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Deep Waters
Jessica R. Patch


DUTY TO PROTECTThirty feet underwater when her oxygen tank fails, Caley Flynn fears it’s been sabotaged—and she'll be the next to die. Her intern’s already dead, her home breached, and something's amiss at her Florida marine-life rescue center…but no one believes she's in danger. Except Shepherd Lightman. When Caley’s brother asked him to check on her, the Marine-turned-security specialist hoped it'd be a case of calming down a nervous veterinarian. But the threats are all too real. Rescuing Caley and remaining alive isn’t easy, but resisting his boss's sister is where the real danger lies. Because with his heart in the balance, he’ll do whatever it takes to stop a killer who’s desperate to keep a secret hidden.THE SECURITY SPECIALISTS: Their mission is protection.







DUTY TO PROTECT

Thirty feet underwater when her oxygen tank fails, Caley Flynn fears it’s been sabotaged—and she’ll be the next to die. Her intern’s already dead, her home breached and something’s amiss at her Florida marine-life rescue center...but no one believes she’s in danger. Except Shepherd Lightman. When Caley’s brother asked him to check on her, the marine turned security specialist hoped it would be a case of calming down a nervous veterinarian. But the threats are all too real. Rescuing Caley and remaining alive isn’t easy, but resisting his boss’s sister is where the real danger lies. Because with his heart in the balance, he’ll do whatever it takes to stop a killer who’s desperate to keep a secret hidden.


What was happening to her?

First someone tried to kill her underwater, now her home was ransacked.

“Go get cleaned up,” Shep said as he surveyed the disaster.

Right now Caley didn’t need clean clothes. What she needed was comfort.

Shep had proven he could protect her physically. But she needed emotional security and that wasn’t his strong suit.

Still, she inched toward him, and he backed up until the counter blocked his getaway.

She slipped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. “I know this isn’t part of your assignment, but I need a hug. I need you to tell me everything’s going to be fine.”

Slowly his arms encircled her. “Everything will.” His voice faltered but held enough confidence she believed him. His chest felt like an iron wall that no one could penetrate. Sheltered by him, no one could touch her. And while that brought comfort, it was also terrifying.

At some point Shep would let go. But whoever was after her wouldn’t stop. Not until he had what he wanted...or she was dead.


Dear Reader (#u4253ed44-51e0-5a99-ac53-7b923e100692),

I think sometimes we believe that when we mess up, God will withhold His love from us. We compare a perfect God to imperfect people. People can disappoint us, hurt us, abandon us and leave us a shredded mess. Sometimes on purpose. Sometimes not. But God never changes His mind about us. He loves us no matter how many times we mess up. He loves us unconditionally. Wholly. He never withholds His love. His arms are always open.

I’m glad Shepherd learned that. My prayer is that if you’ve felt this way, you’ll let God prove you wrong. He wants to lavish you with love, mercy and grace. You belong to Him. Always.

I’d love to hear from you. Connect with me at jessica@jessicarpatch.com (mailto:jessica@jessicarpatch.com) and stay “Patched In” by joining my email list at www.jessicarpatch.com (http://www.jessicarpatch.com).

Warmly,

Jessica


JESSICA R. PATCH lives in the mid-South, where she pens inspirational contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels. When she’s not hunched over her laptop or going on adventurous trips with willing friends in the name of research, you can find her watching way too much Netflix with her family and collecting recipes to amazing dishes she’ll probably never cook. To learn more about Jessica, please visit her at jessicarpatch.com (http://www.jessicarpatch.com).


Deep Waters

Jessica R. Patch






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown...

—Isaiah 43:2


To Crimson:

Because I dedicated the last book to your mother, and she passed down the love of sea turtles to you. When you learn to read, thank her for this. Love, Auntie Jess.

Special Thanks to:

My agent, Rachel Kent; my editor, Shana Asaro; my brainstorming partner, Susan Tuttle; and Sara Turnquist for all your invaluable information on sea turtles. Anything I’ve stretched for fiction’s sake is on me.


Contents

Cover (#u3a9da57e-dce4-52b4-9d2a-b496ea6447ba)

Back Cover Text (#u71a28a6f-ed07-53c5-b2d6-7858a3d4b994)

Introduction (#uf9b5d134-a194-5e14-81a3-08386d703d00)

Dear Reader (#udfc7249e-7f2a-5df7-b470-fce2ef52c78e)

About the Author (#ude3d6f7a-d06f-532c-aed3-f76606055a73)

Title Page (#u089c4cb9-22e4-5dce-8efe-8e42595bc68a)

Bible Verse (#ucb72e890-f75f-5098-b673-c2170a89891f)

Dedication (#u9569121e-bd1e-5ea7-9011-f6e27c4abdfe)

ONE (#ua7434063-ee15-5931-ae3a-eaf8d1338ae2)

TWO (#u33c9197e-4520-59b7-8155-f94dbe69244c)

THREE (#u0f1fff6f-5060-5373-abc5-778ee2a844c0)

FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE (#u4253ed44-51e0-5a99-ac53-7b923e100692)

The full moon’s radiance blanketed the ocean. Tides were high. The generous breeze swirled in from powerful waves, leaving nothing but briny air to fill Caley Flynn’s nostrils as she tiptoed down the boardwalk to her favorite place in the whole world. Her fingers trailed the weathered wood railing as grains of sand collected under her newly manicured nails.

Seven hours from Atlanta, where she’d grown up, she’d made Turtle Bay, Florida, her home right out of vet school. A small and lovely tourist town nestled along the peninsula separating the Gulf of Mexico and Tampa Bay, it was known for an abundance of sea turtles—especially loggerheads that nested on the sandy shores—fine dining and glorious summers.

She slipped out of her hot-pink flip-flops with fading green palm trees and descended the sandy stairs onto the beach. She loved the way the powdery sand coated her feet. As she met the cool water, a sigh escaped her; she even relished the salty film the surf left in its wake. But mostly she loved this season. It was June and sea turtle nesting was in full swing. Through October she had the unique opportunity to study loggerheads, leatherbacks, green turtles and hawksbills as they swam to shore, burrowed a nest in the sand and deposited hundreds of eggs before swimming back into the depths of the sea. In the next couple of months, the hatchlings would make their trek to the water with nothing but the night’s gentle light to guide them.

Caley had been on faculty as the head marine life veterinarian at the Arnold Simms Sea Turtle Rescue, Rehabilitation and Research Center since she’d moved here, thanks to a few strings pulled by her professor and mentor, Leo Fines.

Every day was overloaded, but at night...nights sometimes belonged only to her, and she enjoyed her solitary strolls. She’d had a lot on her mind lately trying to secure a new grant for the nonprofit center. The fund-raising gala was coming up, and she was in charge of making sure everything went off without a hitch. They needed this grant. They needed the donations from investors.

The foamy water teased her bare feet and ankles as wet sand slipped away with the undertow. She gazed up at the moon, gray clouds casting shadows across the dark water.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

The lull of the ocean reminded her that the world didn’t have to be full of violence. All her life she’d lived with the fear that something bad could happen to her or a member of her family. She hailed from a long line of navy men and women who’d gone on to serve in some branch of law enforcement, purposely putting themselves in danger.

After her sister, Meghan, had died, she simply couldn’t deal with it anymore and she’d journeyed as far away as she could. Away from her family and the danger that surrounded them daily.

Caley enjoyed her work. Enjoyed the people. Rescuing, rehabilitating and releasing sea turtles. Making them healthy. Educating the public. They had more volunteers this year than last. But the grant and donations rarely strayed from her mind.

Moving out into knee-deep water, she walked parallel with the shore. Seaweed, like mermaid’s hair, fanned and raked across the water.

She even loved seaweed.

Wait.

Caley removed her glasses and used her worn-thin gray T-shirt to clear the spots of water, then looked again. Inching closer, her lungs turned to iron.

Dark hair. Not seaweed.

Her stomach convulsed, threatening to bring up her dinner.

Two more feet and the refreshing water chilled her bones, raising gooseflesh on her skin; a strangled scream erupted from her burning throat.

Mary Beth Whaling, a student here in the college intern program, floated listlessly in the tide. Eyes wide open. Skin translucent.

No. No.

She trembled as she checked for a pulse, knowing it would be absent. How did this happen? When did this happen? Why?

Fumbling for her cell phone in her back pocket, Caley glanced up and saw a kayak floating about ten yards out. She dialed 911. She and Mary Beth had just spoken at lunch. She’d mentioned going to bed early tonight and starting a new romance novel. One of the many things they had in common. Of all the female interns—of all twelve interns total—Mary Beth was her favorite. She reminded Caley so much of herself at nineteen. Just seven years ago.

Sirens wailed in the distance as she stayed on the line with dispatch.

The police and ambulance would be here any second.

What was Mary Beth doing out here alone? She never swam without a second person.

Unless she hadn’t been by herself.

But why would someone leave her here without notifying authorities or the center if an accident had taken place?

Was it an accident?

A stream of questions bombarded her mind as she continued to stand by Mary Beth. Caley wouldn’t leave her, wouldn’t let the tide draw her out.

As blue-and-red lights flashed, a couple of faculty members still working at the center made their way to her along with other interns from the dormitory next door. Shock, tears, horror etched their faces, mirroring Caley’s feelings.

Billy Reynolds, the young man Mary Beth had been dating, flew toward her, but the officers held him back.

“Mary Beth!” he hollered, voice cracking. “What happened? Caley, what’s happened?”

Caley’s chest constricted. She had no answers.

A large, bald man—by choice it appeared and not by age—squatted next to Caley. “Come on. Let the first responders do their jobs. I have questions.”

So did Caley. She dropped Mary Beth’s cold hand and let the officer on the scene lead her farther up the beach, away from the onlookers. “I’m Officer Wilborn.”

“Caley Flynn. I work for the Arnold Simms Center. Just down that way.”

He looked toward the center and nodded. “How did you know the girl?”

Caley rubbed her forearms. “She’s part of the intern program. We take twelve each year. From all over the United States. She’s from Oregon.” Her parents needed to know. “I have to call her folks.”

“We’ll get to that. Do you know why she’d be out here this time of night and alone?”

Mary Beth was wearing her racing-back swimsuit. The one she kayaked in. “I can’t believe that she was. Her younger brother died in their pool when no one was home and she promised her parents afterward she’d never go in the water alone.” Why did she change her mind?

Officer Wilborn continued to pepper her with questions she had no answers to, then left her to ask questions among the interns.

Dr. Leonard Fines, her mentor and the director of the center, sidled up next to her, draping his lanky arm around her shoulders. “I overheard some talk. Looks like she drowned. The kayak belongs to the center. They pulled it in five minutes ago.”

Caley leaned into her mentor. “I was responsible for these students. How am I going to face her parents?”

“I can make the call.”

Caley shook her head. “No, I’ll do it. Then I need to go through her things. I don’t want her parents to have that burden, as well.” Watching Mom and Dad go through Meghan’s room had been devastating. “I can’t believe she’d be out here at night on the water.” The unsettling feeling wouldn’t shake.

“Well, she was.” Leo was only a few years older than Caley’s father; of course he was less rigid than Dad. But then Dad had been navy. Her whole family was military and law enforcement.

“You sure you don’t want me to call the Whalings?” Dr. Fines asked.

“No,” Caley said, “I knew her best.” Or she thought she did. She trudged up the beach and into her office right outside the research lab. After a prayer for wisdom, she called Mary Beth’s parents. She knew exactly how they’d respond. The same way her parents had when they found out Meghan had died.

After she hung up with the Whalings, she cracked open a can of peach tea and forced some down her dry throat. She had no explanation for why Mary Beth had been out on the water alone. Neither had her parents. No way the medical examiner or law enforcement would give her any information, since she wasn’t on the case or next of kin. But... She grabbed her cell phone and called her big brother.

Wilder answered on the second ring. “Caley? Everything okay? It’s late there.”

“I need a favor.”

Rustling sounded over the line and a muffled thank-you. “Okay. What kind of favor? You sound upset. Are you hurt?”

Heartbroken. She relayed the events that had transpired. “I need someone to help me find out the truth.”

“The truth sounds like she went out alone and a tragic accident occurred, kiddo. Let the police do their job.”

Caley balled her fist. “Wilder, you always talk about your gut instinct and how it’s usually right. Well, my gut says this wasn’t an accident. Something isn’t right. Can you just...just call and talk to someone?” Wilder knew people in law enforcement all over the world. He worked with them often in conjunction with his private security company, Covenant Crisis Management. “Please,” she choked out.

The sound of a deep inhale traveled across the line. “I’m in Dubai. Escorting someone of importance to a conference or I’d come out there myself.”

“I don’t need you to come out. I want you to make a phone call. Get me some information. I’m going crazy.” Caley scooted her peach tea aside, removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “How often do I ask you for anything?”

“Counting Christmases?”

“Wilder, be serious,” she huffed.

“Do you really think there’s foul play?”

“I don’t know but I have a sick feeling. Mary Beth was a sweetheart. And if she was out there by herself, she had a solid reason.” Caley owed it to Mary Beth and Mary Beth’s parents to get to the truth.

“Okay. I know a homicide detective who works for the Turtle Bay police. Tom Kensington. Former marine. He’s a good dude, and he owes me a favor. I’ll call him and see what I can find out.”

“Thank you, Wilder. I owe you.”

“You can pay up by not nosing around on your own. If it’s not an accident, then I don’t want you in the line of fire. Understand?” Wilder’s gruff command barked loud and clear.

“You know I won’t.” This wasn’t her line of expertise. She steered clear of purposely risking her life, unlike Wilder and his team of soldiers. Caley hadn’t inherited that gene. Or she’d buried it. Either way. “You’ll call me as soon as you hear, right?”

“You know I will, kiddo.” Wilder’s voice softened. “I love you. Hang tight and...I’m very sorry.”

That was the big brother she adored. Tough exterior, gooey middle. She missed him. “I kinda wish you were able to come out. I’m...scared.”

A sigh filtered through the line. “I wish I could too, darlin’, but I’m a phone call away, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. “Love you.” She hung up and closed her eyes. God, why did this have to happen? Caley didn’t expect an answer. She never knew why these things happened. Never got an answer to why Meghan had to die the way she did. But her heart wouldn’t let her stop praying, even if most of the time it felt one-sided.

She eyed her desk. Paperwork had mounted. She worked on some of it, her mind wandering. Giving up, she spent an hour organizing her office, but to no avail. Finally, she finished off her tea—Mama would pitch a fit if she knew she was drinking canned sweet tea—and headed for the aquarium. Open to the public on weekdays, this was one of her favorite places in the center. As she entered the room, the hum of the air-conditioning kicked on, the air filters in the tanks bubbled and a prickle ran up her spine.

Caley shivered.

The sense of being watched rippled across her neck. She turned to the windows. Nothing but the faint light from the small motel-turned-dormitory next door.

She backed her way to the main doors, turned to make sure they were locked, only to scream at the sight of a looming figure pressed against the tinted glass.

* * *

Shepherd Lightman ground his teeth and reined in his temper as he peered into the center’s doors. He’d been in a heavy sleep—the first one in two months, thanks to one assignment after another. Twiddling his thumbs would typically be the death of him, but he’d been ready for this vacation. Flown into Tampa for some deep-sea fishing, then leaving for a sweet cruise to the West Indies in two days. Vacation. A word Wilder Flynn, his best bud and boss, didn’t seem to understand.

You’re less than thirty minutes from her. You’ll be back in bed before the sun is up, dude. Promise.

Shep better be, and he was the closest to Caley Flynn. Twenty-nine minutes away to be exact. As if he hadn’t thought about her being near enough to swing by and see for a minute. But he’d never have done it in a million years. Nope. He wasn’t going near Turtle Girl unless he was instructed.

She was Wilder’s baby sister for one. And for two, she was sweeter than Alabama tea and way out of his league. He might only have six years on her in age, but he had a lifetime in experiences he wished he’d never had. He couldn’t help that. Couldn’t help the way his gut tightened every time he saw her wide blue eyes. Her black-as-night hair on summer-bronzed skin.

But he’d been instructed. And here he was.

“It’s me, Caley.” Even now, skittish as a jackrabbit, she was a sight to behold. “Shepherd Lightman. I work with your brother at Covenant Crisis Management.” He’d been with Wilder since he opened the agency. Been around Caley many times when she visited, but why would she remember a nobody like him?

Big round eyes narrowed and she unlocked the glass doors. “I know who you are, Shepherd. I just didn’t expect you to be nose to the glass at my center.” She let him inside. “Why are you here?”

“Orders.” Just check on her, Shep. Humor her. She’s scared. She’s never seen a corpse. Not anywhere but a casket. It won’t be pretty. I’ll make a few calls to Tom, get the real deal. Just sit with her until her mind is put at ease and she knows this was an accident. She’s freaking clean out.

“From your brother.” He glanced around the aquarium. He’d never been here before. Huge photos of turtles lined the walls with information about each species underneath. Several tanks filled the room. Turtles inside each one. Smelled like fish to him.

Caley locked the doors and folded her arms, staring.

He stared back, panic creeping into his bones. Did she want...a hug or something? Oooh nooo. He wasn’t the comforting type. He could take down a dude from about two thousand yards with a sniper’s rifle, but “there theres” weren’t his thing. “I’m really sorry about what happened tonight. You’ll get through it.”

Caley blinked, tilted her head.

“It’s not easy seeing what you saw. Nightmares are normal.”

Her pouty mouth dropped open.

“I’m not good at this.” Heat flushed his neck and he shifted his weight. Yeah, he was closer distance-wise, but making people feel at ease wasn’t his thing. Wilder should have sent Jody. She was a female. And Caley and Wilder’s cousin. Had lots of words. Too many for his taste, but still. Shep was the worst at words. Worst at mushy-mush. He ground his jaw and sucked it up. “You need some physical contact?” Say no.

Caley’s eyebrows shot north at lightning speed. “Physical contact?”

“You know a hug or pat or something?” He stood like a dummy, not even knowing what to do with his hands—hands skilled at war, inexperienced at comfort—so he jammed them in his cargo shorts’ pockets.

“A hug? Or pat?” She crinkled her nose as if she’d gotten a whiff of a rotten odor.

“Or something,” he muttered.

Caley slowly shook her head. “No. I don’t need a hug or pat from you. I could use information, though. Like how did you get here so fast?”

“I was in Tampa.”

“Wilder said he was making some calls. Did he change his mind and put boots on the ground? Are you going to the medical examiner’s office for answers instead?”

Turtle Girl was an arsenal of questions.

She eyed his torso and neck. “You can stand down, soldier.”

Shep hadn’t realized he’d been tensed. But being around Caley Flynn made him nervous. He relaxed his shoulders. “He’s still making calls to our contact at the police department and the medical examiner’s office.”

“So why did he send you?” she asked.

“To make sure you remain calm.”

She snickered.

Why was that so funny?

“So offering some physical contact is your way of doing it?” A slender dark eyebrow rose.

Heat flushed his cheeks. “Well...no. Just seemed... I don’t know, like, maybe you needed it, but it appears you’re okay and don’t.” The woman sent his tongue into a knot. “Wilder said you were scared.” And wished he was there. But he couldn’t be. So he’d sent Shep. The last person she seemed to want here.

She slipped her bottom lip in her mouth. “I’m okay, Shepherd.” She didn’t seem 100 percent. “I was on my way next door to the dormitory to pack up Mary Beth’s belongings.”

“The vic?”

“The intern who died. My intern.” She pursed her lips and headed for the doors, mumbling something about her brother being a dope.

“Sorry.” He followed her, catching a hint of something fruity. She was like a ballerina, the kind that popped out of jewelry boxes. All slender and dainty. Her voice even sounded like a music box melody. He’d know. One of his many foster moms kept a box like that on her dresser. She also kept cash inside. Taking that cash had sent him straight back to the group home until another family thought they could love him into being a healthy boy, or until the government money for keeping him in their care wasn’t worth it anymore. No one had wanted him.

“So that’s why he didn’t send Jody? You were thirty minutes away?”

He snorted. Nope, Caley Flynn didn’t want him. “All you got is me, Little Flynn. Sorry to disappoint.”

She frowned. “As you can see, I’m fine. If you want to get back to your work in Tampa, you can.”

“It was a vacation.”

“Oh. Well, now I’m sorry.” She pushed open the door and waited for him to exit, then she locked it. “What are you doing there? Partying it up on the strip?” No contempt in her question. Neutral. But clearly his past preceded him.

“Nope.” He hadn’t lived that kind of lifestyle since he gave his life to Jesus in Afghanistan. But no one seemed to notice that. Just what he’d done beforehand.

“So what are you doing then?”

“Chartering a boat to deep-sea fish. Then boarding a cruise liner for the West Indies.” He followed her across the parking lot into the sand. His shoes were going to be filled with it. “Was this a motel?” The soft pink stucco building was rectangular with palm trees flanking the double glass doors.

“Yep. The center purchased it several years ago and converted it.”

“You live here?”

“Me? No. I live a few miles away. Little bungalow on the beach.”

Shep stayed on her six into the cool building, condensation fogging the glass. “Live alone?”

She gave him a strange half smile, almost confused. “No. I live with my landlord, Miss Whittle. She’s a sweetie.”

Like Caley.

She turned left and strode down a long hallway. Soft hums of TVs and chatter carried from the rooms. Not that he expected kids to be asleep even after midnight, but he did expect more buzz after losing one of their own.

“Mary Beth’s room is at the end of the hall.” She pointed to the last door on the right. As they neared it, Caley slowed. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” she murmured.

Against his better judgment, Shep rested a hand on Caley’s shoulder and patted. “There there.”

Caley let an exhausted chuckle loose and touched his hand. Hers was so small next to his. “Thanks, Shepherd.” She seemed to mean it. Maybe he did all right. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and gasped.

* * *

Caley froze in Mary Beth’s room. Nothing but a sliver of moonlight to outline the shadowy hooded figure by the window. He paused, then grabbed a brass lamp and chucked it toward her.

A force shoved her aside and she crumpled to her knees.

Shepherd used his forearm to knock the blow of the lamp away.

The intruder was already halfway through the window.

Lunging, Shepherd latched on to the attacker’s leg, yanking him inside, but the assailant used his other leg and rammed it straight into Shep’s nose, giving him enough leverage to scurry out the window.

Shep wiped the blood seeping from his nose. “You gonna make it, Little Flynn?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” Dazed. Terrified. But alive.

“Good.” Shepherd lurched out the window and disappeared.

Caley flipped on the dorm light, revealing the disaster before her. Drawers had been tossed. Papers and books littered the floor along with everything that had been on the top shelf of Mary Beth’s closet. Even her mattress had been overturned.

She laid a hand on her heart, willing it to slow its pace.

What had the intruder been searching for? And why such a mess? Why not come in and meticulously comb through everything so no one would be the wiser? Especially if the break-in was related to Mary Beth’s death, which was likely going to be ruled an accident.

But now?

Now, it was obvious foul play was at hand. This was too much to be a coincidence. So whoever had come in here like a tornado must have been desperate. The big question was what on earth did he want?

Caley rubbed her sore knee and sat on the edge of the upturned mattress. Of all the people to send why did Wilder send Shepherd Lightman? If his imposing size wasn’t enough to scare someone half to death, the menacing blue eyes, almost gray, and faint scar running through his right eyebrow separating the hairs was. He rarely spoke, but when he did his voice was unmistakable. Baritone. Full of grit and gravel and yet hypnotic. Nothing but rock-solid muscle. Had a record for longest shooting distance as a marine sniper. A point man for the Special Reaction Team. Shepherd Lightman was more machine than man.

Truth was, all Caley knew about Shepherd came from the stories Wilder and the others had told of him. Wild. Fast. A heartbreaker.

But something about his pitiful effort to comfort her actually did comfort her. Bless him. And now he was out there hunting down whoever tried to wallop her with a lamp, and no doubt when Shep did find him, a sheer look would have the intruder confessing everything.

Of all Wilder’s team members, Shep was the only one who revved her heart rate up a notch. Wilder should have sent Beckett Marsh. He was like a brother to her. Or their cousin Jody. She was capable and way easier to talk to.

Shepherd poked his head in the window and Caley jumped.

“Sorry.” He hopped back inside and surveyed the room. “He gave me the slip about a mile down.”

“I guess my gut was right.”

“You’re a Flynn. I’d trust your gut.” He poked around in the empty closet. “What’s your theory?”

“How do you know I have a theory?”

“You’re a Flynn.” He ran his hand along the top of the closet shelf.

Caley pushed her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and laid her theory on him.

“Well...” His voice sent a ripple through her belly. “I’m inclined to agree. This is desperation right here. And we interrupted him. So he may not have found what he was lookin’ for.” His voice only held a splash of Southern twang, though he was from Alabama. “What do you think he was after?”

“That I don’t know.” Caley kicked at loose clothing piled on the floor. “I don’t want her parents to see this mess. But I know the police need to come in and take prints, even if that guy did have gloves on.”

Shepherd studied her a moment, his gaze lingering on her face until she squirmed. “Let me call Wilder first. See if he can rush Tom at TBPD for answers on her death and if he can get someone out here to take prints. Then we can clean up the mess before her parents show up.”

“Okay. What if they don’t rule this death a homicide? What do we do?”

Shep’s full lips twitched. “We do a little snooping of our own. I have my PI license in Florida. Most detectives have an overload of cases anyway. Your hunch and a tossed room isn’t going to light a fire underneath them on an accidental death ruling.”

She stepped closer to him, noticing a smear on his cheek and fresh blood dripping from his nose. She grabbed a tissue, careful not to touch the box, and held it up. “Shepherd, your nose is still bleeding.”

He dabbed at it and pocketed the tissue while Caley paced the room. “Make the call. But I can’t let her parents in here with the room like this. So tell him to find a way to get me an answer. And say please.”

He nodded and made the call. Fifteen minutes later Wilder called back. Shep put him on speakerphone.

“They’re ruling it accidental. I’m sorry, Caley. No defense wounds, abrasions. Nothing that indicates anything other than a terrible tragedy.”

Caley’s blood boiled and she felt some desperation of her own. “What about the dorm being ransacked? Someone threw a lamp at my head, Wilder!”

Silence for two beats. “I didn’t know about a lamp.” Accusation laced his voice and Shep rubbed his brow.

“Well, Shepherd blocked it but it was thrown at me nonetheless.” She glanced at Shepherd, who was still frowning. “Did you even tell Tom about her dorm room?”

“I did. They can come out and take a report. That’s about it. Anything stolen?”

“I don’t know,” Caley said, flailing her arms because she needed to do something. “Wilder, that girl was precious to me. I don’t believe this break-in, tonight, after she’s found dead, isn’t connected. Do you?”

“It could be connected, but not necessarily because it’s murder. Maybe someone knows her effects will be boxed up and given to her parents. Maybe she had something someone didn’t want to be seen. Doesn’t mean they killed her. Just means they wanted to get something before it was exposed. Might not even be anything criminal. You don’t know enough to make the lines meet.”

Unfortunately, Wilder had a point. “Fine. Thanks for helping me and sending Shepherd. I’m sure he’ll be glad to get back to his deep-sea fishing.” She smiled at Shep.

“Take me off speaker,” Wilder demanded.

Caley rolled her eyes and Shep held the phone to his ear. A few grunts and short replies later, he hung up.

“Well?” Caley asked when he clearly had no plans to relay the private conversation.

Shepherd ran his hands across his short cropped hair, the color of wet sand. “He wanted my assessment of you.”

Caley loved Wilder but he was ridiculous. “Oh really. And what, pray tell, is your assessment, Shepherd?”

“I said you were fine. Shaken up. But stronger than you look.”

“I didn’t hear any of that.” All she heard was yes, yep, yeah, no. Yeah. Okay. But it still warmed her to know Shepherd thought she was stronger than she looked. Wait, did she look weak?

“He’s ordered me to stick around until my ship departs, for added measure. So...you’re stuck with me.” He cocked his head and folded his arms across his massive chest, his muscles popping out from underneath his white T-shirt. “I’ll need a place to bunk.”

“I can get a hotel for you, or you can take an empty dorm room.”

He dipped his chin. “We can look into things with more detail a little later.”

Caley nodded as Shep studied the messy room, waiting on the police to come take a report and print the room.

So they’d start digging. What would they find? And at what cost would it come if they did discover what got Mary Beth killed?


TWO (#u4253ed44-51e0-5a99-ac53-7b923e100692)

Caley jolted from the bare twin mattress as knuckles collided with the door outside the empty dorm room she’d stayed in after last night’s events. Shoving a mass of hair from her face, she squinted at sunlight pouring through the window that overlooked the ocean.

“Caley? It’s 0700. You crackin’?”

Crackin’? She was barely breathing. It had been nearly 4:00 a.m. before she had finally decided against driving home. After the police left and cleared them to clean up Mary Beth’s dorm room, Caley met with Mary Beth’s parents, who had rented a car after their flight landed. They’d grieved together and then she followed them to the Turtle Bay Police Department.

She hadn’t mentioned the ransacking. She wanted more information before suggesting foul play to Mr. and Mrs. Whaling. They’d been exhausted and retired to a hotel a mile away. Back at the dormitory, Caley had made up a bed for Shep two doors down from hers, including fresh sheets, but she’d been too exhausted to throw any on her own tiny mattress. Her mouth felt like cotton and her eyes were swollen from crying herself to sleep.

“You alive?” he called. “I’m coming in if you don’t answer.”

“I’m fine,” she rasped. Could use some water. “Give me a minute already.” Grabbing her glasses, she haphazardly shoved them onto her nose and yanked the door open to a freshly showered—and ridiculously good-smelling—Shepherd. He didn’t particularly have a “look” but his jeans and black T-shirt could be branded the Shepherd Lightman style. “Not all of us can manage on four or less hours of sleep.”

“Roger that.” With his index finger, he righted her crooked glasses. Her blood heated. She was definitely awake now and no doubt looking a mess. Smoothing down her hair, she was suddenly more self-conscious of her disheveled appearance.

Shep leaned against the door frame. “I smell breakfast from the mess hall. You want me to rustle up your number one square for the day? Or I can stand outside the door.”

“This isn’t Buckingham Palace, Shep.” Though, with that stoic face, he’d make a great solider standing guard at the gates. “I need ten minutes. I’ll meet you at the cafeteria.” A solider through and through. “I’m a fan of French toast.” She shut the door and snatched the bag she normally kept in her office in case she worked into the late hours. She rarely wore makeup and it was easier to pull her long hair into a sloppy bun on her head or a ponytail. Today she went with down and wet. It’d dry quickly.

She opened the door fifteen minutes later.

Shep hadn’t left.

“You did hear me say this wasn’t Buckingham, right?” She slid by him and shook her head.

He fell into step with her. “Who is Billy Reynolds?”

She paused. “How do you know that name?”

“Social media. I did some research while you got some shut-eye. Quite a few photos of him and our vic—I mean...Mary Beth.”

Caley ambled through the lobby and down the hall to the cafeteria that had once been the motel’s dining commons. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Who is Billy Reynolds? And what is his relationship with Mary Beth?”

Shep motioned for her to go ahead of him through the breakfast buffet line. The room was sparse today after last night’s tragic events. Two interns sat at a table. They needed to call an assembly. In the back corner, Dr. Fines sat with a cup of coffee, stubble covering his chin and cheeks. He looked as haggard as Caley felt. “I need to go talk to Leo.”

Eyebrows scrunching, Shep set his sights on her mentor and boss. “Leo? Leonard Fines?”

“Yes,” Caley said, and left Shep in line with two trays. She hurried to Leo and he stood and hugged her.

“We need to rally the kids,” he said.

“I know. I was just thinking that. But I have to tell you something first.” She sat across from him and relayed the earlier events.

Leo pushed his coffee cup away. “You really think the two incidents are related?”

“I do. I don’t have solid proof, but I mean, come on.” She toyed with an empty creamer cup he’d used for his brew. “The police are ruling it an accident, but Shepherd is sticking around. In case it’s not. At least for a couple of days.”

Leo leaned forward. “Caley, if the police and medical examiner say it was an accident, then it was. I don’t need to remind you that our biggest fund-raising gala is in a few short weeks, and if Nora Simms gets a whiff of scandal, your job and mine will be over. Not to mention we don’t need donors pulling out.”

Nora Simms was the daughter of Arnold Simms—one of the greatest marine biologists to ever live. His work with sea turtles was extraordinary and that’s why the center was named after him. Nora had already threatened Dr. Fines’s job and Caley’s six months ago when protestors picketed outside the research lab. The media had skewed everything and a few donors pulled out, believing that their research was inhumane to turtles. As if. Nora had been furious. Ranting about her dad’s life work going down the tubes.

But Mary Beth might not have accidentally drowned. Seeing her killer brought to justice was more important than their jobs.

“Leo, what if someone hurt Mary Beth? Do we tie a block to that possibility and let it sink to the ocean floor?”

Leo’s face flushed. “Of course not, Caley. I’m not insensitive. But don’t you think, if it had been a homicide, there would have been some evidence? Even a trace?” He clasped her hand. “The professionals ruled it out.”

“But the dorm room was trashed. What about that?”

“Maybe someone heard she passed away and broke in to steal some of her belongings. Phone. Laptop. Cash. Who knows?” Leo had a point but the eerie feeling wouldn’t shake loose.

Unsolved crimes happened all the time. “I’m going to look into it anyway, Leo. I have to. I’ll be discreet.” With Shepherd here and a contact at the police department, they could investigate, and if they turned up solid evidence, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. “Two days.” That’s how long Shep would be around. Surely, by then he’d have a solid lead. “Nora won’t have to know a thing. Our donors won’t either.”

Leo closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Fine, but be careful and keep the fact that her room was ransacked under wraps. No hint of a scandal. To anyone. This is my life’s work. I won’t lose my job over a hunch.”

Caley swallowed and shoved the paper top into the empty creamer container. Thankfully, the interns had kept to their rooms while the police had done their job last night. “Okay.” At the moment it was a hunch so that was fair enough. “I’ll send a group text for the interns to meet us here in fifteen minutes. We need to talk about this. Supply some grief counseling if needed.”

Leo nodded.

Caley found Shep with two trays at a table near the exit. Her tray was loaded with French toast and bacon. Who was he feeding? An army? She took her seat and sent out the text.

Shep held a strip of bacon in his hand. “What did your boss have to say?”

Caley groaned and delivered the conversation.

Shep only grunted and ate his bacon while studying the cafeteria. Interns trickled in. Some in tears, others unusually quiet. They’d been here since mid-May. Already, they were like family. Caley excused herself and tended to her team. When they’d all arrived, Leo spoke to them, offered counseling. Some of the interns wanted to hold a vigil and murmured plans.

Caley finally stood and said a few words about Mary Beth. When they dispersed, she caught up with Billy. That’s when Shep made his way over to the beverage area. He poured a glass of juice while Caley talked. If he was trying to be invisible, that wasn’t happening. Shep was larger than life.

“Billy, can you tell me anything? Why would she swim or kayak alone? Did she mention it?” Caley asked.

Billy leaned against the end of the table. Face pale. Eyes hollow. “She said she was going to bed early. Read a book or something. But she’d been distant the past week or two. I thought she was low-key dumping me.” He shrugged. “I can’t believe she’d go in the ocean alone. Makes no sense.”

Caley put her arm around him. “I don’t think she did. I think something else is going on here, Billy. I have what I think is proof.” The ransacking of her room had to be.

“What kind of proof?”

She promised Leo to keep the incident quiet. “I can’t tell you that. We have to keep things on the down low for now.”

Billy gaped but nodded. “You don’t believe it was an accident, do you?”

“No. Anything out of the ordinary with her? Other than being distant?” Caley waited while he seemed to process the information.

“Ashley said she’s sneaked out a few times but wasn’t sure where she went. I figured she was cheating on me with someone else.” Billy rubbed the back of his neck. “That wasn’t like her. I can’t think of anything else, Caley. I’m sorry.”

Caley nodded and looked to Shep. Not a single reaction on his face. She turned back to Billy. “Thanks. I’ll talk to Ashley.”

She scanned the cafeteria for her. Ashley had come in with three other interns earlier. She must have gone back to her dorm room. Once they entered the hallway, Shep grunted.

“I’m not fluent in grunt. Sorry,” Caley said.

“Do you have a curfew here?” he asked.

“No, they’re adults. As long as they show up to work we don’t pry into their private lives.” Caley headed toward the hall of dorm rooms.

“Then why sneak? People only do that to hide something. Trashed room indicates someone looking for a hidden item of some kind. Drugs?”

Caley snorted. “Doubtful. Mary Beth was an outstanding student at the University of Oregon. She was looking forward to her career. This is a highly respected internship program and we vet our students thoroughly.”

“Well, then the other reason for sneaking off at night is she met someone. It adds up. She breaks away from Billy. Hides it from her friends. Women like to talk about their men. If she’s hiding him, then it’s someone they wouldn’t approve of or someone who needed it to remain a secret.”

“You mean like a married man?” Caley froze in the hall. “No way.”

Shep tossed a skeptical glance her way. “Not everyone holds the same moral compass in their hand as you do, Turtle Girl.”

“Turtle Girl?”

Shep shrugged. “Fits.”

Except it didn’t. Neither did Little Flynn or Wilder’s kiddo. Caley was a grown woman. Not an adolescent. Just because Shepherd and Wilder had six years on her didn’t mean she was a child. She was a respected marine life vet. With her own home. Her own life. “Well, I don’t like it,” she said.

That garnered her another grunt.

“Back to Mary Beth.” She switched subjects. “You think this mystery man—if there is one—killed her, then came back later and tossed her room, looking for some evidence proving they were in an illicit relationship?”

“It’s a starting point. Nothing else to go on.” He nudged her to get moving again. “Once we talk to this Ashley, maybe we’ll know more.”

Caley knocked on Ashley’s door. A moment later, Ashley opened it and eyed Shepherd with a mix of confusion and what Caley could only define as intrigue. For a man as rough around the edges and intimidating as Shep, he held some physical qualities that would make a girl swoon.

Like his lips—heart-shaped top with a protruding lower one. Crazy-soft-looking. Paired with bluish-gray eyes framed by thick dark lashes, he had zero trouble attracting female attention. And that wasn’t including the mysterious scar and superhero physique.

The rumors she’d heard said Shep had never been in a committed relationship, but he’d dated the way a man with a cold went through tissue. Box after box.

No, that wasn’t the kind of man Caley was interested in. So the attraction had to stay simple. Appreciative. Besides, he was a soldier. And she’d vowed long ago that she wasn’t marrying a soldier or a man who worked in law enforcement of any kind.

Too risky for the heart.

Shep narrowed his eyes. Uh-oh. He’d caught her gawking. She pushed her glasses up her nose. “This is my...” What was he? Her brother’s friend? “Friend. He’s stopped in for a visit.”

Shep’s eyebrow, the one without the scar splitting the hairs, rose.

“I wanted to talk to you about Mary Beth. Can I come in? We? Can we come in?” Caley asked and shoved her way inside, a good measure away from Shepherd.

“Sure,” Ashley said, opening the door wider to accommodate Shepherd’s frame to enter without brushing her. “I think I was the last person to see her. She was in the equipment room around eight last night.”

Why would she be there? Unless she really was going out to kayak or fill the oxygen tanks for an upcoming dive.

“What’s in the equipment room?” Shep asked.

“Boats, diving equipment, anything we use out on the water for work or play.” Caley slumped on the edge of Ashley’s bed. “Did she say if she was going out, Ashley?”

“No. She said she left her beach bag in there.” Ashley pawed her face. “If I’d pressed for the truth maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I knew she was lying and I let her. To each her own, you know?”

“Sure. How did you know she was lying?” Caley asked.

“She’d been going out late at night. Several times in the past few weeks. I approached her about it, but she said she wanted to be alone. Not to worry. But why would you want to be alone that late at night? She seemed shifty. Distant.”

“That’s what Billy said,” Caley said.

“I think she was cheating on him. Or about to break it off for good.” Ashley collapsed in her desk chair. “Billy thought so too.”

Shep might be right. There could be a mystery man involved. “She never confided in you? About another guy?”

“No. She knows how tight me and Billy are. I guess she thought I’d tell him. But I wouldn’t have.”

“Anyone else she might have talked to?”

“Toby. He never liked Billy much. And Mary Beth had been spending a lot of time down in the lab with him. At first I thought maybe they had something going on, but he’s engaged and a stand-up guy. I don’t see him cheating. And honestly, I don’t see Mary Beth doing something like that either.”

Neither did Caley. Shep’s eyes held skepticism.

“If you remember anything else, please tell me.”

“I heard her parents came last night and took her stuff. A few of us went to her room this morning and it was empty. Like she was never even here.” A tear leaked from her eye. “I can’t believe this.”

Caley wrapped her in a hug. “I know. If you need anything, call me.” They left her room and were down the hall when Shep spoke.

“Let’s check out the equipment room. See if we can find that bag she was hunting for. If there was a bag. Maybe there was something of extreme importance in it. Something that got her killed.”

“Okay. And I hate to think it, but you might be right, Shep. She might have met someone who needed to stay a secret.” And if that were the case, they had to find him.

* * *

Shep had rolled the interviews with the interns around in his head in between trying to figure out why Caley had been gawking at him outside Ashley’s door earlier this morning. Like she was admiring him in a more than friendly way.

He’d shoved the ridiculous notion aside and followed Caley around for the remainder of the morning, keeping out of her way while she worked. He and Caley had lunch once again in the cafeteria, and now they were inside the aquatic center, where he stood in the hub of a group of tourists while Caley shared sea turtle migration patterns and habits and advances in research.

The passion in her voice held his attention captive along with the thirty other tourists hanging on every word. But he had to pull his thoughts away from her hypnotic voice and focus on the case and his plans to keep Caley protected if the intruder from last night returned. A possible murder wouldn’t stop Caley from her daily routine. Life had to go on. Just like in war. No way to make time freeze when a comrade had been lost. Fighting and protecting lives didn’t come to a standstill because people grieved. Caley wasn’t a solider like most of the Flynn family, but she was proving she was a fighter by standing here continuing with her spiel on sea turtles and not crawling into a hole to hide.

He admired that about her. Admired her brain. The woman was ridiculous smart. And gentle. Patient. Okay, this was not pulling his thoughts away. This was fixating on a woman who was so out of his league it wasn’t even funny. Back to the assignment.

The best working theory was Mystery Man wanted to stay hidden, which explained his motive to toss Mary Beth’s room, looking for a piece of evidence that would have exposed their relationship. But why kill her? Had she threatened to tell someone about them? Tracking down Mary Beth’s actions over the past few days was imperative, but no one seemed to know where she’d been.

Someone was lying.

Twelve interns working and living together day after day and no one could tell them where the girl went? Shep wasn’t buying that.

Caley finished her talk and handed the crowd off to another staff member and photographer. Tourists loved their pictures.

Caley shoved her glasses on the bridge of her nose—he could tighten those for her if she wanted—and strolled toward him. “Did I bore you?”

“No.” Boring would be the last adjective to describe Caley Flynn.

“You even listen?”

Had she wanted him to? “I know loggerheads can get up to three hundred pounds and fishing gear is their biggest threat because they can get caught in longlines.” He enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing mild shock on her face. Yeah. He listened. Hard not to.

But then she grinned and it sent a blip to his heartbeat. “Have you ever seen them swimming in their habitat? It’s amazing.”

“Maybe,” he said. “To be honest I wouldn’t know one turtle from the next, but I planned to do some diving off the cays. On my cruise. Now, I’ll know that the leatherback’s carapace is black with white splotches while the green turtle has a light or dark brown carapace. And it’s sometimes shaded with olive. Oh, and the carapace is the hard upper shell.”

Caley pulled her glasses off and studied him. Had he passed the test? Her narrowed eyes said she might be about to fail him. “Are you certified to dive, soldier?”

“Yes,” he said warily.

“Like navy good or just marines good?” A hint of teasing flickered in her eyes. Caley Flynn may not be military but the navy coursed through her veins by birth.

“Good enough not to need a babysitter.”

She glanced around. “I’ll tell you what. Since you’ve been such a trooper today, and I need to run out to one of the dive sites anyway, I’ll let my team and interns know I’m leaving and we’ll check some longlines, make sure no turtles are caught. Then we’ll do a little diving before coming back to shore. It’s a place Mary Beth and I dived—a favorite spot of hers. Maybe someone who runs the excursions might know something or has seen her diving with someone other than me or an intern.”

Shep saluted. “Okay.”

After one last tour at the aquatic center, Caley rustled Shep up a scuba suit, gear and tank. She drove to the marina and led him to the center’s boat. “All aboard,” she teased.

Shep dropped his scuba gear next to Caley’s and shook his head. Not only was her tank hot pink but her flippers and scuba suit had an equally pink stripe running down them. The ultimate girlie-girl.

“I see you pooh-poohing my gear, solider. It’s not a crime to love to pink.”

She cranked the engine and brought the boat to life, then guided them from the mainland out to sea. He’d give her a pass on the pink gear since she handled the boat like a boss. Wind on his face, sun warming his back, Shep was once again impressed. The taste of salt coated his lips and he licked them as they continued farther out, the sandy beaches becoming nonexistent.

He picked up the tank again, inspected it. Severe pink. “It should be a crime,” he insisted.

She raised her sunglasses on her head and studied him. “Are you joking? I can’t tell.”

He hollered over the buzz of the motor. “Yes, I’m joking.”

She slowed the boat down and they floated toward a huge longline—Shep had fished this way a few times. Attached to the line were baited hooks. Probably after halibut or swordfish. Bright orange buoys marked the spots.

“Fisherman will probably be back in the morning.” She suited up below deck, then came back up. Looking perfect in pink. “Just gonna take a quick look. Make sure no turtles are caught on the hooks. I’ll be up in five, ten minutes.”

He almost balked at her diving alone, but she was an expert and he trusted her.

She sat on the edge of the boat, and fell backward, gracefully, into the water. Shep watched until her hot-pink tank disappeared. In about six minutes, she surfaced. “No turtles. Let’s ride out to Soldier’s Reef.”

Back in the boat, she zipped across the water, smooth as glass, and toward the artificial reef. “We’re two hundred yards from shore. Only going down about forty feet, but, man, just you wait. It’s awesome.” Her eyes lit up and she didn’t waste any time as she increased the throttle until they arrived to their diving destination. “Gonna moor the boat and we’re good.”

She took a line and tied it to the cleat of the deck, then passed the other end through the eyebolt of the pickup line on the buoy before securing it to the second cleat. Something about the professionalism and quick way she worked...she wasn’t just a girl with her nose inside a turtle shell all day. There was even more to Caley Flynn than Shep had realized, and he happened to like it all. Way too much.

“I guess we’ll chat with the charter boats that bring tourists out after we dive?” he asked.

“That’s the plan,” she said as she grabbed her mask. “They’re all out on tours anyway.”

“Hey, where are your glasses?” He hadn’t seen her without them once.

“Contacts. I hate wearing them but I haven’t gotten around to getting a prescription diving mask.” She shrugged. “Well, let’s get this party started. Not to sound like a brochure but you’re about to see a spectacular site. This whole reef was built from waste. Like pipes, army tanks and even a navy WWII aircraft carrier.”

“Sounds interesting.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “It was created as a memorial to those who serve our country.” Her voice softened as she sat on the edge of the boat, back facing the water. “Like you.”

“Then I’m ready to see it, Little Flynn.” If he continued to call her that, he might remember how completely off-limits she was. Shep pulled his mask over his face, inserting his mouthpiece. Over the boat he fell, then flipped onto his stomach and a whole new world opened up. Sunlight filtered into the underwater paradise. Murky but gorgeous. Masses of spiky coral jutted north from the reef. Thousands of tiny silver fish maneuvered in the water.

Caley held up the okay sign with her hand and he signaled back. She pointed and swam like a regal dolphin as he trailed. A spotted eagle ray scurried from the sandy surface, stirring up the ocean floor. Caley skimmed the creature with her fingers.

He marveled at the array of colors. Like a living rainbow underneath here. Banana yellow, ruby red, neon blue, orange. One sight after another.

But the brightest, most enticing sight was in black and hot pink.

And it was the one creature down here, or above, he wanted to study most but couldn’t. Caley Flynn was everything he admired and that astonished him. He wished he could protect her from all that she’d seen in the last twenty-four hours, help her keep her innocence in a dark world.

A burst of emotion he’d never experienced—couldn’t even put a name to—flooded his chest, and he resolved right here, right now that he’d do everything in his power, work tirelessly, to find out what happened to Mary Beth Whaling. A need greater than he’d ever experienced burrowed into his marrow. A need to come through for this woman.

No matter the cost.


THREE (#u4253ed44-51e0-5a99-ac53-7b923e100692)

Caley never tired of marine life. Silence except for the gentle sounds of air bubbles releasing. She reached down and felt the hose releasing oxygen from her tank to her mouthpiece. Still had sufficient tension. She kept an eye on Shep, studying him. Powerful legs. Powerful in general. Understanding dawned as to why Wilder had brought Shep into his team. He was a force to be reckoned with. A true soldier in every way. Caley admired the men and women in the military. Loved this reef dedicated to their honor. Seemed Shep did too.

He was admiring a barracuda with sharp teeth, nearly five feet long. Fierce. Seemed the fish and the solider studying him had something in common. She left him to his amusement as a goliath grouper swam around a crag revealing a green turtle nested in the crevice. She swam toward it, breaking up a school of bluish-green pompano, then reached the gentle creature, brushing her hand along its smooth carapace.

Carapace. Shepherd had been listening. Watching the tour. But it seemed as if he’d been preoccupied with something else too. Probably the case. But when he’d been able to relay what she’d said, it had sent a thrill through her. Her own family, while supportive, never listened with such attentiveness to her passion for marine life—for sea turtles.

She stroked the turtle again; it was probably hunting for root algae. Eat on, big guy. Eat on.

She breathed in. Huh. Short breath. Strange. She squeezed the hose again. Sufficient tension. She should have been given a full breath.

An odd sensation crept up her back.

She grabbed her pressure gauge. Twenty-thousand PSI. Plenty of pounds of pressure. So why the limited flow of oxygen?

She breathed in again, watching the gauge.

Another short breath. But even more frightening was the way the pressure dropped dramatically. How on earth?

Her heart lurched into her throat as she inhaled again.

Nothing.

Her air supply was completely cut off! No warning.

Stay calm. Don’t panic.

Shep was about five feet away. They could share air.

Turning, Caley saw only the underwater world.

No Shep.

She fumbled for her tank rattler to signal him. Surely he’d hear it...but it wasn’t hooked on her belt like it normally was.

Her brain screamed for air.

Swiping her knife, she clanged it against her oxygen tank.

God, please let him hear me! I pray You hear me!

Turning upward she had two choices and not much time to decide which option was best. Caley could hope Shep had heard her banging and that she could hold out until he arrived with oxygen, or she could make an emergency ascent.

Up thirty feet.

Exhaling the entire time so her lungs didn’t expand and do catastrophic damage.

Could she exhale that long?

Every fiber in her being convulsed.

What to do?

Time was running out.

She needed to breathe!

Shep was nowhere.

No time.

She bolted for the surface.

Heart beating out of her chest.

Up she raced, slowly exhaling...exhaling...exhaling... Not too fast. Can’t stop exhaling.

She desperately needed air.

Anxiety continued to rise but she’d been trained. Don’t panic. Keep exhaling.

God, help me!

Something tugged at her leg.

She kicked, then realized it was Shep. She used her hand and made a slicing signal across her throat as she continued to exhale and rise.

Maybe fifteen feet left.

He grabbed her forearm, pulled her closer to his chest, removed his breathing apparatus and handed it off to her.

Caley wrapped her hands around his as he held it to her, inhaling sweet oxygen, then she passed it back to him as they made their ascent more slowly to the surface, their knees sometimes knocking together as they kicked upward.

He signaled the okay sign and she gave it back. Relief flooded her, but also the unsettling vibe over what had occurred.

They made their way to ten feet where they had to wait the three excruciating minutes for a decompression. Shep grabbed her pressure gauge and hose and studied it while they passed off air to one another, waiting.

She’d been on hundreds of dives. Could teach a class if necessary. This had never happened before.

With Mary Beth’s death on the edge of her mind, several frightening scenarios popped through her brain. And questions.

Shep dropped her gauge. His eyes narrowed. Two more minutes and they could talk this out. But for now it was just them.

The ocean that had once been peaceful and calm now took on an ominous appearance as if it was disappointed it hadn’t swallowed her up whole.

She shivered and concentrated on breathing. On Shepherd.

Sharing the apparatus with him felt intimate even though it was nothing more than a means to stay alive. Wanting to spring to the surface, to safety, she checked her watch.

Time was up.

She nodded and they finished their ascent, bursting into the atmosphere, inhaling all the oxygen they needed. Warm sunshine. Seagulls squawking.

“What happened?” Shep growled, all grit and gravel in his voice.

“I don’t know,” she said as she hauled herself into the boat, Shep right beside her. She removed her tank and studied it. “I just don’t know. One minute I had air, then a short breath, then nothing. I filled it up two days ago and haven’t been out since then.”

Shep studied the tank. “Didn’t Ashley say Mary Beth was in the equipment room the night before she died?”

Shep’s unspoken accusation was absurd. “Mary Beth did not tamper with my tank. Besides, she wouldn’t be skilled enough to know how. I don’t even know what happened.”

“But it’s possible.”

“It’s insane. What would her motivation be?”

“I don’t know.” Shep tossed his mask on the bench and frowned out at the sea. “We need to get a scuba tech to check it out. And not one from the center.”

Caley shook out her wet hair. “Why?”

“I don’t trust anyone there.” He faced her. “I don’t think this was an accident. Just like Mary Beth’s death wasn’t. And if I’m right, someone on the inside wanted you to run out of air. Could have been Mary Beth.”

Caley’s legs felt like jelly and she collapsed on the bench. “That makes no sense. I always dive with a partner. Whoever did it would know I’d have a buddy to breathe with.”

“Maybe whoever did it had planned to go with you. Maybe Mary Beth. What if she conveniently disappeared and you didn’t make your ascent safely? What if she lured you farther down?”

Caley’s stomach curdled. “I can’t...believe that.” Why would anyone want to harm her? Or Mary Beth? “If it was Mary Beth who messed with my gear, why did she end up dead? You think someone knows and killed her for it?”

“I don’t know why. But this whole scenario isn’t jibing.”

“I don’t always keep my gear in the equipment room. Most of the time I keep it on the boat. Anyone could have access. It could have been tampered with long before I brought it to the equipment room.”

“Either way, someone knows you use a hot-pink oxygen tank.”

Caley’s throat burned. “It could have been an accident.”

“Maybe.” Shep sat beside her. “But maybe not, Little Flynn. Maybe not.”

Shaken to the core, she hoped Shep would reach out with another weak “there there,” but he didn’t.

“I’m gonna call Wilder. Update him.”

Like a good soldier.

“Let’s get to shore and talk to personnel, see if Mary Beth dived with anyone not connected to the center. Then we can take the tank to the university and have it checked out by a random tech. If it’s not an accident, then call Wilder. Let’s not worry him until it’s necessary.”

Shep sniffed, seemed to mull the idea over. “All right.”

What if Shep’s guess was right? What if someone had planned to go diving with Caley and had thought to lure her farther below and disappeared? Which prompted her next question. “Where were you? One minute you were checking out a barracuda and the next, I couldn’t find you.” She wasn’t accusing him but she was curious. Five feet apart was too far to begin with, but out of eye sight was unacceptable, though easy to do, especially if you weren’t a regular diver.

He ran his hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have gotten too far away. I failed you, Caley.”

Was he joking? “Shepherd, I’m not sure I could have made it all the way up. And there is no decompressing on an emergency ascent. I’m not fussing at you.” She laid her hand on his. “I just wondered.”

He snatched his hand away and stood. “Let’s get moving.”

She cranked the engine. So much for accepting some grace. Maybe he’d accept this next gesture. “I meant to say something earlier—those twin beds are tiny at the dorm. I’m going to get you a hotel room. Do you want to be closer to the center or to my house? I live on the other side of town on a small residential strip of beach property. But there’s a quaint little B and B nearby.” Not that Shepherd looked like B and B material.

“How long will it take a tech to discover if the tank was tampered with?”

Okay, not accepting that extension of grace either. She sighed. “Depends.”

“Then I’ll make a decision later.”

Ah. That made sense. If it was a direct threat to Caley, he’d want to be close in order to protect her. If it wasn’t, he might opt for a hotel farther away. That sort of stuck in her craw. But then why would he want to be near her for any other reason than to follow Wilder’s orders? Why did it matter?

Caley increased the throttle and headed back to the marina to dock, then they headed to the dive tour facility. According to them, Mary Beth hadn’t been diving with anyone other than interns and Caley. They zipped to the university and dropped off the tank with a reputable researcher in the marine biology department.

“I used my extra bag last night, so do you mind if we stop by my house so I can change?” Caley noticed how cramped Shep’s legs were in her yellow Volkswagen Beetle. She couldn’t help that.

“Sure. So you rent a house and your landlord lives with you? That’s weird.” He took off his mirrored aviator glasses, using his shirt to clean the smudges.

“Well, I rented the whole bungalow until a year ago when Miss Whittle had some health problems and couldn’t live alone anymore. Her only son lives in Montana. She won’t do the cold. He owns a ranch and wouldn’t move here—real nice guy, huh? Anyway, I offered her a room. I mean, it is technically her house. I can look after her and... I don’t know... I like it. Plus she cut my rent by more than half. She reminds me of my grandmother.”

Shep wouldn’t know the love and warmth of a grandmother. He’d never had one growing up in foster care. Her heart ached for the little boy Shepherd once was. No family. No real home. No grandparents to bake for him or dote on him.

“Do you have a single mean bone in your body, Little Flynn?”

Little Flynn. She had to get him to stop using that term. It was annoying. “I don’t care for that term just so you know.”

“Nothing wrong with being a Flynn.” His voice almost sounded covetous. Guess she couldn’t blame him. The Flynns were tight-knit. Demanding and rigid at times, sure, but they loved one another and displayed affection to show it. Dad’s hugs were almost as suffocating as Wilder’s. But she treasured them nonetheless.

“It’s not the Flynn I don’t like. It’s the Little.”

Shep sized her up. “You are little.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re Wilder’s baby sister.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh. “I’m his younger sister. Difference.” She turned right at the traffic light past several tourist shops selling knickknacks, souvenirs, surfing equipment and, of course, T-shirts with Turtle Bay stamped on them.

Shep didn’t respond to her last retort, so she let it go. Besides, they were home. She pulled into the driveway and under the carport to her three-bedroom, two bath, bungalow-style home. It sported banana-yellow stucco with a bright red chimney and a welcoming white door. Palm trees surrounded the home and one stood guard at the yellow concrete stairs leading to her cozy porch.

“Welcome to my house. It’s not much but it’s home.” She put her key in the lock but the door opened. “Well, that’s odd,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“We don’t leave the doors unlocked. I mean, it’s safe here in Turtle Bay but...”

Shep guided her back a step. “I’ll go in first,” he whispered.

“Sure...okay.” Chest pounding, Caley balled her fist and rubbed it against her thigh. “Wait! Let me go. Miss Whittle may have checked the mail and forgotten. With her heart condition, your barreling in could send her into cardiac arrest.”

Shep didn’t look like he was going to let her but then he scooted over. “Just holler. Don’t go in.”

“She’s almost deaf. If she’s not wearing her hearing aids, she wouldn’t hear a train if it roared past her window.”

Heat flashed in Shep’s eyes. “Pray her heart holds up then, because you’re not going in there before me.”

She tamped down on her temper. “Fine, but holler first.”

Shep entered. “Miss Whittle!” Scuffling sounded from inside and something crashed on the tile floor. “Miss Whittle!”

Shep sprinted through the living room and into the kitchen. Caley followed and tripped over a throw pillow from the rocking chair. The house was a wreck! It mirrored Mary Beth’s dorm room. Couch cushions, books and magazines had been scattered across the living room floor. “Miss Whittle!”

Caley rushed into the kitchen. Through the window by the breakfast nook, she spotted a man dressed in dark clothes and a hoodie darting across the backyard toward the road. Shep was hot on his heels.

“Miss Whittle?” Lord, please let her be safe. Where could she be? Panic welled up in her chest.

She rounded the eating bar and gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Miss Whittle lay on the floor, blood trickling down her brow and cheek. Caley grabbed her cell phone. DГ©jГ  vu. Feeling for a pulse, she called dispatch for an ambulance and police.

There it was. Faint.

“Yes, she has a pulse, but she also has a heart condition,” she informed the dispatcher. Caley held Miss Whittle’s hand and prayed God would keep her heart working and that everything would turn out all right...even though, deep down, Caley wasn’t so sure she believed her prayers made a difference. They hadn’t protected Meghan, and Caley had prayed daily for the protection and safety of her family.

She continued to hold Miss Whittle’s hand as she fretted for Shep. Where was he? Had he caught the guy this time? Was it the same guy who broke into Mary Beth’s dorm room?

And why would he break into Caley’s place? She didn’t have anything that belonged to Mary Beth.

Once again sirens blared and first responders rushed to the house, where they took Miss Whittle’s vitals. The police arrived, but this time Officer Wilborn wasn’t on the scene. Instead, a man dressed casually caught her attention. Tall. Muscular. Caley had seen enough plainclothes officers to know this was one.

“Miss Flynn,” the man said, “I’m Detective Tom Kensington. A friend of your brother’s.”

Wilder and Shep’s contact at Turtle Bay Police Department. “Yes, of course. Thank you for coming.” First responders left with Miss Whittle to take her to Turtle Bay Hospital. As soon as Caley finished here, she’d call Miss Whittle’s son, then go to the hospital to be with her.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

They came home.

Shep chased the intruder.

No, she didn’t get a good look at him except to notice he was wearing a black hoodie. In this weather.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Caley. It’s suspicious. Two break-ins. One deceased girl. But there are no real dots to connect. I need more substantial evidence. But since you’re a Flynn and I owe Wilder a solid, I’m going to do what I can, off the books, because Turtle Bay tax dollars won’t let this dog hunt. Her death was ruled an accident and it appears to be so. As far as this isolated incident, they’ll process everything. When I hear something, I’ll let you know.”

She clutched her chest. “Thank you. Off the books is fine.” Especially after what Leo said about a potential scandal.

The kitchen door swung open and Shep trudged inside. He shook his head. “He jumped in a van about three blocks up the beach. I didn’t have time to get the plates.” He spotted Detective Kensington and grinned. “Tom.”

“Shepherd. Good to see you again.” They shook hands, and Detective Kensington told Shep the same thing he’d told her. “You get much of a look at that van?” Tom asked.

“White van. Commercial. Guy was medium height. Hundred seventy pounds.” Shep rubbed the back of his neck. “I appreciate you looking into this quietly. Caley’s boss isn’t thrilled about what’s happening given the gala they have coming up. Scandal is a bad thing. So quieter is better until we can pinpoint what’s going on.”

Caley’s stomach dipped. Again, Shepherd had been paying attention to her needs and he was protecting not only her but her career. She wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“I understand. I’ll keep you posted. You do the same.” Tom shook Shepherd’s hand again. “You keeping busy since last time I saw you?”

“Fair amount.”

Tom chuckled and looked at Caley, jerking a thumb in Shepherd’s direction. “This guy right here? One of the craziest guys I ever met. Hard core. No fear.”

Caley swallowed hard. “I believe it,” she rasped. The exact kind of man she would never attach herself to. “I tend to like a quieter life.”

“Sorry things have shaken up for you,” Tom said. He glanced at Shepherd, whose neck had flushed. Was he angry at Tom’s words? “But this guy will keep you safe and I’ll do what I can on my end.”

Tom left with his report and Caley stared at Shepherd.

“I’m not reckless.” Shepherd’s voice came with a gravelly hard edge.

“I didn’t think you were, or that Tom implied that. I think he admires and respects you as a brave soldier.” She was thankful he was fearless. But while he wasn’t reckless, crazy meant going into dangerous missions with no fear of dying. No worries. No concerns. He had been point man for the Special Reaction Team in the Marine Corps. Yeah, she was familiar.

That’s why Wilder hired him right off the bat and bragged about Shep. He had experience in crisis situations. Terrorist attacks. Hostage situations. VIP protection. Out of the nine-member elite team, Shep was positioned at the front. Leading the entry element.

No fear of death. Of leaving a loved one behind. That nagged her. And it shouldn’t.

His jaw flexed. That had seriously rubbed him wrong. “How’s Miss Whittle?”

“I don’t know. I need to get to the hospital.” Her body felt like a waterlogged tree trunk, exhaustion seeping into every pore. What was happening to her perfect little world? Why was it crumbling like wet sand? Sunshine had turned to storm clouds. Torrential rains had fallen.

And she was falling apart.

“I’ll drive you over there. Go get cleaned up and—” he surveyed the disaster “—and I’ll start putting this back together.”

Right now what she needed wasn’t a fresh change of clothes. Or a clean house.

Right now, she needed...comfort. A hug from Dad or Wilder.

All she had was Shep.

He’d quickly proven he was able to protect her physically. But she needed emotional security and that wasn’t his strong suit.

“You hear me? You’ll feel better if you clean up.”

No. She wouldn’t. He was all she had right now. She inched toward him, his eyes narrowing further with each step. When she reached his personal space, he backed up.

Don’t run from me, soldier. She needed solace and safety from strong, able arms.

He backed up until the kitchen counter blocked his getaway.

She slipped her arms around Shep’s waist and rested her head on his chest, listening as his heart rate kicked up. Waiting for him to reciprocate.

A hug.

What she desperately needed.

His body went rigid.

“I know this isn’t part of your assignment, but I need physical contact, Shepherd. A hug. A pat. Whatever.”

Slowly, his arms encircled her. Awkward, but there. The warmth of his hands seeping through her T-shirt.

“And don’t say �there there’—just tell me everything is going to be fine.” She buried her face into his T-shirt, the smell of soap and total ruggedness rushing her senses. She inhaled and exhaled as his arms held her close.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.” His voice faltered but held enough confidence that she believed him. She pressed into his broad chest, like an iron wall that no one could penetrate. A force to be reckoned with. Here, sheltered by him, no one could touch her. And that brought more comfort than she was expecting. Dad and Wilder could make her feel safe and protected, but this...this was different. Terrifying. Exhilarating.

She clung to him.

He didn’t push her away. Didn’t tighten his grip on her either.

But he had her. He wasn’t letting go and that meant something. At some point, though, he would let go. He’d leave her. For a cruise. And that sent a ripple of fear down her spine. Someone was hunting for something she didn’t have. Someone who would keep coming. “Why would anyone think I have a single thing worth taking?”

“You were close to Mary Beth. She confided in you.”

True.

“And if he didn’t find what he was after that night in her dorm room, he may think you did.” His breath ruffled her hair.

“But Miss Whittle.” A hiccup escaped her lips and she pushed down tears as she fisted his shirt.

“I know.” His hands pressed in on her back, but didn’t move. Didn’t caress or offer any added solace. He wasn’t a comforter. He was a soldier.

Time to let him abort the mission. She broke the contact.

His eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips before shoving his hands in his pockets.

Caley put some distance between them. “We should go to the hospital. I can clean up later.”

“Roger that, Little Flynn.” He cleared his throat and clomped to the front door. Had she crossed a line? Was hugging her that unbearable?

“Shepherd, you’re doing all you can. You don’t feel guilty do you?” He’d noted that he’d failed her before. But he hadn’t.

“I’m fine. It’s 1815 hours. You need to eat. I’ll get you something at the hospital cafeteria.” He opened the door, waiting for her.

She glanced around the room one last time. How was she ever going to solve this nightmare when she didn’t have a single lead? And what would happen if the oxygen cylinder had been tampered with and each incident was linked? Nora Simms wouldn’t see tragedy. She’d see news media and scandal. She’d see donors pulling out and dollar signs slipping away along with her father’s legacy and life achievements. And Caley and Leo Fines would be out of a job they both adored. But she couldn’t put her career above the life of Mary Beth.

So why would anyone else?

* * *

Last night had been painfully long for Shep. It was easier for him to get in, accomplish the mission and move on to the next one. That’s how he’d been living his life since he’d joined the marines at eighteen. No need for feelings. Shut them off. Be a soldier.

But he never truly shut them off. Only shoved them down. All the resentment, anger, hurt from his childhood. The terror from war. The death tolls. The loss. Buried deep.

Until he’d given his life to Christ.

A weight had lifted, but even then Shep had made sure to keep the most painful things locked away. They were too hard to deal with and he wasn’t going to curl up in the fetal position and cry like a baby.

But when Caley wrapped her arms around him, burrowing against him...something had cracked loose. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he rubbed his chest hoping it would soothe the ache that thumped there.

It had throbbed all night as he sat in a waiting room chair while Caley had kept vigil at Miss Whittle’s bedside.

Didn’t look like Miss Whittle’s son needed to fly in, though he had offered. She had been cleared to come home this morning at 0900.

Now, Shep sat in one of Caley’s Adirondack chairs, holding the phone to his ear and waiting for his Alpha Charlie from Wilder. But he’d take his reprimand like a good soldier. He’d let some dude give him the slip. Twice. Meaning Caley was still a sitting duck.

Shep had been trained to take down an enemy. Didn’t matter if he wasn’t familiar with the landscape. He should have taken the guy to the ground, gotten answers and been on the cruise liner to the West Indies—the next mission. No feelings involved. Wilder answered and Shep gave him the rundown of events.

“So you have no leads? Nothing to give Tom?” Wilder asked. His voice remained calm. Too calm. Shep knew Wilder well enough to know it meant a storm was brewing underneath his tone.

Bearer of more bad news. “No. We have a theory.”

“Oh! A theory. Well, of course. That’ll solve this case.” Sarcasm. Wilder’s typical way to reply when he was frustrated. Welcome to the club, bro. “A theory is nothing more than a good guess. You aren’t going to find squat on a good guess.”

“You don’t say?” Shepherd bit the inside of his cheek. Wilder was his boss and his friend, but he didn’t need a further verbal bashing. He was beating himself up nice enough.

“And if this person thinks my baby sister has something—something that might hurt him—then he’s not through with her yet, Lightman.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Flynn. If you don’t think I’m capable, take me off the assignment.”

Wilder sighed. “It’s my sister. The only sister I have left, Shepherd. And I’m stuck clear across the world. I’m on edge.”

Apology accepted. But it nagged Shepherd that Wilder would have relieved him had he been in the country.

“You think the professor is shady?” Wilder asked, the brewing storm settling.

“Definitely. But your sister doesn’t. She thinks everyone is all lollipops and rainbows. She plans to talk to him later today.”

Wilder was quiet. “How old is this guy?”

“Don’t know. Mid-to late-fifties maybe.” What did that matter?

“You don’t think Caley is romantically involved with him, do you? That that’s why she’s so gung ho on his innocence?” Wilder asked.

Shep’s gut clenched. “No.”

“Mentorship can slip into hero worship, which can lead to a romantic relationship or denial of any wrongdoing on the mentor’s part.”

Shep rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You’ve been talking with our resident headshrinker, Cosette.”

“Well, she’s right. It happens. It could be happening to my sister.”

Shep scratched the back of his neck. “She hasn’t acted like there’s anything more than mentorship.”

“But she’s naive, Shep. You basically said it yourself.”

No. What he’d said was that she saw the best in people which made her vulnerable, not naive. “I think it’s platonic, dude.”

“Good. She deserves a stand-up guy who will treat her right and not take advantage of her. And I plan to be the wall he’ll have to tear down to get to her. If there’s anyone good enough out there for her.” He chuckled. “Anything else?”




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