Dangerous Waters

by Toni Anderson

  “Who’s that?”

  “Someone who doesn’t like cops.”

  “Names?”

  “Stop fishing, Holly.”

  She lowered her voice. “I’m not fishing. I’m a cop, looking for a killer.”

  “They aren’t your guys.” He took a swig of his beer.

  “What makes you so sure?” She sipped her own drink, but she’d lost her taste for it.

  “Well, for one, I don’t think they can swim, let alone dive.” His eyes flickered, and she spotted the taller of the two men approaching the bar. He stopped behind Finn.

  “Mr. Dryzek would like a moment of your time, Mr. Carver. If you can tear yourself away from your pretty girlfriend.”

  Holly’s brows climbed. Dryzek. She’d heard that name in police circles before.

  She could tell Finn was going to tell the man to get lost, but then he paused and seemed to reconsider. His glance brushed her face. He nodded as if she’d answered a silent question. “Wait for me, baby. This won’t take long.” Then he kissed her on the mouth, hungry and hot.

  CHAPTER 5

  Finn left Holly to choke on her beer while he went over to see Remy Dryzek. The kiss had been a risk. She’d tasted unpredictable and sexy, way too appealing for a guy like him. But hopefully it would keep this asshole thinking she was just a girlfriend enjoying a night out.

  Why he felt the sudden need to protect her, he didn’t know. It was one of his many flaws.

  Dryzek watched him out the corner of his eye. Finn got to the table and stood staring down at the other man. They were about the same age, but Remy was a few inches shorter, more flab than muscle. But the semiautomatic Remy carried gave the man balls he otherwise lacked. Finn ignored Remy’s hand that indicated for him to sit. He wasn’t a dog. He didn’t take orders from Dryzek, and Dryzek knew it.

  They’d come to an understanding two years ago, but now it looked like the truce was over. Finn had the terrible suspicion it was all linked to that damned body in the wreck and wished he’d never set eyes on the damned thing. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  Dryzek’s eyes were narrowed as he picked at the label on his beer. “I seem to have misplaced something that belongs to me.”

  “A conscience? I’m pretty sure sociopaths don’t need one.” Finn bared his teeth in a smile that wouldn’t fool anyone.

  “If I find out you had anything to do with it I’ll be coming to pay you a visit.”

  “Enjoy the fantasy, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He was suddenly aware of Holly standing behind him. Dryzek’s eyes flickered over her the way a lizard watched a fly. Finn half waited for the explosion where she jumped all over the guy for possession of a firearm—easily visible when the guy’s jacket fell open. Instead, she hugged Finn’s arm like a barfly. Laying the bait. He refrained from rolling his eyes.

  Dryzek had already dismissed her. Gordy Ferdinand, Remy’s right-hand man, was smiling at her in a way that made Finn’s skin crawl. They’d both underestimated her. A serious mistake.

  She stroked cool fingers down his arm. “Going to introduce me to your friends, baby?”

  “Yeah, introduce us to your girl, Carver. Want to sit with us, sweet cheeks?” Gordy patted the bare wooden seat beside him. She went to sit, but Finn snagged her wrist.

  “We’re just leaving.” Finn slid his hand lower and their fingers intertwined painfully tight.

  Dryzek shot him a narrow stare. “Remember what I said; otherwise, your pretty lady might not look quite so pretty.”

  He probably wasn’t supposed to laugh. He turned and left, taking Holly with him. No way in hell was he leaving her in O’Malley’s drinking with a creep like Dryzek, even though he didn’t doubt she could take care of herself. But being a cop could work for or against her at any moment. Right now, without her gun or her uniform, he figured it worked against her.

  Once outside she twisted out of his grip. “What was that about, baby?” she demanded.

  “I have no idea. If you want to go back in there and chat up those paragons of virtue, feel free, but they don’t fight fair, and if they find out you’re a cop they won’t hesitate to make you bleed.”

  Her chest heaved. Hell. He tried not to notice, but he was just a flesh-and-blood man whose body was rebelling against a self-imposed celibacy that had lasted way too long.

  “I need answers, Carver. Why did you blow my cover with the locals but not with Dryzek?” She planted her hands on her hips and leaned forward. He got a glimpse of cleavage and it made him sweat.

  How much of what she did was deliberate he didn’t know, but he didn’t appreciate being played any more than Dryzek did.

  He couldn’t afford to want this woman. What he needed was to get rid of her before she stirred up more trouble for Thom or his brother, but he didn’t want her to get hurt. “The locals won’t talk to you no matter how hard you work them.”

  “Interfering with a police investigation is a chargeable offense.”

  Anger burned through his veins. She wasn’t listening to him. “I’m not saying Mike wouldn’t have been willing to go outside into the parking lot and bang you senseless.” He loomed over her, heat pouring in waves off his body. “But he wasn’t about to show you the sights or tell you where the bodies are buried.”

  Her expression suddenly went stark white as blood drained from her cheeks. “I don’t turn tricks to get information.”

  “I never said you did.” He frowned, then figured it out. She thought he was suggesting she was easy because he knew she’d slept with her boss. And though the sharp spur of jealousy that flicked through him was unexpected, that wasn’t what he’d meant. Mike was the easy one. The guy couldn’t sniff a woman without trying to score. But maybe this was what he needed to drive a wedge between them. He liked her too damned much for comfort.

  “Does your team know you’re down here alone?” He started walking back to the marine station’s docks.

  “That has nothing to do with you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Where are you staying? Do you need a ride across the inlet, because the water taxi closed up shop ten minutes ago?”

  A flash of irritation made that lush mouth compress. But he was done hanging around, waiting for her to make a decision. She was a big girl and could make her own choices. He started along the boardwalk that hugged the inlet. The gentle wash of water drifted on the breeze. She was silently tallying the merits of going back into the bar, unarmed, or following him. Thankfully, she chose to follow him.

  “Mr. Dryzek seemed a little bit wary of you, Mr. Carver. Why would that be?”

  She was tenacious, that was for damn sure.

  “Most people are wary of me. Would you have been happier if we were buddies?”

  “I’d have been happier if you hadn’t been there at all.”

  His lips curved despite himself. “Want me to wear a tracking device in the future?”

  She snorted out a laugh. “I’ll see what I can dig up.” The night air was cool, and she drew the edges of her denim jacket tighter together. The stars were bright in the sky, illuminating their path. Frogs croaked in the woods behind them.

  It was only a five-minute walk to the dock. He pointed to the rowboat. “Climb in.” She didn’t hesitate, and he tossed her a life vest, climbed in opposite, and untied the ropes. He pushed off from the side. “If you’re really quiet we might see a whale.”

  “Trying to get me to shut up?”

  She’d actually been pretty silent. He wasn’t sure this was a good thing. “I figured it was worth a shot.”

  A peaceful hush settled over this spectacular part of the world, but he could almost hear thoughts rolling like tumblers inside her mind. The current tugged the oars as they sliced the water, and he concentrated on rowing rather than her. The trip took less than a minute, and Finn helped Holly climb out on the other side. He held onto her fingers for a moment too long, savoring the electricity that flicked over his ski
n whenever they touched.

  She swallowed and pulled her hand away. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Carver.”

  “Finn,” he said.

  “What?” Her eyes crinkled in confusion.

  “Call me Finn. You did earlier.” He didn’t tell her he liked how it sounded on her lips. He wasn’t that pathetic.

  He took a step closer, and her eyes flashed to his. Energy zinged across the distance between them, igniting an awareness and a desire he hadn’t felt in months.

  He reached out and took hold of the fastener of the life vest she wore. Her lips parted, and he slowly lowered the zipper, wishing he didn’t have to stop there. But the barriers between them were thicker than cotton.

  He dropped the vest back into the boat.

  “Want me to walk you back to your hotel?” The memory of that kiss reminded him he was playing with fire. If she ever figured out he wasn’t immune, he was toast.

  “This wasn’t a date, Mr. Carver. I think I can manage.” Her tone aimed for frosty but quavered too much to pull it off. They both looked around at the large wooden structure with the big salmon motif out front.

  He had no doubt she could manage. “Sleep well, Sergeant Rudd.”

  She had to be dog-tired from her long day, and yet there was something in her eyes that told him she wouldn’t be getting sleep anytime soon. Not his problem. He pushed off from the dock and started rowing back across the inlet. He wanted her gone. He wanted the cops far from here and far from the people he cared about. And if he felt a little pang at the thought of never seeing Holly Rudd again, he ignored it. At least he wouldn’t have to lie to her anymore.

  Holly handed Jeff a fresh cup of coffee and waited for the next shot of caffeine to kick in. They’d spent the night running background checks on local residents and had turned up quite the colorful collection of misfits, ex-cons, and people searching for a little anonymity. Finn was probably right about them not talking to the cops, but you never knew when one piece of information could leverage another.

  Jimmy Furlong walked in the room, freshly showered and shaved. Corporal Messenger walked in a moment later.

  “Coroner get back to us yet?”

  Holly checked her watch. “I doubt he’s even started the post yet.” It was only seven o’clock. She and Jeff had been up all night.

  “What have you got?” Furlong asked.

  “Jeff finished entering witness statements. I’ve been running names to see what might pop up.”

  “Anything more on the guys who found the body?” Without an ID on the victim, Carver and Edgefield were still the most viable lines of inquiry.

  “A lot of stuff on both of them.” The others filtered in. She snagged a muffin out of the box Freddy Chastain carried. “Edgefield started coming out here in 1978 to conduct fieldwork for his PhD. He got a job in Edmonton but still came out every summer to teach courses for the university and do his research. His wife, Bianca, was murdered in 1982, along with their infant son. The body of his young daughter was never found, but they did find her jacket. The assumption was her body was dragged off by a wild animal.” Chastain grimaced as he bit into his second muffin. “Ever since, he’s been on a crusade to find the killer.”

  “Was he ever a suspect?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I can tell. He was teaching the day she disappeared. He reported them missing when they weren’t home for dinner that night.”

  She took a sip of coffee. It scorched her mouth. “He pretty much moved out here after that, teaching full-time at the marine lab and making the cops’ lives hell.”

  “He’d just lost his entire family. I can understand him going off the deep end,” Corporal Malone spoke up.

  Holly nodded. “Absolutely.” She was still trying to figure out Malone, to discover where his strengths lay. He was one of those enigmatic silent types who always seemed to think a damn sight more than they spoke—like Finn Carver.

  She checked her notes. “Carver went to live with Edgefield in 1989 after his older brother killed their father.” It had been shocking to read the case files. Photographs had shown a boy severely beaten, with a broken right ulna and radius. Three broken bones in his left hand, where he’d probably tried to ward off the blows, and several fractured ribs. She’d felt an emotional tug on her heartstrings to think about the tall, rugged, capable man she’d met and imagine him as that vulnerable child.

  Nothing about him seemed vulnerable now.

  “This place is a right hotbed of family drama,” said Chastain. “Like The Young and the Restless on speed.”

  “The guy was alcoholic, abusive. He should never have been allowed to raise two boys alone.” Reading those files had felt like an invasion of privacy, and she knew Finn would view it the same way. But this was her job.

  “What happened to the mother?” asked Furlong.

  “Finn—Carver—said she ran off when he was a toddler. I’m trying to trace her now.”

  “And now these two guys who seem to be surrounded by a constant stream of victims suddenly find another one?” Her boss didn’t look convinced.

  “There’s more.” She felt a little odd discussing this. She’d gotten personal with a suspect even though she hadn’t gone near any lines, let alone crossed them. Well, except for that kiss, which had caught her completely off guard and nearly knocked her off her stool. But that had been for effect, not pleasure. “Carver joined the army at eighteen and spent six years in JTF2.” Canadian Special Forces. “He left unexpectedly a couple of years ago. Didn’t give a reason, but it was around the same time a police report stated that Thomas Edgefield was in the hospital and almost died. He was severely beaten and lost a kidney. They never caught the attacker.” She didn’t mention what she’d witnessed in the bar last night. She didn’t want to admit she’d gone there alone without proper backup.

  Furlong checked his enormous watch. “I’m going to take a crack at them before I go.” He looked excited, like a little kid who’d been promised candy.

  Holly climbed to her feet. She wasn’t worried about Finn, but if Furlong handled Edgefield wrong, they’d never get another ounce of cooperation out of him. The guy would end up in an asylum.

  “You stay here, Rudd. I’ll take Corporal Messenger to give her some experience.”

  “Corporal Messenger is welcome to tag along, sir, but as primary, I insist on being there too.”

  There was momentary silence.

  Jimmy Furlong had a reputation for not being pushed, but a murder investigation was conducted by a group for a reason—to stop tunnel vision and make sure the information was properly disseminated. After a long moment, he nodded, and she had to wonder if it was because of her father or because it was the right choice.

  Regardless, she wasn’t being left out of the loop.

  They strode down to the dock, and Furlong commandeered the local water taxi to ferry them straight across the inlet. “Who the hell builds a town with the sea splitting it down the middle with no bridge or road access?” he complained to no one in particular.

  The guy driving the taxi said nothing. Holly had noticed the locals growing more and more taciturn. Maybe everyone who lived here hid a secret. It would make investigations difficult if not impossible, if they remained so closemouthed. Unless they could crack someone into a confession.

  On the other side of the inlet Furlong hurried off with Messenger in tow while Holly paid the fare. “Thanks.” She smiled.

  She looked up and there was Finn Carver leaning against the dive shed doorway, wearing a dry suit stripped to the waist and watching her closely. The sight of that muscled chest stirred things Holly wasn’t prepared to deal with. There was something about him that appealed, not just good looks, but the way he handled himself. She wasn’t one to bend the rules. Being off limits should have been enough to drown the little yearning noises her body was making. But instead, they were getting louder. Given that her last mistake was already stalking her career, she couldn’t afford another one. She jogg
ed up the steep gravel path to catch Furlong. He was rattling the front doors of the marine lab, but they were locked.

  “Edgefield lives in a house just down that path.” She pointed down a trail that ran beside the marine lab.

  Furlong was pissed but trying hard not to show it. He strode off, making Messenger trot to keep up. Holly pinched her lips tight. She was allowed an opinion, but obviously she wasn’t allowed to openly argue with the team commander. She should have known better.

  One more hour and he’d be gone. Hold that thought. It couldn’t be soon enough.

  The three of them trekked along the path, down some stone steps to a low, modern-looking building. Furlong pounded on the door, and after a few moments, a weary-looking Edgefield emerged in a pair of blue-striped pajamas. His eyes were instantly drawn to her even though Furlong was the one talking to him.

  “Thomas Edgefield?”

  Thomas rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and tilted his head to meet Furlong’s purposeful stare. “What can I do for you?”

  “We have some more questions for you.”

  Edgefield laughed self-consciously. “It can’t wait until I’m dressed?”

  “It’ll only take a moment.” Furlong brushed him aside and entered his home without being invited. Edgefield looked at her and Corporal Messenger. “You’re like buses. Wait a lifetime for one and then three show up at once.”

  Corporal Messenger gave him a sweet smile. Holly kept her expression neutral. Furlong was on the warpath; she was going to have to watch her step.

  “You know Sergeant Rudd.” Furlong stood impatiently in the hallway, ignoring the man’s outstretched hand. “This is Corporal Messenger, and I’m Staff Sergeant Furlong. I’m in charge of this investigation.”

  Edgefield shot a look at Holly, which she ignored. He nodded politely, his shoulders gaining that slightly hunched appearance, his hair sticking out at Einsteinian angles. They followed him into the front room, which had huge floor-to-ceiling windows with an incredible view of the Broken Islands all the way across to Ucluelet.