Chapter 37
On the back of his motorcycle, Cressida held on to Braden, her arms wrapped around this man who’d lied to her. Or rather, it was a lie of omission. She almost detested the feel of his taut back muscles and tight abdomen.
He’d returned Hawk’s pickup and opted to take his Ducati to the Pirates’ Bash for easier parking and a quicker escape if necessary.
So she held on and let the thoughts bombard her. Everything Evelyn had shared, the many possibilities of what could lie at the location, and the fact that her mother was on her way to Hidden Bay. She could already be here.
I shouldn’t be surprised.
Wasn’t it just like Mom to try to sabotage Cressida’s efforts?
Braden claimed her mother hadn’t told him the reason she was coming.
The woman was probably already in the state, making her way to Hidden Bay.
Cressida shoved concerns of her mother behind her for now.
She’d deal with her when she saw her. But thinking about something else wasn’t as easy as she hoped.
She couldn’t forget Evelyn’s words about forgiving her father for the role he’d played in the loss of her husband and, in the end, the loss of her son. And yet, Evelyn Monroe still forgave him.
Seriously, how had she done it?
Cressida couldn’t fathom forgiving her mother, but she had to admit that resentment and bitterness, the estrangement, were eating her up inside.
How, Lord, how?
How do I forgive?
Braden decelerated as they entered the packed marina parking lot.
More parking was created for the bash. Time to focus on the clear and present danger.
Looking for Diggins. Cressida had seen him when she’d arrived at Evelyn’s safe house.
Then Cressida and Braden had searched the woods near the house, but Diggins was nowhere to be found.
Supposedly, he was an important figure at the Pirates’ Bash, so his presence was required.
Cressida had wanted to attend anyway from the moment she’d heard about it—for research purposes, of course.
Except now her reason for attending was far different.
No mulling about and free-spirited exploring to learn what she could from the locals about the region and their impressions of the folklore surrounding the Specter’s Bounty.
She hopped off the motorcycle, and Braden secured both their helmets. The sun was shining, and it was a beautiful day for the bash, but in the distance, clouds boiled up again. No matter. Washingtonians were accustomed to the rain.
She didn’t even want to look at Braden, not really, but they had to work together and, in this instance, trust each other. Then when this was over, she was done with him.
Forgive.
Okay, she might forgive him because—she had to admit—he’d had a good reason to keep the information from her, but that didn’t prevent her from walking away without seeing what could happen between them.
She gave a quick glance his way. He was surveying the crowd, his expression as intense as she’d ever seen over the course of a few days.
He caught her looking but then quickly focused back on the crowd. “You know you should wait with Evelyn and be safe. Let me finish this.”
“And get all the glory? This will get justice for Dad. Plus, it could get me my career back.”
“Is it worth your life?”
“Is it worth yours?”
“I’m trained for this.”
“Good, then you can protect me. You’re trained to protect people, aren’t you? I could tell from the start. That’s how you knew my mother, isn’t it? You worked as a DSS agent to protect her?” she said.
“Yes.”
Cressida never dealt with the many people her mother worked with. Often her mother traveled abroad for months at a time. But Cressida had seen a few of the DSS agents. Never Braden, though. “How long did you work with her? Where were you assigned?”
“That’s a story for another time.”
“You mean a secret.”
He didn’t look at her, and that was telling.
“That’s right,” Cressida said. “I know she keeps secrets.”
“If you know, then why do you ask?”
“Because I’d love to know. We might not get another chance for you to tell me what she is holding over you.”
“You know that already.”
“Tell me about your niece, Braden.”
He started toward the boardwalk. “I’ll tell you everything after this is over. We need to focus, Cressida. Did you notice that the Sea Reaper is not out in the bay?”
“Maybe it’s at the marina. He brought it in for the bash.”
“I don’t see it, do you?” Braden led her over to the pier. “Let’s confirm one way or another.”
He reached for her, and she pulled away. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he picked up the pace. She had to walk faster to keep up with his long strides. People hung out on their boats, laughing and having a good time, waving at them as they passed.
“You know, it’s kind of interesting people are having fun with the idea of pirates, don’t you think?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, factually speaking, they were and still are thieves. Robbers. Murderers and rapists. Look at even the modern-day pirates off the coast of Africa.”
“Did you visit the region?”
“For research on one of Dad’s shipwrecks for the book. It was risky, but I had a great guide and protection.”
“Let’s hope everyone here at the bash is only pretending,” he said. “As for Diggins, I don’t see the Sea Reaper. So he was in the woods and now he’s not even in the bay. You think he knows you got the information he needed?”
“Pretty sure. I mean, why else was he waiting outside of her house? But then why did he leave?”
“Could be someone got to him. Something happened to him.” Braden pushed her behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re looking for Diggins, but Derek Harlan is here looking for us. Or rather . . . you.”
“The protector that Mom supposedly sent? Is he working for her? Or double-crossing her?”
“His prints were found in Evelyn’s house, so we can’t trust him.” Braden glanced down at her, holding her gaze for a few breaths more than necessary.
His presence, the longing to be with him, free from all this drama, coursed through her. But he was just like everyone else—untrustworthy. She tried to free herself from his protective grip, but he was granite.
“Wait,” he whispered.
Then suddenly, he quietly rushed her away, heading back toward the opposite end of the pier. “This guy shouldn’t be roaming around free. I thought he would already be arrested.”
“Why don’t you do it, then?” she asked. “We could find out who he’s working for. Oh, right, you’re not really working for the county. You’re working for my mother.”
She needed to shut down her passive-aggressive attitude, but it was hard.
He continued ushering her away, his grip on her tight. Cressida wanted to escape. Once the pier was behind them, he slowed and released her hand, then radioed the county sheriff’s dispatch, reporting their suspect had been spotted at the Pirates’ Bash.
“Are you going to take him down?”
“This isn’t a good place to do it. Too many people. Someone could get hurt. But once backup arrives, they’ll follow him and then grab him.” He released her hand and then walked along the beach toward the thickest part of the crowded Pirates’ Bash.
The truth was, she wanted to trust him, but he hadn’t given her a lot of choice. Or had he? “Listen, Braden.” She stopped walking, and he paused, then looked at her. “It’s just taking me time to come to terms with what’s happened. I’m sorry that my mother manipulated you, roped you into this.”
His steel-blue eyes softened, his stern expression brightened, if only a little. Then he gave a subtle nod. “Elise is getting her infusion today. Thank you for your help.”
Cressida had sent her mother a text that Braden’s niece’s medication had better be on track.
She wasn’t sure if her mother would respond or make things happen.
In fact, she had no idea if her text had been the one to restore the treatment.
Because how cruel for her mother to withhold that treatment, especially since she had the power to start it to begin with.
What was she holding over the clinicians in control? Cressida didn’t want to know.
“Sometimes I wonder who my mother really is. I don’t like to think of it, truly.
It seems to me that she’s someone who holds other people’s secrets and knows how to wield them to her benefit.
” She didn’t like where the thought took her, but it was within her nature to press forward. “What secret does she hold over you?”
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he asked.
She wasn’t earning brownie points with him.
Together they walked deeper into the crowded Pirates’ Bash.
People of all ages joined in laughter and fun, many of them dressed as rough and dirty sailors or pirates—all in good fun.
Sea shanties played over a tinny speaker.
Cressida ducked under a string of lights that hung haphazardly between two tented booths featuring carnival food—pretzels, fried fish, and crab cakes.
Funnel cakes, salted caramel apples, and “seafoam” candy.
What in the world? Cressida stopped at a booth. The line was short at the moment, so this was the perfect time. “I’m sorry but I need to try the seafoam candy.”
Braden scrunched up his face. “Doesn’t look good to me.”
She purchased the glob of blue-green-tinted, honeycomb-textured candy and moved away so the next person in line could approach, then handed Braden a chunk of it.
Cressida didn’t wait on him to try it and took a bite.
“Oh, it’s too sweet and minty. I’m not a fan.
I should have asked.” She chuckled but finished off the rest.
Braden hadn’t even tried his and handed it back to her, his expression serious. What was she doing having even a little fun at a time like this? He hadn’t asked the question, but she shrugged and chucked the rest in the trash.
Approaching her, a man dressed in a patched pirate coat swayed with a mug of beer, his face painted like a skull. This was supposed to be a family event, but she could see things getting out of hand.
And she was here to find Diggins. “Okay, I’m done testing the food.”
Braden pressed his hand against the small of her back as he urged her forward and deeper into the crowd. “Keep your head about you.”
Always.
“And let’s blend in.” He eyed the bandannas and eye patches at a booth.
“Are you serious? You aren’t going to look like you’re with the sheriff’s department anymore.”
“I don’t look like that now.”
Right, because he kept his badge in a leather case in his jacket pocket inside his black leather jacket.
He must have been getting nervous about her being at the Pirates’ Bash with Harlan searching for her. Diggins had to know that she had learned the truth, and he might have shared with others.
Cressida wanted justice for Dad, but she was getting nervous as well. “Look, if we don’t find Diggins soon, we should leave. Let him come to me.”
“That moment is now. We’re leaving. It doesn’t look like he’s here. I see some county deputies. Let’s head to them.”
A bloodcurdling scream erupted, and people scattered in every direction. Cressida was glad she’d held on to Braden’s hand because he pulled her out of the way and into the shadows between two tented booths.
Two deputies rushed through the crowd, heading toward the threat. Braden had called them to come and find Harlan, though there was other security at the bash.
“That’s just what Hidden Bay needs, more drama to scare the tourists away,” she said.
Or draw them in.
Keeping his grip on her arm, he said, “You’ll need to come with me while I check on what’s going on.”
He led her forward and out into the growing crowd that had now turned into gawkers holding their cell phones up to take videos.
The deputies were holding them back. Braden stepped through and dragged Cressida along with him.
Deputies guarded an alley, hidden by a tent flap propped up to block their view.
With Cressida in tow, Braden stepped around the deputies and behind the flap into the dark alley.
Trent stood over a body. Braden approached and Cressida remained close, though she didn’t want to look at the gruesome scene. But she couldn’t miss that Derek Harlan lay on the ground, his throat slashed.
She squeezed her eyes shut and backed against the tent.
The blood boiled in her ears, then rushed to her feet. The world spun at the sight.
“Wait there,” Braden said.
She opened her eyes to connect with his reassuring gaze.
“Just right there,” he said. “You’re safe for the moment.”
Because she was with law enforcement? Or because the man supposedly after her was dead?
“Give me a few moments,” Braden said, “and then I’ll get you out of here.”
“But Diggins . . .” Nausea erupted. Dizziness persisted. “He could be dead too. Someone is killing everyone.”
“Cressida, focus. I need you to keep your head about you. Trent, stay with her for a few moments, will you?”
Deputy Riker nodded and moved to stand near Cressida. His mouth remained flat, but his eyes reflected his deep concern. Cressida suspected he didn’t like Braden asking him to babysit, but he also seemed relieved that he wasn’t in charge of the body.
Braden took pictures of the body with his cell phone. On the other side of the flap, the two other deputies kept the crowd at bay. Cressida squeezed her eyes shut.
All I wanted was to finish Dad’s book. A simple thing, really. A lovely work of history. And now she was in the middle of a horror flick featuring dead bodies and a ghost ship.
Suddenly she fell back into darkness. A hand clamped over her mouth. A familiar face appeared before putting a black bag over her head.