CHAPTER 7
Problems at the cannery had still been on Emily’s mind when she went to work that day. The place might not have been processing fish, but that didn’t mean the interns had the day off. Instead, Tim Garrett had decided it was the perfect opportunity to give them all a lesson on the federal regulations pertaining to fisheries. The goal, he said, was to give them a deeper understanding of how and why NOAA had developed rules for the taking of fish in Pacific waters. Unfortunately, Tim’s idea of teaching was to spend the morning reading the rules verbatim over the hum of the cannery’s generators, and by midmorning, eyelids were starting to droop. If Emily’s mind hadn’t been busy elsewhere, she was sure she’d have fallen asleep.
She tried not to let Tim see her as she sneaked another quick peek at the clock. It wasn’t his fault that “Subpart H Regarding Deviations From the Allocation Schedule” was so boring, but it felt as if time were standing still. Emily had been rehearsing what to say to enlist Sam Reed’s help since she woke up that morning, and the more time that passed, the less confident she felt. In the back of her mind, she kept hearing Noah’s snide retort when she declared her determination to find the source of the problem: What was she going to do about it?
What she wasn’t going to do, she told herself, was turn her back and pretend that things were fine. She could see how tightly wound Tim was, and on the drive to work, the other girls had told her how distracted he’d been, trying to deal with complaints while he worked with the interns. If there was an answer out there, she was determined to find it. First, however, she had to get Sam’s buy-in, and as Tim droned on, Emily was losing her nerve.
At last, twelve o’clock rolled around and he let them out for lunch. As the others argued about which fast food joint to hit, Emily hung up her lab coat and grabbed her wallet. She’d get herself something to eat on the way back, she thought, right after she’d talked to Sam—if she talked to Sam. The fact was, she had no idea which of the many tenders tied up outside was his.
Emily hurried down the metal stairs that led from the catwalk to the factory floor, feeling the structure vibrate with every footfall. She was already at the bottom before the rest of them started to descend.
“Hey, Emily!” Rachel called out. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
She shook her head. “Got an errand to run. I’ll see you guys after lunch.”
Through the row of windows that lined the southeast side of the building, she saw people out on the sidewalk making their way to their own lunchtime rendezvous. Then a blur of black caught her eye as it hurried past.
Bear!
She looked ahead and saw Sam a few feet in front of the dog. Head down, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, he seemed to be in a hurry. If she didn’t get out there fast, she might miss him.
Emily ran to the big double doors and tried to push one open. It was surprisingly heavy, and she was only able to move it a few inches, just far enough to squeeze through the narrow opening. By the time she got out to the sidewalk, there was no sign of Sam or his dog. Nevertheless, she told herself, they couldn’t have gotten far, and she knew which direction they’d been going. If she just headed that way, she’d run into them sooner or later.
The wind felt as if it were coming straight off an iceberg, numbing her cheeks as Emily headed up the road. She was glad she’d worn her fleece jacket that morning. She passed the cannery and the stacks of shipping containers outside its loading dock, searching for any sign of Sam and his dog. By a boat shelter big enough to house a couple of hundred-foot tenders, she saw a man in a pair of dusky overalls, and beyond that two small metal sheds with a sign out front that said DAVIS AND SON—still no Sam. Three large blue buildings took up the rest of the next block, and after that, Emily saw an open field that someone had been using as a makeshift dump. She turned her back to the wind and scanned the other side of the road. There were several small, derelict buildings that might or might not be businesses, but no indication that Sam and his dog were in any of them. As she realized that her quarry had gotten away, Emily felt her spirits flag. Short of knocking on every door she’d passed, there wasn’t much else she could do to locate them.
What now?
As she started to retrace her steps, she saw a man coming toward her. Was it the same man she’d seen next to the boat shelter? She wasn’t sure. He certainly looked like the sort of men she’d seen working on the dock: weather-beaten and slightly seedy, with a distinctive roll to his walk as if he were compensating for the swell of the ocean, even on dry land. When he got closer, Emily noticed a distinctive red birthmark on his left cheek that drew her eye.
“Afternoon, miss.”
“Hello,” she said.
She was trying not to stare. It must be hard to live with something like that on your face without having people gawking at it all the time. Emily willed herself to ignore it.
“Are you lost?” he said. “I only ask because I saw you looking around and now here you are coming back already.”
“No,” she said. “I’m not lost. Just looking for someone.” She took a second to scour the area again. “Unfortunately, I think I lost him.”
The man’s smile made pleats across the birthmark.
“Well, he’ll be sorry he missed you, I’m sure. I don’t suppose there’s anything I could help you with?”
Emily’s first instinct was to say no. There was something about the man that she found disquieting, and she would have preferred to hurry back and join the others at lunch. But he’d done nothing to make her think he was a threat; on the contrary, he’d been concerned for her welfare. Was she just letting his disfigurement affect her judgment? Shamed by her own intolerant attitude, she decided to tell him who she was looking for and why. After all, if this man was a regular on the dock, he might also have useful information.
“Sam Reed?” he said. “Of course I know him. I used to be part of his crew. Good man, Captain Reed.”
Emily was excited. Not only did this man know Sam, but he’d worked the same waters and probably knew the same people—both on the docks and in the cannery. Congratulating herself for ignoring her prejudices, she decided to take him into her confidence. Had he heard of anyone, she asked, who might have it in for Tim Garrett and his interns?
The man dipped his chin and made a discreet survey of their surroundings. The street was not well-traveled, but there were a couple of people on the other side of the street who might overhear if he said more than a few words. With a wordless jerk of the head, he directed her toward the spot where she’d first seen him and walked off with Emily right behind. When they got to the first small shed, he motioned for her to come around the far side, out of sight of the road.
Emily hesitated; the uneasiness she’d felt before was back. Martial arts training had given her the confidence to defend herself in a threatening situation, but it was always better—and easier—to avoid an attack than to fight one’s way out of it. The man turned and beckoned her again.
“Come on,” he said. “Do you want my help or don’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m taking a risk here, you know. If anyone hears I’ve been a rat, I’ll be blackballed. Might never get another job. Do you want that?”
She took a cautious step forward.
“No, of course not.”
Emily hadn’t expected him to be so quick. Before she could react, the man had grabbed her by the wrist and twisted it hard. She felt her knees buckle as she tried to relieve the pressure on her arm.
“Come along then,” he snarled. “I’ll give you what you’re looking for.”
As he pulled her toward the back of the shed, Emily fought the urge to panic. She felt foolish more than anything else. How many times had Sensei Doug warned her not to ignore her inner voice? She was in pain and she’d lost the upper hand, but she wasn’t beaten—not yet, anyway. Whatever happened, though, she wouldn’t be getting out of this unscathed.
Before she could make a move, though, Emily heard the jangle of metal and scuffling on the asphalt behind her. The man holding her looked up and his face paled. She felt the brush of fur against her shoulder as Bear rushed forward, snarling. The man released her hand at the same moment she heard Sam’s voice.
“Bear! Get back here!”
Sam rounded the corner and pulled up short as the man gave him a look of pure hatred. Emily was expecting Sam to tell the man to back off. Instead, he turned and gave her an admonishing look.
“Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you I’d be right back.”
Emily felt a flash of anger. Why was this her fault all of a sudden? Sam hadn’t even known she was looking for him. She was about to tell him off when she saw the pleading look in his eyes asking her to play along.
“I didn’t think you were coming back,” she said through gritted teeth. “You certainly took long enough.”
Sam laughed and looked at the other man.
“She didn’t think I was coming back,” he said. “Women, right?”
Emily could see that the man was still poised, ready to fight for his prize if given the chance, but the presence of the snarling dog slowly changed his mind. He turned and gave her a simpering smile.
“It seems you’ve found what you were after,” he sneered. “I suppose you won’t be needing any more from me.”
As he slipped away, Emily shivered. Even though she was sure she’d have been able to spare herself the worst possible outcome, the thought of what he’d had in mind was chilling.
Sam turned on her in a fury.
“What are you doing,” he hissed, “hanging out with a guy like Logan Marsh? The man’s a pervert.”
She reared back.
“I wasn’t ‘hanging out’ with him. I didn’t even know his name. Besides, he’s your friend, not mine.”
“Is that what he told you? That we were friends?”
“He said he was part of your crew.”
Sam looked at her like she was addled-brained.
“The crewmen on my ship aren’t my friends,” he said. “I hire them to do a job; they either do it or they don’t. If they do, I keep them on. If they don’t, they’re fired. That guy,” he said, pointing, “is bad news, which is why I fired him.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”
“If you didn’t, then you shouldn’t have been wandering around down here by yourself. You’re lucky Bear and I showed up when we did.”
Emily felt her lips tighten. She wasn’t some helpless naif who needed to be rescued. Logan Marsh might have gotten the drop on her—temporarily—but as far as she was concerned, she’d never been in any serious danger. It was time to straighten this guy out.
“For your information, I was doing just fine when you showed up.”
“Oh, right.” He chuckled. “And how ‘fine’ do you think you would have been once he dragged you behind that shed?”
“I wouldn’t have let him.”
Sam looked away for a second, shaking his head.
“Look,” he said. “Just try not to be so trusting, okay? Or at least find someone who can clue you in to this place before you get yourself killed.”
She smirked. “Oh. Someone like you, perhaps?”
“Sure.” Sam shrugged. “Why not?”
“Well, thanks,” she said. “But I think I’ve gotten enough ‘help’ for one day.”