s body was found so near to where the box was found? Did he kill her, and then kill himself? Garrett didn’t think so. Tessa didn’t have an enemy in the world…but Rico had plenty. And Rico was way too cocky to feel remorse or devalue his own life. If Rico’s body hadn’t been found, the kid would be at the top of Garrett’s suspect list. But now, with the discovery of the body, he didn’t know what to think.

  Drug traffickers made more sense. Did Tessa get sucked into a drug deal because of Rico?

  Frustrated, he pulled his chair under his desk and banged his knee on the sturdy wooden unit. Instead of resisting the pain, he savored it. Pain was concrete…real. Finding the truth was not always so easy.

  He opened his laptop and pounded on the keys, eager to get his report done. His shift ended in two hours. He needed to plan for tomorrow morning’s dive. It bothered him that he looked forward to having Brooke by his side tomorrow.

  He rubbed his knee to dissipate the pain and let his worries about Brooke take a back seat. There would be police and Coast Guard all around the area.

  Thunder crashed outside and the rain came at the window sideways. He could put carjackers away for a few years, he could arrest rapists and drug dealers, but he couldn’t control the people in his life.

  He grabbed a mug from his desk, stood, and walked to the coffee pot that boasted tar-like black liquid.

  “Garrett, give me a hand with this guy?” A seasoned detective with a pot belly escorted a tall, bulky man who was obviously drunk.

  Garrett nodded and set down his cup. He wrestled one hand on the handcuffed-guy’s shoulder and another around his elbow to guide him to a holding cell.

  He left his cell phone on his desk. Halfway across the room, he heard it ring.

  The other cop raised a brow. “Need to get that?”

  “Nah,” Garrett said. “I’ll check voicemail when I get back.”

  ****

  Brooke bit her lip and disconnected, glad that she’d been able to leave a message for Garrett instead of talking with him personally.

  Was she doing the right thing?

  She turned into his driveway and parked. She used the spare key he lent her and packed her belongings. With one last glance around, she laid the key and a short note on one of his handmade tables and closed the door.

  She headed to the new hotel with tears stinging her eyes. She would not burden Garrett. Danger still surrounded her, she knew that. She wouldn’t be careless enough to risk her safety. She’d arranged to stay in a hotel room on the same floor as the Yis. If she sensed danger, she’d hav
e help nearby.

  She’d stay in town one more day to help bring the box to the surface. She didn’t have a reason to be in Florida after that. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving Flagler, leaving Garrett.

  The windshield wipers flapped at full speed in a futile attempt to clear the windshield of the pouring rain. Brooke knew she had a long, cold night ahead of her. She wouldn’t sleep, she accepted that. She would be reaching out for that warm, hard body that wouldn’t be next to her. And just to make sure she wouldn’t be tempted to give into her need for him, she would turn off her cell phone.

  ****

  Brooke rubbed her swollen eyes the next morning and powered up her phone. Five missed calls from Garrett. She remained true to the painful promise she’d made to herself. In spite of the restless night, she never turned on the phone. She knew hearing his voice would break her resolve to let him go.

  She dialed his number with shaky fingers.

  “Hey,” he answered, his voice solemn. “Everything okay?”

  She closed her eyes to the pain. “Yes.” She traced a pattern on the notepad next to her bed. “I just wanted you to know I’ll be there by seven a.m. for the dive. You’re leaving from your house?” The sound of his voice made her want to run to him.

  “Yes. I wish you would have stayed the night here last night. It would have been safer for you.”

  She swallowed and bit her lip, but couldn’t find her voice.

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” he said.

  “Okay.” She paused and blinked away a tear. “See you soon.”

  She disconnected and glanced at the pad of paper. Without knowing it, she’d doodled two hearts.

  After a quick shower and change of clothes, she headed to Garrett’s house.

  “Hey.” Garrett held a hand out to help her on the boat. The line between his brows deepened and Brooke attributed it to the fact that they would be bringing up the box today.

  The Coast Guard and the Sheriff’s Underwater Recovery Unit would work together, which meant Stephie would be on the team. But Garrett, Diego and Brooke would watch from the surface.

  “Hey, Brooke,” Diego nodded at her from the back of the vessel.

  “’Morning,” Brooke said. The somber mood aboard the boat kept small talk to a minimum.

  “Hell of a thing about that bomb scare at the hospital,” Diego said.

  “Thank God it was a dud.” Garrett frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Bomb?” Brooke’s heart stammered. “At the hospital?”

  “Yeah. They found it on a cart in the hospital laundry center.”

  “They evacuated the entire south wing. All clear now, but I haven’t found out any details, have you?” He looked at Garrett.

  Garrett shook his head and looked out over the water as if already focused on their grim task.

  Brooke relaxed. Linda’s room was in the north wing. She took a seat at the rear of the craft. Diego raised his brow a fraction of an inch then moved to sit up front next to Garrett. She couldn’t be close to Garrett and still resist him. One more day. She could make it.

  Thirty minutes later, Garrett stopped the boat at the spot where they’d anchored yesterday. He pulled alongside the bigger Sheriff Department vessel and even bigger Coast Guard vessel.

  Morning sun burned off yesterday’s rain clouds, and the light would help give the divers more visibility.

  Sheriff Leffler nodded to them from his boat. The divers received last-minute instructions and then pulled on the remainder of their gear. Diego moved closer to listen in on the conversation.

  Garrett glanced at Brooke, pulled the keys out of the ignition, and sat next to her. He didn’t say a word, simply gazed into her eyes. She yearned to put a hand on his knee or an arm around his shoulder, tell him everything would be okay. But she didn’t know that it would be okay—whatever they found could devastate his family. And she didn’t think she could leave town tonight if she touched his warm body again. Hard enough to live with the memory of his touch.

  His proximity made it hard to inhale deeply. She fought the urge to lean forward and kiss him.

  He beat her to it. He bent and brushed his lips against hers. “I missed you last night.”

  She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She wasn’t strong enough for this.

  “Nice of you to keep the Yis company. They’ve been through a lot,” he said. “Thanks for leaving me a note to let me know where you were and why. I still can’t believe you’re leaving, though.”

  With an aching heart, she nodded her head.

  He leaned close again, close enough that she could smell his breath—a whiff of peppermint. “You’re still planning to leave tonight?”

  Before she could answer, Diego hollered from the bow. “They’re going in.”

  Brooke stood, glad for the distraction. She dug her hands in her jeans pockets to keep the urge to reach for his hand under control. She cleared her throat. “We’d better observe this.”

  At the boat’s edge, the bubbles disappeared and the divers descended. A crewmember tossed straps, netting, and inflatable lifting bags to the last diver. Now it would be a waiting game. It could be a while before the divers found anything, and even longer before they could open the box.

  “Garrett!” Sheriff Leffler called from the other craft. “Step aboard. You can watch the monitor.” He nodded at Diego and Brooke and added, “All of you.”

  They crawled across the boat and onto the larger one and Garrett stayed by Brooke’s side, ready to help if she needed him. She told herself he would do that for anyone, and that it had nothing to do with her disability. He was a gentleman.

  Garrett focused on the monitor, as if willing the divers to hurry. How could he blame himself for Tessa’s disappearance? She wished she could take away his guilt, make him understand that people made their own choices.

  Butterflies flittered in Brooke’s stomach when the divers touched down on the ocean floor. Moments later, when they spotted the rock formation on the video screen, she heard Garrett gasp. Instinctively, she reached for his hand.

  His fingers curled in hers and stirred a need in the pit of her stomach.

  Stephie waved her arms, directing the other divers’ attention with her light. With a quick pan of the camera, the box came into view on the monitor.

  Even in the dark water, lit only by dim flashlights, the red hair shined.

  With a pained look on his face, Garrett reached out and touched the monitor, stroking the container as if feeling for his cousin’s presence.

  Sheriff Leffler clapped a hand on Garrett’s shoulder. Diego took a step closer to him, and Brooke held his shaking hand.

  She moved her head close to his, trying not to inhale so she wouldn’t be tempted by the alluring scent of him. “Are you sure you want to watch?” she whispered.

  With his lips pressed tight, he nodded, then squeezed her hand.

  The divers attached an air cylinder to a flotation bag. Within minutes, they filled six bags and attached them to the net-encased box. The box lifted off the ocean floor.

  Garrett tightened his grip on her hand.

  The divers filled one more floatation bag, attached it to straps, then gave the signal to winch it up. The box lifted an inch out of the silty ocean sand.

  Swirling sandy water couldn’t hide the strands of red hair that flickered and flowed in the current as the crate started its ascent to the surface.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brooke held herself tight to Garrett’s back as the motorcycle made a turn. She wondered if it was okay to break a promise to herself. Earlier, she’d vowed that, no matter what, she’d go back to the hotel this evening.

  But she couldn’t leave Garrett alone tonight. She agreed to ride with him to the sheriff’s department. As much as she wanted her own car, and knew if she rode with him she’d be tempting herself, she chose the bike.

  He pulled to a stop in a parking spot. Brooke didn’t want to peel her body away from h
is. She slid off the bike and hugged her arms close to her chest to replace the warmth of Garrett’s body.

  He took her helmet, fastened it to the bike, and then grabbed her hand.

  “Might as well get this over with.”

  They walked silently down the long corridor to the lab.

  Flagler’s forensic team didn’t need Brooke looking over their shoulder to excavate from the sea. They knew what they were doing—she’d made sure of that by double-checking the sheriff department’s sea-water extraction technique. Right now, she considered herself a bystander, one who needed to be there for Garrett.

  Garrett set his jaw as they entered the lab. The box, still wet, still mostly intact, sat on a metal table on the strong board they’d used to carry it in. The saltwater had acted as a preservative. As soon as they opened it, let air inside, they risked that anything within could fall apart.

  “A few minutes…” She laid her hand on his shoulder and watched the forensic team gather their tools.

  The Medical Examiner stepped forward and took pictures of the box.

  “Stand back, not so close,” Leffler said to them. He’d let them watch, but they weren’t allowed to interfere. In spite of his direction, they couldn’t resist their desire to see the box and its contents, so they involuntarily crept toward the table.

  ****

  Garrett’s hand shook in hers.

  The M.E.’s lips twisted. Whatever he spotted in the box didn’t make him happy. With a nod, he took a step back, inviting them forward.

  Twelve inches of cloudy water covered twisted human bones.

  Garrett groaned and leaned against her, but kept his eyes glued to the box. Brooke had seen plenty of bones at excavations, but never from a person she had a connection to.

  Saltwater had preserved some of the integrity of the clothes, and the container had protected the insides from most of the sea scavengers. Human hair—hair that had once been attached to the skull—now lay across the edge of the crate.

  It didn’t take an archaeologist to know that pieces of what had once been a pink or light orange shirt now lay on the upper half of the skeleton, and on the lower half…a pair of tattered tiny white shorts. One flip flop floated on top of the water. They stood in complete silence and stared.