15

Dutch Harbor’s rugged beauty radiated awe in Bailey. The massive ocean surrounding the tiny island, the blue sky—larger than life, the spray of the sea, and the vibrant mass of purple fireweed blooming along the shore made it seem a wonderland. “It’s breathtaking.”

Cole sighed. “No place like it on earth.”

“Spoken like a true Alaskan.”

He winked, and her traitorous heart fluttered. There’d been a time, a glorious summer, when she’d pushed past the pain of being abandoned by her parents, when her friendship with Cole was flourishing so that she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. But that’d been before . . .

“Hammer man,” a guy called.

Bailey turned, and Cole waved at the young man striding toward them. Tall, curly blond hair, deep blue eyes.

“How you doing, Pete?” Cole clasped his hand.

“Can’t complain. Got air in my lungs, waves to ride. What brings you to my neck of the woods?” His enthusiastic gaze shifted to Bailey and he smiled. “And more importantly, who is this?”

Cole turned to her and smiled. “Bailey, this is Pete Baker. And, Pete, this is Bailey Craig. An old friend of mine.”

Friend? How could he still view her as a friend after what she’d done?

Pete extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Bailey.” His eyes shone full of youth and optimism.

“You too.”

Cole slid on his shades. “We need to procure a ride over to Isux.”

“No problem. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure, man?”

“Absolutely.”

Pete led them down the dock to a small vestibule with a sign boasting Best Whale Tours in Alaska. He reached in the shed and flipped the sign to Closed, then scribbled, Back in a few. Off to Isux on the chalkboard underneath.

“We’re not pulling you away from something?” Bailey asked.

“Nothing that can’t wait.” Pete smiled. His boat, Pierless, sat moored at the end of the pier. He held out a hand, helping Bailey aboard.

It didn’t take long to get under way.

“I dove Big Ben last weekend,” Pete said as they cast off.

“And?” Cole asked, settling down beside Bailey, waves lashing against the stern in their wake.

“You were right. It was incredible.”

“You ought to try Skimmer’s Reef.”

Pete glanced back from the wheel. “As good of a rush?”

“Even better.”

“Cool.”

Bailey smiled at the enthusiasm bubbling inside them; they were overflowing with a zest for life.

Somewhere along the way she’d lost that—taking time to enjoy the world around her, to be carefree and a kid at heart. She’d stopped being a kid the day her mom dropped her on Agnes’s doorstep. In truth, probably long before that.

“I keep hearing about some spot in your area called Blue Paradise,” Pete said. “Ever hear of it?”

“Yeah.” Cole shifted to face her, the sun glinting off his shades.

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, thankful she couldn’t see his eyes, fearful of what she might find there. Blue Paradise had been their spot. It was where he’d taught her how to dive. They’d spent practically every day that summer beneath the water’s surface, the two of them in their own little world amongst the colorful coral. How could something that had brought her so much pleasure, now resonate inside her with so much pain?

“Is it any good?” Pete asked.

“Yeah.” Cole looked down. “It’s great.”

“How come you held out on me? Trying to keep it for yourself?” Pete chuckled.

Cole swallowed. “I don’t dive there anymore.”

The heaviness of his words only compounded the weight bearing down on Bailey.

Pete seemed to pick up on the nerve he was hitting and subtly redirected his attention to the sea.

Cole nudged Bailey’s foot with his. The touch, though short and completely innocent, sent shock waves through her. “You still dive?”

“I do.” She swallowed, fighting the urge to reach back out to him, to feel his skin against hers, however briefly.

“So you’ve kept up with it?”

“Yeah, I love it. Particularly wreck diving.”

“That’s cool. Maybe we can go again sometime.”

“Maybe.” It was a nice thought, but in truth she couldn’t bear it—sharing something that had been so special to them, so intimate. Besides, all of her time needed to be spent on readying the shop for sale. Today was for the murdered girl. Tomorrow it was back to work.

A half hour later, they disembarked on Isux’s shore.

“Thanks for the lift.” Cole tossed the rope to Pete.

Pete wound it around his muscular forearm. “No problem. When do you want to make the return trip?”

Cole looked to Bailey.

She shrugged. “A few hours?”

Pete smiled. “Good enough.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to keep you.” She didn’t want to ruin his entire day’s income.

“No problem.” He pushed off, water rippling in his wake. “You kids behave, now.” He winked, his eyes alight with merriment.

“Interesting friend,” she said as Pete faded into the horizon.

Cole slid his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, Pete’s a great guy. A blast to dive with, which is pretty cool considering he used to be terrified of water.”

“That guy?” Bailey jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Cole kicked a pebble onto his foot, playing with it as a soccer player would a ball. “We got him over his fear.”

“How’d you accomplish that?” Pete seemed more at home on the water than anybody she’d ever seen. It was hard to wrap her mind around him being the least bit afraid of it.

“Pete came into the shop. Said he was determined to conquer his fear. Said it was ridiculous to live scared of water when he was surrounded by it, so we worked with him, took it real slow. Started with basic swimming lessons, then diving, then surfing . . . You get the picture.”

“That’s really cool.” She always admired those who could tackle their fears head-on. She’d always found it easier to run.

“His wife’s really nice too.” Cole kicked the pebble up and caught it on his forearm like a hacky sack, bouncing it along the well-sculpted muscle.

She missed being wrapped in those strong arms. She shook off the thought, forcing her gaze from Cole’s physique to the dwellings dotting the craggy landscape, and led the way toward Elma’s cottage.

“Too bad Nicky wasn’t around today. You’d like her.”

“Pete’s married. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Yep. Two kids.”

“You’re kidding? He looks so . . .”

Cole arched a brow.

She shrugged. “He just doesn’t look the marrying type.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know. More settled.”

“Just because he dresses surfer style doesn’t mean he’s not settled. Sure he and Nicky live an island lifestyle, but they are very happy, very committed. They adore their kids. They’re totally involved in their church.” He tsked playfully. “You should never judge a book by its cover.”

She grimaced. Or its past.

“Wildheart.” Elma ran toward them, her arms open wide, her dark hair dancing on the breeze. She looked wonderful—same rosy cheeks, same contagious smile.

Cole arched an amused brow. “Wildheart?”

“Leave it,” she said, just as Elma engulfed her.

Elma stepped back, examining her. “Look at you, my little Wildheart—all grown up. So beautiful, no?” She set her dark eyes on Cole.

“Extremely.”

A rush of heat swarmed Bailey’s cheeks, and she prayed it didn’t show, but if Cole’s grin was any indicator, she was blushing up a storm.

“Are you back visiting Agnes?” She looked over Bailey’s shoulder, then frowned. “She didn’t want to make the trip?”

Bailey’s heart sank. Elma hadn’t heard. That’s why she wasn’t at the funeral. She should have sent word instead of assuming Gus had, especially with the suddenness of it all. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Elma wiped her tears. “I just saw her.”

Bailey inched closer, offering Elma a tissue. “You did?”

“She came, not long ago.” Elma blew her nose in the tissue, then clutched it tight. “Maybe a month or so back. She was working on some research.”

“What kind of research?”

“About Amgux.”