Against the Tide (13 page)

“They were on one of your charters?”

“That's right. The thing is, they've been fishing twice this week, once with me, once with Mo, but they didn't really seem that interested in the sport.”

“They're tourists. People like to try different things.”

“You're probably right.” He glanced back toward the Jeep but the men were already inside their room. “Nevin sounds foreign. He looks Middle Eastern. I didn't like the way he was staring at you.”

She grinned. “I don't think that counts for much.”

His mouth edged up. “Maybe not to you.”

She laughed. “So besides the fact the guy was giving me the eye, what else bothers you?”

“More like the stink eye, and I'm not sure. It just kind of felt like they were holding something back.”

“They could afford two charters and they're nicely dressed. I can't imagine they'd need to kill someone for money.”

“No.”

“Maybe they heard or saw something that night but don't want to get involved.”

“That's what I was thinking.”

“So what do we do about it?”

“I'm not sure yet. The forensics report hasn't come back on Chip's vehicle. Maybe the cops will find something conclusive in his truck or apartment, and we won't have to worry about it.”

“Maybe.”

Rafe pulled up in front of the café and turned off the engine. “We've done all we can for now. How about I fix you supper tonight?”

Liv shook her head. “I can't. I've got the dinner shift. Nell switched with me last night.”

“All right, then I'll come over to your place after you close.”

She looked up at him with those big gray eyes. “Please try to understand. I'm not used to spending this much time with anyone. I need some space, Rafe.”

He didn't miss the wariness in her face. Being this close to someone was clearly new to her. Hell, it was new to him. He and Sally had dated for three years, but he was already in deeper with Liv than he'd ever been with Sally.

He reached up and ran a finger along her jaw. “I know that, darlin'. I'll give you your space.” He leaned down, brushed her lips with a kiss, settled for a moment, felt her tremble, and backed away. “You can have tonight, but tomorrow I'm cooking you that supper I promised, yes?”

Her features softened. “All right.” She smiled. “Grilling, right? You said you couldn't cook.”

“That's right. I'm a lousy cook, but spectacular on the grill.”

She laughed. “Tomorrow, then.”

He didn't say more as she cracked open the door and slid out of the pickup, hurried inside the café.

Rafe blew out a breath. He was still faintly aroused from that single brief kiss. Damn. He needed a long night in bed with Liv. Either that or a good, long swim. Rafe turned the truck up the hill toward the pool.

Chapter Fifteen

Afternoon slid into evening, grew later. A black night sky hid behind a dense layer of fog outside the windows. Stillness shrouded the single-story house, hidden off the road above Valdez. Trent listened to the sound of heavy work boots coming up the front steps, followed by a sharp knock on the door.

“That's him.” Tatiana Valenchenko tossed her blunt-cut, straight, black hair over her shoulder. She was average height, average weight; at first glance, nothing out of the ordinary. But a set of perfect curves hid beneath her unimpressive gray slacks and dark gray sweater. And with very little makeup, her face went from plain to striking.

Tatiana was a true chameleon, able to quietly blend in without being noticed. Here she called herself simply Anna.

“Shall I let him in?” she asked. “Or would you rather he wait out in the cold for a while to demonstrate your displeasure?”

“He knows why I want to see him.”

Anna was beautiful, brilliant, and deadly. She was Trent's current mistress and the only one of his associates he completely trusted. And only then because she had as much to gain from their endeavor as he did.

“You realize Cain has become more of a liability than an asset.”

“Yes.” Trent's fingers tightened around the folded-up
Valdez Star
in his hand. The headline,
MAN KILLED IN ACCIDENT AT PIPELINE TERMINAL
, was stamped into his brain. He tossed the paper onto the side table in the entry. The vague text message Cain had sent had been enough to alert Trent to the latest problem the man had caused.

“Unfortunately, we need him. Open the door.”

She did as she was told, but only because she knew he was right. Anna wasn't one of the women who bowed and scraped at his every command. She didn't have to. She had a sharp mind and a beautiful body. She commanded men, not the other way around. That was what he liked about her.

The door opened and Darius Cain walked into the rented house in the hills. He was a big man, muscular through the chest and shoulders. He was part African American, though his features were more Caucasian. He was handsome and refined, his skin a light coffee-with-cream. Yet an air of menace clung to him like a dirty shirt.

In Illinois, where he'd grown up, he'd recently adopted the name Khalid Ahmad. His half brother, Jamal, had converted to Islam while he was in prison. Since Darius worshipped Jamal, who'd been killed in a gang-related shooting, he'd decided to follow in his brother's footsteps.

That Cain, like Jamal, was a sociopath without the slightest conscience, made him an asset to the operation.

“You killed a man out at the terminal,” Trent said, without inviting him into the living room or offering him any sort of refreshment. “How did that happen?”

Cain's mouth thinned. “It wasn't my fault. The stupid ass stumbled onto a cache, found some of the explosives, then tried to blackmail me.” He scoffed. “Wanted me to pay him a hundred grand to keep quiet. I told him I'd meet him at the top of the storage tank with the money.” Cain laughed. “Poor fucker never did get paid.”

Trent strolled toward him. Darius was smart, but he was a loose cannon, had been from the start. He was there because he more than met the criteria for the operation. Tough, savvy, no arrest record—a must for anyone involved—and he had worked in the Texas oil fields.

“This is the second time you've deviated from the plan,” Trent said. “Each of those times, you've compromised the mission. If the authorities find out you're involved in either of the murders, our entire operation will fail. Do you understand that?”

“What was I supposed to do? The guy would have gone to the cops. You saying I shouldn't have killed him?”

A muscle tightened in Trent's jaw. Unlike his brother, Cain had completed high school and a couple of years of college. He spoke well, knew how to dress. Cain had almost made it out.
Almost.

Trent worked to keep his voice even. “This is going to be over soon. If everything goes as planned, we'll all achieve our goals. All you have to do is keep your head on straight until we can make this end. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, but if someone else gets wise to what's going on—”

“You make sure they don't. And you do it without committing another murder. Can you do that?”

“Well, I—”

“Can you do that, Darius? Because you said you were doing this for your brother, doing it for Jamal. Can you manage to do what you're told long enough for our mission to succeed?”

Cain shifted his weight onto his other foot and stood up a little straighter. Jamal was the key to handling Darius Cain. His love for his dead brother was his Achilles' heel. Trent used it ruthlessly.

“What about Heng and Nadir? What are they doing?”

“They're playing the roles they were assigned. They're acting like tourists till it's time for them to do their jobs. Now answer my question. Can you do what you're supposed to without any more problems?”

Cain's mouth tightened. “I'll do my part,” he said grimly. “You just make sure everyone else does theirs.”

“Let me worry about that.” Trent walked over and opened the door. “You can go. I don't want to see you again until the meeting.”

Cain flicked a glance at Tatiana, but made no comment, just turned and walked out of the house. Trent listened to his fading footsteps, then the engine started on the older model, beat-up brown Chevy that had been purchased for his use. The sound slowly disappeared into the mist.

“I don't like him,” Tatiana said. “And I don't trust him. He enjoys killing too much.”

“If everything goes smoothly from now on, we won't need him anymore. Ever. Darius Cain will be as expendable as the men he murdered.”

Anna walked up to him, slid her arms around his neck, leaned in and kissed him. “I do not wish to think of Cain. Let us talk of something more pleasant.”

Trent nodded. He'd already dealt with one problem today. Lee Heng had phoned on the burner Trent had given him. Apparently there was a new problem with the first mess Cain had created. The police had located the original crime scene, knew the murder had been committed outside the motel.

The good news was, an arrest had been made.

The bad news was, a couple of locals, friends of the victim, were digging around, asking questions. A woman and a guy named Brodie said they wanted to be sure the police had the evidence they needed to convict the man.

Rafe Brodie was the owner of the charter boat fleet Trent had been using, the man who had captained the boat the day he and Anna had been aboard to recon the area as part of their tourist cover.

Trent had told Heng to find out who the woman was, and keep an eye on both of them. And do it without being caught.

Christ, all he needed was a few more days. Just a little more time without someone screwing up.

Tatiana took his hand and started leading him toward the bedroom. At the doorway, she paused, slid her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

Only a few more days, he thought. In the meantime, he had Tatiana to please him. Trent was hard before he closed the bedroom door.

 

 

It was going to be a long day aboard
Scorpion.
A storm was moving in. With any luck it would be brief, but the seas were going to be rough, which meant some of the fishermen might get sick. Rafe had a nine-hour charter today. Since it was paid in advance, the passengers would show up no matter the weather. It was the captain's job to keep them out of the roughest parts of the Sound and still give them a good day of fishing.

It was early, an hour before the charter passengers were due to arrive. As he strode down the dock toward the boat, he spotted Mo Blanchard ahead of him, ambling along in his seaman's swagger, making his way toward
Sea Dragon.

“Hey, Mo, wait up!” Rafe called out. Mo stopped and turned, allowing Rafe to catch up to him.

“Got the
Dragon
up and runnin',” Mo said. “Just a little problem with the fuel intake. No big deal. My lady's good to go.” He was short and stout, a bull of a man and a veteran seaman.

“I know,” Rafe said. “I talked to Pete Simmons down at the repair shop.” He glanced out at the row of mostly white boats bobbing along the dock, couldn't stop a surge of pride when his gaze landed on
Scorpion
. The Mac was a real beauty, only a few years old when Rafe had bought her in Seward, a longtime dream come true.

Part of the money had come from the sale of property his family owned in Texas, enough to get him the boat, expand his business, and still leave him way more than comfortable.

“Schedule shows you've got six passengers for a full-day charter,” Rafe said to Mo.

“That's right.”

“I know I don't have to tell you, but try to find a little smooth water. Always better if half the folks aboard don't get sick.”

“I'll watch out for them. I don't much like cleanin' up after 'em when the weather don't cooperate.”

“How did yesterday go?” Mo had captained
Scorpion
while Rafe spent the morning in bed with Liv. Of course he didn't say that. With Chip Reed in custody and no new leads, for the moment their investigation into Scotty's murder had hit a dead end.

“Halibut were biting,” Mo said. “Good day all round.” He chuckled. “Best entertainment of the day was Zach and Jaimie.”

“That right?”

“That girl can get real salty, she puts her mind to it. Zach lets her push him till he gets tired of it, then he puts a stop to it, nice and firmlike, you know? Boy knows just how to handle her.”

“I've got a hunch he's got plans for Jaimie.”

“I seen the way he used to watch her when he was workin' with me. Girl couldn't see Zach for her crush on Scott, but Zach was always there, biding his time. Scotty was never right for Jaimie. She needs a man with a firm hand. Zach might just be that man.”

Rafe chuckled. “Could be. I guess we'll see.”

Rafe climbed aboard
Scorpion
while Mo continued down the dock to
Sea Dragon.
The third boat in the fleet,
Sea Devil
, was captained by Josh Dorset. Josh was a few years younger than Rafe, happily married with a baby on the way. He was competent and extremely capable. Rafe rarely had to worry about Josh.

As he set to work in the cabin, he thought of Zach and Jaimie, which made him think of Olivia and the dinner he was cooking for her tonight. He was facing a nine-hour charter in rough weather. He'd be tired as hell when he got home.

A memory arose of Liv in her lacy hot pink thong, and his groin tightened. Not
that
tired, he thought with the trace of a smile, and went back to work.

 

 

Liv glanced at the clock. It was already four in the afternoon. Rafe would be expecting her to show up at his house for supper at seven. Her mouth went dry. How could she have been stupid enough to agree?

“So how did it go?” Katie had a way of intruding when Liv most needed time to think. “You and Rafe went off looking for clues, right?”

Just the mention of his name sent her thoughts in his direction again. She remembered the pain she had felt at the gruesome details of Scotty's murder. How Rafe had pulled her protectively against him. How just having him there had given her a shot of strength.

“Rafe's a Scorpio, you know,” Katie said as if they had been talking about Rafe all day. “Probably the reason he named his boat
Scorpion
.”

“I don't believe in astrology. I doubt Rafe does, either.”

“I do. I used to date a Scorpio, and Rafe fits the description perfectly.”

Her curiosity kicked in. “What are they supposed to be like?”

Katie smiled. “When I was going with Griff, I was really into that stuff. Let me see . . . a Scorpio is serious and driven. He can be overbearing and sometimes demanding. To a Scorpio, everything's black and white. I remember they like solving puzzles, finding out people's secrets. They're in ultimate control of their destiny, intensely passionate, and wildly possessive.”

Katie grinned. “That's gotta be Rafe, right? I see the way he looks at you. Like you belong to him and another man better not think about getting too close.”

Liv thought of what he'd said about the man at the motel, about not liking the way he had looked at her. Katie was right. It sounded exactly like Rafe. He was overbearing and possessive. He was dominating in bed and sexy as hell.

So far he hadn't asked much about her past, but the interest was there in those golden-brown eyes, a look that said he wanted to know more about her.

She shouldn't have let him spend the night. Now that she had, she needed to distance herself, put things back the way they were before. She didn't need Rafe Brodie digging into her past. She couldn't afford for Rafe to know her secrets. It could endanger both of their lives.

“Liv, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

She managed to smile. “Rafe and I are mostly just friends. One night doesn't make a relationship and that's the way it's going to stay.”

Katie grinned as if she knew some deep female secret. “Good luck with that.” She lifted her apron off over her head. “My shift's over. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Liv just nodded. She'd agreed to have supper with Rafe. Which involved far more than just supper. Dear God, what on earth had she been thinking?

The hours slipped past. The more she thought about the evening ahead, the more she realized what a mistake she had made. She was close to a full-blown panic attack by six o'clock, though she had never had one before. She had to do something. She had to call him and she had to do it now.