Chapter 4 #2
His expression remained professionally neutral and welcoming, giving nothing away.
Either Gabi hadn't mentioned me to her family—which was entirely possible, given how things had ended—or McNamara was considerably better at hiding his personal thoughts than most people.
Either scenario left me walking a tightrope.
If he didn't know about me, I wanted to keep it that way until I'd had a chance to talk to Gabi first. And if he did know, well, given the protective nature of most families, he might be more inclined to plant his fist in my face than welcome my assistance.
For now, I'd keep things strictly professional and see how the wind blew.
"You ever been through a hurricane before, LaRue?" McNamara asked, his tone conversational but assessing.
"Plenty of them. I'm a bayou boy, born and bred down in Louisiana. I'm just recently posted to the Nag's Head station, so this'll be my first Atlantic hurricane. Used to them sweeping up from the Gulf of Mexico, but I don't expect the fundamentals are much different here than they were back home."
I watched his face for any flicker of recognition, any sign that the mention of Louisiana might have triggered a memory of conversations with Gabi. But there wasn't so much as a twitch.
"Was that where you were stationed before? Louisiana?"
"Came from a brief posting out in Seattle.
" The posting that was supposed to have been the making of my career, the golden opportunity I'd been too stupid to recognize for the trap it was.
"But before that, I worked Gulf Coast drug interdiction operations for several years.
Saw my fair share of storms down there, from tropical depressions all the way up to Category 5 monsters. "
"Seattle's a long damned way from the South." Something in his tone suggested he understood exactly how far away that really was—not just in miles, but in culture, climate, and everything that made a place feel like home.
I flashed him an easy grin and let a little more bayou slip into my voice, the accent I'd spent years learning to dial back for professional advancement.
"You ain't wrong about that. I surely do appreciate being back in the South, where everybody understands that the default when you say 'tea' is sweet and iced, and they actually know how to make it proper instead of serving you some bitter leaf water with a packet of sugar on the side. "
McNamara's laugh was genuine, the kind of shared understanding that passed between people who'd both suffered through bad tea in foreign territories. "Amen to that, brother. How long do we have y'all for?"
"For the duration of the emergency. We're equipped and authorized to assist with evacuation coordination, facility security, and emergency communications infrastructure.
" I gestured toward our gear, neatly organized and clearly substantial.
"Brought our own supplies and equipment, so we won't be taxing your local resources or getting in your way. "
"Much appreciated. I heard there's already been two separate brawls at the island market this morning over supplies. People fighting over the last roll of toilet paper like it's gonna save anybody from having their roof ripped clean off their house."
"There's something about weather panic that always makes people lose their damn minds over toilet paper, bread, and milk." I flashed him a wry, knowing smile. "Like they're planning to make the world's most depressing French toast while they wait out the apocalypse."
McNamara chuckled at that, and I could see some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Good. Building rapport with local emergency personnel was always crucial, but in this case, it carried extra weight.
"You got family riding things out here on the island?" I asked, keeping my tone casual, professionally curious. Just one emergency responder asking another about personal logistics that might affect operational availability.
"My wife's pregnant with our third child.
She and our kids are planning to ride things out with my parents here on Hatterwick, so that frees me up to deal with whatever crisis management we need to handle.
" His voice carried the particular mix of pride and worry that came with being responsible for both a family and a community in danger.
Nothing was mentioned about his sister-in-law.
Was Gabi planning to evacuate with the tourists and seasonal residents?
Was she staying to help with medical emergencies?
Working at the clinic through the storm?
According to our briefing materials, the island clinic was designated as essential services and would remain operational throughout the emergency.
She'd most likely be there, putting herself at risk to help others, because that was the kind of person she was.
Not that I could ask about her without raising questions I wasn't remotely ready to answer.
Forcing myself to lock that particular curiosity away for later, I clapped my hands together with professional enthusiasm. "Well then, put us to work, Captain. The clock's ticking, and we've got a lot to accomplish before Hannah decides to pay y'all a visit."