In Too Deep (14 page)

“I'm trying to find that handyman of yours.” Cal flicked his thumb against a folded sheet of paper that he took out of
his pocket. “There's a mistake on his social security number.”

“Yeah?” If there was, it was undoubtedly some glitch with the accounting department in Anchorage.

“Yeah.” Cal dropped into a chair next to Quinn's desk even though Quinn had remained standing. “Things are quiet around here this morning.”

Quinn made a point of glancing at his watch, hoping the man would take the hint and leave. “Personally, I like it that way. Makes it easier to get things done.”

“If you say so.” He put the sheet of paper back in an inside pocket of his windbreaker, folded his arms across his chest, and stretched out his legs.

Quinn took a couple of steps toward the door. “Anything else you need? I'm kind of busy here.”

“No. Just thinking.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “You need to be here to do that?”

Cal grinned. “You're a little testy this morning, Morrison. Relax.” He shoved out of the chair. “Just wondering where your handyman would be, since he's not at home and I haven't found him around here.”

“The island isn't that big. He'll turn up.” Quinn supposed he could guide Springfield toward the workshop where Max was probably hard at work. But he didn't.

“He'd better,” Cal said, heading for the door. “I've got a few things to ask him.”

“Hope it goes well for you.” Quinn shook off the irritation Springfield always raised. Quinn wasn't adverse to him checking people out if that would keep Lily out of harm's way. That night Springfield had ridden with Quinn back to the marina on Milt's boat, he had made a big point of that— Lily's safety was his only concern.

Max was right where Quinn had expected to find him, in the large heated workshop that had double doors opening out to the driveway behind the center. As usual, Max had on a radio, classical music playing loud enough that it could be
heard outside the room. From the looks of things, he had made a lot of progress on those final few repairs since Quinn had checked earlier in the morning.

“Springfield catch up with you?” Quinn asked.

“You mean the U.S. Marshal who's been asking questions all over town?” When Quinn nodded, he added, “Haven't had the pleasure of meeting the man.”

Quinn grinned. “And you'd like to keep it that way.”

“Heard he's a pain in the butt, so what do you think?” Max looked up from his task long enough to grin. He was installing a new headlight on the submersible, the final thing required to complete the repairs. Since the light was housed behind a pressure shield, the installation wasn't as quick and simple as it might have been. He had his tools laid out on a cloth in precise order, and screws and other parts neatly set alongside.

“It will sure be something to see this baby in the water,” Max said as Quinn stepped up to help him, handing over a screwdriver.

“I keep hoping. It seems like everything that could go wrong has, and I sure never figured I'd have it for three weeks without ever having it in the water.”

“This weekend, maybe.”

“If the tech from N.O.A.A. gets here in time to inspect our repairs,” Quinn said.

After another twenty minutes Max had finished and he and Quinn had moved onto the checklist of things to test.

Someone cried out. At first, Quinn thought the voice was one within the opera playing on the radio. A second later Thad burst through the connecting door to the lab yelling Quinn's name. The kid's face was flushed, his eyes frightened.

“Gotta come quick,” he said between gulping breaths as he came to a skidding halt in front of Quinn. “Annmarie is trapped.”

“Where?” Quinn demanded, following Thad to the exterior door on the other side of the lab, Max right behind them.

“The Hollywood Bowl.”

Quinn's blood froze. How the hell had the kids gotten from the safety of the road clear down the beach to the old collapsed mine shaft? It was no place for a couple of young kids. And the tide was coming in.

Thad pulled on his hand. “We've got to hurry.”

Quinn grabbed him by the shoulders. “Go tell Lily—”

“She told me to come get you.” Thad waved toward the hillside that lead to the beach. “She's on her way and said she'd meet you there.”

Of course she was already on her way. Images of her being battered by the surf raced with chilling clarity through Quinn's head. He had to get there first.

“Be faster if we drove,” Max said. “What do you need?”

“Hell if I even know.” The tide was supposed to be high today. Since there was another storm headed in, the surf would be huge. Assessing possibilities, Quinn took his keys out of his pocket and headed for his vehicle. “You coming?”

“If you need an extra pair of hands—”

“Let's go.” Quinn ran toward his SUV, figuring it was a piece of luck that he planned to paddle over to Foster Island later in the day. His kayak was tied to the roof the vehicle. Thad and Max climbed inside.

“What the hell were you two doing there?” Quinn asked Thad. “I thought you were on your way to your house.”

“We were,” Thad said, a quiver in his voice. “We were near Old Lady Harrison's house, and a guy said that he'd seen a black-and-white cat down here.”

“Annmarie's isn't the only black-and-white cat.”

“He said it looked like hers.”

“He?” Quinn glanced from the road to the boy. “Who?”

Thad squirmed. “I dunno. A guy I've seen before.”

“What happened next?”

“I told Annmarie ‘no way,' but she started to cry, so I told her we'd go look. We got down there, and we could see the cat. And it
was
Sweetie Pie.”

“And you went in to get her.” Of course they had, Quinn thought. Annmarie loved that animal.

“Where'd you leave Annmarie?” Max asked, giving voice to Quinn's question.

“We climbed up. You know, that place that looks like stairs at the very, very back?”

Quinn knew the place. The “stairs” were rotted timbers that had once supported the walls and ceiling of one of the shafts. Who knew when the next tide would yank them loose? Annmarie would be out of the water…temporarily.

At the bottom of the hill where the road forked to the village or toward the beach, Quinn brought the vehicle to a skidding stop. “Go get your mother and any other help she can round up,” he said, lifting Thad out of the vehicle.

Thad nodded his understanding and took off at a run, and Quinn jumped back in the vehicle. He put the vehicle into four-wheel drive and left the road, maneuvering around the boulders. Already his focus was on the best approach into the cave. If he was lucky, he could wade in, retrieve Annmarie and be back out before Lily showed up. If he wasn't, he'd have to go in on the kayak. He mentally rehearsed the entry into the cave, moving through the churning surf between huge boulders that stood like sentries at the entrance.

The short drive took forever to him. He knew this was faster than running here but every second seemed liked ten, every foot like a hundred. The breakers at the beach seemed bigger than ever today. Lily was nowhere to be seen. He could only pray they were far ahead of her.

“I've only been down here once,” Max was saying. “And it's sure no place for a couple of little kids.”

“You got that right.” All for a damn cat.

Quinn went as far as he dared with the vehicle, leaving it parked above the high-water line. From where they were they could see the wide opening of the cave, and each wave brought a huge swoosh of water that came in then sucked back out.

The water was too deep, too treacherous to make his way into the cave on foot. He looked back up the hill for Lily.

“She should be along any minute,” Quinn said as he began unfastening his kayak from the top of the SUV.

Without a word, Max helped him pull the boat off the vehicle. He carried it toward the waterline while Quinn put on a waterproof jacket, his life vest, and the kayak skirt that slipped over his shoulders and fastened like overalls. Slapping the helmet on his head, he grabbed the oar and followed Max.

“You make sure Lily stays here,” Quinn said over the roar of the surf.

Max nodded his understanding.

Within seconds Quinn was in the water and securely fastened in, thanks to Max's surprisingly expert help. Quinn paddled into the surf, using the swells and the breakers to carry him out far enough to make the turn and come back in toward the cave. When he made the turn and headed in, each crash of the surf against the walls looked huge to him.

He tracked through the sentry boulders and focused his attention on the back of the cave. To his complete dismay, Lily had beat him here. She was standing in waist-deep water and holding Annmarie on one of the timbers above her head.

Waves battered Lily's legs. The surf swept out and left her in less than a foot of water, but he could see that she had climbed up three or four feet from the floor of the cave. The surf crashed back in and swept Quinn toward them. The wave reached Lily's chest before it receded. The next breaker or the next, and she'd lose her balance.

He'd never been as scared. He called her name. She was soaked, and the sweater she'd thrown on would do nothing to keep her warm.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes dark, frightened. Her skin had about as much color as salt.

“Mr. Quinn!” Annmarie called.

“Hey, munchkin,” Quinn called, hoping that he sounded
more reassuring than he felt. “You doing okay?” he asked Lily, somehow holding the boat still.

She nodded.

There was no way to get Lily and Annmarie out of the cave at the same time. The knot in his stomach grew tighter.

“Annmarie, can you hang on a little while longer by yourself?” Quinn asked. He didn't like leaving the child here, but she could climb up a little higher. She, at least, was dry.

Lily sent him a fierce look over her shoulder. “I'm not leaving her in here.”

“The water is getting higher by the second, Lily. I can't get you both out at the same time.” He didn't add that hypothermia scared him as much as the prospect of drowning.

“Annmarie first.”

Quinn shook his head. “Lily—”

“I can climb up higher.” With her free hand she gestured toward the narrow ledge where Annmarie perched.

“Okay,” he agreed after deciding they had no other option. When the next wave ebbed, he rammed the paddle into a crack between two of the timbers, which gave Lily something to hang on to as she scrambled beyond the water's reach. Shivering, she reached down and helped Quinn pull the paddle free.

“That was a stupid stunt,” she said to him. “What if it had broken off?”

“It didn't, so don't think about it.”

Quinn stripped off his life vest and handed it to Lily. She took it and started to fasten it around Annmarie.

“No,” he said fiercely. “If I don't get back here as fast as I'd like, you're going to need that.”

Lily had one concern only: her daughter's safety.

“Put it on, damn it, Lily.” A muscle ticked in Quinn's jaw. “I'm not leaving here until you do.”

“You're taking Annmarie—”

“And you're wearing the damn vest if I have to get out of this boat and put it on you.”

It was a threat he couldn't carry through, but given the
terrible risk he'd taken with the oar to get her above the water, she had the awful feeling that he'd try.

“Anybody ever tell you that you're a hardheaded man?” With shaking fingers she stripped off the sodden sweater that clung like slime to the sheer fabric of her blouse, then put on the life vest. It was miles too big for her, but it was warmer by far than the sweater and still held Quinn's body heat. She pulled the zipper to her chin, then glared at him, her imagination kicking into overdrive on a dozen horrible outcomes because she had the vest instead of Quinn. “Happy?”

“Not even close, darlin'.” His attention shifted to Annmarie. “When I say go, you're gonna jump into my arms.”

She opened her jacket and Sweetie Pie poked her head out. Quinn swore.

“What if I drop Sweetie Pie?”

Quinn extended his arm. “Hand her down.”

She did, and the cat made the transfer with all four legs and claws extended, announcing her displeasure with an unhappy yowl. Quinn slipped the cat beneath the skirt around the opening of the kayak.

He glanced back at the wave, and Lily could see he was watching for that moment when it would lift him higher toward her and her daughter.

“Now!” he commanded. “Jump, Annmarie.”

She did while Lily's heart stopped beating.

Quinn's arms closed securely around Annmarie. With no fuss he settled Annmarie in front of him and fastened the top of the skirt back up, cinching Annmarie close to his body and sealing the boat. Then he took off his helmet and put it on her.

He looked back at Lily, his hair plastered against his head and his dark eyes intent. “I won't let anything happen to her. I promise.”

Lily believed him. “I know.”

He glanced at the timbers above Lily. “You climb up another four or five feet.”

“Get going,” she countered.

“Now, Lily,” he said. “I need to know that you're beyond the water's reach until I get back.”

Acutely aware of him watching her, she did as he asked, the wood feeling sticky beneath her hands, the smell of sea-water and creosote clogging her throat. She reached a perch wide enough to sit on, and looked back at Quinn.

He winked. “Stay put, darlin'. I'll be quick as I can.”

Lily wished she felt as confident as he sounded. Now that she was out of the water, the surf seemed even more huge.

He turned the boat around, every move demonstrating strength, finesse and his confidence in his ability. His attention focused on the incoming breakers, and as soon as the next one hit the wall, he paddled toward the opening of the cave, the water carrying the kayak away at a dizzying speed.