By Sea

by Carly Fall

  He listened for a moment and realized the hum he had heard was a jet ski. The tap-tap-tap sounded again as the jet ski got louder. Some fucker was out there riding around shooting up his boat.

  He lifted up the bench and grabbed two handguns, hoping no one was hurt. He doubted it because the hull was reinforced, but he still needed to check the cameras.

  Glacial calm came over him as he glanced over at the cameras and saw the rest of the crew spilling out of their quarters. Jason wore a pair of boxers, while Heidi and Katie donned thigh-length nightshirts. Danny slipped on a shirt. All carried handguns.

  Rayna’s door flew open and Heidi handed her a gun, then pushed her toward Margarita’s room. There was a brief argument, but Rayna finally relented and slipped through the door to babysit Margarita.

  Brody turned and bounded down the stairs, meeting his crew in the Main Salon. “Let’s keep the lights off,” Brody ordered.

  “We’re under attack,” Jason whispered, staring out the port side windows into the night. The guy was usually easygoing, but Brody was relieved to see he looked very serious and dangerous, even just standing around in his boxers.

  “No shit, Jason,” Heidi muttered, her back against Jason’s, her gaze and gun to the starboard side.

  The jet skier came by again, shooting at the Salon windows. Even though the windows were bullet proof, Brody and the crew all hit the ground on instinct. Sweat trickled down Brody’s brow and his heart thudded in his chest. He continued to remain calm, and was happy to see the bulletproof glass held and did its job. Standing, he glanced outside. Clouds hid the moon, making the water around the boat completely black. They couldn’t see the perpetrator out in the dark night, and turning the lights on only made them a bigger, better target as the shooter would be able to see motion inside the boat. They were best to gauge where he was solely by sound, and the low hum indicated that he wasn’t near the boat.

  “I’m going out the back deck in case he decides to come back,” Brody said. “Katie, you’re with me.”

  She gave him a nod. He’d never had a problem with women in uniform. During his service, he found most of them more than competent and often on their game more than the men as they felt they had more to prove.

  Katie and he bent down and slipped out the back, Katie taking the starboard side while he took the port. Both crouched as they listened for the bastard to come closer.

  The thick, humid night air clung to Brody’s skin mingling with his own sweat, and he realized he must have slept as a storm came through. He stared out into the inky blackness and clicked off the safety of his gun, taking a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

  The hum of the jet ski’s engine got closer, and Brody realized the perpetrator was coming up his side of the boat. Brody stood slowly as he approached and could make out the outline of the shooter whizzing by on the jet ski. Brody got off two shots, and the jet ski turned sharply. Brody fired again and the man let out a muffled scream and took off out of the bay.

  Brody stood in place for a moment, wiped the sweat from his brow while making sure the assailant was truly gone and not coming around for another attempt.

  “I think you hit him,” Katie said, coming up behind Brody.

  Brody nodded, certain he had. Apparently it wasn’t enough to incapacitate the bastard, though. Letting out a long breath, Brody felt his anger rise at the situation. The whole attack felt very professional. The shooter had great aim and his purpose had obviously been to incapacitate the boat as he shot at the windows, hull and engine. Brody guessed his next move would have been to actually board the boat and make sure everyone was dead. The boat rocked as the ocean registered his anger.

  No, this wasn’t some crazed fan out for the love of his life. This was something more, and he could only think of one thing: the attack wasn’t about Margarita; this was about him.

  He remembered the way Rayna had been distant all day, and how she seemed almost sad when they said goodnight.

  “That felt professional to me,” Katie murmured, mirroring his thoughts.

  “I’m going downstairs to make sure our guests are okay. Have Jason do a damage check on the engine room, you, Danny and Heidi check the rest of the boat.”

  As he headed inside, he took another deep breath, calming himself. Thankfully, they were all alive, but someone had some explaining to do.

  Chapter 36

  Rayna sat with Margarita, who chewed on her nails. The shooting had stopped, and Rayna didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was everyone upstairs dead, or had the shooter left?

  She heard footsteps descending to their level, and stood, aiming the gun at the door. There was a loud knock and she pulled back the hammer, surprised by how calm she felt. She could handle the situation.

  “It’s me,” Brody said. “Don’t shoot.”

  Rayna sighed, un-cocked the gun, set it down on the dresser and went to the door.

  Brody’s eyes glittered with fury, his features hard and angry.

  “Everyone okay?” he asked, his tone harsh.

  “Yes,” Rayna answered as Brody looked past her to Margarita, who still sat on the bed.

  “I’m fine,” Margarita said, her eyes wide.

  Brody nodded and said, “I need to talk to you, Rayna. Alone.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, but grabbed her hand and pulled her into her own room, slamming the door behind them.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Brody paced the room and Rayna leaned up against the wall to balance herself against the rocking of the boat.

  “That wasn’t a fucking crazy fan,” Brody hissed. “That was professional.”

  Shock registered in Rayna, and she put her hand over her heart. Professional?

  “So, if it wasn’t a fan, and it was someone who knew what they were doing, that leads me to believe there’s only one explanation for all of this.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You. You are here to turn me in, aren’t you? You were just going to let them kill everyone on the boat to get to me?”

  Completely caught by surprise, Rayna couldn’t say anything as she tried to process Brody’s words, and she was certain she’d never seen such rage coming from another person. For a moment, she almost wished she still held her gun.

  He took her silence as an affirmative. “That’s what I thought,” he hissed. “The big CIA agent goes undercover to get the missing military freak show guy. You are a piece of work, girl.”

  “Brody—”

  “The big question is … how did you give them our location? The computers are locked up, but I’m sure they teach you skills like how to pick locks right after they teach you about fucking your target.”

  “No, I—“

  He stepped up to her, trapping her between the wall and his big frame. Mere inches separated them. “I can’t believe you went so far as to fuck me to get my trust. You are a goddamned slut who will do anything to climb the CIA ladder, aren’t you?”

  His words cut deep, and she was once again rendered speechless.

  “You, Ms. Hot CIA agent, are a bitch of epic proportions, and I’m trying really hard not to put a bullet in your head.”

  That cut through her mind fog, and her anger rose. Before she knew what she was doing, she slapped him across the face.

  Surprised, he took a step back, his fingers grazing his cheek.

  “Don’t you ever talk to me that way,” she hissed. “And if you’d let me get a word in edgewise, you’d see how flawed your assumption is.”

  Brody chuckled. “Okay, Rayna, let’s hear you talk your way out of this one.”

  The rocking of the boat slowed as Brody sat down on the bed. Rayna took a deep breath. “I had nothing to do with the shooting,” she said. “I’ve told you this multiple times, and I’ll tell you again: I’m here for my sister.”

  Brody shook his head, stood and began to pace the small space. “Don’t believe it,” he snapped.

  “It’s
true, Brody!”

  “Nope. All the signs were there, Rayna. You spend some time with me, get to know me a little bit, strut around in a few bikinis, show me just a little bit of yourself besides the uptight CIA agent, and then move in for the kill when I least expect it. You really are heartless.”

  “Brody, that’s not what happened!” Rayna exclaimed.

  He stopped in front of her. “Yeah, you probably felt a little guilty about it tonight, and that’s why you looked so sad and didn’t want to sleep with me, right? And that’s why Margarita all of a sudden decided to sleep downstairs, correct? She’d be safe down there when the bullets started to fly. Too bad you didn’t know about the reinforcements that have been done on the boat, isn’t it? If it weren’t for them, you’d be tip-toeing through bodies right now.”

  Rayna shook her head, not believing the words coming from his mouth. She didn’t even know what point to argue first, or if she could even actually convince him of her innocence. She had no idea who had sent their assailant.

  “Do they teach you to be that cold and manipulative in the CIA, or is that something that comes naturally to you?” he asked, sitting on the bed again.

  She gazed at him, so many emotions rumbling through her: sadness, anger and fear. How could she make him see she was blameless in this?

  She sat down next to him so they were shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t move to put space between them, so she considered it a good sign. “Brody, I’m here for my sister,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “I would never do anything to hurt you, or any of the crew. You have to believe me.”

  He didn’t answer, and she took a deep breath. “I was upset earlier tonight because I-I have feelings for you, and I know that we can’t be together.”

  Standing he strode toward the door. “You’re amazing,” he grumbled.

  “No,” she said. “Please don’t leave. Hear me out.” She wasn’t responsible for the attack, and she highly doubted Brody and the crew would stage an assault on their own boat, unless there was some type of crew politics she didn’t know about.

  “I’ve got to assess the damage to the boat,” Brody snarled.

  That left one person who could be responsible.

  “Brody, please. From what I could hear and what you told me, I think it was a professional hit as well.” That was the point that unsettled her the most. Professional could describe a number of different organizations such as the mafia, the military, the government, and the Cartel.

  “Great. Glad we agree on that. You’re to stay in here until we get back to St. Thomas, and then I’ll let my boss decide what should be done with you.”

  “Wait, Brody,” she said, standing and going to the door. She laid her hand on his arm. “Please. I swear to you it’s not me. Why would I put my sister in danger? If it’s not me, and you’re certain that none of your crew would have a reason to want everyone else dead, there’s only one other person on this boat who could be responsible.”

  He stared at her a moment, confusion overriding anger. “Your sister? What’s she doing, running from the mafia? Trying to get you killed for inheritance money?”

  Rayna shrugged, trying not to let him see her discomfort. “I don’t know, Brody. But I think you and I need to go find out.”

  Chapter 37

  Brody gazed down into Rayna’s grey eyes, his anger dissipating a little bit. He wanted to believe her, but there wasn’t any other option as to who was responsible, besides Rayna. However, she had just thrown one his way, and he owed it to his sanity to talk to Margarita.

  He wanted to trust Rayna and believe that what they had shared together was real; however, he found it hard to swallow. He had been looking at the easiest answer, but maybe the answer wasn’t so apparent. Obviously, there were things that he didn’t know about Rayna, and he knew even less about Margarita.

  “Fine,” he said, opening the door, “let’s go talk to her.”

  They found Margarita in the Main Salon drinking wine. She rocked back and forth on the white couch looking worried.

  “We need to talk to you,” Brody said, pulling a dining room chair over and sitting down, crossing his ankle over his knee. Rayna sat by Margarita on the sofa.

  “Not now,” Margarita mumbled, standing.

  “Yes, now,” Rayna said, grabbing her arm and pulling her back down.

  Margarita sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m exhausted, Rayna. I just want to go back to bed and forget this horrible night.”

  “If you’re up for drinking wine at 3 a.m., then you can sit here and talk to us for a few minutes. All of us are tired, Margarita, so put on your big girl panties and act your age for a moment.”

  If he wasn’t so angry, he would have smiled. He liked the way Rayna didn’t tiptoe around her sister, as he guessed most of the people in her life did.

  Rayna began to talk to Margarita in Spanish, and Brody interrupted her. “Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Full English. I want to know everything that’s being said.”

  Rayna gazed at him a moment, hung her head and sighed. “Okay, Brody,” she murmured, turning her attention to Margarita.

  “Papa said you had a crazed fan after you and that’s why we’re here, so that you would be safe while the fan was taken care of,” Rayna said.

  Margarita tensed and wouldn’t meet Rayna’s gaze. “That’s correct,” she muttered.

  “Crazed fans don’t follow the object of their affection half way across the globe and ride up on the boat with a machine gun trying to kill everyone, Margarita. I think there’s more to your story than you’ve told anyone, including Papa.”

  “No, what I said was the truth,” Margarita said, taking a sip of wine.

  “I don’t believe you,” Rayna murmured.

  Margarita turned to her, sitting up straight. “You don’t believe me? Are you not my sister, the one who is supposed to love me? The one Papa sent here to protect me?”

  “Don’t try to turn this into something it’s not, or take the spotlight off yourself. I am your sister and Papa did send me here to protect you, but I don’t think you’ve told the truth, Margarita.”

  Rayna took Margarita’s hand in her own. “Obviously Brody and the crew don’t want anyone firing on their boat, so them ordering the hit doesn’t make any sense. That leaves you and me. I’m here to protect you, nothing more. I know I’m not responsible for this, so that leaves you.”

  “I don’t want to kill anyone!” Margarita shrieked.

  “I never said you did,” Rayna said, her voice gentle as if she were talking to a child. “But maybe you know who does.”

  Margarita sat very still for a moment, and then burst into tears. Rayna glanced at Brody as she put her arm around her sister.

  Brody leaned forward, feeling awful for the way he’d doubted Rayna and the way he talked to her. However, curiosity ate at him. What did a spoiled narcissistic entertainer have going on to attract an assassination attempt?

  Chapter 38

  “I started dating this man about six months ago,” Margarita began. “He was darling, funny, and he worshipped me. He made me feel loved.”

  Brody sat back in his chair. Apparently, he was going to have to listen to all the emotional bullshit before she got to the facts. After describing the whirlwind romance consisting of flowers, impromptu trips, making love on the beach, and snuggling up after her concerts with a bottle of wine, Margarita was in love.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Rayna asked.

  Margarita glanced over at Brody, her eyes red and puffy, and then met her sister’s gaze. “I didn’t want you to be jealous. I know you don’t have much in your life.”

  Rayna flinched slightly and didn’t look at Brody.

  “So what happened then?” Brody asked.

  “I found out who he really was,” Margarita sobbed.

  “And who would that be?” Brody asked.

  “Miguel DiMarco,” Margarita whispered as she looked at Rayna.

  Rayna’s
face paled. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Margarita shook her head and continued to cry.

  “What happened then?” Rayna asked.

  “I broke up with him! I couldn’t let Papa know I’d been dating him! He chased me for a week or so telling me he didn’t want to let me go.”

  “Didn’t he tell you his name when you started dating him?”

  “Yes, but never in a million years did I think this gorgeous, lively man would be that Miguel DiMarco!”

  “Oh, Margarita,” Rayna murmured, putting her head in her hands. “What happened after you broke up with him?”

  “The last time I saw him, he said he was going to kill me because he couldn’t watch me move on with my life without him.”

  “Wait a minute. Who’s Miguel DiMarco?” Brody asked. The surname scratched at his brain, but he couldn’t place why.

  Rayna sighed, starting at the floor. A moment later she met his gaze. “Miguel DiMarco is the son of José DiMarco, the head of the DiMarco Cartel.”

  Stunned, Brody could only stared at Rayna. His stomach twisted when she looked as if she had more to say.

  “He is the rival of our father, Daniel Gomez, of the Gomez Cartel.”

  Brody sat back in his chair, stunned. When the explosion that had changed his life occurred, it was the Gomez Cartel warehouse they were investigating. How was that for karma, or fate?

  “Then the bad things began to happen,” Margarita sobbed, “like my kitty being murdered, my house being broken into, the roses covered in blood . . . everything started to happen after that.”

  Rayna stroked her sister’s arm, but Brody could see the anger glistening in her eyes. “And you told Papa you had a crazed fan,” she said.

  Margarita nodded. “I wasn’t totally lying—he was crazy. I didn’t want to get in trouble with Papa for dating him, and I didn’t want a war to start between the Cartels.”

  “Do you think Miguel knew who you were?” Rayna asked.