Brenna unscrewed the thermos and filled his cup. The hot liquid sent a spiral of steam into the cold air. “How long did you stay in Quebec?”
Ace shrugged. “About two and a half years. Then I got accepted at a college in Maryland. Decided I wanted to go into law enforcement.”
“Law enforcement?” Brenna squeaked and took a large gulp of her coffee, burning her throat. “Why?”
“I thought I wanted to be a cop on a reservation. Changed my mind during the second year.”
Brenna pushed her hair out of her face. “So what do you do?”
His dark eyes locked onto hers. “I work for the government.”
She put her coffee down before she spilled it. She wouldn’t have been more surprised if he’d said he was a plumber. “The government? Doing what?”
“DEA. Drug Enforcement Agency.”
For the first time she admitted that she’d hoped Ace had returned to Spruce Harbor to see her again. Fool. Then terror struck her heart. Ace wouldn’t help Colin. He’d crucify him.
“Tongue tied?”
“You’re here on an assignment. To find who’s dealing drugs.”
“Yes.”
Brenna looked down at her folded hands. “Are you undercover?”
“Not officially, but I’d prefer to keep it quiet as long as possible. In this place, I figure I’m good for about a week. If that.”
She shrugged. “I don’t have any reason to broadcast the information.”
“Is it okay to put this thing on automatic pilot or whatever you call it on a boat?”
Brenna walked over and switched off the engine. The sea was calm. They could float for a few minutes. She glanced down when Ace’s hand curled around her arm. “None of this matters to us,” he said quietly.
“I don’t see how that’s possible. You told me you’d help Colin. Today I find out it’s your job to prosecute him.”
“That’s not true. The only ones I want behind bars are the ones peddling drugs. You’ve assured me Colin isn’t.”
The coffee she’d drank rose in her throat. What if Colin had lied? Could she bear to see her brother go to prison? Yes. If he’d stooped to the level of selling drugs, he belonged behind bars. “Will you still talk to him?”
“I said I would. We’ll go as soon as we get back to Spruce Harbor. Where are your traps?”
The glorious sunrise had disappeared while they’d been talking and now a heavy mist filled the air. “Not far from here. There’s some rain gear in the storage box. Go get it. I’ll take the wheel.”
Ace cursed beneath his breath. Brenna shut down like a clam the minute he’d told her he was a DEA agent. He shouldn’t be surprised. Did he think the sex last night would make her trust him?
She’d always loved her brother. When they’d been kids, she’d clucked over him like a mother hen.
If Brenna had doubts now, how would she feel when she discovered their daughter was alive? Not only alive, but living with him all these years?
He opened the storage box and hooked the lid to the screw eye to keep it open.
As he picked up the raingear, his worries about Brenna vanished. A cold, clammy sweat broke out over his body, despite the chill in the air. His heart raced, and the nausea he’d been fighting all morning threatened to spill. A cell phone connected by wire to plastic explosives lay nestled on top of coiled rope.
Chapter Nine
If it didn’t malfunction, the bomb would explode the moment the phone rang. He scanned the horizon. No other boats in sight. Were they being watched with high tech binoculars? Someone in a seaplane?
Sweat continued to prickle his back. Thankfully, it had started to rain. Otherwise, they’d have had no reason to open the storage box. God, if he hadn’t decided to follow Brenna, she’d be out here alone. He refused to think about it.
He inhaled deeply and said a quick prayer. He considered heaving the bomb over the side at the same time Brenna gunned the engine.
Just then Brenna glanced at him and smiled. “Can’t find the rain gear? There should be two sets right near the top.”
Ace swallowed, although his mouth remained dry as the Sahara. “Brenna. Listen very carefully.”
Her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
He held up a hand when she started toward him. “Stay there!”
“Why?” Her brow puckered in a frown. “You’re scaring me.”
“There’s a bomb in this gear box. I have no expertise about these devices. We have to get off this boat.”
Brenna had always been quick to accept a situation, no matter how serious. Today was no exception. “Life jackets are around the corner to your right. On a hook. Let’s drop the raft and paddle like hell.”
“Perhaps I can pick up the bomb and—”
“No,” she cut in. “That’s crazy.”
What the hell was wrong with him? She was right. He knew better. Fear of losing the woman he’d just rediscovered after so long clouded his judgment.
“Okay. Ready the raft.” He reached for the life jackets, put one on and buckled up. He hurried to where Brenna prepared the raft and helped her into the second fluorescent orange jacket. “Hurry, sweetheart. That phone could ring any second.”
He tossed the raft into the water. Within seconds it inflated and he held it close to the boat by an attached rope. “You first—go!” he commanded when Brenna opened her mouth to refuse. He picked her up and held her over the water. She had no choice but to grab the side of the boat. She dropped into the raft and rolled. He tossed the paddles.
“Hurry, Ace.”
He swung over the side and landed in the raft. They each grabbed an aluminum paddle and put all their strength into putting distance between them and the fishing vessel.
A gust of wind swung the boat around, giving them a view of the name Desperado written in bold red. A new boat, Brenna had said. Her father had taken a second mortgage to buy it.
The deafening explosion lifted their small raft out of the water. Brenna screamed something at him, but he couldn’t hear from the roar in his ears. They’d be lucky if the noise of the explosion didn’t damage their hearing.
Tidal-sized waves started to roll. Most headed toward shore building momentum. One broke over the raft, dumping water in the bottom. Brenna bailed with her hands. Pieces of wood and debris smashed into the water around them. A burning piece of wood landed next to his leg and sizzled in the water. Ace ignored the pain in his hand as he heaved it back into the sea. The strong smell of diesel oil drifted in the air.
“Are you all right?”
Brenna continued to paddle, her face a hard mask. He saw no tears. There should be tears. “I’m fine. Someone just declared war. I intend to fight back.”
“Brenna, no one knew I’d be on the boat this morning. Someone was after Colin. Or,” he stressed the word, “someone knew Colin had been arrested, so you’d be the one taking the Desperado out today. If that’s the case, then you’re the target.”
“They’ll find I make a tough enemy.”
Waves continued to rock the small raft. Ace pulled his paddle inside and drew Brenna close. “You don’t have to fight alone.”
Shaken, Brenna watched what remained of the Desperado as it sunk to the ocean’s bottom. A short time later, the sea looked as always, with only an occasional piece of debris bobbing in the water.
“We were lucky.”
She started at Ace’s voice. She wiped away the tears she refused to shed with the sleeve of her jacket. “Who would do this? Lobstering was my livelihood. Without the Desperado…” She squeezed her eyes tight, unable to continue.
Ace hugged her closer. “I’ll take care of you.”
She stiffened. “I don’t need your pity, Ace. Or your money. I’ll find a way. I always have.”
“Any insurance on the boat?”
Brenna swallowed hard and shook her head. “My father said he couldn’t afford the insurance payments. Since the boat wasn’t financed, none were required.”
“Then accept my help. We’re partners now. After last night—” He broke off to answer his cell.
Brenna picked up the paddle and dipped it in the water. They had a long way to go. Ace should call the Coast Guard.
Ace’s tone and monosyllabic answers on the phone caught her attention. She shivered. Whoever he talked to didn’t have good news. He’d turned his back but not before she saw his face pale. He lowered his voice. All she caught was a meaningless word here and there.
Abruptly, he ended the conversation and slipped the cell into his shirt pocket. He hunched his shoulders and made no move to face her.
Brenna gripped the paddle. “Who was that on the phone? Did you get bad news?”
Slowly, he twisted around. Pity filled his dark eyes. Her gut clenched. Losing the Desperado would take a second seat to what he’d just been told.
He opened his arms. “Come here. Let me hold you.”
She crawled on her knees. Warm hands trembled against her ribs. Ace shaking? The news had to be bad. Brenna’s mind raced with possibilities. The farm burned down. Her mother had a heart attack. Colin. Oh, God, something had happened to Colin. She tilted her head and gazed into Ace’s eyes. “Colin?”
“Yes.” He smoothed his hand over her cheek. “I’m sorry, Brenna. He’s dead.”
Dead? How could that be? He was in jail.
“How?” Was that her voice sounding cool and calm when inside it was screaming?
Ace’s voice faded in and out. “Suicide…hung himself…cell.”
Numbness spread into her limbs. Suicide? They must be wrong. Maybe got his name mixed up with someone else’s. Colin would never kill himself. Not her smiling, cocky brother.
Just yesterday, he’d begged for her help and she’d refused. If she’d picked up the phone to call Anson, none of this would have happened. Her mother had pegged her. She was selfish, thinking only of herself.
“Brenna, don’t go there. It’s not your fault.”
Faster than a jack-in-the-box, she sprang out of his arms and scrambled as far away as she could in the small raft. “If I’d gone to see him last night like I wanted to, this wouldn’t have happened. Instead, I stayed so we could screw like a couple of rabbits.”
His mouth tightened. “That’s bull and you know it.”
“Do I? Colin begged me to help him. My mother begged me to call Anson. I could have prevented this,” she sobbed.
“How?” Ace ground out. “By selling yourself?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late now.”
Coffee rose to the back of her throat. She leaned over the side and retched into the sea. Painful dry heaves continued long after her stomach had emptied itself. She rested her cheek on the cool rubber and listened to the gulls crying in the distance.
Ace scooted across the raft. His strong hand rubbed her back. She wanted to push him away, but didn’t have the strength.
She splashed cold water on her face. Next, she rinsed her mouth and went willingly when Ace gently tugged her against his chest.
The roar of a boat engine came from the west. Brenna squinted and searched the horizon. A Coast Guard vessel bounded over the water.
Ace’s breath warmed her cold cheek. “That was fast. I just reported the explosion. Someone must have seen it from the air and called it in.”
Brenna shrugged. She could care less if she floated on the ocean swells forever. Nothing mattered. Colin was dead. If she’d gone to see him, she’d have known he was distraught enough to commit suicide.
“You’re wrong, Brenna.”
She jumped at the ferocity of Ace’s voice. “What?”
“No one could have known Colin’s intent. And there’s no guarantee you could have prevented his suicide. Even if you’d visited him last night.”
“You don’t know that. You know nothing about Colin, or me—or the life we’ve led since you left town.”
“Maybe not, but I do know about suicide. Don’t heap blame onto yourself.”
The captain of the cutter’s voice blared through a megaphone. “Hello. Anyone injured?”
“We’re fine,” Ace hollered, his gaze fixed on Brenna. He paddled the raft over to the cutter.
Once aboard, they drank hot soup and wrapped up in wool blankets. Brenna sat on a chair inside the cabin and let Ace handle all the questions.
Ace leaned against the rail and tried to get a handle on the latest happenings. Brenna stayed huddled beneath the heavy, gray wool blanket. She was too damn calm for his peace of mind. Apathetic would be a better description. A fighting, spitting Brenna he could understand. This listless, unconcerned woman made him uncomfortable.
To what dark place had her mind escaped? A medic had declared them both fit so he knew she wasn’t in shock. Right now she blamed herself for Colin’s death. It was only a matter of time before she shifted the blame to him.
The drug mystery surrounding Spruce Harbor continued to grow more complex. Talks with county sheriffs hadn’t shed much light. They believed that much of drugs brought into the area was transported out of the state and sold in southern New England. He supposed that might be the case. Users like the Shay’s accepted heroin in payment for driving the drugs south.
It still didn’t explain why someone wanted Brenna out of the picture. Other than Anson, she hadn’t pissed anyone off. At least not that he knew about. Nothing added up. She’d not been involved in Colin’s dealings. He’d bet his life on that.
If someone wanted her dead, the day he broke into her home would have been a perfect time to kill her. Had the perp heard Ace arrive and fled before he accomplished the deed?
He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his gaze out to sea. He’d been crazy to think he could return to Spruce Harbor as an unbiased DEA agent. He should take himself off the assignment. Tell the Agency to send another agent.
His cell vibrated against his chest. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the incoming number. “Any news?” he asked Byron Flaherty, a computer hacker who worked for the DEA. The guy was an expert at finding out just about anything in the cyber world.
“No other babies born in the eastern half of Maine on the night in question.”
“Deaths?” Ace held his breath.
“Zilch. Nada.”
A long hiss of relief escaped Ace’s lungs. “Thanks, Byron. I owe you. I’ve got one more thing.”
He pulled the cell away from his ear to avoid the loud groan from the phone. “Jesus, Ace. I’ve got other assignments on my plate and—”
“I know. But I can’t take the time right now to do the research myself. Besides, even if I had the time, it’d take me five times as long as it takes you.” Silence greeted Ace’s praise. “How about a free weekend for you and Cindy at that getaway place on the shore that you like so much?”
Ace banked on Byron not being able to refuse a way to impress his latest girlfriend and sighed with relief at Byron’s response. “All right. What is it?”
Ace told the computer geek what he needed. He’d no sooner disconnected the call than the phone rang again. Hairs on the back of his neck bristled while he listened to the results of the preliminary autopsies performed on Roger and Shawna Shay. Ninety-nine percent pure heroin showed up in their blood. Now there was lethal heroin on the street. This put an entirely new spin on the situation.
If he didn’t find the source soon, there’d be a lot more dead bodies turning up. Word needed to get out there fast. At a slight jolt of the boat, he looked up, surprised they’d arrived at the pier. Putting his thoughts on hold, he started toward Brenna.
A young, sandy-haired man charged down the pier. “Where is she? Where’s Brenna?”
A crew member pointed to the small enclosed area where Brenna sat, still hunched over. The stranger bolted toward her.
The old green-eyed monster stabbed Ace. He rested against the rail and watched the man drop to his knee and grab Brenna’s hands. News in Spruce Harbor traveled faster than the Coast Guard. By now, p
robably the entire town knew that the Desperado had exploded and rested at the bottom of the ocean. And that Colin McKenzie had taken his own life. Spreading the word about lethal heroin on the streets should be easy.
“Excuse me,” Ace said as he elbowed in front of the newcomer.
Anger flashed across the man’s face. “Who are you?”
Brenna rose and dropped the blanket on the bench. “Trent, this is Ace Bear. Ace, Trent Peirce. He’s the veterinarian in the area.”
Trent bristled like a pit bull, protecting his territory.
“How’d you get here so fast?” Brenna asked.
“I was at the farm when your mother got the call. Come on. I’ll take you home.”
As much as Ace hated Trent Peirce taking Brenna anywhere, he had things to do. “Thanks, Peirce. Mind staying with her until I get to the farm?”
That earned him a nasty glare from Brenna, as well as the vet. Brenna opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind and walked away with Trent hot on her trail.
Chapter Ten
Ace cursed the rose thorns clinging to his jeans as he maneuvered the path to Mrs. Pinkham’s house. The front stairs were in dire need of repair. Didn’t the old lady have someone to help her?
His hand was in midair to knock when the door squeaked open. There stood Mrs. Pinkham, his fifth grade teacher. One of the few who’d shown him nothing but kindness.
She squinted as if she could better see him through small slits. Her thin lips curved into the huge smile he remembered. The blue eyes opened wider and twinkled. “I swear, Ace Bear, you’re a sight for sore eyes. What brings you back to these parts?”
“Wanted to visit my favorite teacher.”
Her blue-veined hand swatted his arm. “Get out. You always did like to flatter the ladies.”
She opened the door wider. “Come in and sit a spell. Tell me what you’ve been up to all these years.”
Ace followed her into the living room. “Not much to tell.” He sank onto a chair that turned out to be as uncomfortable as it looked.
“Hogwash. I don’t believe that.” Ethel Pinkham sat primly on the couch, her feet crossed at the ankles and her hands folded in her lap. “Just like I don’t believe for a second you came back to see an old teacher.”
Bed of Lies Page 8