Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
T he necropsy report on Onyx hit Xanthe’s inbox just after lunch.
Grateful for something that might finally take her mind off Blaine and that horrific scene she’d walked into at his house at the start of the week, she opened it and scanned the contents intently.
Slightly elevated toxin levels, but nothing high enough that it should have impacted Onyx to the point where it disoriented her or made her too ill to fight the current and waves. No lacerations, contusions or other visible signs of trauma.
She had been significantly emaciated, but they’d known that. Her stomach contents were normal, mostly Chinook salmon. No parasites or other pathogens noted, and Onyx was only middle-aged when she died.
So. Not a ship strike. Not a gastric or intestinal blockage. Not disease. What was left?
Only sound. That had to be it. Xanthe was convinced it was connected.
“Hey, Al. Sam,” she said, her instincts buzzing like crazy.
Al slid his headphones off, and Sam looked over at her. “Yeah?”
“There’s nothing in the necropsy results.”
“Damn.”
“I’m gonna check with Lachlan again, see if any of his contacts will tell him whether there was any military underwater sonar testing conducted that day.” They’d given her nothing, but she was a civilian. And a female. Maybe he’d have better luck getting more detailed intel.
“Or any subs in the area.”
“And that.” She took a few screen shots and sent them to Lachlan, along with the request to help them solve the sonar puzzle. “Did the rest of K Pod come back into range yet?”
They’d been keeping an eye on the surviving members using the new drone Blaine had given them, but the animals had been frustratingly uncooperative about staying within range.
All the visual evidence they’d collected so far, along with reports from vessels in the area, seemed to confirm that Triton and little Zephyr were doing well.
But Xanthe wouldn’t be satisfied until she got a closer look herself.
Just as she thought it, a text came through on her phone from the float plane charter company.
“Okay, Charlie’s at the dock. I’m off,” she said to the others.
Sam had been awfully quiet the past few days, but had stopped giving her attitude and dirty looks, so Xanthe would take it.
Even if it was out of pity because her house had burned down.
“I’m gonna stop at home to grab some stuff before I head down to the harbor. I’ll keep you guys posted.”
“We still on for wine and appies with Mae and Willow after?” Allistair asked.
“Yeah, I’ll text you once I get back to Whalebone Cove. But feel free to go to my place early and hang out there, because I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.” She liked having his company. It helped her from obsessing about the ugly and painful situation with Blaine.
“Sounds good. Sam, you coming too?”
The redhead looked between the two of them and mumbled something about having plans.
Alrighty then. “Later, guys.” Xanthe got in her rental and drove back toward town, cutting up the hill to Willow’s place.
And got the shock of her life to see Blaine’s sleek black Audi parked out front.
She braced herself as she turned into the driveway, pulse accelerating. Blaine stood on the front porch talking to Mae. They stopped, watched her climb out of the vehicle and start toward them.
The intensity of Blaine’s stare was like a physical weight pressing on her chest.
“Hi, young lady,” Mae said. “I just popped by with some trays of appies for later.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Well,” she said when Xanthe stopped at the foot of the front steps and neither she nor Blaine said anything to each other. “Think I’ll head home to tackle the rest of my chores. See you later, Xanthe. Text me if you need anything else.”
“Okay, thanks.” She held Blaine’s stare as Mae walked past her.
“Hi,” he said, looking amazing in jeans and a black sweater she was betting was cashmere. The sleeves were pushed up past his elbows, revealing the bandage covering his right forearm.
She couldn’t get a read on him. But he definitely wasn’t angry now. Her stomach muscles relaxed slightly. “Hi. So, you’re back?”
He nodded, searching her eyes. “Can we go inside and talk?”
She wanted to say no. Hadn’t expected him to be here, or to have this out yet. The timing wasn’t good. “I don’t have much time. I’m going up on a research flight in an hour.”
“This won’t take long.”
Because there wasn’t much to say? She couldn’t get a read on him. His tone seemed neutral. “Fine.” She’d rather get this dealt with and move on anyway.
She went to walk past him, catching that gorgeous, woodsy scent on the way by.
His hand caught her shoulder. She stopped. Looked up into his face. His annoyingly gorgeous face that was etched into her brain that she pictured every time she closed her eyes or her mind wandered. Even though he’d hurt her and treated her like shit.
Without a word he pulled her into a hug. No, not just a hug. It felt like he enfolded her in his arms. Holding her in a grip that bordered on desperate.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough. “You don’t know how fucking sorry.”
Ah, shit. How was she supposed to stay mad now?
“Sorry for what you saw,” he continued, “and sorry for the way I reacted. I want to explain everything if you’ll give me a chance to tell you. God, I’ve missed you so damned much.” He squeezed her tighter. As if he couldn’t bear to let her go.
As if he was afraid she’d disappear forever if he did.
And God help her, the defensive wall she’d built up over the past few days collapsed in a heap of rubble.