“Eleri was wrong.”
GJ’s head turned as Donovan continued. “The tricks don’t work.”
He was sitting on the deck of the boat, huddled miserably with his back pressed into the corner. His face was still a little green, despite Eleri’s clear instructions to eat crackers, hold his breath occasionally, and stand with his legs apart, letting his feet rock with the boat while keeping his torso steady. None of it had worked for Donovan. Even anti-nausea medication hadn't quite solved his problems.
“You look better than you did,” GJ offered with half a smile. But not good—he didn't look good yet.
His arms wrapped around his waist, almost as though he were clutching his life vest like a teddy bear. He merely tipped his head at her in acknowledgment and then leaned back against the railing again. So GJ let him be.
Hannah's research boat was older—a second hand vessel she’d bought because of it was big and affordable. Her money clearly had gone into the research, but at least her life vests were top-of-the-line: slim, Velcro-front pieces in bright colors. They were not full of huge chunks of foam, like the life vests that GJ was familiar with. No, these inflated either manually or as a person hit the water.
So Donovan wasn’t quite as dorky as he’d threatened to be when he first stepped onto the boat. And that’s a good thing, GJ thought, looking down at her own vest. They were all wearing them; Hannah had insisted.
The only excuse Hannah allowed was if you were on a dive or asleep below deck.
This new crew was sleeping in shifts on the small boat, only partly because of the vessel’s size. The Calypso had three almost-queen-sized beds, so they all could have snuggled in if they’d wanted. Hannah and Jason had volunteered to share a bed for a rotation, which meant Eleri and GJ had another and Donovan and Noah also shared a space. But they couldn’t sleep at the same time—it wasn’t safe.
Though it struck GJ as paranoid behavior, they arranged to have at least half the crew awake at any given time. It was certainly more than a research vessel needed, but this wasn't a research outing.
GJ had been on boats before—ski boats, slim racing boats, a few cruises with her family, and even the occasional yacht that one of her grandfather's friends owned. However, this was her first time out on a research vessel, as well as her first time living aboard and not seeing land for several days. It was unnerving how wide the ocean was and how small the boat. She wasn't quite sure she was prepared. But it seemed that “not quite prepared” described her entire experience with NightShade.
“Are you okay?” This time the words came at her from Jason as he covered the distance with three long strides to join her at the railing. Standing next to her, he peered out over the waves.
“I’m fine.”
“You're gripping the railing pretty hard for someone who's fine.”
Looking down, GJ found that her knuckles were, in fact, white. “Fair.”
Her eyes flicked back up, taking him in, all black skin, hair shaved close to his head, worried brown eyes. She suspected he had a killer smile, but she hadn't seen it yet. “I feel as if I’m the one who sent Eleri and Noah down on this dive.”
Jason nodded. It was her recommendation that had them voting to dive here. Logically, it made no sense to sail directly over the murder scene and not check it out. But GJ couldn’t do it herself; she’d had to send others, and that didn’t sit well with her. “I don’t like anyone being in a scene where someone was murdered. Not without full backup.”
“You argued pretty hard for it.”
“I argued for logic,” she returned, still not liking it.
The agents had shared some of their information with Jason, carefully picking and choosing what he needed to know to be helpful, so they wouldn’t have to stop at certain moments and explain why they were doing something. Or, God forbid, explain their actions if the pirates came back.
“I'm worried, too,” he offered by way of consolation, “but they're not just research divers, they're FBI agents. They should be okay.”
GJ shrugged. Her friends were underwater with regulators in their mouths. They couldn’t hear very well. Their scuba masks blocked their peripheral vision. It wasn’t the safest of things to do, even in the best of circumstances. Hell, even experienced divers Neriah and Allison had gone down, gotten separated, and one of them had gotten murdered without the other knowing. GJ said none of this. The words that came out of her mouth were, “They should be.”
“I miss them,” Jason said as he looked out over the ocean. “I miss Allison, and I'll probably miss her forever. She was one of the best teachers I've ever had.” He was leaning on the railing beside GJ now. His knuckles were not white, but his breath was labored and his muscles tense. “And now I'm worried about Neriah.”
“I put an email in the draft folder for her.” GJ hoped the information would help ease his worry. “I used the information you gave me.”
She'd stored the draft with the subject line: Just toss it to me, it will be fine.
According to Jason, this was how they often joked about the delicate specimens that they were always handling. If Neriah saw it—big if—she would at least know that Jason approved in some way. GJ could only hope it was enough to signal friend, not foe. They needed Neriah back. They needed to not lose anyone else in this clusterfuck.
Missy Maisel had been locked out of her own email since the FBI had taken over the account. They’d been watching hourly in case Neriah Jones parked anything else or even checked in. Some poor analyst had been assigned the job of sorting the daily detritus of Missy’s email and forwarding it to a new account. But it had to be done. Video from the coffee shop had confirmed that it was Neriah who’d logged into Missy’s account and parked the video from a hard source she’d brought with her.
So GJ had parked her draft right next to the one with the video, titled it with Jason’s joke, and hoped it would be enough to convince Neriah to talk to them. Looking down, she saw that her fingers still gripped the railing too tightly. It would probably be that way until both the other agents’ heads cleared the surface of the water. There were killers down there—both human and fish.
Now all she could do was cross her fingers and hope that Neriah was able to find the email and understand she was safe responding. Forcing a deep breath, she told herself the best thing she could do was remain calm while the divers were down.
Just then, Eleri's head popped above the waves, her curls—redder than usual from the water—compressed beneath the thick bands of the scuba mask. A moment later, Noah’s blond hair surfaced as he came up beside her. With the warm waters, they were all bare limbs and loose hair, Noah’s sticking out in all directions.
GJ had never been so happy.
Then, Eleri held up a mesh bag clutched tightly in her fist. As a frown pulled across her features, GJ wondered: What did Eleri find worth bringing to the surface?