Deep Waters (The Security Specialists)

by Jessica R. Patch

  Caley softly groaned. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Shep inched along the side of the building, then darted behind a Dumpster, Caley right on his tail. The smell of days-old trash hit his gag reflex. Flies buzzed.

  He snapped a few more pictures of Fines’s car and the building before him, then he scrolled through the pictures in Mary Beth’s iCloud account while they waited. One seemed familiar. There. Same bright yellow stucco. A neon sign with a wave on it. The Nest. “Mary Beth has been here.” He showed Caley the photo. “You know who she might have been with? It’s just a photo of the place. I don’t see anyone from your center in it.”

  Caley studied the photo. “No. Mary Beth didn’t go to clubs.”

  “Well, someone took this picture with her phone. I think she’s been here even if she didn’t go inside.” Question was...why? And what was in Fines’s duffel bag? Money? Couldn’t be turtles. Those things were huge. But maybe smaller ones. Like hatchlings.

  A few minutes later, Fines came out without the bag. Shep snapped another photo.

  When he drove off, Shep turned to Caley. Her eyes pooled. “I’m sorry.” It sickened him that the man she’d looked up to for so long was corrupt at best. Possibly a murderer behind the tampering of Caley’s oxygen tank.

  She nodded and slipped her glasses off, swiped at her eyes and put the glasses back on. “Me too.”

  “We need to poke around inside that club.” Someone inside might have known Mary Beth. Or maybe they could actually discover what was worth murdering her for.

  “Well, it is Saturday night,” Caley said. “We can go in under the guise of club hopping on the weekend. Although, I seriously doubt someone will have turtles out for sale.”

  “No. But she had a picture of that club for a reason. Leo was inside. This place has something to do with her death. My gut says so.”

  “Mine too.”

  “I’ll call Tom at Turtle Bay Police Department and see what inside information he has on this club.” He motioned for her to head back to the car. She darted from behind the Dumpster, Shep following. He glanced up at the window overlooking the alley, and a curtain shifted.

  Had they been spotted?

  * * *

  Caley finished applying her makeup. She rarely wore it, but they were going undercover and she had to look the part. She’d dressed in trendy jeans, a flowy black blouse and black wedges. She straightened her hair, left it down and gave her eyelids a smoky effect with charcoal and soft gray shadows. What exactly had they seen at the club earlier? Could Shep’s suspicions be true? Could Leo be a part of something as vile as selling turtles? What else could it be? She hadn’t had the chance to look into the logs. Leo still had them.

  And how would they figure it out tonight? As if someone would be set up in a booth auctioning off sea turtles. But if anyone could sniff out something nefarious, it was Shep with his sixth sense. She was counting on it. Each day zapped her strength. Worry ran in her veins. Until they figured out the truth, Caley was in danger. The thought lodged in her throat, but she swallowed it down, spritzed a light perfume in the air and walked through it.

  She hadn’t been this dressed up since her last date with a professor from the University of Tampa. It hadn’t ended well. Her nerves hummed. Did she look okay? Would Shep think so? Not that it mattered since this wasn’t a date. Shep wasn’t interested in her and she shouldn’t be interested in him. But she couldn’t deny that she was.

  The man was a mystery. She wanted to pry her way in and see what was buried underneath that tough exterior, dig past the soldier to the man. Who was Shepherd Lightman really? What if she did get past the rough edges and found he was a man she very much could love? How long would she have him before he left her? Before he wandered into a deadly mission and it got him killed, leaving her devastated and mourning like Gran. Never to recover. Never to be the same.

  No. She wouldn’t let it happen.

  She smoothed her hair and glanced one last time in the mirror. This eye shadow made her blue eyes pop. Taking a deep breath, she opened the bedroom door and tiptoed toward the sounds in the kitchen.

  Shep stood with his back to her.

  Caley’s knees buckled and she nearly fanned her face with her hand.

  No longer was he in his signature jeans and black or white T-shirt.

  He’d traded all that in for stylish faded jeans that fit him just right and a dressy white shirt that clung to his muscular back and biceps. Wide cuffs met his elbows, revealing corded forearms, and accented his tanned skin.

  She cleared her throat.

  “You ready to—” He turned and the rest of his statement died on his lips. He stood, mouth open.

  Her stomach knotted. “Shep?”

  He took his sweet time scanning her from head to toe before meeting her with a gaze that completely baffled her. “I’m gonna have to break an arm tonight. I can see it already,” he muttered.

  “Excuse me? I thought we were there to do surveillance or something, not manhandle folks.”

  “Manhandling is going to be unavoidable, I’m afraid. Little Flynn, you’re not looking so little right now.” He blew a heavy breath and rubbed his ear, then breezed past her.

  Excitement rippled down her spine and warmed her insides. Shepherd Lightman had seen her as something other than a mission. A woman. Unfortunately, it couldn’t move past attraction for either of them. She met him in the living room. “It’s after eight. You ready?”

  “Yes and no.” Now he seemed irritated.

  Had she done something wrong? They were supposed to go to a club. She’d dressed up. Completely appropriate dress attire for that matter. The man was confusing to say the least. “I’m going to let Miss Whittle know we’ll be out late.”

  He responded with a grunt and now he wouldn’t look at her. After she said her goodbyes, they drove to the club and parked across the street in the open lot. Music blared. Cigarette smoke, beer and a mixture of perfumes and colognes saturated the muggy air.

  The grill two buildings down reminded Caley they hadn’t eaten. Paying the cover charge, they entered the crowded nightclub.

  Neon lights flashed as a DJ spun records. The bass was so loud it thumped in Caley’s chest. A railing surrounding an open mezzanine on the second floor popped in neon pink. A sleek black bar ran the length of the west wall. Four guys served drinks to the flood of patrons packed in like sardines.

  Suddenly Caley was uncomfortable. The kind of partying going on here had never been her scene. She’d given her life to Jesus in first grade and had never gone through a rebellious stage. She licked her lips and willed herself to try to look at ease. Like she belonged.

  She glanced at Shep. A huge grin spread across his face as he subtly moved to the music, his eyes taking in the surroundings, the people. He seemed to fit, but on closer inspection, behind that facade, Caley recognized discomfort.

  He’d been wild. This would have been his scene, but he was a Christian now. Was his whole sordid past flashing before his eyes? Everything he’d wished he’d never done. Her heart wanted to reach out and soothe him. Mustering up some courage of her own, she slipped her fingers through his. He bristled and glanced at their intertwined hands and then at her, questions in his eyes.

  She gave him her most supportive smile. His past was behind him. He was here for good. And she was standing with him. For him.

  He cocked his head, studied her face and gave a small nod of acknowledgment, then he led her through the throng of people. Caley studied him as he observed the place. The people. If she didn’t know why they were here, she wouldn’t realize he was on a mission. Surveying. The man was good. He paused near the bar.

  “I don’t see anything,” Caley said, her hand still in his. “Do you?”

  He ignored her, watching the bartenders. No—one particular bartender. Caley watched. He didn’t seem to be doing anything but delivering drinks to customers. What did Shep see that she didn’t?

  She gave up and spot
ted Ashley and Billy through the crowd. She squeezed Shep’s hand and he nodded. “I see them.”

  Of course he had.

  “We’ll watch for now. See if they lead us anywhere. If not, we’ll approach them.”

  Good plan. Shep continued to eye the bartender and a few patrons who wandered through the throng of people toward the back of the club.

  A slow song played. “Let’s dance, Little Flynn. You go to clubs to drink and dance. Since we don’t drink...” He led her to the dance floor. Pulled her close, but not inappropriately so like some of the couples.

  “I’m not a great dancer, Shepherd.”

  He peered down at her and grinned. “All you have to do is move with me, Little Flynn.” He placed her hands around his neck. His warm hands slid down her back. “Just move with me.”

  Her stomach fluttered as she leaned into his chest and fell into step with him. Listening to a song about never saying goodbye.

  At some point, she would say goodbye to Shepherd.

  He would go back to Atlanta. Back to dangerous work.

  And she would hopefully still have her job. Life would go back to being safe. Quiet. Normal.

  She’d be alone again. That had never bothered her before. But now she realized how lonely it would be. How lonely she had been.

  When the ballad came to an end, a faster beat picked up and Shepherd guided her off the dance floor. “Let’s go talk to your interns,” he said.

  Caley approached them with a smile.

  Ashley gaped. “Caley?”

  “Hey.”

  Ashley glanced at Shep, letting her gaze linger a little longer than necessary.

  Billy strode up with two drinks in his hand. “I can’t find—” He froze, then grinned. “Caley? What are you doing here?”

  Good question. She never went to places like this.

  “I forced her to come. I heard this place is known for some serious bass,” Shep offered, coming to her rescue.

  “Totally,” Ashley said. “If you can’t feel it in your chest, it ain’t strong enough.”

  Shep landed a killer smile on her. Ashley blushed.

  Billy craned his neck up at Shepherd. “So you and Caley are...?”

  “Together. Yeah.” Shep slung his arm around her, drawing her to his side. “I travel for work.”

  Billy slid a glance her way. Was he buying it? “Well, we just came to blow off some steam.”

  “I was missing Mary Beth,” Ashley said.

  “Me too,” Billy added.

  Caley wasn’t sure what to think. They didn’t seem to be grieving. “Did she ever come here to blow off steam?”

  “Mary Beth?” Billy chuckled. “No way. But she never minded that I came.” He heaped on a little more emphasis than necessary.

  But they had proof she’d at least been to the club, if not inside. Did Billy know that? Was he lying? Could there be more going on between Ashley and Billy? If so, Mary Beth might have suspected he was cheating and followed him to the club to catch them. But catching her boyfriend cheating with another intern, her friend, wasn’t motive to murder her.

  “That was nice of her. Not to mind you hanging out here.” A shock of hair caught Caley’s attention from the back of the club. Was that Toby? “Ya’ll have fun.” She needed to catch him before he left the scene. She left Shep’s arms and slipped through the crowd, but by the time she made it to the restrooms, the exit door was closing and Shep grabbed her arm.

  “What was that all about?”

  “I think I saw Toby. From the lab.” If it had been Toby. She’d only caught the hair and a blip of a side profile.

  Shep frowned. “You sure?”

  “I know. I find it hard to believe he was here too, but I thought... I don’t know. We’re not making any headway. This has been a bust.”

  Shep’s gaze landed on a scantily dressed woman. “I wouldn’t say that just yet.”

  A shot of hot jealousy burned through Caley. “She pretty?”

  He frowned. “I’m not looking at her. I’m looking at her drink.”

  The woman carried a martini glass with a violet-colored drink and a green umbrella poking out. “Why? What’s so special about her drink?”

  Shep trailed the woman as she pushed through the crowd to a back room. The shiny-headed brute who’d let Leo in the back door stood guard. “Maybe nothing. But I’ve seen at least five people order the same drink and from the same bartender.” He pointed to the dark-haired guy flirting with a redhead at the bar.

  “And why is that something?”

  “It’s called the Purple Turtle and it seems to be what gets them access to the back room that dude is guarding. No one else has been back there. The drink is the password so to speak.”

  Caley reeled. “No wonder my brother loves you on his team. I never picked up on any of that. And I was watching too.”

  “Yeah, well, you have to be extra observant when you’ve lived like I have.”

  If they weren’t in a noisy club, Caley would ask him to expound. That was the longest sentence about his private life he’d given her so far and it was as she suspected. Oh, what Shepherd must have gone through as a child. Her heart ached for him.

  “So what do you think is going on behind the door? You think they’re buying turtles?”

  Shep smirked. “No. But they all look like they’re geared up for a seriously good time, if you get my drift.” He studied the door, the burly guy standing in front of it. “The drink could be spiked with ecstasy, it’s a major club drug...or they’re buying it, or other drugs, back there. I’m not sure. But the drink’s name interests me. Purple Turtle.”

  Caley spotted a guy with a purple drink. “Hey, he’s got one. I could butter up to him and see if I could go back there with him.”

  Shep raised his eyebrows. “Not in a million years would I let you do that. And his umbrella is pink. You have to have the green umbrella to get in the back room.”

  Caley gaped. “I’m gonna call you Shepherd Holmes, Mr. Observant. All you need is the hat and pipe.”

  Shep laughed. “Let’s keep you safe. I’ll see if I can’t go order the drink and get back there myself. Stay on this wall. Don’t move.”

  “What about Toby?”

  “If you did see him, he’s long gone now.”

  “Okay. Go get the drink.” She grabbed his arm as he made for the bar. “But be careful. These people are dangerous.”

  He smirked. “I can take care of myself.” He paused. “And you.”

  Those words slid into her, turning her insides to warm bread pudding. Mmm...bread pudding. She should have eaten dinner. She frowned and edged to the back wall by the restrooms. The side exit door opened and several girls left giggling. The music blasted at deafening levels. Black lights replaced the neon lights, darkening the building, making it harder to see Shep’s face but easier to see his white shirt. He leaned against the bar, making small talk with a girl while the bartender busied himself with customers.

  Eerie shapes and patterns flashed across the walls. The bass thumped in her throat.

  A cold chill crawled up her arms.

  A strong arm hooked around her neck, locking her head in place so she couldn’t turn.

  Shep!

  Grabbing the arm, she yanked, but it was strong and the attacker’s grip tightened. Her purse that had been dangling in the crease of her arm was ripped from her, sending a sharp pain through her upper arm. She shrieked.

  No one heard.

  No one saw.

  Bodies danced.

  Voices cheered and laughed.

  Shep leaned against the bar talking to the bartender who had been giving out Purple Turtle drinks.

  The attacker thrust her forward and she bumped into someone, tripping and landing on her knees. More excruciating pain. Someone stepped on her fingers.

  She turned to catch a glimpse of the man who’d strangled her and stolen her purse, but he was long gone in a sea of people, the exit door swinging shut. She sprang to
her feet, her fingers throbbing, pushed through the crowd and poked her head outside.

  No guy with her purse.

  Just a few people milling about, smoking. Talking.

  A hand grabbed her shoulder and she shrieked.

  Shepherd. A mix of concern and a heated temper in his eyes.

  He visually inspected her. “What happened? One minute you were right there and then you were gone.”

  “Someone stole my purse!” She gave him the rundown.

  Shep balled his fist and pursed his lips. “I shouldn’t have ordered that stupid drink.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Forget the drink, Caley. Someone choked you and stole your purse. And I doubt it was a random snatch-and-grab.”

  Caley didn’t believe it had been either. But now they had her purse and all her information. Not that they didn’t know where she lived, but they had her driver’s license. Her debit card. Her keys to everything important.

  He gently tilted her chin up and to the right. “You’re bruised already.”

  “I’m okay.” She swallowed and put on a brave front. Shep had enough guilt on his shoulders and Caley didn’t want him to think he’d failed to keep her safe.

  “Any other injuries?” he asked.

  “Just my fingers. They got stepped on, but I’m fine. Really.” She ran a hand through her hair and inhaled deeply, hoping the jitters would settle soon.

  “I shouldn’t have left you.”

  “You had to get that drink.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “What happened?”

  “I think he didn’t trust me. I got turned down. Said they were all out for the night.”

  Lies. Shepherd had set off warning bells with the bartender. Too menacing-looking? “We’ve done all we can. Let’s get out of here.”

  They strode across the street and Shep froze.

  “What?” She turned her attention toward the parking lot.

  Her car window had been busted, glass littering the inside of her car and the asphalt around the driver’s-side door.

  She gasped. “You have got to be kidding me!”