by S A Monk
“Grandma,” she chided her. “Shorts and an old ratty sweatshirt do not add up to very lovely.”
“They do in my book,” Nick corrected her. “Especially on a woman with such good looking legs.”
Hanna blushed to the newly highlighted roots of her uncurled hair. “Okay, you two, quit this,” she chastised them. “Are you ready to go, Colonel?”
He nodded and rose from his chair. “Thanks for the coffee and the conversation, Colleen.”
“See you this afternoon, Grandma.”
Colleen waved them off. “Have fun. Don’t be too good.”
Outside Hanna stopped to look at Nick, who was chuckling to himself. “What’s with Grandma this morning?”
“She’s probably glad to see you do something besides work.”
“It is nice to have some time off. I know I work too hard. I really need to take more time to relax before I wear myself out.”
“It’s hard when you’re dedicated to the job.”
They were walking towards Jessie’s house. “You should know.”
“I do. After twenty years of rigorous training cycles and deployments, I need to back off a little, too. I’m ready to change my life patterns some. How about you?”
“I’d like to. I know we’ve got work to do, but I’m looking forward to doing some diving and sailing while we’re at it.”
They stopped in front of the two-story Craftsman-style house that Nick had come to live in as a boy. “Other than relaxing and enjoying life more, what kind of changes have you thought about making in your life?” he asked.
She studied him curiously. He was trying to get at something, but she wasn’t sure what. “I don’t know. It would have to depend on circumstances, I guess.”
“What kind of circumstances?” he persisted.
“I’m not sure.”
“Someone special?”
She laughed, staring at him, bewildered. “What are you getting at, Nick? First, my grandmother. Now you. What was in that coffee?”
He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I don’t know. Forget it.”
“Okay.” She headed toward her car, which was parked in Jessie’s driveway because Nick was still tinkering with it. “I need to get my wet suit and diving gear out of my trunk. I left it there after the last time I went diving.”
From the pocket of her white shorts, she pulled out her car keys and opened the trunk, then began extracting her wet suit, fins, diving mask, and air tank.
Nick put his hand over hers to stop her from dragging out her tank of compressed air. “You won’t need that. I have a new model you might like to try.” His hand moved to a battered, partially rusted, fishing rod tube lying in her trunk, next to her tank. “What’s this?” he asked, picking it up to examine it.
“I don’t know. After Lance disappeared, I went diving near Discovery Junction. I found this next to the crab pots Nat Simms claimed had been tampered with. Some fisherman probably lost it while he was out there. I haven’t even tried to open it, but it feels empty.”
Nick fiddled with the lids at either end of the tube. They were too rusted to unscrew easily, but he finally got one off. He turned the tube to the sunlight so he could see inside better. His brows drew together in a frown.
“What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”
“Maybe. We’ll see. I’m going to put this in the house. Be back in a minute.”
While she waited for him, Hanna moved to Jessie’s wide covered porch, where she sat down on the top step. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes and soaked up the warm rays of the morning sun. The salt-scented breeze coming off the ocean swept over her upturned face like a lover’s caress, and she smiled.
It was the way Nick found her when he returned. The picture she presented was too lovely to ignore. Quietly, he watched her for a few stolen moments. When she finally opened her eyes, he chuckled. “I caught you with that secret smile again.”
The next smile she gave him made his heart skip several beats. Picking up her diving gear, they walked back to Colleen’s, then down to the beach, past the wind-swept grasses, over the rocky outcroppings, and around the shallow tide pools, to the long wooden pier Hanna’s grandfather had built before she and Dylan had come to live with them. It extended into a small cove that was partially protected by a narrow spit. A big black rubber boat gently bobbed at the pier. It was the Zodiac Nick had requisitioned for them to use for a week or so.
Hanna tossed her beach bag and scuba gear inside. He took her by the elbow and helped her step up over the high inflated side, then hopped in after her and untied the ropes from the pier’s cleats.
“This is a lot larger than Lance’s rubber dinghy,” she observed as she sat on the floor of the boat and drew her legs up to her chest to wrap her arms around them.
“It has to carry seven men and their gear,” Nick informed her as he started the motor.
There was an enclosed compartment in the middle of the boat that could hold gear. It was where Nick indicated he had stowed his gear. The lid was closed to keep everything inside dry.
They were following the coastal curve of the western side of Quimper Peninsula. In a slower rubber boat, like Lance’s, it would have taken them thirty or forty minutes to get to the end of the bay. In Nick’s faster, rigid-hulled model, it looked like they were going to get there in half the time.
Stretching out her legs, Hanna watched Nick with quiet pleasure. His long legs were planted wide to stabilize himself over the choppy water, while his darkly tanned, long-fingered hands were curled firmly around the big steering wheel. The breeze ruffled his hair, and the sun brought out the lighter colorations in it. He was wearing dark sunglasses, too, so she couldn’t see his eyes, although they appeared steadfastly focused on the watery path ahead of them. He looked so completely in command, so in control of his task.
“It’s such a beautiful day, we should have packed a picnic lunch,” she commented, as she raised her arms in a leisurely stretch over her head.
Nick looked toward her and smiled. “I did. Mom made chicken salad sandwiches.”
“Oh, God love Jessie! They’re my favorite, and she makes the best.”
He chuckled. “And here I thought Mom made them because I liked them.” Something caught his eye in the distance. “We need to make a trip over to Shelter Island tomorrow or the next day. Maybe we can take another picnic lunch and have a look around.”
“Why do you want to go there? Most of it’s a bird and wildlife sanctuary.”
“I understand Yancy Masters bought the old caretaker’s place out there and renovated it. I’m surprised the state let him buy it. Usually, when the owner of a piece of property on state or federal parkland dies, the deed goes back to the agency. Where does a bar owner get that kind of influence and pull?”
“You’re right. It does seem strange that he was allowed to buy the place as a private residence. Why would he even want to live in such a remote location? Maybe he bribed some public official to get permission to buy the place. He has his own security staff to keep boaters and tourists off his end of the island, and they’re definitely not pleasant to trespassers. A year ago, there was a tourist who was shot when he went to look at the house, thinking it was part of the preserve. I removed the bullet from his shoulder in ER. Yancy came by the hospital, talked to the guy, and promised to fire the overzealous security guard, so no charges were filed. Personally, I think he must have paid the man off so he wouldn’t make a fuss.”
“Really?”
Hanna removed her glasses and gave Nick a thoroughly wicked smile. “See. You didn’t have to pump Ashley Davis for information. I hear a lot of gossip, too.”
“So, does that mean I can pump....”
Laughing, she held up a hand. “Don’t go there, Nick Kelly! I don’t want to hear any of your raunchy come backs.”
“Aw, you’re no fun, Doctor Wallace!”
AFTER THEY DOCKED AT NAT SIMMS rickety wooden pier, they followed the dirt pa
th to his singlewide mobile home. There were half dozen of his elderly neighbors sitting outside in a cluster of mismatched patio chairs on his redwood deck.
Hanna knew most of them. She saw them at the hospital, and a few were friends of her grandmother’s. They greeted her first. Nat then introduced Nick, using his new military rank. Being an ex-Marine, he proceeded to tell his neighbors that Nick’s father had been a decorated Marine hero during the Vietnam War. He also told them that Nick had grown up in Port George, and had a distinguished military career himself.
Nick took the accolades in quiet humility, but Hanna could tell he felt uncomfortable being ranked as a hero of his father’s caliber. She knew he had been awarded a few medals of his own for his bravery and service over his twenty year career, but he never bragged about them; never even referred to them, unless asked.
When they were seated, Nat offered them coffee and donuts. Hanna accepted the coffee, while Nick took both coffee and donuts. It made her smile because it reminded her he’d always had a sweet tooth.
For the next hour, Nat and his neighbors told the two of them why they had made all those complaints to the sheriff’s office. Their crab pots in Discovery Cove and beyond were being tampered with on a regular basis. For the most part, even tourists respected the fishing pots as off limits. The pots were left continually in the water, periodically checked to see how many of the local specialty, the Dungeness crab, had been trapped.
Normally, the catch was excellent this time of the year. Lately, it had been almost non-existent. There were a lot of small inlets and coves at the lower end of Discovery Bay, and most of the residents in the region who had some kind of boat placed traps for personal use. Nat was convinced that someone was poaching. And there had been a lot of unusual late night marine traffic the past few months. Whenever the sheriff had been called, his deputies had never arrived until the next day. Dylan had been the only one who had attempted night surveillance, but nothing had ever come of it.
Nat informed Nick and Hanna that he had talked to quite a few residents at the lower end of the bay, and that many of them had experienced the same problem.
Nick asked if any of them had seen the boat that Dylan stopped to ticket the evening he had disappeared. Only Nat Simms had, and his story was the same as it had been before. He hadn’t been able to think of any other information that might help.
Hanna asked if anyone had seen Lance diving in the bay the day he had disappeared. One of the neighbors said she and her husband had seen him and waved to him.
Before they left, Nat pulled Nick aside and told him that he thought there was some kind of smuggling going on.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. I’ve seen it before, years ago,” the old man went on to explain. “People don’t normally boat after midnight. And I’ve seen too many late nighters these past several months. Besides, this region is somewhat remote, off the beaten path most of the year. It’s a perfect place for sneaking stuff into the country that ain’t legal. Hell, the Canadian border is only a few miles away, and it’s in the middle of the strait. Lots of opportunities, don’t you think?”
Nick rubbed his jaw. “It’s something to consider, Nat.”
After thanking him for the information and the hospitality, Nick and Hanna returned to the Zodiac.
“At least I understand more clearly why the complaints were made,” Nick commented as he pulled away from Nat’s dock. “Simms might have something with his theory about smuggling, too. It fits the late night scenario of strange boats. I can’t figure out how the damn crab pots fit in, though. Who’d go to all that trouble for a few Dungeness crabs?”
Hanna shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. I thought it was interesting that the sheriff never sent anyone out on those complaints until the next day. I know Dylan did at least one late night stake-out. We all teased him about looking for crab thieves.” Her expression turned sad at the memory. “But he was torn between feeling the complaints were frivolous and feeling ticked off at the sheriff for not responding to them. Whatever was going on was making the elderly residents along the coastline uneasy. Dylan figured if Thomas would just listen to them, they might feel someone at least gave a darn.”
Nick smiled at her version of swearing. Hanna rarely said more than darn. “Well, we need to take a look at the area around these pots. You ready to do a little diving. We can start in the cove, head south, then motor up the other side of the bay.”
“All that today?”
“We should see how many we can get to. Nat is going to call the rest of his friends who have been having the same problem, so they’ll know we’ll be in the area diving and investigating.”
Nick steered the Zodiac into the middle of a cluster of brightly colored buoys that bobbed up and down on the relatively calm surface of the water. They marked the crab pots resting on the silty bottom.
As soon as he cut the motor, he threw the anchor over the side. Then he went to the square compartment in the center of the Zodiac, lifted the lid, and dug his scuba gear out.
Hanna peeked over his shoulder to look inside. “Wow! What is all this stuff?”
“My toys.” Nick grinned, pointing to various things. “Night vision goggles and a pair of infra-red binoculars. A couple of spear guns. A GPS. An underwater camera. My Ka-Bar knife. My 9mm handgun. And a couple of new Draegr’s, on loan from the Naval base. Ever use one?” Hanna shook her head no. “It’s an underwater rebreathing device that recirculates and filters air, without leaving any trace of bubbles. I can program the right amount of chemicals and oxygen in a Draegr to allow us to go as deep as we want or stay down a long time, without any negative effects.”
“Sounds pretty fancy.” Hanna was impressed with his array of sleek military diving equipment.
“It’s one of the perks of the job— getting to use all these things.”
“So high tech.”
“That’s the way of it nowadays.”
“So I’ve read in the newspapers.” Hanna stepped back to pull off her sweatshirt, then step out of her white shorts. Underneath she was wearing her bathing suit.
Nick continued to pull out the gear he needed. “You haven’t read the half of it. Much of the newer stuff we use is too classified to mention.”
“So, you’d get sent to the brig if you told me about it, huh?”
Nick turned around to laugh with her and froze. She was wearing a coral red, one-piece swimsuit that outlined all her female curves in luscious detail. The stretchy material plunged to a deep vee that revealed the swells of her beautiful breasts. She damn near killed him when she bent over to unlace her tennis shoes.
The movement gave him a view of her that made his mouth go dry. Her long slender back, partially exposed by her swimsuit, tapered into slim hips and a round curvy butt that he remembered fit his big hands perfectly.
Shit! Keeping his hands off her wasn’t going to be easy.
When she turned to face him, his gaze drifted from her bare feet, up her long legs, over her slender hips, to her very nicely delineated breasts. By the time his eyes met hers, he could see his candid stare had flustered her. Her face was flushed, and she was tugging self-consciously at her swimsuit.
Hanna wanted to reach for her sweatshirt to pull it back on, Nick’s slow perusal had been so disturbingly intimate. Under his ardent gray-eyed stare, she felt hot and agitated. To occupy hands she didn’t know what to do with, she reached behind her to retie the neck strap of her bathing suit.
“Want me to do that for you?”
She rejected his offer of assistance nervously. “No, I’m just making sure it’s okay before I put on my wet suit. Guess I should have just worn it, huh?”
His glittering silver gaze swept her figure one more time. “Hell, no. That bathing suit looks great on you.”
“Oh.... Well… thank you.”
Her shy smile and stuttered reply made him take pity on her. He yanked his own sweatshirt off over his head, then reached for his wet
suit, which was draped over some equipment.
Hanna stepped into her thigh length wet suit. The stretchy diving garment was black and purple with short sleeves and a high neck. She was wiggling into the top portion when Nick stepped up to her.
He hadn’t put his own diving gear on yet. He was in his swim trunks, bare-chested. Nick shirtless was way too tempting to ignore, especially since he was standing directly in front of her, close enough to see each dark hair on his torso. It had been three years since she’d seen him bare-chested. Her eyes traveled over every well-defined curve of muscle. The power and strength in his upper body was striking. He was all male. Behind her dark sunglasses, she devoured every solid inch of his torso, relieved her hands were occupied because she was so very tempted to touch him.
Instead he startled her by touching her. He caught the tab of her wet suit zipper and pulled it up from her waist to her throat. It was a task he took his time with, a task that required him to put his hands over hers to accomplish. As they passed over her breasts, his wide knuckles brushed against bare skin and swelling curves. The contact lingered long enough to be a caress.
Hanna tried to steady the rhythm of her quickened breathing. Nick noted her agitation and stepped back with a wink.
“Nice wet suit, too,” he commented, stepping into the long pant legs of his one-piece, solid black wet suit.
Hanna had never realized how revealing diving gear was. It fit like a second skin, outlining very distinctly all of her curves and his. She felt uneasy beneath Nick’s arousing looks, but she was just as aroused looking back at him. And she had to admit, she definitely liked the fact that he was noticing her physically.
She sat down on the floor of the big rubber boat to pull on her diving fins. Nick was zipping up his own suit, and when Hanna looked up at him, she wished she had the nerve to do for him what he’d done for her. Instead, she chose to stare at the long ripples of muscle that his sleeveless suit exposed, and from shoulder to wrist, his arms were much more tanned than his chest had been.
“Guess Afghanistan didn’t allow you to work on your tan much.”