Chapter 5 #2
Convenient as it would be, Trent didn’t believe that Frank Royer had drowned. The ringleader had escaped and now someone nearby was surely helping him evade the authorities.
But who?
Well, that was why Gamble and Swann had sent him here.
They hadn’t expected easy answers, though they always hoped for speedy results.
This crew epitomized sneaky—a remarkable feat in itself considering the number of successful thefts they’d pulled off.
They had stolen several boats outright from docking slips all along the East Coast. At big marinas and small, even high-ticket equipment was fair game.
On some occasions, boats were taken, used for several days, and returned.
Like a private rental agency for criminals.
The only explanation was an inside connection and yet no one had cracked or given Trent a whisper of being part of the operation.
The slower than glacial progress was like poking a raw nerve. Patience, usually his superpower, was wearing thin. How did this crew stay so organized? More unsettling—what kind of leverage was Royer applying to keep so many people quiet about it?
He was grateful for his boots as he trudged through the loose dry sand and made his way closer to the hard packed sand near the tide line.
He walked just out of reach of the water, under a moody velvet sky sparkling with stars.
Moonlight danced over the waves, lighting the foam that rolled up onto the sand.
Minding Nash’s warning, he didn’t stray into the water as the drumming tide muted his racing thoughts.
Before long, he realized he wasn’t out here alone.
It wasn’t as if Brookwell had set hours for beach access.
Guidelines, yes, but challenging to enforce.
In addition to the moon’s soft glow over the water, taller lights marked the various boardwalks over the dunes.
In between those points, the darkness made it impossible to recognize anyone from a distance.
He passed a group of friends laughing around a small campfire.
Giving them a wide berth, he walked on, curious if he could reach the marina from here.
According to his earlier explorations, the shape of the coastline prevented direct access.
Unless he’d had something as convenient as a kayak.
Maybe tomorrow he’d do that. It wasn’t uncommon for thieves to invade marinas that way.
Completely unassuming, they could navigate in and around the boat slips with ease.
Despite the marina’s excellent security, courtesy of the local Guardian Agency presence, Trent refused to underestimate Royer’s tenacious crew.
They’d just had too much success. Deliberate. Not dumb luck.
From the background Trent had dug up, he assumed the crew’s persistence came from fear of the boss as much as greed. Royer was ruthless and the trail of bodies in his wake proved it.
Reaching the limit of easy beach walking, he turned around rather than attempt to find his way through the thick stand of marine forest. Lost in thought, adjusting his strategy for tomorrow and the following days, he was surprised to hear someone call his name.
He followed the sound toward the shadowy form walking his way.
“Hey.” He slowed his pace. “Nice night.” He hoped that would suffice.
Small towns often had that congenial vibe.
He needed to lean into it because he was staying in one of the more popular locations on the island.
It seemed as if everyone in Brookwell knew his name already.
He hadn’t yet decided whether that was a perk or a problem when the source of the voice walked through the pool of light from the boardwalk.
Female, he noted as her skirt fluttered in the breeze, the light glowing behind the fabric. “Hey, Natalie.” He did his best to ignore the warmth that flooded his system whenever he was close to her.
“Is everything going well at the Hideaway?” she asked, falling into step beside him. “I only ask because you could be doing this on a private beach.”
But then he wouldn’t have bumped into her. He caught himself staring, taken aback. She seemed almost ethereal in the moonlight. He wanted to reach out and make sure she wasn’t an illusion. It seemed almost criminal that he didn’t know the taste of her lips.
“Trent?”
He shook off the wayward thoughts. “Everything’s perfect, thanks. I was, um, at the Pelican earlier and wanted some air.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Air and solitude. And I’m intruding.” Stepping back, she swept her arm out. “Enjoy.”
He marveled that she was able to be herself all the time.
Who did that? It was kind of intimidating.
He couldn’t imagine running at life wide open, no filters, the way Natalie did.
He peered down at her bare feet. She wasn’t carrying shoes.
He stopped short of asking about her footwear.
“You’re welcome to come by and enjoy the private beach anytime,” he blurted. “It’s your house.”
Her lips tipped up at one corner and her fingers brushed his forearm. “Not during your stay. It’s all yours.”
“Right. Thanks.” He couldn’t drag his focus away from where she touched him.
“There haven’t been any more issues?” she asked. “No unfortunate souls washing up or other crimes?”
He chuckled. She was irrepressible. “No.”
“Good.” She turned toward the water. “I’d hate for another crime to wreck a beautiful night.”
He couldn’t agree more. “That would be a tragedy.” He started back toward the pub, ridiculously pleased when she fell into step beside him.
“And how’s your work going?” She posed the query as if she knew he’d been out here dwelling on his lack of progress.
Maybe she did. He’d learned about her workspace behind the gallery on Central.
That was likely a prime location to hear about whatever was happening on the island.
And through Jess, he’d learned about an unexpected recent visit from her ex-husband.
Hard to believe Natalie had been married and divorced.
Clearly, she only looked young and naive, oblivious to any of life’s sharp edges.
“Not as smooth as usual,” he admitted.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He appreciated her obvious sincerity. They walked on, approaching the glow of light at the next boardwalk that protected the dunes. He fought the persistent urge to link his hand with hers. “Do you still spend time down around the marina?” he asked.
“As often as possible,” she replied with a smile. “I’ve seen you out and about with various adventures the last few days.”
And why hadn’t he noticed her? Of course, he was focused on finding Royer and any local accomplices. He rolled his shoulders, hoping she hadn’t watched his first paddle board lesson. He’d spent more time in the water than on the board.
“Everyone told me deep sea fishing was the way to go.”
“And was it? Did you catch anything?”
“Yes.” He tucked his hands into his pockets.
“And yes. The crew was awesome. They showed us a great time.” The most fun he’d had doing reconnaissance, in fact.
But he kept that detail to himself. “The crew cleaned the fish for me and packaged it. It’s in the freezer at the Hideaway until I know what to do with it. ”
“Hm.” Natalie’s steps slowed. “My advice?” At his nod, she suggested, “Call Parker’s and have them handle the cooking for you.”
“Table for one?”
“Only if you’re opposed to me inviting myself along.” She grinned, swaying side to side enough that her skirt fluttered.
“Not at all. I’d enjoy the company,” he replied. Only when the words were out did he realize how true they were. Not like he was getting anywhere on his own. Maybe, through her frequent trips to the marina, she had insight he could use. “Does tomorrow at six work for you?”
She cocked her head, her lush mouth curving into a smile. “That’s perfect.”
“Should I pick you up?”
“No need.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll bike over.
I’m setting a couple of alarms, just in case the muse has me by the throat.
” She spared him a quick glance. “Don’t tell my sisters I know how to do this,” she said.
“It’s more fun to have them chase me down.
All that wrangling the baby sister stuff makes them feel important. ”
He laughed. “You sound sure about that.”
She nodded decisively and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “Decades of evidence on my side.” She glanced around. “I should, um, get going. I left my shoes at the other walkover.”
He should’ve asked about the shoes. “I’ll walk you back.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” she said.
“Would you have wandered this far from your shoes if you hadn’t spotted me?”
She nibbled on her lip, but her sassy grin broke free. “Probably.”
He laughed at the self-deprecating admission. He couldn’t possibly have ever met anyone as candid as Natalie Hargrave. She was a breath of fresh air, blowing through a personal life he’d let grow stale. “Together, then,” he said, turning. “Unless you’d rather have the time to yourself.”
The ocean breeze tugged at her hair as she considered. “Actually, I’d appreciate the company,” she said. “I’ll get plenty of quiet between the beach and home.”
So he walked her back to her shoes and her bicycle, chatting about little things along the way. And when she was on her way, he found the quiet wasn’t as comfortable anymore. He missed the sparkle in her eyes, the rhythm of her voice, and her astute observations on any given topic.
The entire encounter made him wish once more that this was a vacation rather than an assignment.