Deep Waters (The Security Specialists)

by Jessica R. Patch

  “How do they know where to go? The turtle babies?”

  Caley grinned. Turtle babies. “They’re phototactic. Attracted to light. The brightest light guides them. That’s why we don’t allow vehicles on the beach at night. They can get confused and crawl toward the headlights instead of following the moonlight over the ocean.”

  “So they die if they go toward the false light?”

  Exactly. “They could.”

  “Reminds me of something biblical,” Miss Whittle said as she appeared in the living room, a smile on her face. Color had come back to her cheeks. “The Bible talks about the enemy masquerading as an angel of light. False light. If we get confused and crawl toward it, it can kill us spiritually.”

  Caley hadn’t ever thought of that. But Miss Whittle was right. Being guided by the wrong light could definitely put someone in danger.

  “Now. I’m feeling much stronger and more myself. Don’t insist on babysitting me. Besides, Mr. and Mrs. Bloom are next door and they know someone broke in. They’re on neighborhood watch.”

  “I’d feel terrible if something else happened, Miss Whittle.” Caley couldn’t take that chance. Plus they were being followed. Someone could be watching the house even now. As if Shep shared her thoughts, he ambled to the window, peered out.

  “Honey, I refuse to live in fear. God didn’t create us to do so. Whatever happens, it is well with my soul. My hope is in God.”

  God, why can’t I have faith like Miss Whittle?

  “She’s right, Little Flynn. We’re all gonna face our Maker at some point. And I guess it’s not so much our end as a new beginning.” He glanced at her and smiled at Miss Whittle.

  Caley nearly dropped to the floor. Well, that answered her question on how deep Shep’s faith went. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind rushing into battle from the front line.

  “Well said, my boy. Well said. Skedaddle.” Miss Whittle left them alone in the living room.

  “Who else would have information about Mary Beth?” Shep asked.

  “Toby Anders. In the lab.”

  “Let’s go see him.”

  * * *

  There weren’t enough oatmeal raisin cookies in the world to ease the humiliation searing through Shep. Three weeks. That was the longest relationship he’d been in but somehow he felt he owed Caley a truth about himself.

  Her idea about kissing had thrown him for a loop, sending his heart upside down. Then to have her nose right there against his, and her sweet breath on his lips when she spoke... He’d needed her to shut up or he would have made the biggest mistake ever.

  Because he’d wanted to kiss her.

  But if he was going to keep his head on straight, he couldn’t. He had to keep her safe. Kissing was nothing but a distraction. One he wouldn’t mind exploring, but Wilder would kill him. Shep would ream himself out.

  Because he didn’t do long-term relationships.

  Three weeks.

  The subtle shock on Caley’s face at those two words had struck a blow, but the look on her face when he’d mentioned meeting God face-to-face was the knockout punch. Shock. Disbelief that a guy like him, with his list of shortcomings, might have faith in God.

  Yeah, he had the faith to believe that he was eternally secure. He’d accepted Jesus as his Savior. But he’d yet to come to grips with God being a father. That was a tougher pill to swallow. His own father hadn’t bothered to care enough to introduce himself.

  He’d studied Wilder and Caley’s dad. Mr. Flynn was everything he imagined a dad might be. But he wasn’t Shep’s father. And going to holidays at the Flynns’ only reminded him of everything he’d been cheated out of. Father-son milestones. Knowing how a man loved a woman and led his family. What if a woman walked out on him because he didn’t know how to love her properly? He’d been attracted to women. Dated them. But he’d never experienced being in love with a single one. Never opened the lid on his past. Never even shared a favorite color or food.

  Made it easier to leave and he’d never wanted to stay.

  So why had he spilled out an embarrassing truth to Caley Flynn of all people? He glanced over. She’d been messing with her nails on the drive to the center. Quiet.

  Did she now see him in a different light? A man who couldn’t commit to a relationship might not be able to follow through with his commitment to keep her safe. Surely she had to know that wasn’t true. He parked in her designated parking space and killed the engine.

  “I’m gonna stick this out. See it through to the end.”

  She raised her chin, peered into his eyes. “I know you will, Shepherd. You’re a good soldier.”

  The way she said soldier sent a wave of unease through him. As if it that was a bad word. “And I’m going to make sure you come through it safely.”

  “I appreciate that. Thank you.” So prim. Proper.

  He’d marred himself with his admission. Couldn’t change it. He regretted telling her. Inside, she strode to her office and opened her mini fridge, pulling out a can of peach tea. “You want anything? I have this and water.”

  “Pass.”

  She cracked open the can and swigged. “Don’t tell my mama.”

  He grinned; she seemed more herself. “Secret’s safe with me.” Tea in a can. “Don’t let all the South bleed out of ya, though.”

  “Never.” She sighed. “It’s actually really good.”

  “Again. Pass.”

  “Let’s go find Toby.” She locked her office door and they scurried down the hall to the lab. Toby was a gangly kid with a breakout flaring on his cheeks.

  “Hey, Caley.”

  “Toby. How goes it?” Caley looked at Shep. “This is my friend Shepherd Lightman.”

  Toby gave him a clammy, weak handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Mary Beth.” Caley laid a hand on his lanky arm. “Did she confide in you about anything? Or did she act odd in the weeks before she died?”

  Toby rubbed his brow with his forearm. “Confide like what?”

  “Was she seeing anyone other than Billy?” Caley asked.

  “No,” Toby said. “Not that I know of. But she was going to break things off with him. He would swing by the lab ’bout every day and then in the last week or so it stopped. I asked her about it.”

  “And?” Caley prompted.

  Toby shifted, kept glancing at Shepherd. “Said that she wasn’t sure they were going to work out, but when she didn’t offer any more information I didn’t pry.”

  Caley nodded. “And what about her behavior?”

  Toby’s mouth twisted from one side to the other and he stared toward the wall. “Well, she did seem to be obsessed with the logbooks.”

  “What logbooks?” Shep asked.

  Caley turned. “We have the interns and some volunteers log when turtles nest and lay their clutch, and we count them. It’s a lot of work, depending on the species of turtle. There can be fifty to two hundred eggs. But it’s important so we get it done.”

  “We also log how many turtles we rescue and when we release them. Where we found them. Data like that,” Toby offered.

  “Which logs was she obsessed with?” Shep asked.

  Toby pointed to the filing cabinet. “Egg count. Turtle logs.”

  Caley beelined it to the filing cabinet. “Recent ones?”

  “I guess.” Toby rubbed his hands on his cargo shorts. “You don’t think her death was accidental, do you?”

  “We’re just looking into every angle.” Shep studied Caley as she loaded her arms with logbooks. “Why isn’t your data digitalized?”

  “It is. We keep both. We log with paper. Then add the extra measure of entering into the system. Leo is old-school and we don’t need all those tablet lights out on the beach.” Caley handed Shep the stack of logbooks. “Thanks, Toby. Keep this quiet, will you?”

  Toby nodded emphatically. “No problem.”

  Back in Caley’s office, Shep dropped the logbooks on her desk. “What are
we looking for?”

  “I have no idea. But if she was obsessing over something in one of these entries, then I want to know it. It might be what got her killed.” Caley swigged the rest of her peach tea and shot it in the trash can.

  Shep opened a journal. Location of each nest, number of eggs in the nest, what species of turtle. A check mark had been placed if the eggs had hatched along with the date of the hatch. “If she found something odd in the logbooks, we ought to, as well, right? A discrepancy of some kind? Question is how will we find it? You only do initial counts of the eggs.”

  She ignored him as she engrossed herself in one of the journals, then she rummaged through them, a frown on her face.

  “What’s the problem?”

  She shook her head. “I’m missing three weeks of rehabilitation and rescue journals.” She went to work clacking on her keyboard. “The information hasn’t been entered yet. Where would three weeks of journal entries have disappeared to?”

  “Maybe that’s what the intruder is looking for.” Incriminating information could be in those journals. Like missing turtles.

  Caley’s eyes widened. “You don’t think someone on the inside is stealing turtles do you?”

  She was following his thinking. If Mary Beth had found a discrepancy in the logbooks, she might have gone to someone who didn’t want that information known. “Sea turtles are a delicacy overseas. I’ve been to Thailand. Seen it. And they’re used for medicinal purposes, as well. A lot of money can be made, Caley.”

  Her cheeks drained of color and she jumped up. “I’m going to Leo.”

  “We discussed this.” Leo wasn’t innocent. Going to him with these accusations might send him over the edge, and Caley’s life was at stake. “You can’t go in with information you don’t have, Little Flynn. What proof is there that this might be going down?”

  She tapped a finger on one of the journals and her color came back to her cheeks. “I won’t go in accusing, but keeping up with the journals and entries is my job. Inquiring about a few missing journals isn’t accusing.”

  Excellent point. Shep would like to see his reaction. “Okay.”

  Caley stormed out the office door and blew into Leo’s office. He raised his head, brow knit.

  “I’m missing three weeks’ worth of logs.” She folded her arms and pinned Dr. Fines with a hard glare. So much for not accusing him of anything.

  “I have them. Why is that a problem?”

  “Why do you have them?”

  Leo’s eyebrows rose. “Because I run this facility and I’m gathering some private data. Like I always do. Getting ready for my presentation to donors. I need statistics and numbers.” He frowned. “And since when do you barrel into my office like this?”

  She heaved a breath. “Since you decided to ignore the fact that someone killed Mary Beth and attacked me.”

  Fines glanced away. Guilty? “I’m sorry, Caley, that you feel I’m insensitive. I’m not. I’ve called and checked on the Whalings and sent flowers on behalf of our center.”

  Big deal. This guy was hiding something. An affair with Mary Beth. Something sinister to do with the turtles. Or something they hadn’t come across yet.

  “Can I see the logbooks?” Caley asked.

  “When I’m done with them and have my PowerPoint all together, of course.” He held her gaze.

  Finally, Caley backed down. “You can leave them on my desk.” She turned and strode back to her office. For a while she didn’t speak, but the turmoil in her eyes said it all. She was awakening to the fact that her mentor and boss might be the bad guy.

  “Caley,” he murmured.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s time to be more proactive. To do some surveillance on Leo Fines. I don’t trust him.” Shep waited for her permission but he was doing it regardless.

  She opened another can of peach tea, but instead of drinking it, she traced circles along the outside of the can. “I’m going with you. I need to see for myself. Because...because I can’t believe Leonard Fines might be a criminal of some kind.”

  Shep did surveillance best alone. “Not a good idea. It could be dangerous and I don’t want to purposely put you in the line of fire if it goes sideways.” Wilder would kill him, for one. Not to mention he didn’t want to get into a predicament that might require fake kissing again. Because fake kissing might not stay pretend.

  “It’s tailing him. How much danger can we end up in?”

  Questions like that should never be asked. Whoever was out there was desperate. And willing to murder.

  Anything could go wrong.

  SIX

  Shep hung back as Caley injected antibiotics into some of the sick sea turtles. Her gentle ways mesmerized him. Wilder would have Shep’s hide if he knew the thoughts rolling around in his mind concerning his baby sister. None inappropriate, but he was entertaining the idea of having her in his arms, of feeling her lips on his or even strolling down the beach holding hands.

  Where was this coming from? Holding hands wasn’t his thing. Strolling a beach wasn’t something Shepherd did, for that matter. But he could picture it. With Caley. Her slender fingers laced with his rough ones.

  Her glasses had slipped down her nose again and her wild mass of hair was all over the place on her head, yet it seemed strategically placed that way. Did she have any clue how incredibly beautiful she was? If so, she never flaunted it.

  An email notification dinged on his phone and he checked it. Wheezer. He didn’t want to interrupt Caley’s work, but she’d want to see this. Mary Beth’s iCloud account had been accessed, and he had all of her information. Photos. Videos. The whole enchilada.

  “There there, you sweet thing,” Caley cooed. “You’ll be back to your world before you know it.” She ran her hands over its shell and caught Shep staring. “Releasing them is the best. Next week, I’ll be able to do that. If you’re here, you can come along.”

  He’d like that. A lot.

  “I have an email from Wheezer.”

  Caley cleared her throat. “You got it from here, Toby?”

  “Sure.”

  She excused herself and they went into her office. Shep used Caley’s computer to open his email and download the photos. Several group photos of the interns arriving at the center. More with Caley. With turtles. Friends. Random scenery. At a park. Lots of them at a park.

  “She loved Palm Park. It’s on the north end of Turtle Bay. Good for bird and alligator watching. And just enjoying Florida’s beauty.”

  He continued flipping.

  Mary Beth and Billy Reynolds.

  Mary Beth and Ashley.

  Mary Beth and Toby. Hmm... “What do you make of this one?”

  Caley studied the photo. “Friends taking a selfie. Everyone does it.”

  “Check her Instagram. Did she post it on there?” The photo was innocent in and of itself. His arm slung around her shoulder while she leaned into him and smiled for the camera. But his eyes... Something was in the eyes. “Isn’t he engaged?”

  “Yes. To a girl back home. He’s from Clearwater. Sees her on weekends.” Caley scrolled through Mary Beth’s Instagram. “I don’t see it, but that doesn’t mean they were in a secret romantic relationship.”

  They might not have been.

  But then, they might have. Shepherd couldn’t rule any possibility out.

  By the time they scrolled through the last one, frustration had coiled the muscles around Shep’s shoulders and neck. No Mystery Man. Unless it was Toby. Nothing of her and Leo that didn’t include the other interns. He checked his watch. 1830 hours.

  Rustling from outside drew his attention. He cracked open the door. Leo was locking up his office and leaving for the day. “He’s on the move. Let’s go.” The past few days, they’d tailed him, but he hadn’t gone anywhere other than the office, home and occasionally the grocery store. Shepherd hadn’t even seen his wife once. Seemed odd. Were they on the outs? If so, was it because he was Mystery Man?

  Caley
scrambled from her chair and grabbed her purse while Shep waited for the sound of footsteps to disappear. Reopening the door, Shep peered out and motioned Caley to follow. Leo headed to his silver Avalon. They hurried to Shep’s rental car and waited for Leo to leave. When he turned onto the main street, Shep left the parking lot, staying more than five cars behind.

  “You said Fines was married, right? Not divorced?” Shepherd asked.

  “Why? Are you still thinking he’s Mystery Man? He’s not. He’s a happily married man with a daughter he dotes on, who happens to be a year older than Mary Beth, so to insinuate he was having an affair with Mary Beth grosses me out completely.”

  “It’s possible, though.”

  “I’m not naive. I know things like that happen.”

  Just not to Leo Fines is what she didn’t add.

  He turned onto Tourist Row. Restaurants. Clubs. Tattoo shops. “Well, this isn’t home.”

  Caley shifted in her seat. “No. It’s not.”

  Leo’s car turned down an alley in between two tall buildings.

  “We can’t take the car down there. I’m going to slip out and go on foot.” He unbuckled and opened his door.

  “I am too then.”

  “No. Stay put.”

  Caley removed her seat belt. “If he’s into something bad, I want to see it with my own eyes.”

  Looking into watery, desperate eyes, Shep couldn’t deny her this. Against his better judgment, he caved. The woman did things to him. Softened him. He’d have to pull it together. “Fine, but stay on my six.”

  “Yes, sir.” She slipped out of the car and they stuck close to the stucco buildings. As they slunk around the corner of one of the buildings—a club—Leo Fines climbed out of his car, a dark duffel bag in hand.

  “That doesn’t look like an innocent man, Little Flynn.” Shep hated to disappoint her. But this guy was crooked. Shep looked at the sign hanging on the back door. The Nest. “What’s the skinny on this place? You know?”

  “It’s been in the papers before. Fights. Gets pretty rowdy at times. Some of the interns blow off steam here on weekends.” Caley chewed her thumbnail. “What do you think is in that bag?”

  Fines knocked and the door opened. A man with tree trunks for biceps and a shiny noggin stepped out and motioned Fines inside. “Nothing good.” He retrieved his phone and took a picture.