Chapter 2
Dane didn’t have to hold onto her for her protection as he pulled her under the pier, but he needed to keep her close for his emotional stability.
To keep his soul from exploding. After a minute, he surfaced with her under the pier, to the roar of flames and the distant sound of fire trucks blasting their horns.
“Dane, what—who?”
“Shh. It’s all right.” He said the words for his own reassurance as much as hers. It had been too close a call. The dangerous pounding in his chest continued, reminding him how close he’d come to losing the only thing that mattered.
“The shack,” she said, a distraught catch in her voice. They both peered around a post at the hot tall flames as they licked close to the trees and the neighbors. He prayed the firemen got there in time to prevent collateral damage.
“It’s only a pile of timber and nails,” he said. “We’ll build a bigger and better shack.” But he stopped short. Because would he? Would they ever be safe here again? Someone was going all in to destroy him. Full tilt. No subtlety at all. No caution. No warning.
Someone ruthlessly violent, someone with means, someone with balls the size of Jupiter, had just declared war on him. And Shana. The anger, determination and gritty fight that had sustained him all his life were overshadowed by the stark dread of losing her now that he finally had her.
Or he almost had her. They weren’t married yet.
Someone was clearly out to get them. Whoever had done this had a lot of juice.
“We’re not going back. Blowing up our house is the boldest move a body can make outside a war zone. Doubly so for a home on a vacation island heading into the tourist season.”
“But we need to find out who did this—we need to stop them. We can’t go into hiding forever. I’m not ready to go crawl under a rock somewhere as if my life is over.” Was her chin tilted at an accusing angle or was he being paranoid?
“You think I am, girlie?”
She stared at him, green eyes glittering under spiky wet eyelashes, drops of seawater beading down her temples, down her forehead, dripping off the end of her perfect nose and her extravagant lips.
She wasn’t going to answer him and, as they both held onto the leg of the pier, hidden by the shadows, he knew they couldn’t stay long.
People would come looking for them. Sooner than later.
He cringed when he saw the state police vehicle careen into the yard past the fire trucks and onto the lawn.
Captain Colin Lynch jumped from the car.
Their good friend—his soon-to-be best man—headed straight for the fire chief.
Cap would find out how the fire started and he’d be looking for Dane and Shana.
There was no way Dane wanted him to find them here. He’d let Cap know they were alive and well in his own time. Not now.
“We’re dead as far as our would-be killer is concerned. We’ll be safer letting everyone else think it too. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t going after the f—cker. It means we’ll have to do our investigation under the radar,” he said.
She nodded. He pulled her arm off the pier.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
It was a reasonable question but he had no answer. Yet.
“You’ll be the first to know as soon as my plan comes together.
Lucky thing I do my best thinking underwater.
” Holding onto her arm, as if he needed to make sure she’d follow, he dove under the water.
They needed to stay under as much as possible until they rounded the jetty where they could find a way to get to shore.
Dusk settled over them, making the light from the flames stand out in the sky even from the distance they’d managed to gain on the other side of the jetty.
He knew Cap’s officers would search the house for them—or for their bodies.
But he also knew Cap would look for them elsewhere.
He’d check out back. He’d check the water.
Dane swam with Shana into the shallows and stayed low, then partially stood so they could walk. There were people out on decks and walking the beach, so they’d need to be careful not to be spotted.
Dane and Shana would be recognizable, not only because they were fully clothed and drenched, but because they were minor celebrities on the island. Dane wanted to take no chances. He headed under another pier.
“Where are we going, Dane?” she asked again. He knew she wouldn’t follow him for much longer before making a mutiny play.
She would have ideas of her own.
“Where do you want to go?”
“I think we should go to Cap’s.”
He should have known.
“Too obvious. He’ll be watched. Whoever set off the explosion is in the area and will be looking for official confirmation of the kill. Cap is front and center on that stage.”
“Then where?”
He almost smiled at her defensive tone, but he was looking past her at two small green lights glowing in the semidarkness.
The Coast Guard station wasn’t too far away. Another mile in the water, slow going but doable.
“Let’s make a visit to Captain Vendi.”
“Vendi? He’s just as official as Cap.”
“Except they’re not looking at a boating accident.
They’re looking at a house explosion. Vendi isn’t going to be involved in the investigation.
We can make contact with him and he’ll go along with keeping us undercover.
Besides, we need someone with access to official channels to help with our investigation. ”
“Are you proposing that we sleep at the Coast Guard station?” She looked askance at him as he tugged her arm again, pulling her back into the water. They’d need to skirt around the moored boats and look out for moving craft. At least it was a nice night for a swim.
He didn’t answer her because he had no answer. Yet again.
The basement at the Lucky Parrot was a better choice, he knew. It was already decked out for overnight guests and had an IT setup from when Acer—his friend Jeremiah Acerman—had used the space to hide out during a prior mission.
Rolling to his back, he eyed her.
“What?” she said, a little breathless.
“You’re out of shape, girlie.”
“I just got back from a ten-mile run, Mr. Legend. I’d beat your ass in a swimming race any time you want to challenge me—except tonight.”
“We’ll stay at the Lucky Parrot.”
She stopped and he could tell she stood, finding purchase on the rocky shore under the water as they approached the Coast Guard station pier. Dane angled right and swam strong for the beach before standing and walking to the short stone wall of the property adjoining the station.
She caught up with him as he crouched low and walked fast up along the fence toward the street.
He aimed to go to the basement door and wait until he knew everyone but Vendi was gone for the night.
He was taking a chance, but only a small one, that Vendi would be there late.
The man practically lived his job. Probably why they got along so well.
It was a lifestyle more than a job for Vendi. Same as for Dane. Same as for Shana.
“No,” she whispered. “We can’t stay at the Parrot. That place is no good for anything more than a base of operations. I can’t stay holed up there.”
“You’re awfully fussy for a woman on the run with a rabid killer after her.”
“They’re not after me. They’re after you.”
She sounded certain and he couldn’t argue with her logic.
Glancing around the fence, Dane saw that Vendi’s truck was the only one still parked at the station. He waved Shana on and ran up the stairs. Taking another quick look through the window of the door, he saw that the public office was unmanned. He rapped on the door.
“He’ll never hear you,” she said. She pulled her phone from a zipped waterproof compartment in her running shorts and tapped it on.
When it lit up, he checked his surprise.
Dane always made a point of appearing to remain cool, whether he was or not. So far his cool had held up often enough to keep him alive.
“That’s a throwaway phone, right?”
“Of course.” She gave him a half frown.
He watched her tap in Vendi’s number while seawater dripped from her hair down her arms.
“You have Vendi’s number memorized?” His cool was gone. He found it next to impossible to control his irritable, irrational jealousy where Shana was concerned, no matter how unreasonable he knew it was.
Putting the phone to her ear, she smiled at him with an aren’t-you-cute-to-be-jealous look. Irritability slid toward a hotter, almost angry end of the spectrum on his meter until he heard Vendi on the other end of her line. Dane snatched the phone from her.
“Vendi, this is Blaise. We’re at your front door. Unofficially. Let us in, but don’t raise any alarms.” He clicked off.
Shana shook her head, but a faint smile still tilted one side of her kissable mouth. He noticed goose bumps on the wet skin of her arms and would have embraced her to share his heat—he always had heat to spare when he was in her vicinity—but Vendi pulled the door open and they slipped inside.
He hadn’t turned on the lights and said nothing as he led them through the office and downstairs.
A ping sounded on Shana’s phone.
“What the hell is going on with you two? The explosion—”
Dane pushed Shana inside and nodded at Vendi.
“The beach shack is gone.”
“I knew it had something to do with you. Damn,” Vendi said. He turned and went down the stairs to their right, into the dark, leaving him with Shana in the small entryway.
Shana held her phone and tapped it to check the message. Dane didn’t like that she’d gotten a message. A foreboding crept up his spine and took root in his chest, tightening it, as he watched her read the message.
Pale fear drained the remaining color from her face.
“What does it say?” Dane grabbed the phone to see for himself, the thumping in his tight chest too insistent to allow him to wait for her answer.
The text said: Boom!
Followed by picture of a cartoon explosion.
Followed by another cartoon that he didn’t understand and yet it chilled his blood.