Alive at 5 (Entangled Ignite) (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“Put your regulator in and take a few breaths, George.”

Sam watched Zack place one hand on the bottom of George’s tank and put his other hand on her cameraman’s regulator. Then Zack tried to shake the tank up and down. It didn’t move much. “Tank is secure.”

He was an ex-Army Ranger, so he had to know what he was doing. Right? Worry shimmied down her back as George tested his air supply. Zack looked at a gauge and tapped George on the back. “You’re good.”

“Zack, I don’t think you should go. What if Robert—Ian, whatever his name is—what if he did mess with your stuff?”

He stood up straighter. “You just watched me check it all out.”

She cocked her head at him. “So did Maxwell.”

“I didn’t let anyone else prep my gear.”

A twinge of guilt rocked Sam. She shouldn’t have let Maxwell hand off his gear to do her interview.

“You got a good look at this photographer guy?” George asked her, fiddling with his mask. “Is it him?”

“I think so.”

“What does that mean, Steele? You
think
or you
know
? You’re a reporter, for Christ’s sake.” George’s eyes looked bloodshot and tired.

Maybe he shouldn’t dive, either. “It means I can’t be sure it’s the same guy I saw in the Fitzpatrick family picture. But he was hovering over Zack’s dive gear. I’m just a little concerned about what he might have done. We are investigating suspicious deaths, remember?”

Zack smiled at her with what she supposed was reassuring confidence. “I’ve double-checked the gear. I promise. But I’m glad you’re so worried about me. It’s nice.”

Smiling, he brushed a hair away from her cheek. He always did that to distract her. It wasn’t working. She could tell he was nervous, too. And that made her even more worried.

“I promise I’ll keep my attention on Robert while he’s diving with us, and I will be extra careful.”

She wanted to knock some sense into him. “I know you think you’re Superman, but—”

George groaned behind her. “Will you chill the hell out? You’re making me nervous, too.”

She glared at him. “Why don’t you stay out of it? You weren’t there when we were talking to that snake.”

“I was rushing to get my camera. You couldn’t even keep him talking long enough for me to get him on video.”

Zack smacked a fin against the side of the boat. “Stop it. Both of you. People are watching.”

As if that would keep her from speaking her mind. After doing 9 gs and surviving, she refused to be that scared girl anymore. “Fine. Ignore my warning.” They
would
listen. “What do you think you’ll find down there besides frenzied sharks? Hidden clues to one of the murders? Michael Flint died here a year ago. There’s nothing left to find.”

Zack knelt to grab his fins.

Damn
him. If she thought she could move fast enough, she would have thrown the fins overboard. Childish maybe, but they weren’t taking her seriously.

Zack walked to the back of
The Great Escape
. A series of steps led down to the dive platform, almost even with the ocean. The rocking of the boat splashed cool salt water onto the standing area.

Not only was Zack diving, he was going first. Watching him made her a little dizzy. He sat on the top step and slipped his fins over his feet. He motioned for her to sit next to him. She hoped he could feel the exasperation rolling off her body.

When she sat down, he whispered, “Calm down. I’m diving with George so we can keep our cover.” His voice was low and reassuring. “I want our friend Robert to take the bait and follow.”

She looked behind her, not spotting the photographer, but she did see a few vacationers watching them with interest. A vacationer from Texas wandered their way, fins in his hands.

“If he dives, that leaves you on board with access to all his personal belongings,” Zack whispered. “He’s not going to dive with his smartphone. Go see if you can find it and prove he actually took the picture. Then delete it and any others.”

She dropped her gaze, cheeks burning. Just the thought of what else might have been caught on his camera made her so damn mad.

“While you’re poking around, look for anything else that ties him or Monica to any of the deaths.”

“Like what?”

“You’re the reporter.” He grinned.

She’d grown to love that smile, but today it didn’t wipe away her dread. “I can’t change your mind, no matter what I say, can I?”

He shook his head and lowered the mask over his face.

Zack was still acting like the Lone Ranger. She wondered if he’d ever change.

George went down the steps, carrying the underwater casing he would use to shoot video of the shark dive. He threw her a thumbs up.

Reluctantly, she got up and moved to a bench on the side of the boat near the stern, out of everyone’s way.
Oh, boy.
Why couldn’t she shake the bad feeling? Zack did know what he was doing.

A couple of the vacationers gathered at the back of the boat watched her with genuine interest. Word had spread that she and Zack were more than just reporter and subject. The day on the tarmac at MacDill Air Force Base had pretty much confirmed that. She didn’t really care about that. She just didn’t want to stir up any other suspicions. Not when they were stuck out on a chartered boat with a possible murderer and very few places to run and hide.

“Ya’ll ready?” The captain, who was also the dive master on this trip, went past her to the bottom of the stairs and onto the swim platform. Water lapped at his finned feet.

George circled around, looking a bit concerned. “Hey, Zack, I didn’t check the buoyancy control device.”

Zack didn’t even flinch. “I checked the BCD earlier. It’s working. Let’s hit it.” He stepped out into the water, and with hardly a splash disappeared into the crystal blue sea.

Sam’s rapidly beating heart sank with him.

She stared at the brilliant blue water. Stars of sunlight danced on the surface, making the sea look happy and peaceful. The consistent roll of the waves mesmerized her but didn’t wash away her worry as the other divers followed.

“How’s it going?”

Monica’s sultry voice pulled her out of her trance. She had to get up and go below deck, do her job.

“Samantha?” Monica’s voice went up an octave, into that zone of irritation. “I asked you how it’s been going.”

She was standing in front of Sam, a young brunette glued to her side. Sam placed a hand above her eyes and squinted. She couldn’t tell if Monica was being serious or sarcastic, and frankly she didn’t care. “Are you getting everything you need?” Monica was smiling, but she had her arms crisscrossed over her chest.

“Everything is great, thank you.” Reluctantly, Sam turned her attention away from the water where the red and white dive flag had been buoyed. “George is shooting video underwater right now.” She forced a smile. “I’m sure he’ll catch great moments of Zack flirting with whatever dangerous sharks show up.”

Monica sat down next to her.

Terrific
. The woman wanted to hang out.

“When will the story air?” The young girl next to Monica remained standing, as if waiting for her boss to give her permission to sit down, too.

“That depends,” Sam told Monica. “Hi,” she said to the girl. “I’m Sam Steele.”

“Oh, I know. I’m from Lutz, near Tampa. I watch you on the news all the time.” The young girl’s voice bubbled like a teenager’s. “I’m Jenny.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jenny was a younger version of herself, she thought, with dark eyes and dark hair, about the same length as hers. “Hard to know when it’ll air. We have to wrap up this trip. Then my cameraman and I have to get the footage back to the station. I have to log the video, pick out sound bites, then decide which clips we want to use. So far, we have a lot of great stuff to work with.” She smiled at Monica. “I could fill a documentary.”

Monica nodded, a Cheshire cat’s grin on her face. “Of course. No company puts on adventures like we do.”

Of that, I am sure.
“Then I’ll have to write the story, and George will edit the video. That could take a few days.”

“You should have enough video already.” Monica didn’t even fake a smile this time.

Was the manager trying to get her to leave? “Well, the vacation isn’t over yet.” And how the hell could they leave anyway? Sam turned her attention to Jenny, “Do you work for X-Force?”

“I’m the cook,” Jenny answered.

“In that small kitchen down below?”

“You don’t think these uppity men cook for themselves, do you?”

Sam laughed. “Good point.”

“You have such a great job.” Jenny sat next to her on the other side. “Working in TV news must be exciting.”

Jenny’s vibe was so positive—a much-needed change from the tension Sam had been feeling from Monica the last few days. She dropped her shoulders a notch. “For the most part, reporting the news is exciting. At least it’s different every day.” She’d loved her job, before the panic attacks had made each live shot a struggle.

“Do you always enjoy the fringe benefits of the job?” Monica asked coldly.

“Excuse me?”

Monica smirked. “Obviously you and Zack are—”

Sam cut her off. “Are what?”

“You’re both
enjoying
this assignment.” Monica stabbed her with a knowing look.

“Why, yes we are.” She gave Monica her back. “So, Jenny, where did you learn to cook?”

The dark-headed girl shifted on the bench. “Who says I can actually cook?”

Her shy smile warmed Sam, and she laughed.

Monica gave her shoulder a persistent, pissed-off tap. “Isn’t that an ethical violation?”

“What? Pretending you know how to cook?” Sam asked.

“No, sleeping with the subject of your story.”

“I’m sorry?” Sam couldn’t believe Monica had the nerve.

“Oh, I bet you’re not sorry.” Sarcasm laced Monica’s words.

Jenny shuffled her feet on the deck and cleared her throat. “Um, I think I’ll go check on what I can throw together for lunch.”

Monica’s gaze had locked with Sam’s. “Good idea,” Monica said.

In the past, Sam probably would have been the one to give up in this game of chicken. But now, she had no intention of letting Monica make her feel guilty for her relationship with Zack. What the hell did Monica care anyway? Unless she wanted Zack for herself.

The sun rained down on them in drops of intense tropical heat.

Sam pushed her chin out and stared directly at Monica. “Do you have a problem with me?”

The woman pulled her blond hair behind her, twisting it into a knot, but she never broke their eye-lock. “No, I just wanted to give you a friendly warning.”

“Oh, I’m feeling your good intentions.”

Monica’s eyes narrowed. She snorted out a laugh.

“I don’t know why you need to warn me, Monica. I’m not the one swimming with the sharks today.”

“Think you’re not? I’ve been working these vacations since we started them three and a half years ago. These adventure seekers are like sharks. They’re predators drawn to excitement, like the tiger sharks are drawn to the chum. They’re not like other men you’ve dated.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Now Sam was totally confused as to where Monica was going with this conversation. Was this about Zack? Or something else?

The woman’s gaze drifted away, over the water. “They’re adrenaline junkies. Thrill-seekers. Nothing is
ever
enough because their brains are wired differently. They need constant excitement and stimulation. And most of them are lone wolves, doing what they want all the time without much regard for the wishes of others.”

“People say most reporters are adrenaline junkies, too. I’m a big fan of excitement and stimulation.”

Monica scoffed. “These guys will sweep you off your feet, say all the right things, and woo you until you give in. But don’t be fooled. It’s the chase they love, not you. Once they’ve captured you, they move on to the next big adventure, and they’ll abandon you, leaving you wondering what the hell happened.” Unexpectedly, she dropped her gaze and her voice. Sam had to lean in even further to hear her. “They’ll scar you.”

Was she talking about Zack? Impossible. Dehydrated from the heat and the fact she’d hadn’t eaten anything today, nothing moved down Sam’s throat, even when she swallowed. “You know this from personal experience?”

Monica smiled, but her gaze looked guarded, as if they held a sad secret. “You should stay away from Zack. In fact, you should leave. I can call you a helicopter lift.”

Sam sensed something other than jealousy motivated this woman. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She glanced at the water. No sign of any of the divers yet. She still had to find Robert’s bunk and go through his stuff.

When she turned back, Monica was staring at her again with that unreadable gaze. Sam needed to make up an excuse and get away. “I’ve got to…got to go to the bathroom. Thanks for the enlightening conversation.” She rose to leave.

“I blew off the warnings as well.” Monica’s grip on her arm stalled her. “Then I met Michael Flint.”

That name and the anger in her voice stunned Sam. She plopped back down. “Michael Flint?” The undercover cop who died while diving with the sharks on his adventure vacation a year ago. “You were lovers?” Might as well get right to the important question.

“I loved him.”

Wow.
Didn’t see that coming. Why were Monica’s eyes full of fire instead of sadness? “You don’t seem very upset about his death.”

“It was a while ago.”

Monica’s reply sucked the air out of her. “Okay.” What was the deal with the freaky employees on this trip? And did Monica know she’d been sleeping with an investigator?

Her cheeks did look flushed, but it was hard to tell if that was a developing sunburn or real sentiment.

“It was over, anyway.” The manager’s voice iced over. “Michael betrayed me.”

Now they were getting to the real story. “With another woman?” Sam already knew the answer to that question. Rita, the cute waitress from North Florida.

“Obviously, I wasn’t enough for him.”

What does one woman say to another after that? Sam studied her. Monica stared out at the water, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth set in an angry line.