Laney got there just as he grabbed the second, heavier go bag, his equipment bag. He had the minimums in both bags, clothes and food, but specialized stuff was in this one. Including his goal: the high-powered spotting scope. He unzipped the largest side compartment.
Pulling it out, he uncapped the ends as he walked back to the front of the SUV. Laney had realized what he was doing now and came to join him. He liked that she didn’t ask a million questions, but waited and watched. It made her easy to be with. Everything about her made her easy to be with.
What happened between them when they touched made it hard to think about being without her.
The thought rattled him. He wasn’t ready for thinking that way. He didn’t look at her as she stood beside him. And it wasn’t, he told himself firmly, because he didn’t dare.
He leaned forward to use the hood as a platform, put his elbows on the sun-warmed metal and brought the scope up to his right eye. It was a matter of seconds to get it focused on the marina. He scanned that first. It was quiet on this weekday morning. Early-morning anglers already out and at it, pleasure boaters apparently not yet ready to cast off. There did appear to be a light on in the small building at the head of the first dock, so somebody was around.
He shifted, focused on the first boat on a mooring, a sailboat that, he gathered from the model designation on the side, was a twenty-seven-footer. The sails were furled, covered with bright blue canvas, and there was no sign of anyone aboard. He shifted to the second boat, a low-slung, racy-looking cabin cruiser that was a bit smaller than the sailboat, not quite the size people tended to call a yacht.
But the style and function wasn’t the only difference in the two boats. The sailboat was clean, well-maintained. The lines on deck were neatly coiled, there was nothing out of place or strewn about, the wood he could see was shiny with fresh varnish, well protected. Shipshape, he thought.
The cruiser by contrast was battered, the wood dull and open to the elements, a ding in the fiberglass hull near the bow sloppily patched over. The canvas cover over the rear cockpit area was faded and worn. Unless it was a sleeper, like Rafe’s battered car, a boring-looking sedan that nevertheless purred like a big cat and could run like one, too, he’d guess the engine was in no better shape.
There was a small dinghy that looked in no better shape than the boat, strapped rather haphazardly to the roof of the cabin. Did that mean the owner was still aboard? Or did this marina, even though small, have a water taxi of sorts to transport people from the offshore moorings? He would tend to doubt it, given the small size, but couldn’t discount the possibility. He was shifting the scope back to the marina to check when a movement caught his eye. He moved it back, refocusing on the cruiser.
Someone had come out of the cabin, into the cockpit. A woman.
A blonde woman.
He handed the scope to Laney. “Look. The powerboat.”
She looked at him first, and he kept his expression neutral. She put the scope to her eye and looked. His answer came in her first, heartfelt exclamation.
“Amber!”
Chapter 27
The relief that flooded her left her almost shaky.
Amber was alive.
She looked away to glance at Teague.
“It’s her?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure? The scope’s good, but it’s still kind of far.”
“It’s her.”
She put her eye back to the scope, afraid somehow Amber would have disappeared in those three seconds. But she was there, looking rather bedraggled for the usually put-together Amber. Her hair looked tangled, windblown, the pink shorts and cropped top she wore wrinkled in a way Amber would never have permitted normally.
But she was there. Alive. And willing?
Had all this really been for nothing? Was Amber truly on some romantic getaway?
Embarrassment flooded her. She lowered the scope, not knowing what to say. All the time and effort Teague and the rest of Foxworth had put into this, and here Amber was, perfectly alive and kicking.
“I feel so stupid,” she said.
“Don’t.”
“But I was obviously so wrong.”
“You weren’t.”
“But she’s here, and apparently fine.”
“Everything you told us is true,” he said. “It just happened that the innocent explanation may have been true.”
She looked up then, meeting his gaze for the first time.
“May have been?”
“We’re going to make sure she’s here voluntarily.”
She couldn’t make herself believe it. But she was also honest enough to admit the embarrassment could be part of that. And Teague’s insistence this was not yet over helped ease that.
Besides, why on earth would the water-hating Amber be out on a boat? Especially one that didn’t look particularly seaworthy?
She turned back and lifted the scope once more.
Amber had walked to the back of the boat and now stood staring down at the water. Something about the way she was standing, the way her shoulders were slumped and her head was down, made Laney doubt her own doubts.
“She’s not happy,” she said.
“Maybe this didn’t work out like she thought it would,” Teague said.
“It’s more than that.” Still peering through the scope, Laney watched as Amber lifted her head. “She’s crying.”
Teague didn’t say anything, and she supposed that even without the scope he could have seen Amber wiping at her eyes.
“You said she hates the water.”
“Yes. That’s why this boat thing is so weird.”
“Can she swim?”
“Not well.” She lowered the scope to stare at him. “You think she’s considering trying to swim to shore?”
“Or maybe regretting she can’t swim well enough to try.”
Laney looked back, assessing the distance from the boat to the nearest dock. She shook her head. “She’d never try it. The water’s too cold, she knows that. We grew up hearing how a person can only last a few minutes in the sound. And she really can’t swim well at all.”
Someone appeared at the head of one of the docks and began to make her way down the gangway to the boat slips. Amber seemed to see her, too, because she turned quickly and began to wave rather frantically. Laney thought she heard Amber’s voice even from here, in that way sound carried farther across the water. It seemed the woman coming down the dock saw or heard, because she waved back as if Amber had been merely sending an ordinary greeting. Then she climbed aboard a boat just three slips from the head of the dock and quickly disappeared inside.
And Amber froze.
Laney put the scope back to her eye. Amber’s head turned until she was staring back toward the cabin, and this time there was no doubting it. Certainty flooded back. She hadn’t been wrong.
“Teague, she’s scared.”
“Laney, from this distance—”
“I know her like a sister. She’s scared.”
And then Amber slowly, with obvious reluctance, walked back toward the cabin of the cruiser. She disappeared inside, leaving Laney staring at an empty cockpit.
Teague had his phone in his hand, was already dialing.
“Quinn?” he said after a moment. Then, “I’m putting you on speaker. I’m with Laney, out at a small marina on the Olympic Peninsula. We found Amber.”
“Alive?” Quinn’s voice came through with remarkable clarity. They might be in a rather remote spot, but there had to be a cell tower somewhere close. Or Foxworth had some kind of technology no one else did, which seemed to her equally possible.
“Yes,” Teague answered. “But there’s definitely something wrong.”
Laney felt
an entirely different kind of warming as Teague accepted without question suspicions based on her gut feelings and her knowledge of her best friend. He’d never made her feel as if she were being silly, even if he’d doubted some of her interpretations.
Teague quickly explained what Laney had remembered, where it had led them and what they’d seen so far, including a reiteration of Amber’s fear of the water.
“Any signs of injuries?”
Laney hadn’t thought of that, and her stomach clenched.
“Not from here,” Teague said. “We’re on the opposite side of the cove, and my scope was enough to make sure it’s her. And for Laney to say she’s scared.”
“Laney,” Quinn asked, “you’re sure it’s more than just her fear of boats and the water?”
“I think so,” she said. “But since she has that fear, I’ve never really seen her on a small boat before.”
“Teague? Options?”
“I think some closer recon is in order.”
“Agreed. And in the interest of maintaining good relations, I’ll notify authorities.”
“We’re out here a ways,” Teague said. “Their response time may not be the best.”
“And you’re in a different county, so there’ll be some time spent bringing them up to speed. I’ll see if Dunbar can help, he might know someone over there.”
“And in the meantime?”
“Give me the details of the location.”
Laney listened as Teague rattled off a description of where they were in terms that were oddly technical, including wind conditions, the shape of the cove, estimating the width of the entrance at the widest part, and how far in the target was located. For a moment she felt absurdly ignorant. She would have given him generalities like where it was, the trees, maybe how big it was, but nothing like the detailed report Teague had rattled off.
“Copy. Turn on your GPS when you’re in position,” Quinn said.
“Roger that.”
And just like that the conversation was over, no goodbyes, just two men who knew what they were doing, even if she had no clue.
Teague saw her looking at him as he put the phone away, and she must have looked perplexed because he said, “He’s on his way.”
“He is?” What hadn’t been in that recitation of details were any driving directions. It hit her then. “The helicopter?”
Teague grinned. “Quinn’s not one to pass up a chance to fly. Besides, he talked Charlie into buying it, so he figures he has to log enough hours to make it seem useful.”
Something was different about him, Laney thought. He was...energized. Amped or something. She’d thought perhaps he’d decided to come here just to make her feel as if she were doing something, but even if that were true, it wasn’t now. They’d actually found Amber.
And now he was in, what? Action mode?
That fit, she thought as they got back in the car and continued down the road that curved around the top of the cove. Things had changed, dramatically, and so had he. They were no longer looking, they’d found, and now he had a specific objective rather than a general goal.
“Now what?”
“A closer assessment,” he said.
“How?”
“Not sure yet. I want to check out the marina close-up, see what’s there and available.”
The parking area for the marina was fairly small, and Laney guessed they gambled on the probability that not everyone who had a boat here would all show up at once. Although some bright, high-summer weekend days it seemed as if every boat on Puget Sound must be out at once.
Teague picked a spot and backed in. He did that often, she’d noticed. As if he wanted to be ready to roll at a moment’s notice, and even backing out and turning around took too much time. A small thing, but different than most people.
Once parked, he opened the center console between them and flipped a switch on a small, rather odd-looking box fastened to the inside. A light came on, a bright blue LED, blinking first, then glowing steadily.
“GPS,” he said when he saw her glance.
“Oh.” There was that feeling again. “I thought he meant the GPS on your phone.”
“No. This is Foxworth. Liam and Tyler put their heads together and developed this. Signal’s scrambled, unless you’ve got one of our trackers.”
“I’m surprised Foxworth doesn’t have its own satellite,” she said dryly.
Teague’s head snapped up. That had startled him, for some reason. “Charlie jokes about doing that all the time, despite all the hoops we’d have to jump through. Mainly to get a rise out of Quinn, I think.”
“He’s not for it?”
“He doesn’t want to get to relying on something we don’t control.” Teague grimaced. “He doesn’t trust the people who do.”
“Not surprising, given his history.” She contemplated him for a moment before adding, “Or yours, I’m guessing.”
He met her gaze then. She saw the hesitation there, his natural reticence about talking about his history, warring with...with what? The new intimacy between them? Was he afraid she would demand to know everything about him, thinking she now had the right?
Did she? Had last night, even as amazing as it had been, given her the right to know everything he thought and felt? She didn’t know. It was all too new, too powerful, and she didn’t want to mess things up by pushing for something he might eventually offer on his own.
“What do we do now?” she asked, letting it go.
She thought she saw a flicker of relief cross his face. “Look around. We’re just looking for a place to park our boat, if anybody asks.”
She liked the sound of that “we” and “our” enough that it made her edgy.
“What kind of boat?” she asked, trying to shake off the feeling; this was obviously just some sort of cover, and meant nothing more, and she’d better remember that. She was already in deep enough. “In case anybody asks.”
“Just like that one,” he said, nodding toward the boat on the mooring.
That made sense, she thought. Opened a door for discussion of said boat, in case anyone knew anything.
“Only ours is in better shape,” he added.
She laughed. It felt odd, a little giddy even. Not surprising, she supposed. Not only had she had the most amazing night of her life, with the most amazing man she’d ever met, they’d done it. They themselves had found Amber. Here, now.
Now the only question was, was she really in trouble, or not? Was she going to welcome their arrival, or be embarrassed? At this moment, Laney didn’t care. She wasn’t going to apologize for worrying about her best friend.
Especially since it had brought Teague into her life. The man who’d all along promised they’d find her.
And he’d kept that promise.
“We’re not going to just ask?” she said as they walked toward the small building at the head of the first dock.
“Not yet,” he said. “If she’s that scared, there is something wrong and no sense in warning anyone why we’re here.”
The giddiness faded. Seeing Amber alive had been such a relief she’d put the rest out of her mind for a moment. But she couldn’t deny what she’d seen, Amber had been frightened, and by more than just being on a small boat on the water she was afraid of.
She felt Teague’s hand on her arm, warm, strong, comforting.
“We won’t leave here until we’re sure she’s okay.”
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, seeing the steadiness in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“It’s what we do,” he said.
“But you’re the one who listened to me from the beginning.”
“I think,” he said with a crooked grin, “that was Cutter.”
She laughed; she couldn’t help it.
“That’s my girl,” he said, linking her arm through his as they kept walking.
It might have been part of the facade, might have only been to put a smile on her face, as befitted a happy, boat-owning couple out on a lovely day, but she didn’t care. It felt good, after last night she felt amazing, and she was happy just to be with this man. All seemed right with her world at this moment.
And they’d found Amber.
Chapter 28
“Got a waiting list,” the man in the baseball cap said, sounding rather proud.
Teague smiled. “Good for you,” he said. “Popular place.”
He hadn’t had to ask when they’d walked into the small office. Laney had immediately whispered, “That’s the hat!”
“Yep, folks had their doubts, we’re such a small place, but it’s paying off.”
“Always good to hear. What’s your turnaround time on that list?”
“Depends. Some folks, they pull their boats out for the winter, dry storage, you know? If they want to keep their spot, they have to pay for it without using it, so lots just take their chances on getting back in.”
“What about your offshore moorings, in the meantime? Our boat’s about the size of that cruiser.”
“Those are just for transient boats,” the man said.
“So those two haven’t been there long?”
The man pulled off the cap Laney had recognized, and Teague caught a glimpse of the embroidered name she’d remembered, exactly as she’d described it. He ran a hand through gray hair before settling the cap back on his head.
“Sailboat just pulled in yesterday. Other guy’s been here a few days now. Gonna have to up his rate he stays much longer.”
“You have a water taxi, or he have to make his own way ashore?”
“Not yet. Trying to talk the owners into that, but they say most folks have their own dinghy or runabout, if they need it. Like those two vessels have their own. Not that the guy on the cruiser’s been onshore once after the day they got here.”
Operation Blind Date Page 19