The Killing Tide, Page 2

  Two hours of questions and paperwork later, Officer Jensen followed Gabby and Lawrence back to the Raleigh Gazette, leaving Gabby’s car at the police impound for the time being.

  Lawrence insisted she was no longer safe at home, and the Gazette had security guards covering the office building.

  The officer escorted them inside and didn’t leave until the doors were locked and the building’s alarm reset. He’d remain outside for the rest of the night. Thankfully, she kept some basic necessities at the office—a workout outfit for when she used the building’s gym, a change of clothes for when she spilled something—which happened far too often—a handful of toiletries, and an extra purse she kept on hand. Excusing herself, she headed for the restroom. She slunk out of her damp and torn evening gown and into a pair of gray yoga pants, a burgundy T-shirt, and her favorite black TOMS.

  Lawrence gestured to his office sofa when she returned. “Get some sleep.” He handed her the blanket and pillow he used when he worked too late. No wonder the man was still single. Fifty-five and married to the job. “I’ll work at Joe’s station.”

  “You need your rest too,” she said, stalling. No way she’d fall asleep, not with her nerves vibrating through her limbs.

  “I’m good.” He lifted his chin. “Lots of work to do. We’ll help the police identify whoever did this. I’m calling in some favors.”

  ———

  A hand shook Gabby’s shoulder, tugging her from sleep. Her eyes flickered open, and she squinted in the dark.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Noah? She pulled to a sitting position, rubbing her dry eyes.

  Her contacts had stuck in place. She blinked, trying to moisten them but to little avail. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “What . . . ?”

  “Lawrence and I spoke, and we agreed. If you’re not willing to give up your source, which I respect, then you need to come to Wilmington and let my team watch you. We’ll keep you safe.”

  “What if Fuentes figures out where I am and sends another hit man?”

  “He’s going to find you for sure if you remain in Raleigh.”

  “I don’t want to risk bringing Mom or Kenzie or the kids into this.”

  “We’re your family. Let us protect you.”

  “I don’t know.” Shifting, she planted her bare feet on the thick carpet.

  “You don’t have a choice,” Lawrence said from the open doorway, the fluorescent lights shadowing his tall stature.

  “Why not?”

  He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. “If you don’t go, I’m firing you.”

  She laughed. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Dead.” His words matched his deadpan expression.

  She grunted. He knew he had her. After her fallout with the BBC over her relationship with a turncoat source, no one in the news industry but Lawrence had been willing to hire her.

  She raked a hand through her tousled hair. “You aren’t playing fair.”

  He linked his arms across his chest. “To keep you safe, I’ll play as dirty as I have to.”

  She released a long exhale. He was giving her no choice.

  five

  NEW BERN, NORTH CAROLINA

  Gabby kicked off her shoes and brought her knees to her chest, trying to stretch out as they entered the still-dark waterfront town of New Bern. Noah had insisted they stay off the highway, so the trip was taking longer than usual, but they only had an hour or so to go.

  “Mom and Kenzie will be thrilled to see you,” he said, tapping the wheel.

  “Will Owen and Fiona be at the games?” She still couldn’t believe her niece and nephew were four and two. Or that her sister was a mom.

  “The challenge kicks off at seven thirty, so that’s too early, but Mark said he’d bring them after they wake up.”

  Noah’s CGIS team had beaten Lejeune’s NCIS team two years in a row at the “friendly” triathlon challenge, but this was the first one she’d be attending.

  “I’d take you to Finn’s to get some sleep, but he’ll be headed to work about the time we pull into town.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Why would you take me to Finn’s?” After the debacle in South Sudan, she’d spent the winter in his guest loft over his surf shack, but surely Noah didn’t intend for her to stay there again.

  Noah cleared his throat. “Finn’s is the safest place for you to be.”

  “Why?” she asked, her throat constricting.

  He glanced over as they entered New Bern’s quaint streetlight-lit downtown shopping district but waited until they’d passed through before responding. “I know it might be . . . awkward . . . after . . . you know . . .” He shrugged.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. Please don’t bring up my relationship with Finn. “Why do you think it’s safer than with you?”

  “Because he lives away from your family, where Fuentes would no doubt look first.”

  “Which is why I didn’t want to come in the first place. If anything happens to you guys because of me, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “I can take care of myself, and Mark can protect Kenzie. He’s a Marine, after all.”

  “Okay, but Mom’s alone out in Topsail.”

  “She’s going to stay with Kenzie and Mark on base.”

  Camp Lejeune wouldn’t be breached, so that gave her a measure of peace.

  “With Finn’s house being on an outer peninsula, he can see anyone approaching from at least a half mile away. And”—he went on before she could argue—“there are multiple ways of escape should the need arise. By boat, dirt bike through his trails, or down one of three driveways leading off his acreage.”

  He’d left her with no argument . . . but with a heart very much in jeopardy.

  WILMINGTON, NORTH CAROLINA

  Finn raked a hand through his damp hair as he strode toward the CGIS office. He was late. He probably shouldn’t have taken the time to surf before heading to work, but Noah’s middle-of-the-night call, explaining what had happened to Gabby and asking if she could stay in his loft again, had kept him up for the rest of the night, and he’d needed the stress release. The swells had been awesome, thanks to the wicked September storm that had blown through during the night.

  But judging by the tight expression on Caleb Eason’s face, there was a far more sinister storm looming in the office.

  “Glad you could join us,” Caleb said with a tilt of his head.

  Finn glanced at his watch. Four minutes. Yikes. He was tempted to say Caleb was being neurotic, but when it came to coastal rescues and, more specifically, CGIS investigations, even a minute could easily mean the difference between life and death, between solving the crime and watching the evidence dissipate before his eyes.

  “Sorry, sir.”

  With Caleb being only two years older than he was, the title often felt weird in Finn’s throat, but Caleb was the second in seniority of the unit, and the office was due his respect and promptness.

  Caleb arched a knowing brow. “Let me guess,” he said as he reached over and pulled the morning’s bulletin from the printer. “Swells?”

  Finn cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said, taking the seat by Sam Foster, who graciously supplied the unit with much-needed caffeine every morning.

  Sam grabbed a cup from the corrugated cardboard tray on the desk and handed it to Finn.

  A blue tiki man trademarked the Hunga Bunga Java cup and also mirrored Caleb’s frown. The strong scent of espresso swirled from the slit in the lid, wafting good vibes Finn’s way in a room full of tension—the embodiment of which stood at the front of the room. He and Caleb didn’t exactly jibe.

  “As I was saying, before you decided to join us”—Caleb tapped his pen against the paper clutched in his hand—“we’ve got a call to respond to. Finn, you’re on the copter. I want you there before that ship is boarded to preserve any evidence if a crime has been committed. Sam, you’re with me on the fa
st raft out.”

  “Out where, sir?” Finn asked.

  “The Coast Guard found Master Chief Petty Officer Dennis Fletcher’s boat adrift this morning after Tess Seavers called in that her husband, Will, hadn’t returned from their fishing trip last night.”

  “Will Seavers?”

  Caleb nodded. “I know he is a friend of yours,” he said to Finn as his gaze swept the room. “Please be vigilant and heed the bulletin we received last week out of Miami . . . along with this update.” He held up the sheet of paper. “Our Miami unit’s recent clampdown on drug runners has not only pushed the drug runners up north, but this report indicates they were sighted off our shores last night. We’re on high alert.”

  Five minutes later, Finn hurried to the helicopter’s line edge and awaited the pilot’s signal to climb aboard.

  The whoosh of the rotor blades disheveled his hair as he climbed into the backseat. He buckled in behind the pilot, Dean, and next to Coast Guard medic Brooke Kesler.

  Brooke lifted her chin in greeting. “You and Stu enjoy this morning’s swells?” she asked over the headset, the roar of the blades whirring like a rush of seagulls’ wings.

  He was mentoring Brooke’s younger cousin, Stu, in the art of surfing. The kid was a fast learner.

  “I caught a glimpse of you two knuckleheads from above,” she said as Dean guided the copter off the ground. Gliding out over the Coast Guard base and the shoreline’s edge, Finn caught a glimpse of his home on the outermost peninsula of Wrightsville Beach.

  They soared across the ocean, where his heart always longed to be—on a board gliding over swells and tunneling through the tubes when he was lucky enough to find them.

  But today, in this moment, concern for his friend Will superseded the source of both his pain and peace.

  “I figured you’d be late,” Dean said with a chuckle. “I’m betting Caleb wasn’t pleased.”

  Finn shook his head. “I thought I had it.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “You always think you’ve got it,” Brooke said. “Stu is no different. Neither of you can shake the rush.”

  She’d hit the mark. There was something almost primal about the ocean’s call to him. But he had higher priorities.

  A swift gust rattled the copter, shaking Finn from his thoughts.

  Dean countered the gust, balancing the copter with ease.

  Finn sat forward, bouncing his knee as concern for Will’s and Fletcher’s safety rushed through him.

  six

  TOPSAIL ISLAND, NORTH CAROLINA

  When they reached the site of the games, Gabby climbed from Noah’s classic hunter green Jeep Sahara, her muscles feeling bruised after the night she’d had and the subsequent long drive.

  The sun was only creeping over the horizon, but it was already seventy degrees. Unable to shake the chill gripping her, she needed to feel the sun’s warmth on her skin.

  Noah studied her as they headed for the main event tent. “You okay?”

  She nodded—shaken but functioning. While she balked at Noah’s brotherly concern, deep down she couldn’t argue with the calming peace that rushed over her knowing he and his team would be guarding her.

  Finn’s face flashed through her mind—the hurt expression clouding his eyes as she drove away nearly six months ago. He’d been blindsided by her decision to take the job in Raleigh. But he’d stuck with her—his scent, his touch, his tender smile. How and why had she left him behind?

  Unease at the thought of facing him rumbled in her stomach.

  Noah chuckled. “Always hungry.”

  “Guilty.” She shrugged, but hunger wasn’t the cause of the gnawing. Easier to let Noah think that though. Rather than entering the main tent, Noah led her inside the food tent. She went straight for a blueberry muffin and steaming cup of coffee.

  Noah glanced at his watch. “We’ve got less than five minutes before the start. I better get ready. You gonna be okay?”

  She arched her brows.

  He lifted his hands, palms facing her. “Okay. Just asking.”

  “Gabby.” Her mother rushed toward her, sand kicking up behind her bare feet. Her mop of red curly hair—hair none of them had inherited except Fiona—fluttered in the breeze.

  Gabby exhaled, her breath lifting the hair across her forehead. Here came another burst of concern. “I’ll be fine,” she finally answered her brother.

  He smirked and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Remember, she does it out of love.”

  “I know.” She did, and she appreciated her mother’s love, just not her lectures.

  Mom engulfed Gabby in a bear hug.

  “Whoa!” She fought to stay upright with the impact. “Hey, Mom.”

  “There’s my sweet girl,” she said, not loosening her hold.

  “I’m okay, really.” Last night’s attack had been far less scarring than Asim’s.

  Her mom stood back and slipped a strand of hair behind Gabby’s ear. “It’s a mother’s right to worry.” Her gaze landed on the gold locket hanging at Gabby’s breastbone. She lifted her hand to the gift her mom had given her—with a duplicate to Kenzie—the day of her father’s funeral. The locket held a picture of her dad, and Gabby never left home without it.

  Her mom’s gaze narrowed. “You sure you’re okay?”

  She offered a soft smile. “I promise.”

  Her mom shook her head with a sigh. “Such a brave girl.” She shifted at the sight of Kenzie approaching. “Such brave girls, my daughters.”

  “Hey, Gabs,” Kenzie said, greeting her with a hug, her locket bumping against Gabby’s during the embrace.

  “Hey, there.” She hugged back, the tension gripping her limbs finally slackening.

  It was good to be home.

  Noah’s gaze shifted from his survey of the water’s edge to Kenzie, and without his saying a word, she nodded. He’d just transferred protection of Gabby to her, which was totally unnecessary.

  At the shooting range, where Noah had taught them to use a gun, Gabby had always been the better shot. With her Springfield XD-S tucked in her cross-body purse, she was ready to adequately defend herself. Why she’d chosen the small sequined clutch for the banquet where her gun wouldn’t fit was beyond her. It normally didn’t leave her side, and the attack reminded her precisely why. Thankfully, it’d been in her lockbox at work, so she was packing once again, if the need arose.

  Noah’s coworker Rissi Dawson grabbed her pink SUP board and paddle and waved at Gabby as their gazes caught. She’d missed her friend. Maybe it was good she’d come back with Noah, after all, despite her hesitation to see Finn.

  Logan Perry, another of Noah’s coworkers, came up from behind her in vintage Jams. “Hey, Gabby.”

  “Hey, Logan.” She chuckled at the ’80s-style board shorts. He sure knew how to put a smile on her face.

  “Good to see you,” he said over his shoulder as he rushed past her with his SUP board and paddle. He lined up next to Noah and Rissi at the ocean’s edge. Their competitors from NCIS stood in a row beside them—toes sinking into the water-drenched sand.

  The whistle blew, and Gabby took a seat beside her sister on the tie-dyed blanket. She wished Fiona and Owen were there. She couldn’t wait to see her favorite rug rats.

  Rissi hit the water, balancing on her board and paddling out to sea. Moving up and over a cresting wave, she worked her way into a smooth rhythm. She didn’t bother looking back to see who followed. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the buoys lining the course toward Surf City and then back down.

  The ocean’s breeze and rocking surface tested her balance as she paddled the arduous course. She was thankful she’d thought to tie back her hair in the gusting wind.

  Reaching the northernmost point of the course, she maneuvered around the buoy and headed back for the finish line. The undertow tugged hard as she paddled, her arms burning with exertion.

  “I’m gaining on you,” NCIS agent Travis Jones shouted. He wou
ld be making the turn around the buoy in no time.

  “Ignore him,” Logan said as she passed by him less than a minute later.

  “You got this,” Noah added as he reached a speed indicating he had saved his strength for the homestretch.

  Digging in hard against surging waves, she widened her stance, keeping her focus in the direction of the finish line, on the warmth of the sun as it rose in the sky.

  “You’re mine, Dawson,” Travis called, not far behind.

  Not this time.

  The spectators came into view. Noah’s niece and nephew skipped down the dune crossing, their dad, Mark, scurrying after them.

  Paddling hard, she angled into shore.

  Twenty more yards. Ten . . .

  Her heart thudded in her chest, thwacking in her ears.

  Travis’s paddle smacked close on her heels.

  “Come on, Ris, you got this,” Noah hollered from nearby—the three now in a neck-and-neck battle for first.

  “Go, Ris,” Logan hollered, his baritone voice cheering her on.

  The taste of victory overpowered the salty spray of the sea. She thrust her paddle in, shifting to keep her board balanced as she rode a wave into shore. The tip of her board hit the sand seconds before Travis’s and then Noah’s.

  “All right, Ris!” Noah rushed to her side, clapping his large hand on her shoulder. “Way to win the first event!”

  She glanced at Travis and smiled at the pinched expression on his face.

  She’d finally beat him. Adrenaline burned through her limbs as she moved for the refreshment stand, where a volunteer offered her a bottle of Gatorade. She took a long swig of the purple drink. She may have won the first challenge, but she had two more strenuous ones to go. Noting a buildup of clouds to the west, she hoped a storm wouldn’t cancel the competition—and her chance to beat him again.

  seven

  Finn spotted Fletcher’s boat thirty feet below. There were zero signs of movement aboard the vessel’s deck. He caught sight of a Coast Guard response boat idling in the distance.