In Too Deep (28 page)

She kicked off her sandals and
tossed them into the bin. When she looked up, West stood right
beside her, his face grim. He slid one rough palm along her nape
and tugged her in, his lips feathering over hers with restrained
fire.

“
Be careful around them,” he said
pulling back. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

She nodded like a marionette, the
brief taste of him lingering on her lips. Wrenching her gaze from
his mouth, she dropped the bin overboard and dived after it, the
cold slash of the ocean on her skin distracting her from the urge
to reel West in for another, hotter kiss.

Nearly an hour later, Piper’s arms
ached from lugging bucket after bucket to the twelve whales that
still lived. The back of her neck stung as she hauled more water up
the beach. She couldn’t imagine the pain these poor creatures were
in and if their skin dried out the results were a lot more serious
than sunburn.

She poured the contents of the
first bucket over the whale, carefully avoiding its blowhole, and
bent down to meet its small black eye. “It’s okay, buddy, I’ve got
you.”

Running a hand over the creature’s
massive flank, she grabbed the second bucket and tipped her head
back to glare at the sky. Why couldn’t it have poured today?
Stewart Island was notorious for its four-seasons-in-one-day
climate and high annual rainfall—surely on the one day it would be
welcome, the island could cooperate?

From the distance, yet growing
louder, drifted the growl of engines. Piper upended her bucket over
the whale and jogged back to the water’s edge. A fleet of boats
appeared around the rocky tip of the bay—dinghies with outboard
motors, larger fishing boats, and bringing up the rear, The
Mollymawk—all of them filled to capacity. More volunteers on their
way, thank God.

Tarryn, the new Department of
Conservation worker, jumped off the first dinghy to arrive. She
scanned the line of whales, some still now, as she waded onto the
beach.

Expecting a blunt request for
details followed by a string of orders, Piper was shocked when
Tarryn grabbed her in a quick hug. “You’re doing an amazing
job.”

Piper didn’t have time to mumble
more than, “Thanks,” when dinghies and people and supplies
descended into organized chaos across the sand.

Hours blended into a sweaty, salty
blur as countless people, both locals and loopies, toiled under the
sun to keep the whales hydrated. Her mother, sister, and Erin
worked together on the whale next to the one she, West, and Ben
claimed responsibility for. Piper had no energy to even raise an
eyebrow when Ben arrived with the second wave of volunteers, a
rubbish bag taped around his cast and a
don’t give me any
grief
scowl on his face. Everyone worked as a team and they
needed each and every person if there was any hope of refloating
the last nine whales on the incoming tide.

Piper spotted a duo of strangers
walking amongst the crowd. The male had a monstrous camcorder on
his shoulder, the blonde woman at his side held her flippy skirt
down with one hand and clutched a microphone in the other. A
national TV crew—just what they needed underfoot. She rolled her
eyes when the woman squealed, drawing her knee up as a whale
splashed a flipper in the trench dug around its body. Squatting by
her whale, Piper smoothed her hand over its rounded head and
murmured encouragement.

“
Whale-whispering now, Pipe?” Ben
hefted another bucket and poured the contents along the animal’s
back.

“
The whale’s still a better
conversationalist than you.”

She stood and the TV duo was
directly opposite, camcorder trained on her no doubt sweaty and
sunburnt face. Super. Then she looked closer at the woman, whose
make-up-gunked lashes popped wide open.

Oh, hell, no. Not her!

The woman elbowed her companion in
the ribs and thrust a microphone in Piper’s face. “Constable
Harland, isn’t it? Are you here in an official
capacity?”

Since when did a police diver—and
Ms. Charlotte Cooper knew her occupation since she interviewed
Piper after she joined the squad—officiate at a whale stranding?
Piper sensed, rather than saw, her family tracking their exchange,
so she kept her reply polite. “No, I’m off duty. Just helping, with
everyone else.”

“
How fortunate you were here.”
Charlotte offered a piranha-like smile and with a quick hand-signal
to her partner, turned to face the camera.

“
Along with the many locals who
have turned out to save these majestic creatures of the deep is
Piper Harland,” the woman’s voice projected magnificently in the
sudden silence. “Constable Harland is a member of the New Zealand
Police National Dive Squad and the first woman to join this
male-dominated and highly exclusive team of
professionals—”

Piper zoned out from the rest of
Charlotte’s monologue, blood surfing past her eardrums in a
deafening roar.

Oh, crap.

Her neck twisted in stiff
increments. Shaye and her mother stood side by side, gripping each
other’s hands, their eyes unblinking with shock. Next to her, Ben’s
curled lip and furrowed brow was what she’d expect if she switched
allegiance from the New Zealand All Blacks to the Australian
Wallabies. Baffled disgust summed it up.

“
What’s she on about, Piper?” he
hissed in her ear. “You’re just a cop.”

She lurched backward and her
shoulders bumped into warm solidness, rough hands wrapping around
her upper arms and squeezing.
West
. Right there to assume
the role of her backbone since hers liquefied to jelly.

Piper never wanted her family to
find out this way—had never intended them to find out at all. After
Charlotte Cooper shoved a camera in her face the first time, she’d
been prepared to spill her secret. But the reporter’s interview was
edited to a ten-second slot and overshadowed by the victim the
squad had searched for at the time. When no one mentioned it, Piper
decided to keep that part of her career under wraps. The likelihood
of her appearing on camera again seemed small—police divers weren’t
a glamorous bunch like homicide cops—and really, who wanted to hear
about people who rooted around underwater for corpses?

Now that omission came back to
bite her on the ass.

“
Ms. Harland, does it faze you
working with all these dead things—” Charlotte startled when the
whale between them blew air out its spout “—or are you so hardened
by facing death every day you feel nothing?”

Piper’s breath hitched in her
chest, her lungs compressing into two hard pebbles. She stared at
the reporter, at the man with the camcorder’s indifferent black eye
trained on her, and thoughts emptied from her head.

“
As you mentioned earlier,
Constable Harland
is a professional,” West’s voice, steady
and calm, spoke from behind her. “But if you’re implying police
divers don’t have hearts or feel compassion, then
you’re
not
doing
your
job professionally.”

Charlotte’s mouth clamped shut and
she made a cutting motion to her cameraman. When he hoisted the
camcorder off his shoulder, her eyes pinched into slits and she
slapped her hands on her hips. “I only suggested that for you,
Constable Harland
, death doesn’t hold the same meaning as it
does to the general public.”

Piper’s mind returned to the
morning her father drowned. The rush of emotions thundering through
her brain, clawing out her heart, after she’d finned through the
depths and glimpsed her father’s face. When she’d seen his open
mouth and the lack of bubbles, she’d known—intimately
known—death.

“
You’re wrong,” Piper croaked
through salt-encrusted lips. “Death holds the same meaning for
everyone. It’s grief, and loss, and devastation. It’s no less
meaningful for those of us who face it every day. We’re not
hardened by death, we’re
strengthened
by it—because in order
to do what we do over and over again, it’s only knowing we help the
deceased’s friends and family that makes our job bearable.” She
cleared her throat, suddenly aware of the murmurs growing louder
around her.

“
Somebody give this chick a
soapbox.” Charlotte nudged her cameraman again, but he moved aside,
shaking his head.

“
Watch what you say about my
sister, lady,” Ben growled.

“
Yeah, back off, blondie.” Ford’s
voice sounded nothing like his usual laid-back self.

“
We don’t like outsiders insulting
one of our own.” Erin stepped closer to Piper, looking like she
wanted to crack something together and not a pair of
eggs.

Her mother and Shaye stood beside
Ben, Glenna shooting the infamous Harland death-glare at the
reporter. On her other side and gathered around her and West were
Ford and Erin, plus more she couldn’t quite see.

Standing with her. Standing
for
her.

“
I’m just doing my job.”
Charlotte’s gaze slid sideways searching for backup from her
cameraman, but her co-worker had abandoned her, trotting along the
beach toward another group of whales. She hugged the microphone
close to her chest and edged away.

Glenna strode forward, a warrior
queen resplendent in sand-covered shorts and a jaunty bandana tied
around her forehead. “Young lady, I’m proud of my daughter and your
mean-spiritedness isn’t welcome.”

Her mother’s voice was regal, but
Piper didn’t miss the cutting edge below the polite.

Glenna clicked her fingers in
dismissal as Charlotte turned to flee. “Run along now dear. I think
you’re better suited to covering flower shows and squabbling
politicians.”

“
Now that snooty cow’s been put in
her place, back to work people,” Erin said as Charlotte
speed-walked to her cameraman, her floaty and ridiculous skirt
whipping around her legs.

West dropped his hands from her
arms and her whole body felt bereft and cold without his quiet
strength keeping her upright.

Eyes sad below the cheery red
bandana, Glenna said, “Family meeting later—you too, West, since
your guilty expression tells me Piper’s little bombshell was no
surprise.”

“
Police
diver
. Bloody
hell.” Ben tapped her arm with his fist and limped away.

“
Mum…” Piper reached out a
hand.

Glenna grabbed it and squeezed. “I
meant what I said. I am proud of you, though I expect an
explanation once we get these beasties back in the
water.”

West handed her an empty bucket
after her mother bustled off. “You okay?”

She nodded without making eye
contact and headed down to the water. Small waves bubbled over her
toes, doing little to cool the heat scorching her face. A heat not
caused by the sting of sunburn. Piper blinked to keep the tears at
bay.

They stuck up for her—Ford and
Erin, West and her mother, and even Ben. She’d somehow become one
of their own again and her sense of alienation remained only as a
reflection of her insecurities.

It touched her
unbearably.

Piper filled the bucket. But what
should she do about it? She’d carved out a life for herself in
Wellington, earning the respect of her colleagues and considering
herself settled. Settled, huh? Then how come a short time on the
island had undermined everything?

It wasn’t just coming home that
rocked her foundations. Oh, no.

It was West. West had revealed the
unpalatable truth.

He’d gotten to her again. Big
time.

Piper started back up the beach.
He wielded a spade, sand flying as he dug around the whale’s body,
calling orders to the other volunteers with humor and an easy tone.
Taking charge of his little corner of the world, but in a way each
person felt part of his team and strove to give their best. West
stopped digging long enough to tug the hem of his shirt up to wipe
his brow, exposing the hard planes of his stomach. He winked when
he turned his head and caught her staring.

She’d never been shot on
duty—never stabbed while wearing her protective vest—yet one
glimpse of West’s smile as he continued watching her punched with
brutal force into her chest. Much like she imagined the slam of
bullets would feel. Her heart kicked into a harsh, uneven rhythm
and her shaking fingers slipped on the bucket’s handle.

Oh, dear God. Dead woman
walking.

Could she really be strong enough
to leave him a second time?

Chapter 14

Somewhere in
the blue-green ocean heading away from Stewart Island swam five
lucky-to-be-alive pilot whales, refloated on the tide by weary, yet
jubilant, volunteers.

The joy of saving five of the
twenty-six whales had drained away to sheer exhaustion and Piper
slumped at her mother’s kitchen table, her forehead pressed to the
cool wood. Shaye and Ben encircled her, while West helped Glenna
carry over cans of soda from the fridge.

“
West, there’s some aloe gel in
the top cabinet. Could you fetch it for Piper—the back of her
neck’s awfully pink,” her mother said.

A cabinet door opened and clicked
closed again. Piper kept her eyes shut. “Touch my lobster-fried
body and I’ll rip your face off.”