Hurricane

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Hurricane Page 11

by Cherry Adair


  Hope for a future with her had been his lifeline. Addy was a born mother. There’d be other children. He wanted them to be his, damn it. His children, like Sophia had been his daughter. The sweet, beautiful baby girl who had disappeared from their lives in one god-awful moment that had turned him into a running-scared, heartless monster. He wanted Addy to be happy again and he wanted to be the reason for their happiness.

  Gold? Silver? Diamonds?

  At one time nothing would have mattered more.

  He glanced across the table at the woman who was his reason for living.

  Seeing her at the other end of the table, remote and distant, not only from him, but from the world around her, gave him the answer in one heated lightning flash. Not for one fucking second.

  This was about his life.

  All the damn treasure maps and ocean charts in the world wouldn’t help him with this one. He’d already found the only treasure that mattered. He just had to figure out how to reclaim her.

  * * *

  Tesoro Mio was capable of speeds up to eighteen knots in calm conditions. And God only knew, Ry wanted to get to the wreck as quickly as possible. But now with the sea running six to nine feet, Tony Seddeth had cautioned against using top speed. The wind was directly on the bow, the ship meeting the seas head-on at twelve knots. Ry trusted the captain he’d hired. While he himself knew every inch of the ship from plans, schematics, and detailed drawings, Seddeth knew her structure and performance from bow to stern.

  The floor seemed to undulate beneath his feet as the ship pitched and rolled. Ry lifted his fist to pound on Addy’s door, then hesitated before making contact.

  Seddeth’ s voice came over the PA. “This is the captain. This is not a drill. Passengers and crew please gather in the main lounge immediately. Repeat: Passengers and crew to the main lounge. Immediately.”

  The Indian Coast Guard had made it in record time.

  In various stages of sleepwear, Kevin and Lenka, followed closely by MoMo and Georgeo, emerged from their cabins and headed for the stairs. As they passed him. Kev said, “What hell’s going on?”

  Ry looked beyond the small group. He frowned. “Where’s Sam?”

  “Here.” Samuel caught up with the others, pulling a T-shirt over his head.

  “Get up top,” Ry instructed his dive team. “I’ll be right there to fill you in.” They were all okay, and he breathed a sigh of profound relief to see them looking sleepy and disheveled coming out of their cabins.

  “Is Addy—?” MoMo demanded, face white as he looked from Ry to Addison’s closed door.

  Poor bastard had been in love with Addy almost as long as Ry had. “As far as I know she’s getting her beauty sleep. Just came to hurry her along. Go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

  After a few exchanged glances, they hotfooted it down the corridor, then disappeared up the stairs at the end of the hallway.

  Ry pounded his fist on Addy’s door. God only knew, the dickwad could be in her bed. The last thing Ry needed was a memory of the two of them in a clinch engraved in his brain forfuckingever. Still, Darshi in her bed was a better option than discovering her gone. The hard thump-thump-pause-thump of his heart was pure fucking anxiety. Jesus—he really couldn’t go there …

  The heavy door snapped open. Abby, barefoot, dressed in bright-yellow shorts and a royal-blue tank top, face washed clean of makeup, hair brushed up into a high ponytail, looked breathtakingly beautiful and about sixteen years old.

  “Why have we stopped?” Her hands shot out on either side of her to grip the door frame to keep her balance as the ship rolled. “I saw the lights, are we sinking?” No panic, just calm and composed. Her tank top had little yellow smiley faces on it.

  Ry’s relief at seeing her, whole and hearty, was profound. Mouth fear-dry, it took a moment to speak. “Coast Guard. Man overboard.”

  Olive-green eyes wide, she put a hand to her throat. “Holy shit, Rydell! Did you push Naveen over?”

  He almost laughed. Damn. Should’ve thought of that. “No.”

  “Throw? Shove?” She gave him a suspicious look. “Otherwise persuade?”

  At least he now knew Darshi wasn’t in her cabin. “None of the above. Captain saw footage of two men in an altercation on the aft deck. One went over.” He glanced at her bare, slender feet with bright-orange polish on her pretty toes. Ry almost groaned. He loved her feet. “Want to put on shoes before we go up?”

  “No, I’m good. Let’s go.” She shot out a hand again to brace herself on the wall as Tesoro Mio dipped in a trough. Once steady, she shut her door. “Go ahead, I’ll wake Naveen.”

  “If he isn’t awake in this storm, he should be after that announcement.” He was probably taking the time to style his hair. “The authorities want to talk to the owners first. That’s us.”

  “The lights were the Coast Guard boat? All the way out here in this weather?” She fell into step beside him, the fragrance of her hair wrapping around him with sweet memories. Just the smell of Addy made Ry happy. Which was nuts.

  “A man overboard?” she said in an unnecessary stage whisper. “Horrific. What a terribly way to die. Do we know who it was?”

  “I’ve looked at the security footage half a dozen times. Impossible to tell who either of them were in the dark and rain. The ship’s movement doesn’t help.” The fact that all the lightbulbs had been loosened prior to the fight was proof that this was no fucking accident.

  Ry hadn’t had a chance to meet with his security people, Jax and Oscar, yet. But Addy was first on his dance card. And he wasn’t letting her out of his sight until the person responsible was caught. “All we know for sure was that two men came to blows. We’ll see who’s missing when everyone reports to the lounge. Most of the crew is gathered up top already, in anticipation of the arrival of the Coast Guard.”

  Unless the killer had joined the other man over the rail, he was still on board.

  “Are you sure they were fighting? Maybe one guy was trying to hold on to the other when a wave hit.”

  “Then he was trying to hold him in a headlock.” Ry’s tone was dry. They moved closer together to take the stairs. Wanting to touch her, he stuffed his hands in his front pockets.

  “Shouldn’t you get dressed?” she asked, tone snippy.

  He looked down. “I’m dressed.”

  “Put a shirt on, I mean.”

  He’d stuffed a T-shirt into his back pocket on his way to the bridge, then not bothered to pull it on. “The only royalty on board is your prince, and he’s already seen my chest. Didn’t seem adversely affected by it.”

  “Have you been practicing being an ass?”

  A loose strand of shiny hair fluttered beside her check. A year ago he would’ve thought nothing of tucking it behind her ear. Of turning her in his arms and kissing her senseless, there on the dim curve of the stairs. “Nah.” He walked beside her, close but not touching. “Just comes naturally.” Liberating the shirt, he pulled it over his head. “There. Happy?”

  Addy just shook her head, sped up, and reached the lounge door two paces before he did. First Officer Badri Patil, who’d procured their fish dinner, was there with four men from the Indian authorities. They were speaking Hindi but switched to English for the introductions.

  The crew stood in one group, the dive team in another.

  Patil introduced the four men to Ry and Addy. Paras Sharma, the captain of police, was in charge. Patil offered to coordinate the one-on-one interviews in the dining room and a small library next door. Choudhri and Gollen went off with him.

  “Captain is waiting for us on the bridge,” Ry told Sharma and his second in command, Varma. “He has the surveillance tapes ready. I’ll be interested in your take.” Ry gestured. “This way, gentlemen.”

  Addy stayed by his side as they went up to the bridge. The two officers looked like matching bookends in their dark uniforms. They were almost the same height and build, and walked slightly behind them as they mounted the stairs to the bridge.<
br />
  Rydell glided his hand up the satin-smooth mahogany handrail he’d had hand-carved by an artisan in a small town in Thailand. He knew every inch of his ship. Had lived and breathed every detail for the two years it had taken to build her. He could navigate every inch of her with his eyes closed. Every curve, every dip, every satiny—

  Yeah. His mind went from silky wood, to silky skin. He knew every inch of that topography even better than he knew Tesoro Mio’s.

  “Captain—” Ry announced them since Seddeth had his back turned. The bridge was brightly lit; the sleek bridge system—with its multifunctional workstations, selected navigational data, radar, ECDIS, and conning—gleamed in the artificial lighting. Flat-screen PCs with state-of-the-art components had been selected with particular focus on function, but, damn, it was also pretty.

  The windows, pummeled by unrelenting rain-soaked night, were large black squares, reflecting the lights and the people inside. While Tesoro Mio sat still in the water, the Coast Guard ship was doing slow circles looking for the man overboard. Their bright lights strafed the room every now and then as they searched the dark water. An impossible task.

  Since Ry had left Seddeth, the captain had changed into his formal whites. Looking grim, he turned to greet Addy and the two officers. “Bad business, this.”

  The slightly older of the two police officers, Sharma, addressed Seddeth after they’d been introduced. “Have you been able to identify the two men, Captain?”

  “No, sir, and I’ll show you why.” Seddeth turned to the monitors. “I have the applicable surveillance video isolated. Location 7F—that’s the second aft deck. Time; twenty-three-hundred-fifteen hours. Everyone was supposed to be secured in their cabins in anticipation of the storm.”

  The second officer cast an admiring glance at the immaculate task-oriented multifunctional workstations and high-tech equipment, then focused on the captain. “Which crew members were on duty at that time?”

  “Several were tasked with securing the decks while the passengers ate diner. Haamid Malik, one of our deckhands, was the last to report in after his watch at twenty-two-hundred hours.”

  “How long has Malik been with you?”

  Seddeth shrugged. “I’d have to look at his file, but about seven months or so.”

  “Anyone else on board for less than a year?”

  “Everyone on board has been with us less than a year. The ship was taken from dry dock and put into operation in November last year. Omesh Chauhan has been with us the shortest amount of time. He’s our chief engineer. Had to hire a new engineer last month because our other man broke his leg in five places ziplining in Spain.”

  The officer punched out the information into his iPad. “Anyone else?”

  “No new crew members since we did our maiden voyage.”

  “Can you vouch for your dive crew, Mr. Case?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve known all of them for more than a decade.”

  “What about the prince and his employees?”

  Ry shook his head. “The prince—barely. His employees, not at all.”

  The officer looked at Addy. “He is your friend, yes?”

  “I’ve known him well for more than five years. There’s not a violent bone in his body,” Addy assured him. “I don’t know his men at all. Well, barely. They’re always with him, but unobtrusive.”

  The man turned back to the captain. “What were your orders re the impending storm?”

  “I ordered everyone to stay indoors for the duration as the storm increased.” Seddeth finished keying up the video. “Here ya go, then.”

  “As you can see—” Ry walked up to angle the monitor so it didn’t reflect the overhead lights. “—even state-of-the-art surveillance equipment is no match for this weather.” Rain slashed in front of the camera lens, obscuring the two blurred shadows as they moved against the rail.

  “You have no security lights in this area?” Sharma asked, eyes narrowed as he focused on the monitor.

  “We do,” Ry told him. “Come on automatically before dusk. The bulbs were all loosened. I imagine you’ll find fingerprints.”

  “Yes, I imagine we might. If this was an accident. But if it was murder, then the killer was unlikely to leave any incriminating evidence. We will, however, check.” He keyed up a walkie-talkie and spoke quietly in Hindi.

  “If—if it was an accident?” Addison’s bare arm brushed Ry’s as she instinctively moved closer to him. “Dear God. Are you saying we have a murderer on board?”

  Ten

  The search went on for hours. They never did find the body. But then Addison didn’t expect them to. The waves were massive, the ocean pitch-dark. The bright lights used to strafe the dark water seemed to be eaten by the blackness and the thrashing waves.

  Addy shivered at the thought of the man being swallowed up by the unforgiving, angry sea. A man she may or may not know. Who’d been murdered? Why? And by whom? Did he have a family who would miss him? A son or daughter who would miss their daddy?

  Addy couldn’t think of that now. First they had to discover who the missing man was, and who had caused him to be missing.

  It didn’t take long for the entire crew, dive team, and an indignant Naveen to be accounted for. The missing man was one of Naveen’s bodyguards, Azm Kapur. Forty-two years old, single, no children. He’d worked for Naveen for thirteen years. The two men had appeared to be inseparable. Addy had seen him dozens of times, always deferential to Naveen. She’d caught the guy giving her a cold, contemptuous look now and then, and wondered if she was imagining it.

  Now she’d never know.

  And it was the not knowing—how it had happened, why, or what it would mean for all of them—that twisted her tummy into a Gordian knot. Naveen never publicly showed favoritism; he treated his servants like … servants, not acknowledging their presence other than to bark out orders. He wasn’t the type of employer Ry was, the type of man who treated his employees like family. But considering how long Azm had worked for the prince, Addy presumed the two men had been—if not friends, at least closer than in the typical employee–employer relationship.

  It was scary to know that someone had murdered the man. Scarier still knowing that person was still on board, someone they interacted with every day. Tesoro Mio wasn’t that big. Naveen must be feeling awful.

  “I should go and talk to Naveen.” Addison got to her feet after she and Rydell had been questioned. Varma had gone down to help with the rest of the interviews. She, Rydell, the captain, and Paras Sharma were still on the bridge. Rain continued to lash at the large wraparound windows, drumming on the glass, making dull white stars out of the outside deck lights.

  Despite the stabilizers, the ship dipped and rose at steep angles, making footing precarious. Stumbling, she had to grab the back of Ry’s chair to maintain her balance. The heat of his skin permeated her hand, making Addison realize she was cold.

  It wasn’t cold in the room. Nerves, she supposed. Or Ry was just hotter than hell. The warmth of his body through the thin fabric of his red T-shirt so close to her hand was more marked than usual. Whatever the reason, she withdrew her hand from the back of his chair and spread her feet, better to brace herself for the ship’s next rolling lunge.

  They hadn’t been able to skirt the storm because of the search, and now they were in the middle of it. By the feel of the swells, the storm was intensifying. The wind had strengthened and the swells were, according to the captain, nine to twelve feet. Thank God she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

  When Rydell had summoned her earlier, she had been watching the flashes of lightning and the undulating waves. Addison doubted anyone could’ve slept through this, and it had taken mere minutes for everyone to assemble in the lounge.

  As she turned to see who’d banged into the door as he entered the room, Addison staggered with the rise and sudden drop of the ship as it crested a huge wave. Before she could grab something to keep from falling, Rydell grabbed her hand, tethering her in pla
ce beside him. “The police are talking to Darshi now.”

  “Yes, shrimati,” the middle-aged officer told her. “Raajkumaa Naveen and his other two servants are all being questioned privately, and individually, as we speak. It might be some time now. You are free to go. If we have further questions for yourself and your husband, we will wait to the morning.”

  Addison wriggled her fingers free of Rydell’s firm clasp. The tension lashing at her inside matched the storm raging around the ship. She hated that she loved the feel of his strong fingers clasped around hers. Hated that the sight of his broad chest still turned her on. Hated that she freaking hated him, because loving him had always been so easy. Hating him was such freaking hard work.

  She hated this person she became around him.

  “He’s not my—This is my ship, and I won’t be retiring until I know what happened tonight.”

  “The inquiry might take several days.”

  Rydell sat up straighter. “Several days?” He fisted his hands and then opened them again with great effort. “This storm is already taking us out of our way. Delaying us by a full day.” His voice sounded tight, and Addison shot him a sideways glance.

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled as something stirred in her subconscious. Why is this salvage so damn important to him? Why this salvage, why now on this tight time schedule? His sister-in-law Callie was worried about him, and she’d urged Addison to call his sister Peri. Now Addison was sorry she hadn’t tried harder to reach Peri. She knew enough about Rydell to know he did nothing casually. Everything he did had a purpose or an ulterior motive.

  “Are you saying we can’t continue our trip while you investigate?” her ex asked Officer Sharma.

  “I’ve ordered our ship to accompany your ship to Malé,” the older man informed him. “We will remain on board. No one may leave the ship until we’ve thoroughly investigated this situation. Unless you’d like to turn around and return to Mangalore?”

 

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