Caught in the Surf

by Mark Stone

  "Right, I answered. "Daniel said Tanya was standing with a gray haired young woman on the pier a few hours ago."

  "If that was even Tanya," Cross said, putting the disc into the player. "I know he thinks he's certain about it, but I have my doubts. Like I said, she was taken. There's no way she'd be free to walk around. She'd call her father. I know it in my bones."

  "And maybe you're right," I answered. "But Mikey told me he was with a gray-haired woman that night in the bar. Can that really be a coincidence?"

  "That more than one woman in town has gray hair?" Cross asked. "Seems like a stretch."

  "Maybe," I answered. "But Anchor is searching the pier, and this is the only lead we've got. Besides, it won't take long. I'll already watched a lot of this tape. The only parts we need to focus on are what Jack and I fast forwarded through on the first go 'round."

  "Alright," she said, pressing play.

  "My father was rich too," I said as she sat back against the table, remembering the way Daniel spoke about him. "Built his whole company from the ground up."

  "My father wasn't rich," Cross said. "He was way too eccentric for that." She chucked, a rare, warm smile passing across her lips. "He spent an entire summer and seven thousand dollars once to find a spoon used by the Spanish Armada."

  "That's..."

  "Insane, I know," she answered. "Doesn't mean I don't miss it."

  "Yeah," I lamented. "My grandfather brought me down here so he could have a living memorial celebration."

  "Like a funeral themed party?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

  "Exactly," I said.

  "Isn't that terribly morbid?" she asked.

  "That's what I've been telling everybody!" I said, throwing my hands out in front of me. "It's like reading your own obituary. Who wants to do tha—”

  "Storm," Cross said, touching my arm to stop me. "Look."

  I looked forward at the screen, where I saw a woman with gray hair in a dark coat, wearing a scarf and huge sunglasses. She was talking to Mikey, her hand on his and moving in a way that tugged at me in a familiar fashion.

  "She's wearing sunglasses indoors," I muttered to myself.

  The gray-haired woman, young and sleek, said something to the bartender. He tilted his head curiously and disappeared into a back room.

  She talked to Mikey, who shook his head hard. He pulled his hand away from her forcefully. Whatever she was telling him, it wasn't making him happy. She didn't move though. She didn't react at all. She was a cool customer.

  The bartender came back into view with a clear box in hand, filled with something I couldn't make out yet.

  He poured her a gin and tonic and then opened the box. He pulled a strawberry from it, cut the top of it off, and then plopped the green section into the drink.

  My heart stopped.

  "What the hell?" Cross balked. "Who would do that?"

  "I know," I answered breathlessly, looking at the woman on the screen again. Suddenly, I recognized everything about her; her hair, her skin, the way she moved. I knew this woman. God help me. God help us all. "I know who drinks that."

  "You know that woman? Who is she?" Cross asked.

  "Her name is Natasha Rayne," I said, swallowing hard. "And, if she's involved in this, then things are so much worse than I thought."

  Chapter 19

  "You're freaking out," Cross said, standing and looking over at me. Ever since I'd realized exactly who we were dealing with, I had started pacing circles around the table in this room. At this rate, I would wear a groove in about an hour or so.

  "Not nearly enough," I muttered, looking at the floor as I walked, my hands pushing their way back and forth through my hair. "If you knew who this woman was, if you had any idea—”

  "Then tell me, Storm," Cross answered sternly, stepping in front of me and grabbing my shoulders so that I was forced to stop short. "Tell me and then I'll know." She cleared her throat. "I'll know, and we can handle it together."

  "You don't handle Natasha Rayne, Kate," I said, deciding to be as informal as she had been earlier. If I was going to do it, now was the time. Lord knows my mind was too frantic and scattered to focus on anything as normal as pleasantries. "She handles you." I shook my head. "And, most of the time, you don't even realize what's happened until she wants you to."

  "You'd be surprised what I've dealt with in my life, Storm," she answered, seemingly unaffected by my forwardness. "And, if you're smart, you won't presume to know what I can and cannot handle." She squeezed my shoulders, staring deep into my eyes. "So please, Dillon. Pull yourself together, and tell me who this woman is and why she has you so rattled."

  "That's the thing," I answered, swallowing hard and trying to calm myself down. "I don't know who she is, Kate. I know who she said she was. I know who she pretended to be, but I don't know who she really is."

  "Well then, why not start with what you do know, as opposed to what you don't?" she asked, her voice calm and steady. "That's usually a good idea."

  "I used to live up in Chicago," I answered, blinking hard. "Cut my teeth on gang violence and organized crime. There was a case once, one that would help me take down one of the most ruthless mob bosses in the city."

  "Alright," Cross said, listening intently.

  "I met a woman in a bar one night," I continued, thinking back to that moment, to the slinky lady who strode up beside me and demanded that I buy her a drink- gin and tonic with the top of a strawberry tossed in for luck- wearing a smile that would have melted any man's defenses, let alone one as lonely and out of place as I was up there.

  I shook my head. "We got along well...very well," I said, almost blushing at the memories it brought up. "Before long, she was with me all the time. She was sleeping in my apartment. I was cooking for her which, if you knew anything about me, you'd know was as weird as hell. We talked about the future. We talked about kids, for Christ's sake." I took another deep breath, batting back the anger that came with diving into a memory I hadn't allowed myself to think about in years. "One day, I went out to pick up a few things I thought I needed for this perfect proposal. I got my grandmother's ring a few days earlier. I left it in my dresser drawer, thinking about how excited Natasha would be when she saw it." I shook my head. "It was the most valuable thing I had. It was a good thing I had it too, because I couldn't have afforded to buy a ring. That town was expensive and I didn't make enough money back then to have much left over."

  "You married this woman?" Cross asked me, her mouth dropping.

  "No," I said quickly. "But I probably would have. If she'd have stayed, I'd have probably given her anything she asked me for. That's how stupid I was back then."

  "Stayed?" Cross asked.

  "When I got home, grinning like a damned fool with the idea of popping the question to her floating around in my head, I found my place empty."

  "You mean she wasn't there anymore?" Cross asked.

  "I mean the place was empty!" I answered. "She took everything. She took everything I owned and cleaned out my bank accounts. Hell, I had even taken a taxi that day, because she said she needed to use my car to run errands. I don't have to tell you how that ended." I shook my head. "Even the ring. Natasha took my grandmother's wedding ring."

  "She fleeced you?" Cross asked, her forehead crinkling with curiosity. "But why? You just told me you were barely scraping by back then. Why would she choose you?"

  "That was exactly the question I was asking myself," I answered. "Then it dawned on me like some horrible damned sunrise." My jaw tightened as I thought about it. "My passwords were locked in the top drawer of my dresser, which was also taken. By the time I figured it out, she had erased all of my intel; intel that found its way into the hands of the people I was investigating." I shook my head. "My entire case was ruined. She took it all. I almost got fired for that. Honestly, I would have deserved it."

  "She played you," Cross said. "Natasha Rayne was working for the mafia." She tightened her grip on my arms even more. "
You think the mob is involved in this?"

  "No," I answered. "I don't know. I did some investigating on her after she vanished, using all the intel at my disposal to figure out who she was or what her real motivations were."

  "What'd you find?" Cross asked, looking to be enthralled in the story I'd woven in front of her.

  "From what I can tell, she's a hired gun, for lack of a better word," I answered. "I found reports of similar occurrences all over the country; a woman with silver hair showing up out of nowhere, integrating herself in the lives of an agent or officer, and then disappearing with important information pertaining to cases. They kept going for years after that, and I did everything I could to try and warn people. But then, about a year and a half ago, they stopped showing up. I thought she had been brought to justice, but I couldn’t find anything about it online. So, I kind of hoped she just stopped. Guess I was just being naive again." I closed my eyes. "I was an idiot and, because I was an idiot, a mob boss was able to continue spreading hate and fear throughout a city that's already seen too much of it."

  "You can't blame yourself," Cross answered, dropping her hands from my arms and nodding at me. "This woman sounds like a menace, like a walking nightmare." She bit her lower lip. "And now she's in Vero Beach. What the hell is she doing here?"

  "I don’t know," I answered. "But I think the more important question is what does Tanya Harris have to do with it?" I sat back down on the table. "I know you think you know her, Cross, but I thought I knew Natasha too, and I lost a car, a laptop, and most of my dignity because of it." I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure she stole my identity to find a five-day Mediterranean cruise."

  "That's not who Tanya is," Cross answered.

  "But she was with her," I answered. "She was standing there, on a pier, with Natasha Rayne in the dead of night."

  "You don't know that," Cross said. "We don't know that was actually Tanya. We don't even know if the gray-haired woman Daniel saw was even this Natasha person."

  "Maybe not," I replied. "But I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the woman in that video is Natasha. She's standing there, talking to Mikey on the night Tanya was taken, on the night he was fingered for that crime. I may not know much about you, Cross, but I know you're too smart to believe that's a coincidence."

  "So, what if it's not?" She asked. "You've already proven you can't find this woman. You searched for years. What makes you think you can find her now?"

  A loud alarm sounded throughout the room.

  "A fire alarm?" I asked, looking to Cross.

  "Maybe it's a mistake," she answered, and moved toward the door. Grabbing it, she found the handle wouldn't turn.

  "Is it locked?" I asked, walking toward her. "From the other side? Is that even possible?"

  "It is if you have the master key," Cross said, twisting the handle futilely. "But Marcus is the only one who should have that, and I don't get why he would lock us in here, especially with a fire alarm blaring."

  "Are you sure this isn't some automatic thing?" I asked, watching her pull at the door to the windowless room. "Maybe, if there's a fire, the door locks automatically."

  "This isn't Chicago, Storm," she answered. "We're not that fancy yet. Besides, what would the point be of a door that locks you inside if the building is on fire?" She shook her head. "No. Someone did this purposely." She looked over at me. "Stand back," she said, pulling out her gun. "I'm going to blow our way out of here."

  "You sure that's the best idea?" I asked. "The idea of discharging a firearm into a door that very well could have someone on the other side of it doesn't sound like very smart to me."

  "How about the idea of burning to death?" she asked, her gun pointed at the handle. "How does that sound to you, Einstein?" She glared over at me, the yelled, "Stand clear of the door! I'm about to open fire!"

  That wasn't much, but it was something.

  "You ready?" She asked.

  "Fine," I muttered.

  Before Cross could fire, the door flung open. I expected to find billowing smoke on the other side. Instead, I found nothing, absolutely nothing. There was no smoke. There didn't seem to be any fire. There wasn't anyone on the other side of the door and, looking out into the floor, there didn't seem to be anyone inside there either.

  "What the hell?" I asked, looking over at Cross.

  "I don't know," she admitted, turning to me, her gun still raised.

  "He can't," a gut wrenchingly familiar voice sounded in the far end of the room.

  My head snapping over, I saw her standing there. Same silver hair, same defense melting eyes, same mischievous and alluring smile.

  After years of looking, years of hating her and wishing she was standing in front of me so I could give her a piece of my mind, Natasha Rayne was right here.

  But what did she want with me this time?

  "What?" Cross asked, looking at her.

  "The question you asked before the alarm sounded," Natasha said. "About how Dillon was going to find me now." She shook her head. "That's the answer, I'm afraid. He can't." She laughed hard. "Don't give him too hard of a time, sweetheart," she said, grinning in Cross's direction. "You couldn't have found me either, not unless I wanted you too."

  My heart dropped, pooling at my stomach. My entire body felt like it had been stretched and turned inside out.

  She looked at me, winking as she laughed. "Hey there, Stormy Bear. Did you miss me?"

  Chapter 20

  "How the hell did you get in here?" Cross asked, her entire body tensing and her hand staying stalwart, the gun pointed in Natasha's direction.

  For her part, Natasha stood there calmly, her arms folded over her chest and her hip jutted outward lazily.

  "Easier than you'd think," she answered. "Honestly, I've seen sand castles with better security than this place. One little trashcan fire, and the entire building clears out like Chernobyl. It's almost too easy."

  "What are you doing here, Nat?" I asked, embarrassed at how weakly the words came out. I couldn't help it though. Just seeing her, standing there like some living mirage, looking for all the world exactly the same as she had the day she disappeared, the day I planned on proposing, was enough to make me think I was having a mental break.

  "Nat," she repeated the word, smiling wistfully in my direction. "It's been years since anyone has called me by that name."

  "Give it a couple of minutes," Cross said. "You'll see it across a mugshot."

  "Neither of you know what you're doing," Natasha said. "And you sure as hell don't know what you're up against."

  "Maybe not, ma'am," Cross said. "But I know what you're up against. I call her Bridget, and she's caused huge men to hit their knees. I'm pretty sure she'd make quick work of you."

  "Gonna shoot an unarmed woman in a police department?" Natasha asked, licking her upper lip and smiling. "No wonder things have gone to hell in this town. The police department isn't worth a damn. "Besides, you're not going to shoot me, Katherine Cross."

  "How do you know her name?" I asked.

  "Stormy Bear," she said, smiling widely. "I figured what happened last time would have been enough to teach you that I never get into anything without doing my homework first." She winked at me. "Especially nowadays. Things have changed for me, Stormy. I'm playing in the big leagues now."

  "Get on the ground!" Cross shouted, though Natasha didn't even look in her direction, much less abide by her orders.

  "Who are you working for now, Nat?" I asked, steeling myself as I remembered the man I was now as opposed to the man I had been back then, the man she left, the man she conned. “Who is behind this?”

  I shuddered to think of the answer to that question. Natasha had worked for mobsters, gangsters, and even corrupt politicians. Now, by her own admission, she was in “the big leagues”. What on earth could she have meant by that? If the sort of things she had been doing for years weren’t big leagues, then I couldn’t imagine who was.

  “Whatever you think the answer to that
question is, you’re wrong, Stormy,” she said, still smiling, still calm. “Things aren’t like they were before; not for me anyway.” She shook her head. “I’m going to ask you one more time, just because you’re you, to forget about this and walk away.”

  “And if I don’t?” I asked, scanning her face for signs of genuine emotion and remembering that I had never been able to find that where this particular woman was concerned.

  “Don’t make me answer that question, Stormy,” Natasha said. “I really don’t want to answer that question.”

  “Don’t bother then,” Cross said, walking toward the woman with her gun still pointed in Natasha’s direction. “How about you just get your ass on the ground?”

  “Do you mind?” Natasha asked, finally looking in Cross’s direction. “I’m trying to have a conversation with my boyfriend.”

  My stomach twisted at the word.

  “I am definitely not your boyfriend,” I answered, my mouth dry and my heart pounding hard against the inside of my ribcage.

  “Well, maybe not right now, Stormy,” she answered. “But once upon a time, and besides, you never know what the future will bring.”

  That might have been true. In large part, the future was a mystery to me. One particular piece of it was as clear and pristine as crystal though. There was nothing in this life or the next that would ever drive me back into the arms of the conniving snake of a woman who stood before me right now.

  Of course, that was neither here nor there. All that mattered was getting the truth out of this woman, of finding out where Tanya was, and why she disappeared the way she did.

  “On the ground, or I’ll put you on the ground, lady! I’m not asking!” Cross said, her voice loud and terse.

  Natasha rolled her eyes and balked. “Well, that’s not going to happen,” she said. “I’m certainly not getting on the ground and you, as it were, are not going to be in any position to put me there.”

  “Seeing as I’m the one with the gun, I’m going to have to ask you why that is,” Cross stated.