Chapter 3

Dane parked his Jeep and turned to Zoe. She sat rubbing her knees in the hot summer morning. Decompression sickness. It was no use lecturing her about getting rest, not until she got this over with. So, he pocketed his keys and slid to the asphalt. Gingerly, she stepped on his running board, then the parking lot. He had an urge to walk around and slide his arm over her shoulder, but he knew better. They weren't like that.

The St. Petersburg police department made the one on Ibis look like a corner drug store. Elevators, long hallways on both sides. Even on a Saturday afternoon, people walked around from room to room, trickling out of the elevators, and waiting in lobby chairs. He and Zoe stopped at the reception counter and, surprisingly, she let him do the talking. "We'd like to report a... crime."

Zoe jerked her head to him. The woman was an endless mystery. He read the frustration in her eyes but had no clue about the cause.

"What kind of a crime, sir?" The receptionist was a man and wore a crisp uniform. He seemed young enough to be in high school.

Dane looked to Zoe who was still staring at him. "The lady, here, found a skull stuck in a cavern. With a, uh, knife, ya know... in it."

"Fill out this form, and wait over there, please." The dude gestured to a row of glossy chairs along a far wall.

They sat in the chairs as he started filling in her information. He leaned into her as he asked the questions he didn't know the answers to. There weren't many of them. The smell of clean salt water filled his senses as he realized she wasn't pulling away from him. Her answers were methodical without a single word of sarcasm. It was all freaking him out. "Babe. Are you okay?" he asked as he wrote.

"I don't feel so good."

She didn't give him shit for calling her, 'Babe.' "Are you going to puke again?"

"I puked?" She looked around the ceiling like she was considering before she shook her head.

"Pass out?"

"No. I'm fine. Let's do this. I captain the party boat tonight."

"Yeah, right. I can read the headlines now. Woman with the Bends Crashes Sun Trips Touring Boat. I'll send Liam."

"It's his day off."

"Are you sure? He came out this morning when I saved your life."

"You did not—"

A man dressed in a button-down shirt creased with a holster came from the hallway on the right. "Good day. I'm Detective Osborne. Are you the two who have a crime to report?" He held out his hand. Dane took it and shook.

"We do, yes. I'm Dane Corbin and this is my—"

"Employee," Zoe interrupted stepping forward.

"Very well." The detective took the clipboard from Dane's hand. "Let's head upstairs, and we'll see what you've got." He glanced through the papers on the clipboard as he walked toward the elevators.

Dane rested his hand on the lower half of Zoe's back as they followed. The office was small with wooden mini-blinds that were pulled closed. Dane gestured for Zoe to sit, then he followed.

"So, it looks like you have..." Osborne trailed off as he read. He must have gotten to the knife through the skull part, because his eyes turned to them with brows lifted high.

Zoe pulled out her camera. "I was diving due north of the cavern just west of town." As she turned the camera on, Osborne stood and thumbed through a file cabinet. He returned with a map just as Zoe held out the camera. "I discovered a crevasse. In it, I found this."

Osborne eyed the photo, then opened an underwater map of the area. "Can you pinpoint the location? We can get a crew down there ASAP."

Her beautiful green eyes grew as she ran them over the detail of the map. Dane knew what she was thinking. She'd never moved on from the death of her brother. It was why she came to him more than a year ago, crying in his office. She wanted to sell her scuba diving business, merging it with his. She didn't want it anymore; didn't feel qualified to be in charge of divers... of people.

They'd never been close, he and Zoe. Grown up together, sure. Fooled around once in high school—which her sister would never let him live down. But the day Zoe came to him; he didn't even consider. He agreed to buy her out flat on the spot. Since then she'd been filling his mind with ridiculous thoughts and ideas. He followed her nearly every Saturday, keeping an eye on her as she dove searching for signs of her missing brother. Dane ought to be out on the Pacific, looking for his next haul of treasure. Yes. He knew what she was thinking. Her mind mesmerized the detail of Osborne's map.

No, he should be here.

She still led party pontoon expeditions and captained the snorkeling and bird sanctuary tour. Even manned the gift shop. But she hadn't taken out a single scuba group since the day her brother died. He let his lungs fill before he exhaled slowly.

"Can I take some pictures of this?" she asked but didn't wait for an answer.

The detective looked surprised as Zoe clicked off shots of his map. Dane wanted to tell him to get used to her forwardness. He had.

"Where did you say you found the skull?"

She pointed to an area near the bottom of the coastal wall.

Osborne dipped his head closer to the map as Zoe clicked off another dozen photos. "There's nothing here, miss."

It was the first smile he'd seen on her face since he pulled her out of the water. It knocked him off balance like it always did. She may have been gangly back when they were in high school, but her smile could always change the pull of gravity. He would never tell her that.

"It's a bit of an optical illusion down there, I'll admit. Send your guys. They'll find it." She started to get up.

Osborne placed a hand on her forearm. She looked down at it, then up at him.

"I still need a statement, miss. And I'll... need that camera."

"What? I just took eighteen pictures."

"You'll get it back, but it looks like a person might have been killed. Maybe we should give him or her priority." Dane found himself impressed with the way Osborne put Zoe in her place without putting her in her place.

Dane waited patiently as she gave her statement. Three times. Then, they asked him about his involvement. Twice. They were there for over an hour. If this really was Liam's day off—and Zoe never seemed to be wrong about these things—Dane would be pushing his luck asking him to captain the party boat. Maybe he would just do it himself.

* * *

"Keep my camera?" Zoe moaned as she tilted Dane's bucket seat back as far as it would go. "They're going to have to keep my camera?"

"Murdered person." Dane was just rubbing it in, she knew. He plugged in his Smartphone and started up his reggae playlist.

It's not like she didn't care about the dead person. She reported it, didn't she? Twice. "I just don't see why they couldn't upload the pictures and give me my camera back."

As he drove, she turned her eyes to the sky. There was nothing quite like a clear, blue Florida sky. The island breeze cleared her thoughts. She let her lungs suck in the air and her eyelids drop. The scenario reminded her of Seth. He was ten years older and generally the one in charge of driving her and her sisters around the island until he was old enough to move away and go to college.

Her parents loved them dearly. She knew this. But the minute each of them turned eighteen, their bedrooms suddenly turned into offices and craft rooms. Either go to college or get a job. 'It's your choice,' her mother would say with a warm smile. The corners of Zoe's mouth lifted as she dozed off.

In her half-conscious state, turtles drifted near her in the sea grasses. Seth tapped her on the shoulder, then jabbed a pointed finger at a new cavern he'd discovered.

She swam uncomfortably near it. She was never uncomfortable diving with Seth, but she didn't want to see in this cavern. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward it. Why was he doing that? He grinned as he gestured inside. Obediently, she lifted her head. Her legs started to kick as she spotted the skull. Seth held his tight grip on her arm. Her eyes locked on an enormous skull that stared at her. Two large moray eels darted at her, one from each eye socket.

It was either the terrifying image or the familiar feel of the hump in her parents' drive that startled her awake. Was she driving? Riding with Liam? Bolting to a sitting position, her head spun enough for her to grab the side of it like that might keep it from falling off. She leaned back against the reclined seat as she remembered she was in Dane's Jeep.

Wait a minute. With a fear of head spins, she stayed semi-horizontal and turned her head to him. "You didn't dare take me—"

"Damn right I did. This is the second and a half time today you've passed out on me. I called the boss."

She knew who he meant, and it was a mean trick. Her mother was a vegan, belonged to a number of conservation groups. She taught Zoe, Seth, and their sisters how to meditate and use organic herbs for relaxation. She could also turn into a mother grizzly bear when her children were threatened. Dane had gone behind Zoe's back. It wasn't the first time.

"What do you mean second and a half, you traitor? I only passed out once today."

"There was the time when you looked at the picture of the dead dude—very cool shot, by the way—again, just now in my Jeep, and I'm counting when you were in shock from the bends as a half. You did nearly puke on me."

"I wasn't in shock. And I was resting my eyes just now. I didn't pass out. Are you sure I puked?" She still didn't remember that part and knew he would make it up if it suited him.

At that moment, her mother stormed out of her house. "Oh shit," Zoe said softly, then hit Dane soundly in the arm with the back of her hand. "What the hell did you tell her?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth.

"The truth," he said through his teeth as he smiled at her approaching mother.

It was an opposing sight. Herbs dripped from planter boxes that lined the front porch rail. Sunflowers towered over the porch and hollyhocks lined the drive. This year, Zoe's stucco childhood home was painted bright yellow and covered with her mother's latest artwork. Larger-than-life goldfish swam around a ginormous mermaid. All of it topped with her father's four female goats that grazed on the thatch growing from the roof.

The opposing part was the way her mother marched like General Patton's right-hand-man toward Dane's Jeep. Zoe was too scared to laugh.

"A grown woman and look at you," her mother barked. "You've got us all worried sick. I've got your bed ready and tea brewing." She put up a finger and nearly poked Zoe in the chest before she could say a word.

Instead, Zoe took the easy target and mouthed to Dane, 'I'll get you for this,' before taking her mother's outstretched hand.

Forty-eight hours. She could do this for forty-eight hours—the period of time symptoms could appear or worsen if one happened to have the bends. Which she did not. Thirty-six hours, really, since it was afternoon already.

"Half the town has called asking me how you're doing."

Half the town? How did they know already? Oh right, small island. The house was open with a warm breeze that ruffled the pastel orange curtains of the cozy living room. Her father sat reading The Great Gatsby in his ancient recliner. "Hi, Dad. Long time no see." Semi-retirement looked good on him. The restaurant they owned seemed to do okay without their constant presence.

Eyes matching the sea green color of her own smiled before her father took a sip from his flower power mug and returned to his book. Her mother led her down the short hallway with walls covered in family photographs. Homemade artwork filled the spots between photos of Zoe, Seth and their sisters. Shells clustered into the shapes of the seashore birds that gave Ibis Island its name. Some frames contained depictions of the endangered sea turtles their family had taken under their wing to protect. The ancient hardwood floor creaked as they made their way to her old room.

The only things that remained the same here were the smell of clean linens and fresh herbs. Well, that and the lines of beads that acted as the door. They still hung in thin columns providing pitiful privacy. She lost door privileges the night she snuck out of the house to neck with Roy 'Renegade' Cooper her junior year of high school. Willow had been none too happy about it since they shared a room growing up.

To go along with the move-out-when-you're-eighteen rule, her parents had transformed it into a den the summer Zoe left for UF. It was now fully equipped with a desk and futon. The futon had already been opened and covered in organic sheets, a blanket, and two hypoallergenic pillows. Bed or no bed, the smell of lavender incense told her she was home.

"You're quiet," her mother said as she turned down the covers.

"Just thinking."

"When he called, Dane told me the skull you found was murdered."

It made her laugh. "I'm not sure if a skull can be murdered, but yes, I found a skull belonging to a person who was definitely murdered."

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Zoe turned to look at her. The lines on her mother's face had deepened since Seth's disappearance. Zoe knew she never quite accepted his death. She couldn't call her mother's actions denial, but something wasn't right. She barely spent any time in the restaurant anymore.

Her mother was a beautiful woman. Brown eyes and long, blonde hair streaked with the gray that made her look even smarter than she already was. As she generally did, she wore it in a youthful ponytail exposing her golden skin and cheerful oval face.

They spoke of Willow's bar and the latest antics of Willow's daughter, Chloe. Conversation changed to the restaurant, then to Raine's obsession with the island's marine conservation efforts. Of Seth, and how they hoped he was swimming in the sea in the sky with loggerheads and surrounded by the treasure he always wanted to find. And they spoke of the family belonging to the person who got himself or herself caught up in a death so violent it was made for the movies. She hoped the family would soon find closure.

"Do you think it was..." her mother said barely loud enough for Zoe to hear.

"No, mom. It couldn't be. The layers of crustaceans on that thing mean it's been down there much longer than Seth. And how could a Clearwater get mixed up in a murder? I love you, but I'm not happy that you listened to Dane Corbin of all people. You know he's a manipulator. A manipulator and playboy."

"Things are rarely as they appear, dear. He's just a boy."

"He's a twenty-seven-year-old man," Zoe retorted.

Her mother sat cross-legged next to her on the futon, sipping something that smelled fruity. Definitely not the chamomile that was in Zoe's cup. Obviously using the mug to hide the fact she was smiling, her mother mumbled, "You're still angry that he tricked you into second base under the bleachers your freshman year. It's perfectly natural to be embarrassed, dear. You weren't as... developed back then."

"Oh yeah, well I was perky," Zoe said in defense. "And I was a sophomore. I had perky little sophomore breasts and Dane Corbin should be glad I let him trick me—manipulate me—into showing them to him. I was lucky Raine showed up when she did. She nearly kicked his ass. And now I have bigger, perky breasts." She sat up straighter and held one in each hand as they laughed together.

She and her mother turned their heads to the knock on the doorframe, then jingle of beads.

A smile the size of the mermaid on the side of the house spread across her mother's face. Zoe could have crawled in a hole and died.

"Size matters." Dane grinned as he walked in carrying the oxygen tank from Zoe's boat.