Suspicion At Sea

by Nichols, Amie

  It doesn't take me long to catch up with her and soon we are at the top. She shields her eyes from the sun with her hand as she scans the horizon.

  “Wow, this is amazing,” she remarks with wonder.

  “Yeah,” I mumble, looking at her and not the view.

  “Is that the boat?” She points in the direction of the shipyard, and right there, still in the water, is The Sweet Suzy with yellow police tape roping it off.

  “Yep.”

  “Why would they let it sit out in the elements, any evidence would be tainted? Not to mention, anyone could board it,” she questions, turning to me for answers.

  “I don't know for sure, but I heard there is a crack in the hull. They were afraid the stress of taking her out of the water would break her apart.” I squat, resting one elbow on my knee and reach down to pick up a small rock, tossing it from one hand to the other.

  “I still think it would be better to risk it. What if they suspect foul play? No way would any evidence would be submissible in court,” she blurts out in disdain.

  “Government, huh?” I gaze up at her, remembering the way she handled herself in the bar with Jake Coons.

  “Yeah.” She turns away from me and looks out over the water.

  “Why so secretive? Who do you work for, the CIA or something?” I joke, standing next to her, chucking the rock as hard as I can so it lands in the water. She doesn't say anything, just focuses in the direction of the rock I just threw. “Do you?” The look on her face is telling me I'm close.

  “No, not the CIA,” she laughs, waving it off like I'm being silly. “Race you to the bottom.” She changes the subject once again and starts jumping down the rocks. I watch her for a moment then start after her, determined not to be beaten by a girl. I pass her and hop off the last rock onto the sand just as she reaches the bottom stone. I turn around and face her triumphantly as she stands about a foot higher than me on the large rock.

  Grabbing her by the waist, I lift her up off the rock and hold her there, staring into her eyes.

  “Why won't you tell me where you work?” I ask. She pushes on my shoulders, and starts laughing. “I kind of like you, and I would like to know more about you,” I tell her as she stops struggling and gets serious.

  “You kind of like me?” she repeats.

  “Yeah, I kind of like you, a lot.” I slide her down so her face is even with mine. Her breath hitches, our lips inches from touching.

  “I'm an FBI agent,” she whispers, her eyes watching me.

  “Really?” I put her down. “You're not here investigating the disappearance are you?” I am suddenly suspicious as all her questions come to mind.

  “No, God no,” she instantly says. “I swear, I'm here on vacation. I didn't know anything about it until I got here.” She senses my change and reaches out to touch my arm.

  “You've just been kind of elusive.” I look down at her hand on my forearm.

  “That has nothing to do with anything other than a woman being careful.” She drops her hand and crosses her arms over her chest. “Do most women you meet spill their life history to you in the first hour?” Now the tide changes as she starts to get feisty about it. “Do you want my bank account number, or how about my social?” She is getting fierier right before my eyes and I laugh, it's innocent and sexy at the same time.

  “Okay, I'm sorry.” I can't stop laughing as she fumes. I bend at the knees and wrap my arms around her waist again, this time throwing her over my shoulder. “Do I need to throw you in the ocean to cool you off?”

  “Justin, put me down.” I can hear amusement in her voice so I don't put her down, but start walking toward the water, and she wraps her arms around my chest.

  “Just so you know, if I'm going in so are you.” She has a death grip on me and I have no doubt that she will not be letting go. It doesn't stop me as I continue to walk into the water.

  “Justin,” she squeals as the cold Atlantic Ocean hits her legs. She'll have to let go when her head hits the water. At least that's what I think, but she doesn't and I'm totally submerged before I let go of her tiny waist. This woman is stubborn and I love it. She comes up from the cold water for air, inhaling deep. I pull on her arm to bring her back to me when she struggles in the waves. I'm anchored, being used to the waves, and her body smashes into mine. Once again we are face to face.

  “I can't believe you did that,” she shrieks, holding on to my biceps to stay above water. I just smile. The result is twofold; first it got her to calm down, second she is wearing a white t-shirt. Her white, lacy bra shows her breasts, and her hard nipples from the frigid water. She looks down seeing that I can't stop ogling her perfect breasts, and she pushes off me, swimming toward shore. She stops first to dunk her head back so that her hair is out of her face, and walks out of the water, sitting on the sand to take offher soaking wet tennis shoes.

  I sit next to her doing the same. We sit in silence for a moment until I can't handle it anymore. I turn to her and see her staring at the side of my face. Water droplets still dripping from her face and hair, I turn my body and reach up, cupping her face. This will be the third time we've almost kissed in an hour and I'm not letting this moment get away from me.

  Chapter 16

  Ellie

  I want him to kiss me more than I want to breathe at this moment. The things my body is screaming at me are deafening. I've had such an array of emotions in the past few hours that it's exhausting. He has my face in his hands as he closes the distance. Our lips touch, soft at first. I reach out for him, my hand going into his hair as his lips part. His tongue brushes my lower lip, pushing to get inside. I let him in, tasting the saltiness of the ocean on our lips as he explores my mouth, pushing harder on my lips. Our breathing is heavy as we both seem to not be able to get enough.

  His lips leave mine, trailing kisses across my jaw to behind my ear. My mouth opens as I inhale and exhale, letting out a light moan from the amazing feeling. My hands fist his hair as his lips reach my neck, lightly brushing along the collar of my V-neck tee, and I want more. But he stops, slowly moving away from me, leaving me heaving and catching my breath. I'm at a loss as to why he stopped, but realize fast when I hear kids screaming. I was so caught up in the moment I didn't even notice the family that has now joined us on the beach.

  “Public beach,” he exhales, letting me go completely and we both stare forward out into the water.

  “I guess we should go,” I whisper.

  “Yeah, I just need a second.” He smiles, quickly glancing down. I blush then blush harder when I see the large bulge in his pants. It does something to me, something I've never experienced. It turns me on so much I think I have a tiny orgasm, making the heat on my face burn even more.

  I giggle like a schoolgirl. A nervous 'oh my' type of laugh.

  “You like that?” He chuckles with me. I just nod, putting my hand up to my mouth to try and stifle the laughter. “You're very lucky there are children present, woman, because you wouldn't be laughing. You'd be screaming my name in pleasure,” he says with a dark intensity in his eyes. His words make me want that very much. Biting my lower lip, I see him watching my mouth. It is definitely time to go when I don't care who's present, and I want him to make me scream his name.

  I get up and brush the sand from my butt, knowing that my white t-shirt is clinging to me. I see the husband of the family now sitting on a beach towel has noticed it also. Justin glances from me to the man and his jaw tightens. I cross my arms in front of my chest avoiding the dirty look I'm getting from the wife and walk toward the Jeep holding in my laughter.

  Apparently, the attack of jealousy he had from the thirty-something husband was enough to rid him of his excitement, because he climbs into the Jeep just seconds after me.

  “I think I should get back. I don't have my phone and I should check my messages.” I fight with myself, not wanting to leave him but I feel it's best. I feel like I could fall for this guy easily, and that is not the smartest thing f
or me right now.

  He just nods. It is obvious he is disappointed, but God love him for not pressuring me because it wouldn't take too much effort on his part. There's a very small thread holding my integrity together at the moment.

  We drive back in silence, the wind drying my clothes and my hair as we go. I can just imagine what it looks like right now and gather it in my hands to put it in a messy pony tail using the hair tie around my wrist.

  Around three p.m., we stop on the roadside of the B&B.

  “If you're not busy tomorrow I have something I would love to show you,” Justin says before I climb out of the Jeep.

  “Umm,” I hesitate for a moment.

  “Consider it more sightseeing.” He tilts his head to the side giving me a pleading look that makes me laugh.

  “I would love that.” What the hell. What else am I going to do? “Do you have a pen? I'll give you my number.” He's so cute as he scrambles, searching the Jeep for a pen and finally finding one in the glove box. I take his hand and turn it over to write my number on his palm. I don't want to let go of him, so I take my time writing the digits neatly. Handing him back his pen, I slowly let go of him then step out of the Jeep.

  “Ellie,” he yells as I reach the sidewalk. He gets out, walking to me and bends at the knees to be at eye level. Taking my face in his hand, he lightly kisses my lips then stands straight, giving me a dimpled smile that is so big it melts my heart. Yep, I'm screwed.

  “Bye,” I whisper, turning back toward the B&B and walking slowly. My knees feel weak and I don't want to face plant as he watches me until I'm safely inside.

  I get in my room and turn on my laptop. While it's booting up I use the bathroom. As I exit the bathroom, I see the door to my room is open. I could have sworn I locked it when I came in. I go to the door and glance up and down the hallway lit by sunlight streaming through the window at the end of the hall. It is empty. I shut and lock the door, throwing the chain on as well for good measure. Why am I so suspicious? Last night I felt as though someone was watching me when I looked out the window, then the man on the bench, now this. I must have not latched the door.

  The shrill ring of the room phone makes me jump.

  “Ah, for crying out loud. Ellie, get your shit together,” I say out loud to myself, sitting on the bed to answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Marks, this is Esther, the owner of the house,” she explains to me, which makes me think of Justin and his cuckoo comment.

  “Yes, hi,” I say, knowing full well who she is without the explanation.

  “I just wanted to let you know that there is a small tropical storm headed our way. It shouldn't be too bad, but I'm advising all the guests to stay inside,” she tells me in a motherly tone.

  "Okay, thank you.” It hits me that a couple days ago she said I was the only guest. “Umm, wait. Did you say guests, is there someone else staying here?”

  “Yes, just showed up this morning wanting to know if I had a room available. Very nice man,” she says, hanging up abruptly before I have a chance to ask her about him. I sit holding the phone in my hand. Now I know I'm being paranoid. I'm suspicious of a random tourist. I hang up the phone, and as if on cue, the sun shining through my window is gone as clouds move in.

  Moving back, I sit up in the bed with my laptop on my legs. I barely get the internet browser open when my cell rings. I see it is a local number and I get butterflies thinking it's Justin.

  “Hello?” I answer in the sweetest voice I have.

  “Hey, it's me, Justin.” God, does he have a sexy phone voice. “I just heard that we are in a tropical storm warning.” The phone has a little static and I hear thunder in the distance.

  “Yes, I heard that also.”

  “I just wanted you to know that it should be fine, but close your curtains just in case the glass breaks. The curtains will stop the glass from flying in the room. Not that I think it will be that bad.” Oh my God, he is so cute. He is trying to keep me safe and comfort me at the same time. I'm surprised he hasn't offered to come over and protect me. I would like that very much actually, too much. So I'm relieved when he doesn't offer.

  “I will, thank you,” I tell him, a little less enthusiastic. I don't want the temptation, but yet I do.

  “If you get scared, or if you need anything, call me. You now have my number. I have to go get my boat ready, but can I call you later?” he asks, making me melt into the bed.

  “Yes, please.” Geez, I sound like a fucking schoolgirl. I roll my eyes to myself. “Be careful,” I make sure to tell him before he gets off the phone.

  I sit and stare at the phone for a moment, my emotions on a roller coaster. I try and shake him off before turning my attention back to my laptop. Crap, the internet is out, probably because of the storm. I shut it down and put it off to the side. With the darkness in the room and the rumbles of thunder, this is a great time for a nap. I settle in and drift off to sleep in no time.

  Chapter 17

  Justin

  The wind is picking up as I tie down my boat with stronger rope, making sure that all sides are secure.

  “Hey, son.” I look up to see my father walking at a fast pace down the dock.

  “What are you doing here?” I'm puzzled as to why my father would be coming to the docks just before a tropical storm. He should be making sure that residents are aware and that people return to their homes.

  “The McAlistars are out of town, I was just checking to make sure their boat is secure. I could use your help,” he says, patting my shoulder as he continues down the dock.

  “Sure, Dad, be there in a second.” He stops in his tracks and I know why. I called him Dad. I haven't called him anything other than Sheriff or asshole for the past ten years. I'm just as shocked as he is because I don't know where it came from. Stopping what I'm doing, I follow my old man down the dock. He turns to me giving me a fatherly smile, something else that hasn’t happened for a long time.

  I instruct him as to what to do and board the boat to throw over the bumper pads. He's struggling with tying the rope to the cleat so I jump out of the boat to show him a proper cleat hitch.

  “Thanks, son.” He moves on to the next cleat while I go back to tighten up and fix the ones he has already done. For someone that has lived on an island for thirty years, you'd think he would know a simple nautical knot. When I'm sure the boat is secure, we walk back toward mine.

  “You shouldn't stay on your boat during the storm. Come with me to the station,” he offers awkwardly, putting one hand in his front pocket as we reach my slip.

  “I'll be fine, you know that,” I tell him, then suddenly remember the intruder from last night. “Have you had any reports of break-ins, or a stranger lurking around?” I quickly ask before he takes off.

  “No, why?” He rests his other hand on his gun belt.

  “Someone was on my boat last night. He didn't take anything, but I think I interrupted him,” I try to explain, but a loud crash of thunder drowns me out. “Never mind, you get going before the storm comes,” I instruct, wanting him to get inland before it gets too bad.

  “Come to the station and file a report, I'll look into it,” he says, not seeming concerned at all. Not that I want him to be, I more or less wanted to find out if anyone else has reported anything.

  “Yeah,” I dismiss his comment. He knows as well as I do that I'm not going to file a report. I watch him walk down the dock and get into his sheriff's car.

  The storm is not severe, but it lasts well into the evening. I spend it on my boat. The waves don't bother me, in fact, I usually find them comforting. Not this time, though. I can't seem to stop worrying about Ellie, thinking she could be scared. I pick up my phone to call her a few times, but have no signal. I wander aimlessly from room to room, trying to find something to take my mind off her. If she were scared, or even tried to get ahold of me, she couldn't.

  I can tell she is feeling something for me also, but is hell bent on fightin
g it. I hope she stops, because I can't imagine letting her get away from me without fucking her. God, that sounds horrible. It's obvious that we are from two different worlds but the chemistry is so amazing, out-of-this-world mind blowing. I can't envision not trying my hardest, it would be criminal not to.

  When there is a lull in the storm, I walk to the edge of the dock, just far enough to see that the B&B looks fine.

  As I turn to go back to my boat, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning back around as fast as I can, it is gone. The wind is whipping a flag, making a shadow from the street light. I'm just being suspicious now, seeing things that aren't there. Watching that direction for a minute and not seeing any movement in the darkness, I head back to my boat.

  After another hour of worthless wandering around my boat, I sit, frustrated. What I really want to do is go to her, make sure she is okay and not frightened. Why am I so worried about this? She is a grown woman, a fucking FBI agent for Christ’s sake. The wind can really howl, and what islanders think is not that bad, a first timer might not think the same. I fight the urge, not wanting to be overbearing.

  By eight p.m., there is still no signal and I lose my battle with staying away. The pull this woman has on me is like nothing I've ever felt. Since the minute I saw her on the deck of the B&B, I've thought of almost nothing else. Even though it is still raining heavily, I make the small trek to the B&B and am soaking wet by the time I arrive.

  Esther is in a rocking chair in the sitting room when I walk in.

  “Well, Justin Bennett, did you come to check on us?” Her face beams when she sees me. “Oh, you are dripping wet,” she squeals, as water starts to pool on the floor where I stand. “Don't you move, boy.” She gets out of her chair and rushes to the back room. “At least the son of the Sheriff is concerned about Bailey Island's residents in a storm, since the man himself is obviously not.” She returns with a towel, spouting her distaste for my father. I know he has never done anything to her personally, she just has a dislike for authority in general.