CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

Livvy stood shoulder to shoulder with Jack, scrutinizing the smoke in the distance. To the west, the Odyssey still pursued them, but it was a scant silhouette now. It was not the Odyssey that blew up.

“The Algonquin?” she whispered to him.

The wind and a pack of raucous seagulls stole her question. She changed her mind about repeating it.

“Interesting,” Ray uttered, pulling a cellphone out of his jacket. He hauled it up to his ear and after a momentary pause, announced, “They’re with me. They’re safe.”

Livvy tried to listen in as he made limited observations about the pursuit of the Odyssey, and then added, “And there’s been an explosion—”

He fell into a grim silence, nodding occasionally to the voice on the other end.

Jack’s hand cupped her shoulder. She leaned into him, burrowing into his warmth. The chill of shock had finally taken root. A trembling began at her core and permeated recklessly throughout her body. His arm crept down, corralling her in his embrace. A soft whisper dusted her ear. “I don’t like this situation anymore than you do, but the guy handed me a loaded gun. I guess we should give him the benefit of the doubt. I prefer our odds here above the Odyssey or the kayak.”

Nodding into the lapel of his jacket, Livvy moved in tighter. Just days ago she did not even know this man, and now she was plied close enough to him to memorize his entire anatomy. Heat flooded her cheeks as she used her palm against his chest to manage a little separation.

Studying the stranger on the phone, she thought some might consider him attractive with his towering frame and surly expression. To her he just looked dangerous. She found Jack’s athletic build and dark features much more appealing.

“It’s almost over,” he murmured.

Almost over, she chanted in her mind. Oh Mom, I miss you so much.

Jack’s grip on her arm jarred her from her reverie. She looked up at him only to see his head cock to the side. She followed it and glimpsed the gray viscous strip of land. In a few moments it congealed into a solid craggy bank littered with seagulls. As they progressed she began to recognize the coastline and knew they were on their way towards the cove that housed Pennington Marine Science Center.

It was impossible to relax, though. The Odyssey was out of view now. This boat’s speed had placed enough distance between them. But what awaited them? More men in sunglasses? More guns? Hell, one of them was driving this boat.

But Jack had a gun now.

One look at him stabilized her. He stood facing the oncoming shore, his dark hair spiking in the wind, his broad shoulders braced for the unforeseen. Long legs were rooted in place, the muscles in each thigh flexing for stability. He held the gun below his hip, his other hand gripping the windshield. For this man, the past few days had been riddled with the unknown. One glimpse of his chiseled stature and she knew he was prepared for it.

Sensing her stare he glanced over his shoulder. Eyes that mirrored the overcast sky beckoned her. His arm extended in invitation as she moved in beside him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, squinting into the briny mist, watching as land loomed.

***

Ray’s testimony was correct. They did arrive to find two marine patrol boats docked at the PMSC pier. Up the hill, a trio of SUV’s were visible, their red and blue lights pulsing. State Police. Jack recognized the insignia even from this distance. A few plain-clothed men milled about the deck, some talking into their cell phones while one climbed down the plank and offered Ray a hearty shake of the hand. After a few words, Ray tipped his head towards Jack. The man stepped forward, his hand proffered.

“Mr. Morell,” he asserted. “I’m special agent, Mark Cowler, CGIS.”

The Coast Guard Investigative Service. Interesting.

“I’m going to need to talk to you and Miss McKay,” the man continued. “Perhaps we can go up to the main building for some privacy.”

Blood wormed into Jack’s scalp. He studied the clump of officers huddled at the end of the pier. His gaze slid to a plain-clothed agent steps away glancing at his watch and scratching the side of his head. On the sidewalk, two orange-vested paramedics strolled towards the deck.

No urgency.

No gravity.

No clue.

Jack’s perusal continued to the mouth of the bay where he anticipated seeing the Odyssey chug in at any time. According to some of the hushed conversation between Agent Cowler and Ray he gathered the veteran vessel had disappeared.

A comforting hand clasped his arm.

“You look like your head is about to blast off your shoulders,” Olivia whispered with a sympathetic smile.

Well, yes, that’s actually what it felt like.

“Do you believe this?” he barked, drawing the curious stares of Ray and the agent.

“No,” Olivia nodded.

Agent Cowler extended his arm and waggled his fingers. “Please, let’s go up to the building and talk. I’m sure you both need to get out of the cold.” He glanced ahead. “The paramedics are here. They will assess if you need any medical attention.”

“Surreal,” Olivia mumbled as she fell in alongside Jack and trailed after the man in suit pants and a pullover gray sweater.

No bullet-proof vest for the CGIS. Not even the bulge of a gun at his back. Was this another group of bogus administration? If so, it was an extensive ruse, enlisting the state police, the rescue squad, and the marine patrol boats.

No, this time, Jack believed the support was genuine…but, considerably lackluster.

Ray did not join them on the hike up to the science center. Still skeptical about the man, Jack felt that he deserved a word of gratitude. After all, he did save them from either death by gunshot or the elements.

Olivia waved off a female paramedic, but accepted the offered blanket.

“Don’t you want one?” she asked, her breath hitching from the steep exertion.

“Maybe later the cold will set in,” he reached to drape the cotton blanket across her shoulders, “but right now I’m hot.”

“Yeah, hence the whole head blowing up observation.”

A grin toyed with his lips, but the doorway ahead arrested his attention.

Agent Cowler stood patiently at its side, smiling blankly as they climbed the three steps and approached. Jack tapped in a sequence of numbers, using his back to shield the motion. It was an old habit.

As the door opened, two state police officers appeared and entered before them. Their diligence was of some comfort. Jack no longer possessed the Ruger. Ray had reclaimed it as they pulled into port. It was licensed to him and he didn’t want any harassment with the law enforcement engaged on the pier.

As they entered his office, Jack’s first priority was Olivia’s well-being. He hiked the blanket around her neck and looked her in the eye. In the ambient light her pupils grew and she swallowed when he swept his thumb over her bruised cheek.

“You’ll be going home soon,” he whispered, ignoring Agent Cowler who boldly seated himself behind Jack’s desk.

She nodded, but her eyes were anxious. Pale lips parted, but the words never formed.

“Mr. Morell. Please have a seat,” Agent Cowler instructed in a voice that lost some of its congeniality. “Can you get these two some hot coffee?” he asked one of the officers standing outside the doorway.

Jack pulled back the visitor chair on the opposite side of his desk. He tried to avoid blatantly staring at the cabinet that housed his backup pistol. Instead, his gaze wandered to the bank of security monitors. With dismay he noticed the blinking red light that represented the Algonquin had now ceased.

“So,” Agent Cowler set his elbows atop the desk and steepled his fingers, his narrow chin resting atop them. “I understand you’ve had quite an experience in the past twenty-four hours.”

“Longer than that,” Olivia injected.

“Yes,” he glanced down at a notebook resting beside his elbow. “I see the claim that you were assaulted in your home, and that you believe it somehow ties into your recent abduction at sea.”

“Claim?” her voice piqued. “Does this look like a claim to you?” She waved a hand at her face.

“Miss McKay,” Agent Cowler began patiently. “I am not making any judgements. I am here to collect the facts. Initially the Coast Guard was handling a search mission for the missing research vessel, Algonquin, owned by Pennington Marine Science Center.” He dropped his hands to slide the pad over before him. “Investigative Services were contacted after several mitigating factors.”

“Such as,” Jack prompted, fighting the impulse to rise and pace.

“Well, Ray Gordon’s call. I know he is contracted by a global company now,” he looked at his notepad, “BLUE-LINK, but he has many connections and is a respected security contractor. He alerted us of your abduction at sea. “This BLUE-LINK company and other calls−” the agent glanced at his writing, “−such as the one from you last Wednesday, Mr. Morell, claimed that the Algonquin’s disappearance was suspicious and not a byproduct of weather as the surviving engineers suspected. And, well−” He sat back in the chair, wearing an expression similar to someone suffering from digestive problems. “There’s that mess upstairs. Ray Gordon states that there were two men secured by bungee cord−armed men who shot out the front lobby in what Mr. Gordon says was,” Agent Cowler picked up his notebook, “a hostile act.”

Setting down the binder, Agent Cowler folded his hands and volleyed his glance between Jack and Olivia. “Why don’t you both just tell me your tale?”

***

At some point, they moved to the cafeteria in search of more coffee. Olivia sat with her legs tucked under her chin, the blanket still clutched around her shoulders. As subdued as her stature was, fire brimmed in her eyes. Jack shared that ire. It stemmed from the dispassionate regard of Agent Cowler. Sipping his coffee with aggravating nonchalance, he took a few notes and nodded as if he had already pronounced sentence.

“What I have here,” he began, “is hearsay and supposition.”

Jack stood so quickly his chair nearly toppled behind him. “There are two ships missing. One presumably blown up. There is a shitload of glass in our lobby with I imagine are very real bullets laying around.”

Unfazed by his outburst, the agent leveled his eyes and stated, “In one sentence you used the words presumably and imagine. Need I say more?”

“This is absurd,” Olivia cried, tossing the blanket on the floor. “Do I look like some misguided tourist who cast herself in a kayak and drifted helplessly out to sea?”

Cowler cocked a black eyebrow. “I don’t know you ma’am, so I can’t answer that.”

Her hand vaulted above her head in frustration.

“Listen,” the agent sat forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands linked together. “Something happened here. And yes, two research vessels are missing. And yes, I trust the testimony of Ray Gordon that you were indeed attacked here on the premises of PMSC. But, I have nothing more than that. Your uncle has gone missing at sea. According to your own ship’s engineers, there was bad weather−”

“They don’t remember anything,” Jack volleyed loudly. “They both suffered from trauma to the head, obviously inflicted by someone.”

“Or by falling down and hitting the outboard−” Agent Cowler patiently filled in.

Jack clasped his forehead against the blood that pounded a corps of base drums.

“This is insane,” he said. “The moment we walk out of here we’re targets again.”

“Of what? From who?” Cowler countered mildly. “This−” he glanced at his pad, “−Hawkins was supposedly after you for something that you saw or possess. Under your own advisement and instruction on the combination we opened the footlocker located in the back of your Jeep. Yes, it’s fascinating that your uncle was able to locate wreckage from the Eclipse container ship, but it’s certainly not earth-shattering news. Someone was bound to discover it eventually. A chair and a telegraph. Maybe a local maritime museum will be interested, but not enough for abduction, attempted murder, and the detonation of a multi-million dollar research vessel.”

Jack listened for condescension in the man’s voice−for judgement. Neither were there. This federal law enforcement agent was truly stating the facts.

“You have nothing more, correct?” Agent Cowler scanned his notes again.

Jack wanted to yank the spiral pad out of the man’s hands and write on it, READ BETWEEN THE LINES.

“You said you took pictures of this−” the eyes flittered down, “−suspected weather-altering apparatus, but this Hawkins guy seized your phone. You claim the apparatus itself is secured in a freezer on the Algonquin, yet you believe the Algonquin has been destroyed at sea.” He glanced at his pad. “Blown up?” His shoulders dropped slightly. “And you say your uncle has witnessed more wreckage of the Pembrook and that his ship was attacked because of it−”

But, your uncle is gone.

Cowler didn’t need to voice the thought that charged through the room.

“So you have no more in your possession than the CGIS now has. That means that you are in no greater danger than we are. Of course, we’ll be keeping the McKay residence and PMSC under surveillance for a period, but I don’t anticipate any future incidents.”

As much as Jack desired an end to this drama there were simply too many unanswered questions to let it go at that. Apparently he wasn’t the only one.

“So that’s it? We all part and go merrily on our way?” Olivia rose, as did her voice. “You won’t research the wreck of the Pembrook? And what about Jack’s uncle? You just pronounce him, lost at sea?”

Jack’s stomach twisted. He knew how much that statement pained her.

“The Coast Guard has been searching for Warren Pennington, but we’re going on five days now. You know full well how big that water is and how minimal the resources are.”

So, he’d done his research about Olivia.

“And yes,” he continued, “we will search for the Eclipse Pembrook. We have approximate coordinates now.”

“So does Hawkins and his men,” Jack inserted. “You will find nothing but a carcass. They’ll have already stripped it clean.”

Olivia nodded in agreement.

Cowler glanced back and forth between them. “Give me something. Give me anything to go on. Believe it or not, I want answers. If this has reached our department, then someone else wants answers as well.”

“Maybe we can give you a body later,” Olivia muttered as she walked away with her arms hugged about her.

Jack wanted to follow, but he knew she needed a moment to herself. Instead he took his frustration out on the agent.

“We’ve given you all the information we have. Our lives have been threatened. Mine by association to my uncle, but her—” his hand swept towards the woman pacing out in the corridor, “—Olivia was an innocent bystander.”

Cowler sighed. “Heresay, Mr. Morell.” He appeared genuinely frustrated. “You’ve given me nothing but hearsay. How do I know it wasn’t you that punched her?”

Jack nearly lunged, but reigned himself in. “Jesus Christ. I did not do that. What would even make you think that?” His tone was gruff with emotion.

Holding up his hand, Cowler motioned Jack to sit. “I don’t believe you did, but in my profession, gut instinct doesn’t come across well on paperwork. I’ve got to go with the details that I’ve been presented with.”

Cowler read from his notepad.

“Warren Pennington and the research vessel, Algonquin, go missing at sea. Olivia McKay is assaulted in her home. The assailant runs away, taking nothing with him. A day later the McKay residence is again ransacked, but the footlocker that you claim someone is after is left behind. This footlocker contains a chair and a telegraph panel from the Eclipse Pembrook container ship.” He paused, “This we have verified.” Flipping the page, he resumed. “You claim to have received a call from someone threatening your uncle unless you divulge what you discovered inside that trunk, or elsewhere. Your phone is missing, but we will be able to trace your line and hopefully ascertain the source of the call.”

“You’ll also find several calls from Amanda Newton at BLUE-LINK, who is as interested in the Eclipse ship as the men who hijacked the Odyssey.”

Cowler’s face pinched. “Yes, I’ve received just as many calls from Amanda Newton. She has been investigated, and her interest appears to be legitimate.”

“She felt we were in danger and sent that Ray guy out to help us.”

“Yes,” Cowler rubbed his forehead. “Her intentions might have been solicitous, or selfish−that has yet to be determined, but she should have contacted the authorities and not used her private security. That will be addressed with her.”

Jack glanced out into the hallway to make sure Olivia was in view and safe. She was still pacing with her hand immersed in her hair.

“Amanda Newton didn’t trust the authorities. Maybe she suspected that they were involved. I told you that this Hawkins guy looked military.”

“Not facts, Mr. Morell. Those are not facts. Let’s get back to them, shall we?” He held up his pad and squinted for a moment. “You claim that someone tried to run you off the road. Also, you had assailants here at PMSC, but instead of reporting this intrusion to the Police, you decide to take off in the Odyssey after−” He flipped the page and frowned. “What were you after?”

Gripping the back of the chair for support, Jack felt overwhelmingly tired. “I was receiving a signal from the Algonquin−one that we could trace with the GPS. We went after that signal.”

The agent’s lips narrowed. “Again, by yourself, without contacting anyone?”

Dammit, the guy was right. “Yes, but when you have your own uncle telling you not to call the authorities−and you can hear the sound of gunfire behind him−” Clearing his throat, Jack continued, “and you have some unseen entity on the phone threatening that they will know if we go to the authorities and they will hurt Warren−”

“But they didn’t have your uncle−”

“No,” Jack defended. “But, I didn’t realize that at the time. I agree that my decisions were not the wisest, but I was trying to protect my uncle, and I was trying to protect Olivia.”

They each glanced out into the hall and Olivia stopped her pacing to stare blankly at them. The clash of pale skin and shadows made her blue eyes even more vivid. Damp hair now dried into a tousled cascade across her shoulders. Jack wanted to go to her. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her until heat returned to the slim body that trembled with chills. She would reject him, though. Hell, she had to hate him by now. He had destroyed her life.

“Off the record,” Cowler murmured by his side, “I would have done what I had to do to protect her as well.” He gripped a clean-shaven chin. “Look, I know Ray Gordon personally. I went through SEAL training with him, but in the end we chose different paths. I trust him. He said that whoever hijacked the Odyssey had some serious backing. He was able to grab the fake ID’s off the two shooters up in your lobby before they disappeared. It’s not much, but it’s something. There is a lot about this story that doesn’t add up−and it’s not on your end. You took on too much by yourself, but you did what you had to do.” Cowler cleared his throat. “On the record−” He stared down an aquiline nose. “Call me next time.”

For the first time in nearly a week, Jack felt a sense of advocacy. He and Olivia weren’t on their own anymore. Actually, Amanda Newton from BLUE-LINK had been their advocate−they were just too distrustful to see it.

Cowler’s cell phone rang. He mouthed, excuse me to Jack and then turned his back, growling, “Agent Cowler.”

“Where?” he barked. “How long ago? Is there a visual? Alright, send another ship to the scene.” The back of Cowler’s head bobbed. “Right. Let me know.”

Jack felt Olivia’s fingers worm around his bicep. Blue eyes stared up at him. “What is it?”

They both waited for Cowler to turn around, sensing his conversation had something to do with them.

He met their curious gazes with a level one. “There was an explosion about a mile and a half off the coast. People reported seeing it from Mariner’s Point. One of our cutters wasn’t too far away, already searching that area for the Odyssey. They arrived at the scene and have identified the debris as belonging to the Odyssey.”

Jack’s head dropped forward. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what the insurance company has to say about two of our research vessels going up in flames.”

“Any−” Olivia’s voice barely projected.

“No,” Cowler read into her question. “No sign of anyone. Most likely a remote detonation. They got a ride home from someone else.”

Another dead end.

“I now see where you’re coming from,” Jack said. “No Algonquin. No Odyssey. The only survivors from either have no memory. No proof of suspicious activity aboard the Pembrook. And no Hawkins or any of his cohorts.”

“We hope,” Olivia murmured.

“We’ll have a team comb your coastline, Miss McKay. If Hawkins or his men are watching, they will see that. They’ll know that anything located there will become temporary property of the Coast Guard. If they want to come after someone−they can come after us.”

Agent Cowler offered a confident smile. It looked ill-placed. “Look,” he relaxed slightly, “I’ll have some agents drive you both home so you can get a warm shower and well-deserved rest. I’ll instruct them to watch the properties for the night. We’ll meet again tomorrow to talk some more.”

Jack could feel Olivia sag against him.

“Alright,” Jack conceded. “I want to get Olivia home. We’d appreciate that.”

She nodded in mute agreement.

“Just give me a few minutes to collect some things out of my office. Olivia has a bag there as well. I also need to send out a message to the PMSC staff about tomorrow’s operations. We’ll stay closed for another day or two, but several scientists have projects that can’t be left alone for long periods.”

“Fair enough,” Cowler agreed. “I’ll wait here and make a couple calls myself. There is an agent patrolling the hall if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Jack muttered as he cocked his head, inviting Olivia to join him.

There was no encouragement necessary. She was already ahead of him.