17. Knox
“Shark!” Jubilee squealed.
A wise man once said that the two most important days in your life are the day you’re born, and the day you find out why. And today, Knox finally understood Jubilee’s “why.” She was born to manage social media accounts.
First, Luna had noticed that Reggie the turtle had a pattern on his shell that looked a bit like a smiley face. Jubilee turned that into a “Have a turtle-y awesome day!” meme, and so far, it had amassed over fifty thousand likes on Instagram. A video of him swimming had risen up the TikTok charts, and the sanctuary had gained hundreds of new followers on each platform. Donations were still a trickle, but as Baptiste said, fifty bucks was better than no bucks.
Neither of the girls was much good at construction work, so Knox and Ryder had decided to play to their strengths. They’d set up the new dining table in the fifth pool room and tasked the girls with creating a social media plan while monitoring the San Galli Aqua Group for any shark-related news. Seemed they’d gotten a hit.
“What does it say?” Knox asked, but Ryder was already leaning over Luna’s shoulder.
“‘Be careful out there, folks—just spotted a bull shark near No Man’s Rock. Didn’t get a great picture as I was too busy getting the heck out of there, but it looked like a big one!’”
Knox put down the can of sealant he’d been painting on a newly constructed pool and joined them. As long as the girls were safe in the same room, they could all get some work done. The picture was a blur that could have been a bull shark or a torpedo or a smudge on the lens.
“Where’s No Man’s Rock?”
Jubilee shrugged, and Luna rolled her eyes. “How should I know?”
Caro jogged in. She’d been keeping out of the way since Saturday. Now it was Monday, and Knox wasn’t sure whether she was avoiding Luna or him. Or both. Both was also a possibility. Mentioning spanking had been unprofessional, but fuck, that ass was asking for it.
“Stacey just messaged—there’s another shark post on Facebook,” she announced.
“We’re one step ahead of you. Where’s No Man’s Rock?”
“At the far end of Spice Island.”
“Where’s Spice Island?”
“Three miles farther east than Malavilla. When the Europeans first arrived, they set up plantations there. A couple of them still exist, but most of the land has been bought up by rich dicks in the finance industry.”
The low tax rates and a reasonable degree of secrecy had led to a thriving business district on Ilha Grande. Rumour said that Emmy and Black owned a bank there, but rumour also said that Emmy could control the weather, so Knox took the story with a grain of salt. If Emmy could control the weather, she wouldn’t curse so much when Alex made her run in the rain.
“Are we taking the truck or the boat?”
“The boat is probably easier.”
“Lead the way.”
* * *
Caro borrowed Ryder’s spare dive knife, and they set off for Spice Island with Baptiste captaining the boat and a faithful promise that she wouldn’t do anything reckless this time. If a turtle needed saving, she’d stay back and let Knox do the honours.
The journalist’s theory was an interesting one, and Knox couldn’t decide whether he wanted Stacey Custer to be wrong or right. If she was wrong, they’d be no closer to finding the person or persons who set the line at Coconut Cove. But if she was right, they had a much bigger problem. A poacher who’d managed to fly under the radar for at least two years. A poacher who thought outside the box and used innovative methods to hide his tracks. A poacher with the network to dispose of a significant number of turtles. This wasn’t an old-school islander fishing for his supper.
Jubilee, pleased to have something to do that didn’t involve scooping shit out of turtle pools, had combed through as many online San Galli groups as she could find and noted sixty-three shark sightings that didn’t seem entirely kosher. Caro had been horrified when she saw the list. Sixty-three bait lines that each caught, say, five turtles, would be 315 dead animals. A lot when they were talking about an endangered species. And it could be twice that—Knox had counted at least ten hooks on the line they’d stumbled across.
And then Jubilee had found more shark sightings in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. In Grenada. In Saint Lucia. In Aruba, Bonaire, Anguilla. A fatal shark attack off the coast of Puerto Rico had made everyone nervous. Well, almost everyone. It appeared as if the poachers had tried the same trick in Tobago, but those posts were filled with comments from excited divers heading out to look for the sharks and later comments expressing disappointment that they were nowhere to be found. The Tobago “sightings” had quickly tailed off.
The poaching problem might be much bigger than anyone had previously imagined.
“Try not to kick me today, okay?” Knox said as they suited up on deck.
Normally, he wouldn’t bother with a wetsuit when the water was this warm, but they had hooks and potentially turtles to deal with, and turtles had sharp beaks, so he figured a layer of neoprene couldn’t hurt. He’d explained the issue to Emmy, and extra equipment was en route from Blackwood’s base in the Bahamas, just in case it was needed. Emmy’s words of wisdom? Don’t let Luna do anything stupid. She’s paying us to protect her, and that includes from herself.
Knox only hoped that Ryder had gotten the memo too. His brother-in-arms had been a little cagey about his night-time jaunts with their client. When the motion sensor had pinged again last night, Knox had offered to take a turn at taming the dragon, but Ryder had waved him away. I’m already out of bed, bro. He’d already been dressed too. Had he been waiting for Luna to leave?
The idea of following crossed Knox’s mind, but that felt like crossing a line. Ryder was a professional. Knox had to trust that he knew what he was doing.
“It was an accident,” Caro said. “I didn’t even realise my foot connected.”
“Do we need to go through the rest of the list of things you shouldn’t do?”
“Again? No, Dad.”
Knox swallowed a chuckle. Under different circumstances, Caro was precisely the type of woman he went for. Feisty, brave, opinionated. He liked a challenge. He also liked the satisfaction of seeing them submit to him in bed.
But Caro would probably bite off his balls.
He checked her kit over and waved a hand toward the water. “After you.”
Damn, that ass…
The plan today was that they’d search slowly using a grid pattern. If they found a bait line, they’d record the scene and then remove it.
No Man’s Rock was a lumpy sandstone formation on the edge of the shore that sank into deep water, barren on the surface but teeming with life below the waterline. A school of butterflyfish milled around, a lionfish hung almost motionless in the water, and a moray eel peered at them from the safety of a crevice. Diving for pleasure was still a novelty for Knox, and although this afternoon’s trip wasn’t exactly recreational, at least he had a pretty woman by his side instead of a bearded asshole in a rebreather.
Caro turned and pointed, and he tore his gaze away from her assets in time to see a turtle swim past. A green turtle this time, and the first he’d seen in the wild. He followed its trajectory, and…fuck. He banged on his tank with a metal clip, hard enough to spook the creature. It swam off in a hurry, and Caro was about to start bitching, he could tell, when she saw it too. A thin, almost invisible line sloping down into the deep. Somehow, she managed to look both furious and gorgeous at the same time. Without thinking, he reached across to squeeze her hand, and those pretty blue eyes of hers narrowed. But she didn’t snatch her hand away. Hmm.
Knox began filming while Caro swam the length of the line. Nothing was caught up today, and the top appeared to be secured to something on the surface. After he’d recorded the scene, he coiled up the thin nylon rope, and damn, those hooks were sharp. Rather than untying the end, he left a yard or so floating in the water. If the cops had any sense, they’d keep watch from the shore and arrest the culprits when they returned to retrieve their catch.
Back on the boat, Caro called Vince right away. Knox watched as she paced the tiny deck with the phone to her ear, water dripping from her hair and running into her cleavage. His cock twitched when she paused facing away from him, one hand on her hip, and if Baptiste hadn’t been mere yards away, Knox might have made another highly inappropriate suggestion just to see the fire in Caro’s eyes. Between Lady P, Luna’s antics, and a trip to Europe to locate a wealthy businessman’s missing daughter—a daughter who was happily shacked up with all four members of a death metal band—he hadn’t hooked up with a woman in two months. He was gonna get RSI if he didn’t get laid soon.
“Yes, at No Man’s Rock. We left part of the rope in the water. All you have to do is—” Caro listened for a moment. “I know you’re short of manpower, but turtles are dying, Vince.” Another pause. “You know what? I’ll do it myself.”
She hung up and tossed the phone onto one of the padded seats, and it rang a second later. Her face twisted into a frown, then she sighed and answered.
“If you’re going to give me another lecture on staff shortages, I don’t want to hear it.” After a moment, she smiled. “I’m glad about that. Okay, dinner, and you can pick the restaurant. … This Thursday? Will you book a table?”
A table? She was going out for dinner with the cop? Knox hadn’t been a fan of Detective Fernandez when he arrested Luna, and he liked him even less now. Was he dating Caro? Or was it merely a friends-with-benefits arrangement?
“Vince is going to watch the beach himself, and he might co-opt a junior officer if there’s one available.”
“He’s coming right away?”
“Almost. He has to make a few calls first, and then he’s coming.”
“Did he try to duck out in the beginning?”
“He said he was too busy, but I can be very convincing.”
“You bribed him with dinner?”
Caro shrugged. “It’s nothing new. We often go out for dinner.”
“Right. So you two are a thing?”
It came out harsher than Knox had intended. More asshole-ish, and of course Caro picked up on that. She closed the distance between them, her chest just inches from his. And then she licked her fucking lips.
“What would you say if we were?”
“I’d say…” He swallowed hard and willed his cock not to react. “I’d say I was disappointed.”
“Interesting.” She smiled and stepped back. “That’s…interesting.”
Interesting? That was all she had to say? Apparently so, because she turned and walked into the cabin with Baptiste, ending the conversation.
Or so Knox thought.
They were unloading the boat when Knox stepped aside to let Caro climb onto the dock, but instead of squeezing past him, she stopped.
“Vince is probably more interested in your friend than in me.”
“Huh?”
“In Ryder.” When Knox didn’t reply fast enough, she poked him in the chest. Not on the bruised part, thank fuck. “Do keep up. Ryder’s gay? I heard Luna and Jubilee talking this morning.”
What the hell? Ryder still hadn’t told Luna he was straight? Then what were they doing on the beach all night?
“Vince is…gay?”
“He’s just a friend, okay?”
With that, Caro hopped up onto the dock and disappeared.