only because Missy came by to tell her that Harry and Sylvie and some of the crew from the Wallflower had come aboard. Bad weather left everyone with nothing to do but twiddle their thumbs, so naturally it was a good time to socialize and get caught up.
It was late afternoon, and an iron-gray sky was visible through the salon windows. Whitecaps danced around the boat, and Guadalupe Island was barely visible through the haze and mist.
“Gracie.” Sylvie warmly embraced her.
Grace returned the hug, enjoying the motherly smell of the woman. “Any news?”
She beamed. “Harry and I’ve got something we want to show you. But first, I want to introduce you to Albie Corcoran.”
An older, slender man clad in baggy clothes stepped forward. His long sandy hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing sharp cheekbones and a tan face. He extended a hand. “Please call me Corky.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Grace said, clasping his hand in greeting.
As he was introduced around—nearly everyone had crowded into the small space—familiarity nagged at Grace.
“Corky is a biologist as well,” Harry said, settling his gaze on her. “He worked with your dad.”
Now she remembered. Her father had mentioned Corky on occasion. Before she could ask him about his history with Eddie Mann, Sylvie ushered her to sit at the table while Harry pulled a laptop from a waterproof case, set it before them, and pulled up a video file.
Missy crammed in beside Grace, and Stephie slid in from the other side. Alec and Double D hovered behind them, watching over their shoulders. Mackenzie situated herself beside Alec. Grace’s inner green monster grumbled, but she chalked up her short temper to still being pissed at Brad. But the girl was tenacious. Surely Mackenzie wasn’t getting any encouraging signals from Alec. Was she?
Maybe she liked Alec as the brother she’d never had.
Grace impulsively spun around to face the girl. “Do you have any siblings?”
Stunned by the odd question, Mackenzie stared at Grace for a moment, then finally said, “Yeah, I’ve got three brothers. Why?”
Huh. “No reason,” Grace murmured and faced forward but not before catching a glance of Alec’s confused expression.
“We managed to get a transponder on one of the sharks,” Sylvie said.
Grace’s attention shifted to the only thing that could break her territoriality when it came to Alec Galloway—Carcharodon carcharias. “Which one?”
Sylvie’s grin made her look like a giddy ten-year-old with silver hair. “Mary Ann.”
Excitement filled Grace as she watched the video that had begun playing. With the transponder attached to the big shark, the monitoring unit had been able to shadow Mary Ann, tracking her movements while filming her the entire time. The greenish-tint to the footage made her look like she was swimming in a pond.
“How deep?” Grace asked quietly, since the entire room had gone silent, the only sound the pelting of rain on the hull of the Mercado.
“She hugged the island, but in some places, she got down to two hundred feet,” Harry said. “She spent the night swimming into the current.”
Grace stilled and rested her gaze on Harry. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, flicking her eyes back to the screen. “She’s sleeping.” Sure enough, Mary Ann’s movements were minimal, steady, and rhythmic. Her eyes were also different, as if she’d shut down brain activity.
“Isn’t it fantastic?” Sylvie’s voice vibrated with elation.
Grace sighed, keeping her gaze on the footage. “Yes.”
Such a sight had never been recorded. No one knew what the white sharks did when they weren’t busy stalking the seals of Guadalupe, or any of the known food sources elsewhere in the world for that matter.
Grace’s throat clogged with emotion, and tears threatened to stream down her face, but she blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. “This is amazing. Thank you for showing this to me.”
For the next ten minutes, they watched the remaining footage in silence although nothing more happened. Mary Ann rested while continuing to swim, her ability to breathe dependent on constant and lifelong movement.
When the video ended, Grace hugged both Harry and Sylvie while congratulations were exchanged and beers dispersed
“Just think of what you’ll learn from your shark cam,” Grace said.
Sylvie’s eyes sparkled. “We’ve already got ideas for upgrades. You can bet we’ll be back next year.”
“What brings you down to Guadalupe, Corky?” Grace asked the man sitting on a stool across from them.
He tipped his bottle for a swallow, then smiled. “I’m on one of the tourist boats.” He held up his hands. “I know, I know. Don’t shoot me. I brought my granddaughters. They’re both in high school and wanted to see the sharks, and I figured a commercial trip would be more comfortable for them. When I found out the Alexanders were here, too, we made plans to get together. And then I heard you were here, so I knew I had to meet you.”
“Did you work in the Farallones?” Alec asked, still behind Grace.
“Yes, sir. I was there in its heyday with Eddie, when there wasn’t a definitive shark program to be found, just anecdotal evidence.” His warm brown eyes settled on Grace. “Did you know your dad was instrumental in rewriting a lot of what we know about great whites?”
A happy, warm feeling suffused Grace. Maybe it was the beer she was indulging in, or maybe it was Harry and Sylvie’s fabulous research breakthrough. Or maybe it was talking about her dad. Some days the pain of losing him cut so deeply that she didn’t dare go near it, or else it would swallow her up. “I think my dad always considered the whites as kindred spirits.”
“The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree,” Sylvie said, glancing at Grace.
Corky nodded, a knowing glint in his gaze. “His fascination ran deep. People thought all along that the whites were nothing but mindless killers, but he found they hunted methodically, almost as if they had a plan, and a very cautious one at that. He also learned that they’re visual predators. Their eyesight is quite good.” He squinted, a sense of delight emanating from him. “I hear you’ve spotted Bonnie-lass.”
Grace nodded.
He tipped his bottle at her. “That’s a coup. I’m not surprised it was a Mann to discover a Farallones shark had migrated here instead. And why not? Those big females are like nothing else on this earth.”
“How do you mean?” Alec asked.
Corky thought for a moment before answering. “For a shark to become that big—to become that unfathomably large—speaks of something altogether different than what most sharks are. Those females, well, they’re the alphas—the alphas of the alphas, if you will—and there’s not many of them. They’re smart.” He paused. “I mean really smart. I came to the conclusion, along with your father” —he nodded at Grace— “that they know about us.”
“About you and Eddie Mann?” Fowler asked from the other side of the room.
“Not specifically us,” Corky answered, “but humans. When we’d see Bonnie, she’d swim by and watch us. She really hated the decoys. When we’d put a new one in the water, she’d suddenly show up, rip it to pieces, then disappear with a hard slap of her caudal fin, as if to speak her displeasure to us. Those decoys never fooled her. There was never any doubt that she was fed up with our presence, and she let us know in her own unique way. She patrolled a stretch of water off the east side of the island, and no seal ever got past her. The smaller sharks would take twenty minutes to eat their catch. Bonnie could eat a five-hundred-pound pinniped in three minutes flat.”
“This isn’t making me feel great about you swimming beside her, Grace,” Alec said.
“I heard you were freediving,” Corky said to her. “Your father and I never had the guts to get in the water with them, even in scuba gear.”
“Visibility is better here,” she said. “And as you said, whites are careful hunters. She’s incredible, by the way.” She craned her neck. “Alec, can you show Corky the footage of her?”
“I’d like that,” Corky answered.
“Better yet, why don’t you get in the water with us?” Double D said. “We’ve got room in the submersible cages. You might get a face-to-face with your old friend.”
Corky considered the offer. “You know what? I think I’d like that even more.”