Rock Harbor Series - 03 - Into the Deep

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by Colleen Coble




  PRAISE FOR

  INTO THE DEEP

  “Just when I think Colleen Coble can’t possibly outdo her last novel, she does it again! Into the Deep has everything: suspense, romance, danger, and a spiritual thread that’s delicately woven into the story’s fabric. Readers won’t be disappointed with the fabulously satisfying end. If you haven’t tried the Rock Harbor Series yet, you’re missing a treat!”

  Denise Hunter,

  author of The Trouble with Cowboys

  “Colleen Coble keeps the action tight throughout Into the Deep, with surprising twists to delight the most avid of suspense readers. I want to revisit these characters often!”

  Hannah Alexander,

  author of Hideaway and Safe Haven

  “Into the Deep has it all, from murder mystery to a corporate intrigue to the many challenges of the blended family. Colleen Coble has a talent for creating believable characters who live in and deal with our complicated real world.”

  DeAnna Julie Dodson,

  author of In Honor Bound, By Love Redeemed, and

  To Grace Surrendered

  “Colleen Coble has done it again! A tightly drawn storyline, set within the endless complexities of a small town in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.”

  Randall Ingermanson,

  author of Oxygen and Premonition

  “Colleen Coble knows how to keep the pages turning with characters I grew to love and amazing plot twists and turns that kept me guessing till the end. As satisfied as I was at the perfect conclusion to this series, I was sad to see it end.”

  Deborah Raney,

  author of A Nest of Sparrows and Playing by Heart

  “A gripping and emotional ride. I loved Into the Deep! Colleen Coble is a master at characterization and setting. I feel I took a trip to Michican’s Upper Peninsula, and I can only hope Bree and the gang will be back!”

  Kristin Billerbeck,

  author of What a Girl Wants and She’s Out of Control

  “Once again, Colleen Coble creates a pressure-cooker environment for her characters, then proceeds to turn up the heat. In Into the Deep, situations and relationships seem hopelessly snarled, but Coble manages to unravel the tangle and weave all the threads into a thoroughly satisfying ending.”

  Carol Cox,

  author of Sagebrush Brides

  INTO THE

  DEEP

  ALSO BY COLLEEN COBLE

  Birthday Wishes included in Smitten

  Love Between the Lines included in Secretly Smitten

  UNDER TEXAS STARS NOVELS

  Blue Moon Promise

  Safe in His Arms

  THE HOPE BEACH NOVELS

  Tidewater Inn

  Rosemary Cottage (available July 2013)

  THE LONESTAR NOVELS

  Lonestar Sanctuary

  Lonestar Secrets

  Lonestar Homecoming

  Lonestar Angel

  THE MERCY FALLS NOVELS

  The Lightkeeper’s Daughter

  The Lightkeeper’s Bride

  The Lightkeeper’s Ball

  THE ROCK HARBOR SERIES

  Without a Trace

  Beyond a Doubt

  Into the Deep

  Cry in the Night

  Silent Night: A Rock Harbor Christmas novella (available as an e-book only)

  THE ALOHA REEF SERIES

  Distant Echoes

  Black Sands

  Dangerous Depths

  Midnight Sea

  Alaska Twilight

  Fire Dancer

  Abomination

  Anathema

  © 2004 by Colleen Coble

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotation in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, TN, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

  Thomas Nelson, Inc. titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Publisher Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-1-40168-858-5 (2013 repackage)

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Coble, Colleen.

  Into the deep / Colleen Coble.

  p. cm.— (The Rock Harbor series ; 3)

  ISBN 978-0-8499-4431-4 (trade paper)

  ISBN 978-1-59554-318-9 (repak)

  1. Upper Peninsula (Mich.)—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3553.02285158 2004

  813'.54—dc22

  2004006639

  Printed in the United States of America

  13 14 15 16 17 18 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For my brothers and sister-in-law,

  who believe I can do anything:

  Rick and Mary Rhoads

  David Rhoads

  CONTENTS

  DEAR READER

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  EPILOGUE

  READING GROUP GUIDE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  DEAR READER,

  I’m so glad you picked up Into the Deep—and welcome back to Rock Harbor! This town and its people hold a special place in my heart.

  It was such a joy to write about the folks in Rock Harbor again, but it was also a hard season in the life of my family. As I was writing, my dear father-in-law was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Meanwhile, Bree and Cassie wrestled with a similar prognosis for their dad in Rock Harbor. This story will always serve as a reminder to me to make every day count.

  I’m happy to share that there are more books set in Rock Harbor on their way to you. Watch for my first children’s book, all about my precious granddaughter, Alexa Grace. Her “Punky” book is coming in July 2013—set in Rock Harbor of course! It’s titled The Blessings Jar. And there are more Rock Harbor books in the works. Rock Harbor Search and Rescue releases in April 2013 and Lost and Found will be out in October 2013. They feature Emily, the young girl in Without a Trace. She’s fourteen now and has a search dog of her own.

  And do email me and let me know what you think. I love to hear from my readers. Email me at [email protected] and visit my website at colleencoble.com.

  Happy reading!

  Colleen

  1

  Swarms of black flies tried to find a way past the netting around Bree Nicholls’s head. Every inch of her body was swathed in some kind of covering in an effort to foil the insects, but from the stinging at her ankle, she knew some had breached her defenses. She paused and swatted at the biting pain. Michigan’s Upper Peninsula might be the best place to live at other times, but June was pure misery in the deep woods.

  Her German shepherd–chow search dog, Samson, wagged his curly tail in an effort to dispel the clouds of black flies buzzing around his he
ad. He raced ahead of her, pausing occasionally to look behind as if to say, “Are you coming?”

  Naomi O’Reilly, Bree’s best friend and search-and-rescue partner, panted to keep up. “You think he’s dead?” she asked.

  Bree didn’t pause to answer. It was a useless question anyway. The only way to answer that would be to find the body. She thrashed her way through the clinging blackberry bushes onto a small beach fronting Lake Superior. The beach had managed to hold back the encroaching North Woods and seemed almost hidden by the sunlight-choking tall trees surrounding it. The sandy area was already full of deputies and searchers. She scanned the shore for her brother-in-law, Sheriff Mason Kaleva, and saw his bulky form directing the searchers about to begin dragging the lake.

  She almost groaned when she saw who was standing beside him. Ranger Kade Matthews’s gaze met hers, and she wished she could leave. But this was a small community, and people already talked enough about their breakup. She tried to smile but feared it was more of a grimace when Kade’s own expression darkened.

  Samson bounded across the damp sand to greet him. Kade scratched the dog’s ears, then walked away to join other rangers and Mason’s deputies at the water’s edge. As head of security on the Kitchigami Wildlife Preserve, he had every right to be here, Bree told herself, hurrying to join Mason and Samson. At least she wouldn’t have to pretend nothing was wrong. But if this breakup had been the right thing, why did it hurt so much?

  “Anything?” she asked Mason.

  Mason shook his head. “This is a heck of a way to introduce the new residents to Rock Harbor. The chamber of commerce coaxed the lab to open here by painting a pretty picture of all the recreation in the Keweenaw. Now it will look like the area is unsafe.”

  “He might just be lost,” Bree reminded him. “Maybe he never went out on the lake.”

  “He was due home four hours ago,” Mason said. “His fishing gear is still by the water. Besides, he’s a no-show at his son’s fifth birthday party. Not like him at all, according to his wife.”

  She couldn’t argue with that, and it didn’t bode well. She glanced at her watch. Two o’clock. Her son, Davy, was at the party with his friend Timmy, Naomi’s stepson. The sound of the waves seemed louder, and a few raindrops hit her arm. “Storm’s coming. We’d better get out there.”

  Naomi and her dog, Charley, hurried toward her. None of the other Kitchigami K9 Search and Rescue members had arrived yet. Bree turned back to Mason. “You have a boat for us?”

  Mason nodded his head toward a dinghy. “I thought you’d like something low to the water. It’s got an engine as well as oars.”

  “Perfect. You have the scent article?” Mason handed her a paper bag. She unrolled it and then another paper bag inside the first one. “Come, Samson.”

  The dog eagerly sniffed the sock inside the bags then woofed softly. Bree handed the bag to Naomi, and Charley sniffed it as well. Both dogs turned and looked out toward the lake. Not a good sign. Bree had hoped the man had put in to shore somewhere. He was a scientist, not a sailor. Only people experienced with Lake Superior had any business out on its capricious waves.

  Once they were in the boat, Mason shoved them off. Samson immediately went to the bow. The wind blew his thick, curly fur back from his head. “Find him, Samson,” Bree urged. The dog whined, and his tail dropped between his legs. The hope of finding new resident Phil Taylor alive began to wane.

  Naomi had the motor barely putt-putting along. She steered it slowly back and forth across the inlet near the beach. The clouds were already turning darker, and a drop or two of rain plopped into the water. Charley and Samson had their noses in the air. Samson gave a howl, then strained toward shore near an outcropping of rock called Three Indians.

  “Over there!” Bree pointed and Naomi turned the boat.

  Charley whined and turned his head back to look at Naomi. Samson howled again then launched himself into the four-foot swells. Biting at the water, he paddled toward the rocks.

  “Samson, no!” The way the waves were pounding the rocks, Bree was afraid her dog would be tossed against the granite and killed. The dog hesitated then turned and paddled back to the boat.

  “Over here,” Bree shouted to Mason. “Bring the nets here.” She tossed the anchor overboard and hauled Samson back into the boat. The average water temperature in Lake Superior was only forty degrees, and she shivered when seventy pounds of cold, wet dog landed next to her. She pulled a towel out of her ready-pack and began to dry him off.

  Anything was better than facing what her dog’s reaction might mean. Though she’d had her share of searches ending badly, she was never prepared when it happened. Rubbing the towel rhythmically over her dog’s wet fur, she prayed for Phil Taylor’s family.

  “He’s got a wife and three kids,” Naomi said, her gaze on the boats beginning to drag the lake.

  Bree nodded. “I met her at the Suomi last week when she invited the kids over for the birthday party. She seemed so sweet. Poor woman.”

  “You don’t suppose he went swimming here, do you? It’s too early in the season to even think of getting in that water. I wouldn’t get in it until July.”

  “I don’t know. Some people new to the area just don’t know any better.” Bree watched until one of the searchers shouted, then she turned her face away as the nets found what they were looking for.

  Mason pulled his boat alongside Bree a few minutes later. “It’s Phil. Your boys are at their house, right? You might as well come with me to tell his wife. I think she’ll need a familiar face. She’s so far from her family.”

  Bree wanted to refuse, but she hunched her shoulders and nodded.

  The Taylors lived in a small cottage at the edge of Rock Harbor. A rental, the cottage seemed to cling for dear life to the thick woods behind it as it looked over a small cliff at Lake Superior’s seasonal fury. The storm had passed by but the effects still lingered; monster waves crashed against the rocks below.

  Children squealed in the yard, and Bree could see Davy stomping in a mud puddle. No matter how often she looked at her son, she marveled at the perfection of his compact body, a miniature version of his dead father. Her vision blurred as her gaze wandered to Adrian. He was fatherless now, too, but just didn’t know it. Life seemed so unfair at times.

  “Those boys are covered in mud.” Naomi’s voice was resigned.

  Adults mingled with the children, and Bree glanced at her watch. “It’s pickup time. Maybe we should wait until most of the people are gone to break the news to Denise.”

  Mason hesitated, then nodded. “I hope the storm didn’t flood the mine where the new lab is set up. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. Who in their right mind would try to grow plants inside a mine? And for what purpose when there are perfectly good places to grow it outside?”

  “They’re sure tight-lipped about it,” Naomi agreed. “But MJ Pharmaceuticals must know what they’re doing.”

  “You’d think so. Hilary was ecstatic when she heard they’d be employing nearly fifty people. Especially with her reelection coming up in a few months.”

  Naomi nodded. “She’s always on top of everything. I wish she’d slow down.”

  Bree knew her sister-in-law would never do that. She and Rob, Bree’s deceased husband, were as alike in temperament as they were in looks, both focused and driven when they attacked a project. “How is Hilary feeling? I haven’t seen her since last week.”

  “Sick of taking it easy, but feeling pretty good. You should see the bedroom. She’s transformed it into an office complete with fax machine. Her secretary comes there every morning. She’s nearly four months along now. Just another two months, and we’ll all breathe easier.”

  Denise was giving prizes out for the last game. She turned, and her expression changed when she saw Bree’s Jeep. The one-year-old twins clutched her legs, one on each side. Kneeling, she scooped them up and came toward the car. Bree and Mason got out and waited for her.

  “Did you
find him?” Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together.

  “Maybe we should go inside.” Mason said.

  She didn’t seem to hear him. “Phil isn’t usually so irresponsible. Did he say why he didn’t let me know he would be home so late?”

  Little Abby had her thumb in her mouth and smiled winningly at Bree. Alex began wailing, his fists rubbing his eyes.

  “May I?” Bree held out her hands for the crying child. To her amazement, Alex came right to her and cuddled against her shoulder. With Davy now nearly five, it was hard to remember when he’d been this small.

  “He’s not usually so outgoing with strangers,” Denise said. She shuffled Abby to the other hip. “Did Phil say what time he’d be home?” Her voice was high and jerky, and she didn’t look at either Bree or Mason.

  “Mrs. Taylor, I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Mason began.

  “Oh, don’t tell me he wrecked the car.” Denise gave a nervous laugh. “I told him he needed to get new tires before we moved up here.”

  “No, the car is fine. But I’m afraid Phil isn’t. We found his body in Lake Superior, ma’am, just off Three Indians beach area.”

  Denise stared at them, her mouth slack. She blinked through glazed eyes. “Wha . . . what are you saying? Wait, I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Taylor. I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the morgue and identify your husband’s body.”

  Abby nearly slipped from Denise’s grasp, and Naomi grabbed her.

  Alex began to cry as his mother shrieked. “Shh, it’s all right, little one,” Bree whispered. But it wasn’t. Nothing would be all right for this little family for a long time.

  The adults and children turned at the sound of Denise’s desperate cries. Mason took the widow’s arm and helped her into the car.

  “I’ll take care of the children,” Bree promised. “Just let the dogs out of the Jeep. I’ll need Samson here.”

 

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