Chapter 2
Mackenzie Grant, Mac to everyone, stood next to her boat captain Burt as he guided the vessel back into port.
It was another hot day in the Caribbean, and she was looking forward to a cold shower and beer—exactly in that order.
Her back ached from all the sharks they had hauled into the boat for research, and she could use something to ease all of her muscles.
“Youotaybes?” Burt asked.
Mac was used to Burt’s thick accent. She wasn’t sure where he was from.
It wasn’t British, or even Irish, or any accent she was familiar with for that matter.
Most of his words were slurred together as if he couldn’t be bothered to enunciate them.
It had been frustrating to communicate with him at first; it was because he was the best boat captain on the island that she had stuck with him for so long.
After eight years together, she understood him fluently. He was also knowledgeable about sharks and had a passion for them like she did.
“I’m concerned, Burt.”
“The harks?”
“Of course, the sharks.” What else would she be concerned about? The weather? That never changed except in hurricane season, but that was a different subject matter. The sharks were her one and only true concern.
She had hoped to see more sharks, but every week there were less and less.
As if something was driving them out or worse, someone was killing them.
Mac had an idea about the cause of their decline, but without proof, it was just a hunch.
One couldn’t go around accusing people of killing sharks without proof.
Especially if it was the person she thought was responsible for it.
“I haven’t seen Lucy in weeks. Her tracker isn’t working,” Mac complained as her hand balled into a fist. She wished she could deck the man she thought responsible for it, but it wouldn’t do her any good.
The man would just end up suing her or putting her in jail, and then she really couldn’t help the sharks.
“We’ll hind er,” Burt said, sounding confident. More so than she was. That was Burt for you. He was a seasoned seafarer and had seen everything. Few things surprised him. It was one of the things she liked best about him.
“If she hasn’t been slaughtered and turned into chum herself,” Mac mused angerly. She wished she knew where the sharks were going. There was a chance their migration pattern was adapting due to all the changes on the island and increase in human population, but she feared there was more to it.
Everyone kept telling her she was being paranoid, but she knew these sharks better than she knew herself. Something was going on. She could feel it; she just needed to prove it.
Burt docked the boat and jumped onto the dock barefoot. The man didn’t believe in shoes, or he didn’t own any. She had never seen him wear any. Mac on the other hand always wore tennis shoes on the boat and sandals on shore. Splinters were hard to get out of one’s foot.
“So dar, bes. Les ge e beer,” Burt offered her a hand and helped from the boat. “Geh ur mind off tings.”
She’d planned to shower first, but suddenly a beer sounded perfect. “Let’s.” Worrying wasn’t going to give her more answers. She needed to give her brain a break. Easier said than done.
They walked down to their favorite bar and sat outside. There was a small dancing area to the corner, and the view looked out over the ocean. The sun was getting ready to set; the bright blue sky was darkening and turning pink.
The weather was still warm but had cooled by several degrees as the sun went down.
The waitress set their beers on the table without them having to order.
They were frequenters there. With it being a small island, there were only so many bars, and people learned your habits quickly.
Condensation was already dripping down the side of the bottle.
As much as Mac had been looking forward to a beer, it sat untouched in front of her. Her mind was too preoccupied to let alcohol inhibit her senses. Her gaze was fixated on the ocean. The water was calm, only the gentle crash of the waves as it reached the shoreline.
She knew under that calm surface that a world of sea creatures inhabited it below. Fish swam; sharks should be getting ready to feed. If only she knew where they were.
“Don thin so mug bud it.”
“How can I not?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“Sharks are disappearing, and I know the cause.” She just wished she knew how to prove it.
Mac was a biologist, not a police officer or a journalist. The police wouldn’t help her without proof, and she didn’t know the first thing about how to find it.
A deep laugh pulled her from her thoughts and focused her on the bane of her existence. Her hand clenched into a fist in her lap. The other clutched her beer bottle. How she wanted to storm over to him and dump its contents on his head.
Her sharks were disappearing, threatening the ecosystem, and he was sitting there, drinking with his investors or whoever they were without a care in the world. He thought money solved everything. Money didn’t help the ecosystem. Money wasn’t going to bring her sharks back.
“Ou cana pov id, Mac.”
“Not yet. Maybe I’ll kidnap him and force him to tell me. Tell the world what a crook he is.”
Burt barked out in laugher. “I pay ta see ad.”
She knew he wasn’t speaking in terms of physically kidnapping him. She hefted fifteen-hundred-pound sharks to her boat on a regular basis. Some weighed more. He wasn’t referring to her five-foot-nine height either.
Mac wasn’t the tallest woman on the island, but she wasn’t the shortest either.
It was his reference in getting close to him: Miles Banks, the owner of the Sunset Meridian hotel chain.
His newest hotel was being built on the island along the southeastern coast. Right where all of her sharks used to gather.
The man was a billionaire with not only a hotel chain but also political ties and an investment in the oil industry.
In other words, he was untouchable for someone like her.
Even if he was the reason the sharks were disappearing and she had proof, he’d bury it and her.
It was why she hadn’t outright accused him yet.
He was also always surrounded by an entourage of bodyguards. Getting close to him would be next to impossible, especially since he only allowed business partners and his arm floozies near him.
Mac would rather throw herself to the sharks than let him touch her.
“I could pay a girl to get close to him and roofie him,” she suggested; that had more appeal than pretending to be interested in him.
More than one woman on the island found him attractive with his tall height and well-built body he showed off on his morning runs in just a pair of shorts.
His body, looks, and charm did nothing for her because underneath it all, she knew he was a murderer.
“Jus le id go.” Burt finished his drink and stood up.
“You know I can’t.” She could never stand idle while her sharks were being threatened.
They were more than just animals to her.
Movies made them out to be bloodthirsty killers that killed everything in sight, when in fact they were highly intelligent and interesting creatures.
There was so much information people didn’t know about them, and at the rate things were going in the world, there wouldn’t be sharks much longer, and then the oceans would be in real danger. Well, not while she was around.
“The fin a ma and foret aboot id fo a or or so.” Burt gave her a saucy wink. “I see ya tomerow an we fin the harks.”
Mac wished she could be so optimistic, but she feared the longer Miles Banks was here that more of her sharks would continue to disappear.
This was her life’s work, and she couldn’t just let it go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mac pasted on a smile she didn’t feel; no sense in continuing the conversation where only she thought something more nefarious was going on.
Since she was a child and had seen her first shark at the aquarium, she’d been fascinated by them. She had traveled all over the world studying different species and habitats. The Caribbean had a fascinating ecosystem with an array of different species which was why she’d chosen to remain here.
Now this hotel chain owner was threatening it all. Not that she could prove it, but shortly after he’d bought the land, sharks slowly started disappearing. Take from that what you would.
He may not be doing it personally, but he had a fleet of personnel at his disposal to do his dirty work for him. She needed to find a way to get him to confess or, better yet, make him leave. The question was how.
“You have the look of a woman who wants to harm someone.”
Mac’s gaze shifted from the shark murderer to the newcomer as she looked up. Mac clamped her mouth shut so it didn’t fall open as she stared at the tall, gorgeous man.
Sandy brown hair that was cut short on the sides and curly and untamable on top. He had golden eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. He reminded her of a lion. His face was pulled into a kind smile. A lion that could devour her and she wasn’t going to complain about that one bit.
Her sex clenched. Whoa, easy girl. It had been a while, but that didn’t mean she was ready to jump in the sack with the first guy who drew her attention.
Her eyes travelled down to his broad shoulders and tapered waist that couldn’t be hidden even under his loose-fitting powder blue short-sleeved shirt.
She noticed the prosthetic right arm that started at his elbow.
Designs were etched into the fiberglass that mimicked a tattoo.
The table blocked out the rest of the view of him, but she got the gist.
His accent was American. Not uncommon in this area. Tourists flocked here all throughout the year, wanting to escape the weather or just life in general.
“Maybe I do, what’s it to you?”
“Because I saw the look, I could be considered a witness. If I’m to be a witness, I’m curious what causes such a murderous look. If questioned,” he added.
He was funny, she’d give him that. Out of all the pick-up lines she’d heard in her life, this was a good one, but she wasn’t going to be swayed just yet.
Mac didn’t make a habit of flirting with strangers or tourists for that matter, but there was something fun about it this man, and she wasn’t in a hurry to send him away.
“Why, are you going to tell the local authorities on me?”
“Hardly, who do you have in your sights?” he asked as he pivoted on his heel to gaze back where her angry stare had been at a moment ago.
“His name is Miles Banks. He owns a hotel that’s being built on the beach up a ways,” she answered. The name might not mean anything to this stranger, and since she wasn’t actually contemplating murder, she wasn’t worried this man would rat her out.
The stranger turned back to look at her. “Do you have something against hotel owners?”
“Do you always question people you don’t know?”
The man shrugged as if her answer didn’t make a difference to him. “I find myself curious why a woman in paradise looks anything but happy.”
It wasn’t the first time the island had been considered paradise.
Who could complain about good weather and being surrounded by the ocean?
“One person’s paradise can be another person’s hell.
” Not that she found the Caribbean hell.
She loved it here. It was hot and humid, but she enjoyed it.
It was amazing to fall asleep and wake up to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
Hurricanes could be a problem, but there was no place in the world that didn’t have something negative.
“If you find it hell, why don’t you leave?
” he inquired, taking the vacant seat Burt had left open.
Mac wasn’t sure yet how she felt about him taking the initiative to sit down.
She was used to being in charge of every situation, and this man had just walked in and now sat down like he had the right.
“I didn’t say it was my version of hell. Nor did I invite you to sit down.”
“Is it paradise then?” he asked instead of taking her hint that she hadn’t invited him for an extended conversation.
“It is to me. What about you?”
The stranger looked around. “It has its appeal.”
“When did you fly in?”
“Today.”
“Where are you from?”
“Now who’s the one asking questions?” He quirked one eyebrow.
Touché. “I find myself curious about a man who could talk to anyone at this bar but chose me. And don’t say it’s because of the way I looked at that man.”
The man smirked in humor. “Are you trying to get me to admit I found you attractive, and I was looking for an excuse to talk to you?”
“Were you?” she countered, propping her elbows on the tabletop and placing her chin in her palms, resting her face on them.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I do find you appealing.” His eyes travelled down her body.
Mac felt a fluttering in her belly. The man was hot, and she was in need of a distraction before she confronted Miles in front of the whole island. “I’m Mackenzie Grant, but everyone calls me Mac,” she introduced herself and held out her hand.
“Barry Campbell.” He clasped his much larger hand around hers.
She felt the rough calluses much like her own.
He was a man used to manual labor. Not a man who sat idly behind a desk.
She was starting to like him more and more.
Maybe she should take Burt’s advice and forget about her troubles for a little while.
“Tell me something, Barry.”
“What’s that?”
“Did you come to island alone?” She didn’t see a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean anything anymore. Or he could be on the island with friends.
“Planning on shifting your murderous thoughts from the hotel guy to me? I promise, I’m not an easy kill.”
“No.” She found herself chuckling at his off-brand of humor. She had never met someone who could joke about death so easily. “I was going to suggest getting out of here but didn’t know if someone would miss you.”
“Now you really do sound like a killer.”
“Are you scared of little old me?” She batted her eyes in a flirtatious manner.
“I’m not scared, and your neither little nor old.”
“How old do you think I am?”
“Now I am wise enough not to answer that question,” Barry replied, barking in laughter.
Points for him. “Well, if you aren’t afraid, come on then.” She stood up and held out her left hand to take his right. Mac wanted to assure him that his arm didn’t bother her.
Mac waited, her heart pounding. She had never propositioned a man like this before. A total stranger. She didn’t know what his reaction would be. He could agree or tell her to get lost.
“Yes, ma’am.” Barry grinned, standing up and taking her hand.