“They?”
“Oh, yeah.” A flash of what Laney would call a leer went across his face. “Mind you, I wouldn’t be comin’ ashore, either, if I had that pretty little blonde aboard.”
“I prefer brunettes, myself,” Teague said.
Laney reminded herself he was playing a part here, but the words warmed her nevertheless.
“I can see why,” the older man said appreciatively. Laney resisted the urge to point out she was standing right here.
“So they didn’t say they’d be staying so long? When they got here and came ashore?”
“Oh, she never did. I just catch a glimpse now and then. She doesn’t come out much, either.”
“Seems odd, the nice weather and all,” Laney said, speaking for the first time.
“Well, they’re on their honeymoon, you know. Other things on their mind.”
“Honeymoon?” Laney tried to keep her tone even. At least he hadn’t leered again.
“Yeah. Newlyweds. You know how they are, like to keep to themselves.” He glanced out toward the moorings. “Not much of a boat, it’s true, but I suppose it’s the thought that counts.”
There was no way this was true, Laney thought. Even if Amber for some reason had stopped communicating with everyone she cared about, she would never, ever do something as momentous as get married without telling her or her own parents.
“So, you want to put your name on that list?”
“I’d like to look around a bit first. Afloat. You got something I could borrow or rent? Like one of those?”
He gestured at a rack just outside the door of the office where several kayaks were stowed. The man frowned. “Those are privately owned. But my son and his wife keep theirs here, I guess you could borrow them. Not too long,” he warned, clearly uncertain.
“It won’t be. And I’ll be happy to rent. You might as well get something out of it.”
Teague pulled out his wallet and handed the man a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. Laney thought that was a bit much, but it certainly mollified the old man’s concerns. He even helped them remove the long, narrow craft from the racks before a ringing phone called him back inside.
“I assume you know what you’re doing with one of these?” Laney said.
He glanced at the placid water of the cove. “Enough for this, yes. It’s only a reconnaissance run.”
“No white-water kayaking on your list of life experiences?” she asked as she hefted the second kayak, which was slightly shorter and therefore she guessed lighter than the flatter, wider one Teague had still easily picked up. She’d seen people fishing off kayaks like that.
“No,” he answered. “Thought about it. Seems like a fun ride.”
“It is. Makes this seem pretty tame.”
He paused in gathering the double-ended paddles to glance at her. “You’ve done it?”
“A little. Enough to know I could get addicted and I don’t have time right now.”
“Maybe someday we could—” He stopped. He looked down, back at her face, then started to speak again and stopped again.
“What?”
Suddenly he was all brisk business. “I’ll take the fishing kayak. It’s more stable if I have to make a quick move. Keep your phone handy, you may have to call Quinn if something goes haywire while I’m out there.”
“Wait a minute,” Laney protested. “I’m going with you.”
“You need to stay here—”
“I’m perfectly capable of kayaking less than a hundred yards in calm water.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
“Besides, you might need help. If he’s really abducted Amber, he’s dangerous.”
He gave her a steady look that told her to him, that was all the more reason she should stay behind. But instead he said merely, “I need you here to call Quinn if anything happens.”
“Teague, if he’s a kidnapper, he could be armed.”
“That’s all right. So am I.”
For a second she just gaped at him. She should have paid more attention to what he’d taken out of that go bag of his.
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on using it. Hopefully I won’t need to.”
“But if you do, I should—”
“I get it, Laney. We’re so close to resolving this, I understand you’re anxious. But you have to stay here.”
She bristled at that, despite the fact that it made simple sense. He was trained to handle such things, she was not. She wasn’t sure quite why this was getting to her so much. This was what Foxworth did; she should just let them do it. Besides, he was just going to check things out.
“So I’m supposed to just sit here on the sidelines? That’s my best friend out there.”
“I know that. But I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What?”
“Edward would recognize you. He’d know something was up.”
Laney drew back. In the heat of the moment, the excitement of actually finding Amber, she had forgotten that.
“Let me check things out. Then we’ll decide.”
She wondered if the “we” was just to placate her. She didn’t think so. And she knew he was right. It only made sense that he be the one to make the approach.
It wasn’t until he lowered the kayak into the water and began to paddle away that the cold clutch of worry that tightened her chest made her realize the other reason she’d reacted so strongly. A kidnapper was dangerous, and Edward could indeed be armed.
She was as worried about Teague as she was about Amber.
And suddenly it was white-water kayaking that seemed tame compared to what she’d let herself in for now.
* * *
It had been a while, but Teague got into the rhythm of the double-ended paddling and the smooth glide of the tiny craft fairly easily. He made a show of inspecting the docks first, pausing to look around, and checking out the other boats and the slips. He was just a guy checking out a marina to see if he liked what he saw, that was all.
A guy with a not-too-happy woman back on the dock, he thought wryly. Funny how none of the reasons to stay behind that dealt with her own safety had convinced her, but the one that might endanger Amber had. It said a lot about her. Not that he hadn’t known those things already.
He had to fight back a rising tide of heat as memories from last night threatened to swamp him. He’d never known anything like what had happened between them. When he’d been with women before, it had been pleasurable, but they’d always parted without much drama on either side. Sometimes it felt like he either really liked a woman or was physically attracted to her, but never both at the same time.
Until now.
It may have been foolish, maybe unethical, but he wouldn’t trade it now for anything. And if Quinn found out, if he got mad at him over it, well, it was still worth it.
And he needed to get his head back into what he was doing. He couldn’t let hot, persistent memories distract him, or let the quiet peace of this wooded cove lull him into thinking this couldn’t go south on him at any moment.
He headed farther out toward the moorings. He went slowly past the sailboat, scrutinizing it long enough to justify equal curiosity about the powerboat several yards away.
He went slower as he got close to the bow of the power boat.
It was in even worse shape up close than it had looked from a distance. The fiberglass was dulled and scratched and dinged in many places. The wood was indeed weathered and in some spots visibly rotting. Even the mooring lines were worn, salt-encrusted and fraying in spots. And he’d tied off on the mooring buoy with a clumsy, ill-advised square knot, and every shift in wind and current had likely pulled it tighter. The guy was no sailor, that was for sure.
And unless the inside was in marked
ly better shape than the outside, he couldn’t imagine any woman, let alone one like Amber, putting up with this willingly for a guy she’d just met.
The small porthole-type windows on the side were closed. What looked like a blanket or fabric of some kind was blocking any view, out or in.
He heard nothing from inside.
He reached the back of the vessel, moving as slowly as he thought he could get away with. As he came alongside the cockpit, he gave it a quick look-over as best he could from the low vantage point of the kayak. The hatch into the main cabin was closed. A fishing pole lay dangling over the side, a knotted tangle of line showing the probable reason for its abandonment.
He eased past until he could see the transom. The first thing he noticed was the blackened pattern where dirty exhaust had exited an engine obviously in no better shape than the rest of the boat.
Breezin’ Through was the name painted across the stern. And below that was the name of its home port, a small place Teague had been through once on his way to somewhere else. A broken ladder leading up into the cockpit hung crookedly, half-submerged, above a swim step.
Aware of the time passing, Teague kept going, maintaining the look of someone just checking things out. He paddled out to the entrance of the cove, made sure there were no surprises Quinn would need to know about, then turned to start back.
There was a man standing in the cockpit of the cruiser.
From here it appeared he was merely stretching. But he was facing this way, so Teague assumed he was eyeing him and kept paddling, all the while keeping his eyes on the shirtless man, glad of the sunglasses that hid the direction of his gaze. As he neared, the man didn’t try to hide that he was watching him.
Soft, Teague thought as he got close enough to tell. Bit of a belly. Big, though. Enough that a woman wouldn’t be able to fight him off. Dark hair, longish, to him at least. Pale skin, but that was normal up here in the land of much rain. So, captor, or new lover? His gut was saying the former, but he had no proof.
Nothing more than the same kind of gut feeling that had told Laney there was something wrong.
He paddled closer. Put a smile on his face. Just a guy out on a nice, sunny day, getting what he can before the weather turned.
His smile faltered. He paddled a little closer, to make sure, but he already knew.
All their assumptions had just been blasted out of the water he was floating on. The man in the cockpit wasn’t Edward Page.
Chapter 29
“Morning,” Teague called out as he neared the back of the moored boat. For a moment he thought the man wasn’t going to respond, but he finally gave a short nod. “Nice place,” he added.
For that he got a one-shouldered shrug. He dragged the paddle to slow to a stop. He’d had to do a swift reassessment of the entire situation, and had to do it with absolutely no data on this new element. He had no idea who this man was, other than not the man they’d expected. But he couldn’t pass up the chance to do a little poking now that he was out here.
“Thinking about moving my boat out here.”
He jerked a thumb toward the marina where a few more people had arrived and were heading toward boats in various places. All the while Teague’s eyes never stopped moving. The back door from the main cabin was again closed. Who did that, if you were just stepping outside? Unless, of course, there was someone else aboard you didn’t also want stepping outside.
“You like it? Or is it too remote?”
The man looked at him, suspicion sharp in muddy brown eyes. “Not remote enough,” he finally said.
Teague could almost hear the “Since you’re here bothering me” he was sure the man was thinking.
“What if you needed a repair or something? Doesn’t look like there’s much around here,” he said, pressing on as if he were truly that casual kayaker and oblivious to the real situation. And the man’s mood.
Of course, looking at this man who so obviously wasn’t the man in the picture he had memorized, now he wasn’t exactly sure what the real situation was. Other than down here, seated in a craft that somewhat limited his mobility, he was vulnerable. He preferred the high ground and room to maneuver, but sometimes you took what the conditions gave you.
“Good luck,” the man finally said gruffly. But he sounded more irritated now, less suspicious.
“Yeah, I figured. Probably better over in Harborside,” he said, his gaze fastened intently on the man’s face now. He saw the slight furrowing of his brow, the narrowing of his eyes, even though the expression lasted only a split second.
“Maybe,” he answered after that moment’s hesitation.
“I thought about there, too, but I’m not sure I want to dodge that ferry all the time. It must get annoying. Bet you have to have their schedule memorized, right?”
“No.” Then, shifting his feet restlessly, the man added, “It’s not a problem.”
Teague nodded like a guy who’d just been reassured. But in fact he’d just been given an interesting fact. He decided to probe a bit more. With a silent salute to Cutter, he said, “But I worry about the Coast Guard outpost there, too. They hassle you much?”
Teague knew he wasn’t imagining the sudden new spike of suspicion in the man’s eyes at the mention of the armed military unit. “No.”
“Glad to hear that. Guess they have bigger fish to fry.” He grinned. “Those chase boats they have there are cool, though.”
“If you like that kind of thing,” the man said. “Now if you don’t mind, I have bigger fish to fry, as you put it.”
The signal that the conversation, one-sided as it had been, was over couldn’t have been clearer. And yet he didn’t turn away and go back inside, putting a final end to it. Instead he stood there, waiting.
For me to realize I’ve been dismissed and leave? Teague thought. To be sure I really go?
And to make sure I don’t see anything when he opens the door to go back inside?
Teague was tempted to say something about what the harbormaster had told him, about the pretty blonde he had stashed aboard. But he didn’t want to scare the guy into doing anything, maybe hurting Amber any more than he already had.
His phone pinged the arrival of a text message.
“Damn,” he said with a grimace. “Wife can’t leave me alone for five minutes, I swear.”
The man on the boat snickered. Apparently the image of harassed husband tipped him solidly in the harmless category. Which told him a little bit more about the man himself. He checked the screen, saw the message from Quinn that he was at the warehouse with the chopper and would be lifting off shortly. Acknowledged it with a quickly typed “Roger.”
And took advantage of having the phone out to snap a couple of surreptitious photos of man and boat, including the registration number, which he immediately sent to Ty. He didn’t dare try to send a second message of explanation right in front of the guy, but Ty would understand there would only be one reason he’d send images in the middle of a case. He’d be tracking the guy down the moment they arrived.
“Thanks for the info,” Teague said, stuffing the phone back in his pocket and trying to look like that harassed husband. “I’d better get back to the wife, or my life will turn to misery. Enjoy the nice weather while it’s still here.”
He paddled off, aware every moment that he was presenting his back to the man, offering a choice target. But while suspicious, he hadn’t seemed scared or worried. Especially after the wife jokes. Teague doubted he’d take a shot at him out in the open, especially now that there were more witnesses around. If he was even armed at all.
Teague wasn’t sure about that, but he was now sure of some other things. The guy was wary. Cautious. And although he could be just a guy wanting to keep his gorgeous new girlfriend all to himself, he could also be keeping an unwilling woman locked awa
y. And while he himself was no judge, he didn’t look like the type a woman would drop everything and run off with. Laney had said Amber liked a man who took care of himself, and this guy looked like he’d been down on his luck about as long as that boat had been.
And that was the big thing he’d learned, he thought as he paddled past the sailboat and headed back toward the docks. As soon as he got out of sight he was going to call Foxworth and have them start checking for stolen boats from Harborside. Because this guy didn’t have a clue. There was no ferry out of that small place, nor was there a Coast Guard station.
So at best, he was a liar. At worst, he was a kidnapper, probably rapist, and who knew what else. And Laney’s best friend was trapped with him.
His jaw set, he angled the kayak to head back the way he’d come along the first dock near the office. He could see Laney now, pacing near the gangway. For a moment he just watched her. The way she moved, that fluid strength coupled with a very womanly grace, warmed him even at this distance. He remembered those long, lithe legs wrapped around him, remembered the feel of her body against his, around his, demanding and offering, taking and giving, surrounding him, driving him to an explosive place he’d never been before.
His body cramped with need, and he wondered where the hell all his vaunted discipline had gone to. He never allowed himself to be so distracted on a case.
But then, he’d never run into anyone like Laney, on a case or anywhere else, before.
He tried to shake it off, to rein in his unruly body. Focus, he demanded silently. And quit wondering how it would feel if she really was the fictional wife he’d just concocted. He could think of worse things. A lot worse.
Uh-oh.
That alarm sounded in the back of his mind again. And he was going to listen, he told himself. Otherwise he might as well just keep paddling this damned kayak off the edge of the world.
She was holding something as she paced, he belatedly realized. Maybe his scope. She probably had been watching the exchange. Which meant she knew it wasn’t Edward. That would save him explaining that, anyway.
Operation Blind Date Page 20