| |
She believed him and wonder filled her. Jack Martin, all hers. Really all hers. She kissed him, letting herself go, trying to show him how much he meant to her. How much just hearing those words meant. After a minute or ten—who knew—he gripped her hips and set her back an inch. They were both breathing hard, standing in the middle of the parking lot in plain view of everyone. Her stomach knotted. That was damned stupid, losing herself like that here. Neither mentioned it, but she could see him realizing it too as he looked around sharply.
He took her hand and they started walking, casually taking a look around. It didn’t take long to determine they were in the wrong place and move on. When she’d asked Gabe how he’d come up with this particular list of boats and marinas, he’d been vague. Something about cross-referencing registrations with known clients or friends of Stirling and its owners, and registrations in corporate names where he couldn’t determine actual ownership yet.
It was a lot of guessing for Gabe, and she knew how uncomfortable that made him. It was basically guesswork for her and Jack, too. They ruled out a few boats because there were families onboard. Kids weren’t great at keeping secrets, and Stirling would insist on it being kept. A few others had couples or small groups, but there wasn’t anything suspicious about them. They were friendly when she or Jack struck up a conversation and none had weapons, where they could be seen at least. They’d cleared a couple of empty boats also.
“After this one, let’s get lunch,” Jack said, as they pulled into the third marina of the morning.
“That sounds good. This is starting to feel like a wild goose chase.”
He grinned. “I’m good with that. I get to spend the day with my girl and no one’s shooting at us.”
“Girl?”
“I figured I’d get slapped if I called you my woman.”
“Calling me girl might get you the same.”
She’d thought of him as her man a few times, but she didn’t mention it. He’d never let her forget it and would run with the whole my woman thing. Instead, she got out of the car and looked around. Jack came around to her side, near but not taking her hand.
“Stay close.”
His tone was edgy and she understood why. They were about an hour and a half south of Tampa now. She hadn’t even caught the name of the town, and the marina had a neglected vibe with a little seedy thrown in. There weren’t many people around, and the boats ranged from old but cared for to not on her life would she take it for a sail. The one they wanted was as isolated from the others as it could be, at the farthest slip on its own. Nobody paid attention to them as they made their way towards it. She got the feeling it wasn’t the kind of place people asked questions, which was a plus for her and Jack.
There was no one visible on the boat when they reached it and climbed aboard, but the smell was unmistakable. Metallic. Coppery with sour sweetness. Blood. They both pulled their weapons, and Jack led the way down into the cabin. It was a large living/dining/kitchenette space and was pristine except for the body slumped on a couch with a perfect hole between his eyes.
“Stine,” Jack said, then motioned towards a dim opening at the opposite end. “That’s where the smell’s coming from, though.”
There wasn’t any blood in the main cabin except the little on Stine’s face. He either hadn’t been killed there or someone had cleaned the space around him. The stench was awful, though. She dreaded looking beyond the doorway, but it had to be done. Again, Jack led the way. He found a light switch and they stopped just inside. There was a bed centered on the far wall, nightstands on either side, and no other furniture. The bed had shackles on each corner, and in addition to the blood, the room smelled of old bodily fluids. She forced her mind to detach and approached the opposite corner where a body was wedged between the wall and a nightstand, like he’d been trying to get away or hide from someone. He was emaciated, wearing filthy scrub bottoms but no top, and barefoot. He’d been stabbed in the torso and throat at least a dozen times, and blood pooled under and around him. The poor man had died hard.
She took a photo of his face and sent it to Gabe to run through his facial recognition program. Then she got Brax and his twin brother Aaron, a captain in the Tampa Police Department and her former boss, on a video call.
“Our victim died where he is,” she said, turning the camera to show them the rest of the space. “And whoever killed him cleaned up in this room.”
She showed them a bulging garbage bag tucked in a corner, then turned to the doorway. She could see a faint film but doubted they could. She touched the frame carefully. “It’s tacky. The killer taped it off. I bet we’ll find a tarp in that bag, and probably the killer’s clothes.”
“So the killer knew he was going to do it, and to kill like that he must enjoy it,” Aaron said grimly. “You think it was Stine?”
She shivered. Her mother would have said something about a ghost walking over her grave and Livie couldn’t argue.
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
She walked into the main cabin and showed them Stine’s body. He was dressed casually in slacks and an open necked short-sleeved shirt, but his shoes were next to him on the floor as if he’d been interrupted while dressing. She couldn’t help but think he’d died way too easy, especially compared to the guy in the next room.
“We got a problem,” Jack said, startling her with the grim fury in his voice.
She spun around to see the open cabinet doors he’d been searching while she talked to Brax and Aaron and approached to see what he’d found, but he was standing at the top of the steps staring towards the main marina. She peeked around him and saw a couple of big SUVs had parked and several men were piling out, looking in their direction. Most weren’t bothering to hide their rifles either. Ambushed. Just fucking great.
“Can you get that boat started? We need it,” Aaron snapped. She understood; there was no telling what they might find forensically.
“I can’t. Jack?”
“Guess we’ll find out.” He disappeared and called back to her. “See if Stine has keys on him. Otherwise, we’re fixing to have that firefight, baby.”
Fighting down revulsion, she dropped her phone without disconnecting and rushed to the body, dug through his pockets to find two sets of keys, and hurried back to Jack. She looked up at the deck and was stunned to see Toby Evans throwing off the ropes tying them up.
“Get this thing started,” he snapped at her, and she dashed to Jack, who was at the wheel, weapon pointed and waiting.
She tried the ring with only one key on it first and thankfully the engine turned over immediately, but she had no idea what to do next. Toby Evans did, though.
“Evans, get up here!”
Jack moved forward to take Evans’ place, and Livie moved to back him up just as the boat started moving and people started shooting at them. She dropped as bullets whizzed by her ear. Who the fuck were they? Stine’s people or someone else? And how had Evans managed to reach them just in time? Evans got them out of range in a short span of time, though she couldn’t have said how long. A couple minutes? Ten? Who knew? She swung around from her position and pointed her pistol at him. He’d helped. That didn’t make him one of the good guys.
“How did you find us?”
He glanced over his shoulder and snorted before facing forward again, driving them onto open water.
“I’ve been following you all morning. When you came onboard and didn’t return right away, I figured you found something. I’d just reached the boat when the others pulled into the lot.”
“Who are they?”
“Stine’s personal security. Is he onboard?”
“He’s dead,” she said flatly.
He gave one curt nod. “My wife?”
“Not here. Sorry.”
“Someone died hard here. I smelled it as soon as I slipped on. Stine?”
“Dead, but not hard. An unknown male.”
They were moving fast now, but she still hadn’t lowered her weapon.
“I’m on your side, Ms. Allen,” he said without turning around. “But maybe you should check on Jack.”
She didn’t turn her back on Evans, but scooted on her ass until she saw Jack. He sat leaning against the hull, his weapon pointed towards Evans and his hand pressed against his bloody side. She sucked in a painful breath.
“Damn it, Jack.”
He looked at her with a faint smile. “It isn’t bad. Went right through and didn’t hit anything important.”
It didn’t look like that to her, and her heart stuttered before racing. She’d come too damned close to losing him. He squeezed her hand.
“Get in touch with Brax. We aren’t safe yet.”
She needed to do that, but her legs didn’t feel steady enough. He cupped her cheek. “Take a breath, darlin’,” he whispered. “Then get us home.”
She kissed him quickly, softly, then rose to her feet to find her phone and a path to safety.
