Distress Signal, page 8
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No problem. I won’t hold you captive, Cora. You’re free to walk this out on your own.” He stepped back, his gesture confirming his words, but his jaw worked back and forth.
She suspected that he hoped she wouldn’t take him up on going it alone. She would be a fool to do it. At least she knew that much. “I know you were in the navy. You’re skilled and up to the task. I can use a weapon like the average person, and that’s about it. I’m better with a speargun.”
His cheek hitched. Phew. They were good again. Strange how much she hated for him to be upset with her.
“I’m scared for you, that’s all.” And she meant it.
“You don’t need to be.”
“We’re wasting time.” Judd had hovered near the edge of their hiding corner. “Whoever shot at her before will catch up if we don’t hurry.”
Kirk drew near again, as though...as though he might kiss her. “I’m glad you’re seeing reason. Now, let’s get you back to safety.”
Where she should have stayed. She had only cost Kirk time by insisting she come with them. But she hadn’t known someone would try to kill her. Someone who must be keeping very close tabs on her whereabouts.
A bullet whizzed by her cheek. Cora screamed.
Kirk and Judd covered her and hurried her away from the crowd, through shops and between buildings, back to the pier. Her mind and heart raced, believing at any moment she could be standing in the presence of her Maker.
Kirk tugged her into the shadows. The marina was packed with boats, the Clara Steele mere yards away. “Judd is going to check his boat before you board to make sure it wasn’t rigged with explosives while we were out.”
“He’s risking his life for us,” she said.
“We learn to do that serving in the armed forces, and that skill, that propensity to be on guard, never really goes away.” His blue-eyed gaze peered down at her, and that intense feeling swept over her again—that Kirk would kiss her. And to her utter disbelief she wanted that kiss. Her attraction for him had never gone away, even though she’d tried repeatedly to tamp it down. She’d already been hurt by this guy and she wouldn’t give him the chance to hurt her again.
Judd’s signal interrupted what might have been a goodbye-and-keep-safe kiss. She should have been relieved rather than disappointed.
Kirk ushered her to the Clara Steele. Judd had already prepared to leave the dock, and it looked like Kirk would hang back and pick off anyone who tried to harm her. Maybe in subduing the shooter, he could get answers.
“Keep safe, Cora,” he said as she boarded the boat.
“Stay alive,” she said. “Find who did this. I know you won’t disappoint me.”
A bullet slammed into the Clara Steele, much too near her head.
* * *
Cora’s in danger!
Gunfire rang out around him—and Cora was the target. The marina was relatively deserted, with most people touring the village, the countryside or attending the main event. Anyone at the marina might have thought the sounds were firecrackers—but Kirk would never have been fooled.
Pulse racing, he returned fire, aiming at the stack of crates from where shots were fired, giving Cora the chance to slip belowdecks as Judd maneuvered and steered the Clara Steele out of the marina.
Faster, Judd. Move faster! Kirk willed his buddy to push the trawler, but the boat couldn’t so quickly escape. That’s why it was up to Kirk to hold off whoever wanted Cora dead. Was it Coburn or Menken shooting at them? Or both? Who else of the twenty crew members was involved? He suspected it boiled down to a handful or fewer and he already had at least two suspects.
As the Clara Steele fled the gunfire, Kirk thought about his decision to send her away. He hoped he’d made the right one. He wasn’t entirely sure Cora would be safer out there on the water after what they’d already been through over the last twelve hours.
After all, this had started out on the water in the Salish Sea.
But Judd knew what he was doing. He claimed he had practice at finding the best secluded spots to fish—nobody would be able to find them.
Slinking between boats moored in their slips, Kirk made his way toward the stack of wooden slatted crates from behind which the shots had been fired. He slipped up next to a crate, held his weapon at the ready and crept around. Ready to shoot each time he turned a corner.
But the shooter was long gone.
Looked like his own bullets marred the surface of a couple of crates. He remained next to them and let his gaze roam the marina and then Farrow Village, bustling with activity. In the distance beyond the marina, houses with green grass in the yards lined the beach. Gentle waves rolled onto the gray, pebbled shore. Seagulls searched for food—crabs or old french fries, take your pick.
Though Kirk wouldn’t consider Farrow Island large—fourteen miles long and fifty-four miles of shoreline—it wasn’t exactly something he could explore in a day. Still, he would find those responsible. Somehow. Someway. Of course, they could very well flee the island, and then what? But Kirk had a feeling the bad guys would stick close enough to make sure all loose ends were tied up.
Cora was a loose end.
As he made his way back to Farrow Village, he headed to Jed’s, the restaurant and bar where he knew at least one person from the Sea Dragon would be hanging out. He mentally ran through the list of crew members again. Were any of them the shooter? He honestly couldn’t picture the men he’d worked with on the Sea Dragon for the last couple of months taking shots at Cora. They all seemed to adore her. Especially Lance, who’d clearly had a thing for her—but he’d died on the Sea Dragon, his body lost forever along with Trip’s. Nor could Kirk picture the jovial Captain Menken being responsible for the bombs that had taken out the research vessel, his intent to get rid of the evidence and loose ends—to kill Cora and Trip. But the guilty parties often had others fooled.
Perhaps Lance and Kirk would simply have been collateral damage.
Allowing outrage to fuel his focus, he blended into the crowd again, aware that he would be the target now, at least on this island. If it hadn’t been for the series of unfortunate events—Cora seeing what she shouldn’t have seen and then Kirk’s cover somehow being blown—they might still be on the Sea Dragon.
Then again, this could all be on Trip.
Across the street and a couple of storefronts down, Jed’s was open for business. The sense of urgency that lives depended on him finding the killers before someone else was murdered accosted him. That, and the fact that Jackson had given him a set time to solve this.
Kirk dug down deep and sent up a silent prayer. Lord, please let me find someone here. I need answers and I need them fast.
He stood back in the shadows until his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting typical in this kind of establishment. A woman in conversation with a couple of guys at a table laughed. Her voice carried over to Kirk. “You’d be disappointed,” she said.
Her pronouncement brought back Cora’s last words to him.
I know you won’t disappoint me.
And that was just it, wasn’t it? Kirk had disappointed his family already. He was a walking disappointment. His father had made that exceedingly clear when Kirk hadn’t become an attorney and part of the family business—Higgins and Sons, Attorneys at Law.
If he didn’t find out who was responsible in the next few hours, he’d not only let down Drake and Commander Jackson, but also Matt, his supervisor. He’d chosen this career; the least he could do was succeed in it. Secure justice. And maybe, in getting justice for those who were killed, he wouldn’t let Cora down, either.
A familiar guffaw from the bar pulled his focus back. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Coburn. Declan Coburn was a retired Alaskan Airlines pilot turned shipwreck diver and maritime historian—but mostly he worked security on the Sea Dragon. A lot of good that had done. The guy also loved to drink. He couldn’t drink before a dive, but he hit the bars every chance he got.
Kirk slowly approached, fully aware that Coburn’s reaction to seeing him alive and well could tell him everything. He slid onto a stool at the bar right next to Coburn and ordered a sparkling water with lime.
Coburn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Hey...hey, man. I thought you were back at the Sea Dragon.” His gaze searched the room. For a quick escape? “What? Did you decide to hit the island for the fireworks later?”
He knows something, all right.
“Nah. I just came to look for you guys. I was waiting on the Sea Dragon for you to bring Shari back for Cora. Remember? I thought there might be some sort of holdup.” More than anything, Kirk wanted to pound this man for what he’d done to Cora. To find out what had happened on that dive this morning that had left her for dead, and so much more. “Did you find Shari? When was the rest of the crew planning to head back with the part for the ROV?”
“Uh... I don’t know. I wasn’t the one in charge of that. But I had planned to join everyone in a couple of hours, probably.” Coburn eased off his stool and downed the rest of his liquor. He gripped the edge of the bar.
The fact that he was half drunk could help Kirk find out what he needed.
“I need to find the restroom,” Coburn said.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Kirk downed his seltzer water, then slammed the glass on the bar much too hard.
“What do you mean, man? I have to go.”
When Coburn moved, Kirk grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, pressing the muzzle of his gun into his side. “Keep quiet. You’re coming with me.”
He ushered Coburn out of the bar, aware the man could try to make his escape there. He was physically fit—despite his love affair with alcohol—and fully capable of taking Kirk out if he got the advantage. Except today it was unlikely he would get that advantage since he’d had too much to drink. Kirk forced him between the buildings.
Even with one arm twisted behind his back, Coburn somehow managed to pull a knife from his jeans pocket.
With no one in the alley to interfere, Kirk pointed his weapon at Coburn so he could look down the barrel instead of only feeling it in his side. Maybe that would be much more intimidating. “Come on. You’re not actually going to try to fight me.”
The man flicked the knife at him. Kirk jerked out of the way, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough. The knife sliced through his upper arm near the previous wound and seared him with pain. But even worse, Coburn took advantage of the momentary distraction and took off, running out of the alley and around the corner.
The man had called Kirk’s bluff—he wasn’t prepared to kill Coburn, especially since he hadn’t gotten the information he needed. Kirk put the weapon away and prepared to follow.
He could easily catch up with the drunk man.
Kirk fled the alley and turned right, the same direction Coburn had taken. He spotted the man, caught up between two other crew members—engineer Scott Epperson and computer tech Chuck Hays.
Even better. Kirk stepped back into the shadows. He could follow. Watch and listen. Find out what he needed to know.
“You drunk again?” Hays asked. “You were supposed to be at the marina two hours ago!”
“You stupid jerk!” Epperson looked like he wanted to pummel Coburn but held back. “They’re here on the island. They’re alive.”
“I know that.” Coburn pulled away and stumbled into the wall.
Kirk wasn’t far behind. All they had to do was look over their shoulders.
“What do you know? You know nothing. What little you do know—like when to meet us and where—you can’t even follow through.” Hays punched him.
“I know the code.”
Seething, Hays yanked Coburn to him by the collar. “Quiet. Do you want to get us killed?”
Coburn laughed almost hysterically, as if fear had taken hold but he didn’t care. “You mean like Lance killed Trip? Tried to kill Cora?” He wiped his eyes, crying now.
Lance murdered Trip? Lance was behind the attempt on Cora’s life? Kirk’s mind stumbled at the news.
“Sweet Cora,” Coburn continued. “Well, you don’t have to worry anymore. Verone has her. He’ll keep her for us.”
Verone...
Judd Verone.
Kirk stumbled back into the shadows. He’d trusted the wrong person.
He’d left Cora with that murderous traitor.
SEVEN
In the Clara Steele’s galley, Cora couldn’t stop pacing. “What if something happens to him? How will we know? Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Why aren’t we going to the police again?”
Judd chuckled. “I can only answer one question at a time. You don’t need to worry. Kirk knows how to handle himself. He won’t let us down.” Judd stood at the counter waiting for teabags to steep in a mug of hot water. “I’m sure he will contact the appropriate authorities, too. But right now, we have to keep you safe. All you need to do is relax and trust Kirk to know what to do.”
“I know. I trust him. But I can’t help but worry about him. I can’t help but worry about us. Look what already happened. What if they followed us here? Shouldn’t we be keeping watch on deck?”
“Nobody followed us. Even if they were to search, they couldn’t find us in this cove. This is one of my favorite places to fish. An out-of-the-way spot not frequented by tourists or fishermen. Your man trusted me to keep you safe and that’s what I’m going to do.”
Your man...
Right. “He’s not—”
“Your man?”
“No. It’s not like that.” Regret curdled in her stomach over what might have been between her and Kirk.
Why had she been so quick to let Stephan charm her? Maybe it all went back to that one defining moment. The moment she’d allowed to determine how she looked at herself.
Her date to the prom—Jimmy McElroy—had dumped her off on another guy so he could leave with a girl he liked better than Cora. If she was honest, she’d felt a little like Kirk had done the same thing. He’d let Stephan charm her and pretty much take over. She’d wanted Kirk to step up and claim her, so that’s why she’d stood there and waited for him to act. But he hadn’t. Instead he’d left.
That had hurt her more than she’d been willing to admit at the time. She’d refused to give in to that pain—to a repeat of the past—and allowed Stephan to sweep her off her feet, as it were. He seemed to want her, and she’d needed to be wanted. In the end, Stephan had pretended that Cora was the only one for him, but he’d been seeing another woman on the side. Of all the nerve! Why did this keep happening to her?
He was a liar. A big fat liar. Lied to her face about it on multiple occasions.
But she was the bigger liar. She had lied to herself. She had never really wanted Stephan.
It had always been Kirk. Still, it wasn’t that way between them now, despite what Judd thought he knew.
“I see the way he looks at you. He cares about you like that.” Judd set the mug of tea in front of her.
“For me?”
“Chamomile tea. It’ll settle your nerves.”
“I’m surprised a guy like you even has tea on the boat.” She wrapped her hands around the mug to warm them. Drew in the light scent. Judd was more thoughtful than she could have imagined. He knew exactly what she needed right now. Could he also know what Kirk felt about Cora? “I think you’re wrong about Kirk liking me. But it doesn’t matter anyway.”
Judd had to be wrong about Kirk. Besides, she wouldn’t put herself out there to be rejected again. Kirk had already let her down in that regard once. He hadn’t wanted her. And on the off chance that she and Kirk actually had a chance to try again, she was too afraid to fall in love. She’d only be lied to again. She didn’t want to feel like she always had to be looking for the cracks in his veneer to see if he was lying.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” Judd said. “I think I’ll go up top and make sure we’re still alone in the cove, after all.”
“Sure. Okay. I think I’ll drink my tea and lie down. Take one of the staterooms, if that’s okay.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll wake you when I hear from Kirk if you’re not already awake.”
She nodded. He disappeared up the steps, his big boots clomping as he went—to go make sure they were still alone? He’d told her all that stuff about being safe here in his favorite fishing spot, even though he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure they wouldn’t be discovered. She hoped they were still alone. Cora needed some downtime. She needed to catch her breath.
She brought the mug to her lips. Too hot. She set it down again.
He’d made her chamomile tea. He probably wasn’t the only tough former military man who stocked chamomile tea. What a thoughtful guy. And that was just it—this didn’t fit him all that well. Thoughtful, yes. Tea. No. She’d gotten a glimpse of what was inside his kitchen cabinet and hadn’t seen tea.
She wished she could have stayed with Kirk. Concern for him bombarded her. Admittedly, she was terrified to be on this boat without her protector. Even Judd, with all his large size and muscles, didn’t give her that sense of protection that poured off Kirk.
To his credit, the big man had tried to calm her by telling her stories of his navy adventures with Kirk.
With her cup of tea, she headed back to the stateroom she’d used earlier. For all practical purposes, Judd was a stranger to her, but he’d extended a helping hand in a dangerous situation to his navy buddy, Kirk. That should be good enough for her.
Settling on the small bed, she placed the tea on the side table and pulled a quilt decorated with anchors over her shoulders and tried to rest. Doubt held her captive, though. Who could she really trust? Who could she believe? If the men she’d worked with for six months could be murderers, then what did Cora really know about anyone? What did she know about Kirk? How did she know he wasn’t involved with the murder and destruction of the boat? He’d escaped before the vessel was destroyed.
