Beneath the Surface

by M. J. Fredrick

  “Why would he do this to me, Mal? Not once, but twice? Didn’t he realize what he was doing? That he was sacrificing me?”

  The strangled sound of his voice squeezed her heart. Was this how he’d suffered after Tunisia, and she’d walked away? What an idiot she’d been. How much extra pain she’d caused, being selfish. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, determined to make it up to him, because damn, this was going to do a number on his ability to trust anyone. “I think he did realize. That’s why he didn’t cash the check.”

  “Well, he was too late.” Adrian shifted away from her. “He already gave them the information that got him killed. I cried for the bastard, Mallory. He was my best friend. I cried for him, and he was stabbing me in the back.” He got to his feet and walked away.

  He couldn’t stay out here any longer. Too dangerous, too isolated, too vulnerable. Adrian strode to the center of the camp, where Mallory was lacing her boots on the bench.

  “We’re going to Belize City,” he told her. “Get everything you need to take with you.”

  She scrambled to her feet and jammed her hands on her hips. “Are we coming back?”

  He was. Right now he wanted her as far away from this place as he could get her. Whatever he needed to do to keep her safe. “I don’t know. We need to leave here in fifteen minutes.” The banks closed at three. He wanted to get this check there, buy himself a boat and come back to the site. Mallory wouldn’t understand that. She was better off in the States anyway.

  Without him.

  Pushing her away might be even harder than walking away had been because now he knew what he’d be missing.

  “Are we going to the police?”

  He opened his mouth to ask what good that would do. They’d already cleaned up the camp, so any clues that might have been around were destroyed. But he needed to reassure her, so he nodded.

  She headed to the driver side within ten minutes, her duffel slung over her shoulder.

  “I’ll drive.” He moved past her and grabbed the door handle.

  She merely shifted her weight to look up at him. “Your arm.”

  Which she’d inspected last night when they’d come out of the water. Yes, the area along the stitches was red and hurt like the devil, but driving wouldn’t kill him.

  “I swam yesterday and made love to you last night, twice.” He couldn’t even force a playful tone into his voice as long as he was considering ditching her in Belize City. “I can handle driving.” Because, God help him, he couldn’t sit still while she drove for hours. He’d find a way to talk himself out of sending her home.

  She stepped back, her brow furrowed in silent concern, but she let him have his way.

  She didn’t say much once they were on the road either, and he couldn’t think of anything to talk about that wasn’t about Robert or the site. Most of the ride passed in tense silence.

  The Land Cruiser got stuck in the mud three times, so they were filthy when they got to town. They rented a cheap hotel room this time, just long enough for both of them to shower and change. Adrian didn’t even look at the bed, already resigned to the fact that he’d made love to Mallory for the last time. There would be no coming back from this, but she would be alive, and that was all that mattered.

  Adrian insisted on going to the bank first. The joint account Adrian shared with Dr. Vigil made the transaction simple. Once that was done, Mallory was ready to go to the police.

  Time to pick the fight that would send her home. Shouldn’t be hard. He’d just revert to the asshole who’d chased her away three years ago.

  Chapter Fifteen

  He waited until they were on the street in front of the bank, wanting the distraction of other people, of movement, and not of the hope that they could move forward. To keep her safe, he had to shove that possibility out of the picture.

  “We’re not going to the cops.”

  “What? Why not?”

  He rubbed the knuckle of his thumb between his eyebrows. “What do you think they can do?”

  “Find your brother! Find Jacob and Linda! We can’t do this on our own. We’ve done everything we can. And we have to tell them about Dr. Vigil.” She walked backwards, facing him, and pressed her hands against his chest to stop him as he turned toward the docks.

  He dodged her, her touch, her body, her gaze.

  “Adrian.” She pivoted, scrambling after him on the cracked sidewalk. “Why don’t you want the police involved?” She grabbed at his arm.

  Pain shot through him when her fingers dug into his biceps and he jerked away, sending her off balance. He spun to catch her. As soon as her feet were under her, she ripped free, betrayal etched on her face.

  Self-loathing slammed through him, piercing his own pain. “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m fine.” She waved off his concern. “You don’t have a permit to dive there, do you?”

  “Mallory.”

  “And now our friends are in danger because you can’t bring the police out there without getting in trouble.”

  “Is that what you think?” He stared. “You think that I would put myself over their safety?”

  She set her jaw stubbornly. “If the government finds out you’re excavating without a permit, you can’t excavate here anymore. You’d lose everything you put into this dive.”

  “I already have!” The words burst from him. She flinched from the violence that, damn it, he thought he had under control. “I already have. They’re dead, Mallory. They’re dead. My brother, Jacob, Linda, Robert. There’s no other explanation.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. “They’re not. We looked everywhere. We would have found them. Their bodies would have been there, just like Robert’s.”

  He shook his head. “His body was a message. The others could have been taken to the barge and killed, dropped into the water where they may never be found.”

  “Why? Why would someone do something like that?”

  He stopped to face her. “Do you understand the money involved here? The amount a collector would pay for one box would make my career for a lifetime, fund any dig I wanted to go on forever. All four boxes, you could buy a small country. It makes the money in Robert’s journal look like pocket change.” He started walking. He heard her running behind him but he didn’t look at her. If he did, he couldn’t go through with this.

  “Go home, Mallory. Leave. It’s what you do when things get too hard, isn’t it?”

  “Not anymore.”

  The tightness in her voice made him want to turn, apologize. But her life could depend on him keeping his distance.

  “What is wrong with you?” she demanded, right in his ear.

  He didn’t slow. “I’m going to do this by myself.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Go home to Austin.” He hadn’t thought it would be so hard to shake her. Clearly she’d become more stubborn. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “Adrian.” She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

  He kept going and prayed she wouldn’t follow.

  Then cursed when she didn’t.

  Adrian guided the forty-five-foot yacht out of the harbor, eager to get to the site. The craft was almost more than he could handle on his own, but the lure of spending Smoller’s money had been great, and this boat had features that made managing it alone simple.

  The fact that this one had a queen-sized bed in the stateroom was incidental. He’d be sleeping in it alone. The thought made his heart clench. The one person he loved who was still in his life and he’d pushed her away. No matter his intentions, she didn’t know and wouldn’t forgive him.

  She’d probably gone to the police without him, so he needed to be on the watch for them as well as Smoller. Since everyone was out of the way at the barge, Smoller would make his move soon. Adrian would be there when he did.

  He’d also replaced his dive equipment with Smoller’s money, and while diving alone went against every safety precaution he knew, he had to see wha
t was going on with his site.

  A noise below tightened his nerves and he throttled down, lowered the anchor so he could investigate. Probably something had shifted when he hit the open water, but—

  Mallory stepped out of the galley as he hit the last step out of the pilothouse. His heart slammed against his ribs. Why wasn’t she on the way to Texas, to safety?

  She tucked her arms smugly around herself and tilted her chin up, daring him to throw her overboard, no doubt.

  He shook his head. “I should have known.”

  “Known what?”

  “That you wouldn’t listen. Why won’t you listen?”

  “To your nonsense? Your arrogant ‘I can do this myself’ bullshit? What are you trying to protect me from, Adrian?”

  She’d seen right through him. His surprise must have shown on his face because she barreled on.

  “Yes, I know you were trying to protect me. I’m not an idiot. Is it Valentine? Do you think he’ll try to hurt me?”

  “No. Yes.” He backed up, passed a hand over his hair. “I don’t know. I do know that I couldn’t keep the others safe and I won’t risk you.”

  She braced her hand against the doorway as a swell rolled the boat. “But you’ll let me risk you?”

  He blew out a dismissive breath. “I’m no risk.”

  “Yes you are. I’m not going to lose you again. You can’t do this by yourself, so here I am. I’m not walking away. You can throw me overboard or turn around and take me to the harbor, but even then, you won’t be rid of me that easy. I love you.”

  He couldn’t be hearing her right, and though his brain told him to turn this boat around and dump her on the dock, his heart wanted to sweep her into his arms and never let go. She loved him. “After everything?”

  Stepping forward, she curved her hand over his cheek. “I think it’s time for a new beginning. Let’s leave the past in the past, all right?”

  Stomach churning with joy and fear, he closed his hand over her wrist and smiled down into her eyes. If she meant so much to him, how could he risk her? “Not easy to do. We are archaeologists.”

  “Oh, you pick now to be funny.” She eased closer, her body brushing against his. “On the streets of Belize City you scream at me like a crazy man, but now you want to be funny.”

  He released her wrist to fold both hands around her waist. His blood heated with her nearness, the scent of her, the softness of her. “I’m done being funny for now. I love you, Mal. Kiss me, woman.” Because God knew what lay around the corner.

  With a teasing smile of her own, she stretched up and pressed her mouth to his.

  “I love you,” she said again, dropping back on her heels and releasing him. “Now show me your boat.”

  Apparently spending someone else’s money was easy for him. She was glad he’d bought a good-sized boat, because she never would have been able to stow away on a boat the size of The Mysterious Miss M. All she’d had to do here was slip into the head while he released the boat from the dock.

  Now she moved past the galley, which housed a refrigerator, dishwasher and stove, down into the sleeping quarters, with its queen-sized bed.

  Adrian followed her. “What do you think?”

  “Nice bed.”

  “It is that.” He stepped up into the galley. “With a fridge and stove, we won’t have to eat much more cold Spam. I sent a boy to the market to stock up. I bought new dive gear as well, but I don’t have a suit for you.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She sat on the bed and leaned back on her hands. “I got my own.” She nodded toward the closet where she’d stashed her gear.

  He looked from the closet to her with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged. “I can’t believe you thought you were going to go back and dive alone. You’re not usually stupid, Adrian.”

  “I’m not going back to dive.”

  This time she raised an eyebrow.

  He lifted a hand in concession. “Okay, not just going back to dive. I’m trying to catch Smoller in the act of stealing my site.”

  “So you think he killed Robert and the others, which I don’t believe, by the way.” Though Adrian’s argument about their possible deaths made chilling sense. “You think he’s going to confess to you and let you walk away?”

  “No. I don’t think that.”

  “So what? Why would he kill the professor?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he thought Robert would let me know he was coming. Maybe he thought I’d hurry up and get the box and get out of the way. I don’t know. But I know he’s got a hand in Robert’s death.”

  She sat forward. “You expected him to hurt me. That’s why you chased me away. What do you think will happen now?”

  “Once we’re out on the site, he’ll reveal himself, one way or another. And I have the Belize Defence Force alerted.”

  “You do?” Relief washed through her, though she knew what this cost him. By going to the authorities, he’d lost any chance to come back to Belize to excavate. He’d surrendered his site, his treasure to find his brother. If he’d made that choice, he couldn’t hate her for her confession. “I went to the police and told them about Dr. Vigil.”

  He stared at her a moment, his expression unreadable, his mouth grim, then he nodded. He might be upset but he didn’t hate her.

  At least they weren’t in this alone anymore.

  “Mal.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, his forehead against hers, and he closed his eyes. “My brother is out there. I need to find him. I’ve done all I know how to do. I need your help, all right?”

  As if she could deny him.

  Reaching the barge only took two hours by boat. No one was there and Adrian battled his disappointment that he’d perhaps been wrong, or at least was too soon. He docked and jumped onto the barge before the sound of the engine had faded over the water. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, but the barge’s open design made it easy to inspect. Clearly no one had been here in days.

  He returned to the boat and stepped into the galley where Mallory cheerfully arranged fresh pieces of chicken on the broiler pan. He flashed back to one of the happy memories he had of their house, of walking into the kitchen to see her cooking, the feeling of warmth and belonging, of security, that enveloped him. The same feeling washed over him now, diluting the sadness of the past few days, and he moved closer.

  “I want to dive the place where our boat went down first thing tomorrow.” Adrian needed to make a more thorough inspection, wanted to see if his brother’s body was there, but he couldn’t say it, not when she looked so happy. He shifted his tone to teasing. “Beats the hell out of cooking over a campfire.”

  “A girl could get used to this.” She sprinkled seasoning on the chicken. “I’ve actually become a pretty good cook.”

  He slid his hand beneath her jaw, tilted her head up. God, he couldn’t have managed the past few days without her by his side. And tonight, instead of the cramped tent, they’d have an entire bed.

  As if reading his thoughts, she stepped back. “My hands.” She held them in front of her as she moved to the sink, leaving him bereft. “I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

  Despite the dining area in the living quarters of the boat, they ate under the stars, balancing their plates on their laps like in camp. Using utensils that weren’t plastic was a novelty to Adrian, as was eating something not flavored with campfire smoke. And Mal was right. She could cook and seemed proud of her accomplishment.

  Night after night of this, of this woman, how much better would that be than night after night of campfires and a cold sleeping bag?

  “I was going to come back,” he said.

  She looked up from her plate. “What?”

  “I was going to get this ship raised, and I was going to come back to you. That’s why I didn’t sign the papers.”

  She put her silverware down very carefully. “You were going to come back to Pensacola?” Her voice was guarded.

  “Pensacola, Austin.” He waved
his fork. “Wherever you were.”

  “Adrian—”

  He kept talking, hearing the doubt, the question in her tone. “I had to do this first. I had to end on a bang, but you were with me all the time, in my heart. I named the Miss M for you. Once I was done, I was going to quit and come home to you.”

  “After three years without a word?” She pushed to her feet and walked to the railing, her arms crossed tightly. “Why are you telling me this?”

  He put down his fork and leaned back. “Because I don’t think you believed me when I told you I loved you.”

  She lifted a trembling hand to hold her windblown hair away from her face. “Oh, I believed you. I just—if you loved me—no. It’s an old fight.”

  “If I loved you more than I loved my job.” He came up behind her, stood close but didn’t touch her.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” She turned to him. “I said I love you. I want the past to stay there, all right?” She put her palm on his cheek and rose to kiss him softly, an invitation to take it further.

  So he moved away. “If we don’t fix it, we might break it again.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t think about that now. Everything else hurts too much. I can’t go back there. Please, Adrian, let’s just move forward.”

  If only it was that easy.

  Mallory stood in the stateroom doorway wearing one of his T-shirts, the SCUBA one that proclaimed him a Sex Crazed Underwater Bad Ass. She’d bought it for him years ago. He’d always liked it better on her, the way the thin fabric clung to her curves and just hit the tops of her thighs. God, he loved her legs, long and smooth, loved skimming his hands over them. He sat forward on the bed and beckoned. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and approached, her hips rolling seductively, a playful light in her eyes. Oh, good. He liked that kind of sex. He surged off the bed to stand in front of her.

  Her breath hitched, her eyes flicking to his lips, but she didn’t move away as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her taste was hot and salty, so he dived in, cupping her head in his hands. She leaned into his kiss and slid her tongue over his lower lip. With a groan, he took her calves in his hands, parting her legs for his body, hooking them around his hips. She curled her hands around the back of his head as he scooted her back on the mattress.