Love Inspired Suspense December 2015, Box Set 2 of 2 (12 page)

Jake squeezed Rachel's hand. “That's okay. Brad said something about giving me a tour when we talked earlier.” He looked right at the owner. “Maybe you have some time tomorrow.”

“Sure. I'd been thinking about it since we talked earlier. How about eleven thirty?”

“That's good.” Jake filled his plate with potato casserole, green beans with almond slices, mandarin pasta salad and bread. To Rachel he asked, “Do you think carrying two big plates might be uncouth?”

Rachel nodded her head toward Brad. “You'll be in good company.”

By the time they sat at the table Aunt Linda had saved for them, Rachel's stomach was rumbling loud enough that Jake chuckled. “You should have gotten a second plate.”

She grinned at him. “That's okay. I'll go back for seconds, then you and I need to dance the calories off afterward.”

“Weren't you listening? My ability to dance hasn't improved one bit from high school.”

“It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out how to slow dance. You just rock back and forth to the music.”

“If he doesn't, Rachel, I would be glad to,” Gramps said as he cut a big piece of the prime rib and slid it into his mouth.

But hours later as the crowd dwindled to half the guests, Jake came up behind her chair, bent over and murmured, “If you still want to dance, I will.”

She turned her head and peered over her shoulder, Jake's mouth inches from hers. She leaned back, her pulse racing. “You don't have to.”

“No way am I going to let my grandfather put me to shame. Look at him dance.” Jake gestured toward Lawrence and Aunt Linda on the floor with the other couples. “I must have inherited some of his genes.” He held out his hand for her.

She took it and rose, and ten seconds later he whisked her into his arms and swept her out into the middle of the other dancers. “I thought you didn't know how to.”

“I don't, but I've been watching. I'm a quick study.”

When he suddenly dipped her and twirled her around, she stopped. “Who have you been watching?”

“Gramps, who else?”

“You might follow someone younger.”

His forehead crunched, and he scanned the couples around them. “Oh, you mean like this.” He dropped her hand he held out straight and clasped his arms around her middle, slowed his pace and began swaying. “Is this better?”

“Much,” she said as she laid her head on his shoulder, the day's activities catching up with her, her heartbeat thumping against her rib cage. But in the midst of her possible assailants, she felt safe with Jake.

With his scent swirling around her, she closed her eyes, imagining them alone—no drug smugglers, attempts on their lives or a murder victim. If only it were that way.

* * *

As Rachel stared out the window on the passenger's side of her Jeep, she wanted to dwell on last night when, for a short time, she could believe all was well with her world. But all she had to do was look at Jake's scrapes and bruises on his face to know otherwise.

Jake pulled in front of the fishery's headquarters and parked. Rachel turned toward him. The next couple of days would be the best chance to catch the drug smugglers as they sent out their last shipments of the year—at least they hoped they would. After the holidays, Jake would be gone, and she hated the idea of going to work and wondering who to trust at the fishery—or in town, for that matter. If Brad's silent partner in Seattle was behind this, the blow to Port Aurora could be devastating. But the town's revival shouldn't be from illegal activities.

“Remember, go about your duties and no more snooping. Gramps, Chance and I will take care of that. Okay?”

“Yes, I have a lot to do today. The checks go out two days early, but no one remembers to send me the paperwork I need. Also, since this is the end of the year, there's a lot to do with the books, information to track down.” She started to get out, stopped and glanced at Jake, taking in his face she'd known for years but seeing so much more there than when they had been teenagers. “By the way, I poked around in the accounts and can't find any unusual amounts coming in or going out.”

“Probably a second set of books to keep this from you.”

She smiled, watching his expression, set in determination as if his mind was already on the task of catching the drug smugglers. “Be careful. I don't want to have to worry about you.”

As she turned away, Jake clasped her arm and tugged her back to him. He laid his lips over hers and drew her as close to him as he could with a console in between them. The sensations she'd been trying to suppress came to the foreground. No other man ever made her feel as Jake did.

When he pulled back, he cupped her face, and his gaze locked with hers. “And I don't want to have to worry about you. We're gonna talk when things are settled down in Port Aurora.”

The intensity in his voice sent flutters through her stomach. “About what?”

“Us.”

“About being friends?”

“No, we're past that. I'm not sure where we're headed, but I know I care more for you than just a friend.”

“You're right, this is different. We aren't the two teenagers who hung out together and were best friends.” She ran her finger across his lips, wishing they weren't sitting in the parking lot of the fishery. “I guess I'd better go to work.” Although at the moment she didn't want to leave the car.

“Stay safe.”

“I intend to. Only my duties, no extracurricular activities. I feel better with Chance O'Malley coming in this morning.”

“Yeah, while we're at the airport, we're going to take a look around. We'll have to be quick so I can go on that tour with Brad.”

She opened the door. “Come see me after the tour. Maybe we can catch a late lunch.”

“Sounds good.”

The grin that spread across his face radiated charm, making her want to stay, to be with him, to discover everything that happened to him during their eight-year separation. When she was inside the building, she had a bounce to her step as she walked to her office. Then she spied the work on her desk, and reality came crashing down.

She hung her parka on the peg behind the door and locked her purse in her bottom drawer, then sat. All she wanted to do was think about Jake's kiss and the fact he wanted to talk about their relationship, but the ringing of the phone jolted her back to the present, and she answered it.

“This is Mrs. Cohen. I received a call from Captain Martin. He had an emergency and won't be able to run the time cards to you this morning. He said just go on his boat and into his cabin. They're on the table by his bunk.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“He's taking his wife to the doctor. She was up all night sick.” Even over the phone, Eva Cohen's formality and strict discipline came across in her tone.

“I will. Thanks for letting me know.”

Brad's secretary hung up without saying goodbye or giving Rachel a chance to.

Before leaving for the harbor, she checked all the necessary paperwork she needed from each boat and wrote the few names of the ones who still hadn't sent theirs. She might as well go by each one and pick up what she needed if the captain was there. This was one of her biggest headaches—getting what she needed to do her job, especially with the growth in the number of boats the fishery utilized.

After bundling up because the wind was strong coming off the bay, Rachel strolled to the pier. Dawn was sneaking into the night sky with a few splashes of yellow and rose to the east. She hadn't heard if a storm was brewing out in the Bering Sea. That body of water could be treacherous, especially in the winter months, even without bad weather.

Her first stop was the Tundra King. She rang the bell the captain had posted on the dock to signal someone wanted to come aboard. When no one appeared on deck, she was tempted to climb onto the boat and take a look around. Then she remembered her promise to Jake and clanged the clapper against the bronze with more force.

She'd come by at the end and see if anyone was on the boat by then. She turned to leave when Captain Kirk Cohen came out of the wheelhouse.

“Sorry. I saw you and knew what you wanted. Here are the time sheets and catch info.” The captain walked along the side of the trawler until he reached where she was on the dock and handed her the papers.

She nearly lost them in the exchange as the wind whipped between vessels. “Thanks.”

As she left, she nodded toward Beau Cohen and another member of the Tundra King's crew as they passed her on the dock to hop on board. Before disappearing inside the boat, Beau winked at her, the gesture startling her. What was he up to?

She visited three more trawlers before she arrived at the Sundance, her last stop before returning to the warmth of her office. She went on board and made her way to the captain's quarters on the deck level. His cabin was to the fore and through the galley and salon for the crew while at sea.

She knocked on the closed door in case Captain Martin was able to return to the boat earlier than he anticipated. When no one answered, she eased it open and stepped into his quarters with a view of the harbor out the bank of windows. The choppy water rocked the ninety-foot boat. The fishermen were used to walking in rough seas. She wasn't. The papers she needed were right where Mrs. Cohen said they were. She walked from one piece of furniture to the next, scooped up the manila envelope with her name on it and started back toward the door.

Standing just inside, Beau and Captain Martin blocked her only means of escape. Danger emanated from both men from their clenched fists to their scowling faces.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
n the reception area of the small building attached to a hangar at the Port Aurora Airport, Jake waited while Chance's plane landed. He was thankful it was able to land since the crosswinds were getting stronger. The twin-engine Cessna fought them and made it—barely. Jake released a long-held breath as the door opened and his friend exited.

Jake, with Mitch on a leash by his side, left the building to meet the state trooper partway. They shook hands, then hurried inside, stomping the snow off their boots.

“Glad you're here.” Jake closed the door.

“I wasn't sure we were going to land. It was shaky, and I'm used to going to out-of-the-way places in Alaska.” Chance leaned over and petted Mitch. “He's looking great. Retirement agrees with him.” Chance slid Jake an assessing look. “How are you doing?”

“I'm managing. Although this trip back home hasn't been what I thought it would be.” Jake pointed at his single duffel bag. “Any other luggage?”

“Nope. I brought only what was necessary.”

Jake went to the counter, leaning against it. “Will you let us know if any planes will land or take off tomorrow? My friend, Chance O'Malley, may have to go back to Anchorage earlier than planned.” He slipped her a card with his cell and the bed-and-breakfast's number.

The woman behind the counter smiled. “Yes. There's one scheduled tomorrow at ten, weather permitting. Mostly flying in supplies and taking a big shipment from the fishery, but he might be able to tag along as a passenger. There is another flight right before sundown, too, if he needs to leave later.”

“How about Wednesday?”

“The same schedule as Tuesday.”

“Thanks, Toni.” Jake smiled at the lady, then headed for the door. “Let's go, Chance.”

Outside, Jake quickened his pace to the Jeep parked at the side of the building. When they were both inside, he angled toward his friend. “I went to school with Toni, who runs this airport with her husband. I had no trouble looking around before you arrived. No shipments for the fishery in the hangar. The flight you were on is the only one today. It isn't taking back much cargo except letters and packages, although it did bring in the mail and some supplies for the general store. I think the drugs will be shipped tomorrow or Wednesday.”

“How about by boat?”

“Gramps has paid the harbormaster a visit. They're friends. He thought he would play some dominoes with Charlie. They usually end up doing more talking than making moves.” Jake drove toward town.

“So we're going to the harbor?”

“No, I'm taking you to the bed-and-breakfast. Your room has a great view of the buildings and the harbor. I thought we could use it for surveillance purposes. The owner of Port Aurora Fishery is giving me a tour at eleven thirty. I want to see what's going on in the shipping warehouse. I think the drugs are probably going from the boats to there.” Jake withdrew a diagram of the harbor and buildings and handed it to Chance. “Then I'll be back, and we all can have lunch and talk strategy.”

“Sounds good. I might take a walk to familiarize myself with the town.”

“I should be back around one, and you'll get to meet my friend, Rachel.”

“The lady that started all of this?”

Jake laughed. “Yep. Gramps is supposed to head here when he's through pumping his friend for information.”

Jake left Chance at the bed-and-breakfast and hurried across the street and toward the harbor. He was to meet Brad at his office. Inside, he decided to stop by Rachel's first and tell her Chance made it.

As he approached the open door, he remembered the night before. She felt right in his arms as they slow danced. For a while all he thought about was her—not the drugs, attempts on them or Betty's murder. Then at the end, when everyone lit a candle and the lights went out in the hall, he held her hand as they sang “Silent Night.” In that moment he missed being home. He missed being with Rachel more. His life in Anchorage wouldn't be the same unless he could persuade Rachel to move there.

When he stepped into the doorway, he opened his mouth to say hi, but the empty office mocked him. Where was she? He walked in and looked around. Her coat was gone. For a few seconds concern nibbled at him. Then he remembered all she said she had to do.

He wrote her a brief note about lunch and stuck it on her computer screen, then went in search of Brad.

When he met Mrs. Cohen, Brad's secretary, he immediately understood Rachel's misgivings about the woman. An iceberg might be warmer than that lady. She stood when he came in and looked at him out the lower part of her glasses. He didn't let her demeanor stop him from saying, “I'm here to see Mr. Howard.”

“Does he have an appointment with you?”

“Yes, eleven thirty. Jake Nichols.” Mitch, standing beside him, made a low growl. Jake stroked him, but his dog remained tense though quiet.

A brief frown descended, directed at Mitch, before she replaced it with her haughty look. “I'll let him know.”

He decided to rattle her. “That's okay. I can.” With Mitch next to him, Jake strode toward the door and thrust it open.

Mrs. Cohen charged past him into Brad's office. “I—I... He says he has an appointment with you, but I don't have it down.”

Brad waved his hand. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you. We made it last night at the party.”

She heaved a deep breath, then spun on her heel and left.

Jake started to make a comment, but Brad held his palm up and he mouthed the word, “Wait.”

Brad pushed back his chair and said, “I'm eager to show you all that has been done this year,” then grabbed his overcoat and shrugged into it. “We'll start with the plans I have for an additional processing center.”

Jake wanted to steer him to shipping, but if Brad was involved in the drug smuggling, he didn't want to be too obvious. It bothered him that a friend he'd known as a child could be caught up in the illegal activities, but Brad had always had rich tastes, so it really wouldn't surprise him if he was having financial problems.

When Jake reached the hall, remnants of the Christmas party had been cleaned up, except the tables and chairs. “If I didn't know better, I wouldn't believe such a wonderful celebration went on last night in this place.”

“That's Celeste. She put it on and made sure it was taken care of this morning. She loves doing stuff like that.” He swept his arm to indicate the large area. “Some men are going to come in late this afternoon and remove the tables and chairs, and then this will be one big empty room. Celeste is a great organizer.”

As Brad talked about Celeste, his comments didn't bother Jake. His feelings for Celeste were gone. During the party as he watched her move among the guests, decked out in an expensive red dress, not a hair out of place, he realized her leaving him before they were to be married was the best thing in the long run. He'd been dazzled by her beauty, and although she was gracious and kind to the townspeople, she always held herself apart as though she were playing a role. He didn't think he'd really known the person behind the facade.

Whereas with Rachel, he used to be able to predict her next move. She knew him better than even Gramps when they were growing up. Everything she was thinking was right there in the open. No guessing. A person knew where he stood with Rachel.

“Everyone enjoyed themselves, and the prime rib was a big hit.” Jake also didn't hold a grudge against Brad because he moved in on Celeste when she was engaged. Letting go of the anger freed him. Now he understood what Gramps and Rachel had said about forgiveness. Being mad at Brad and Celeste really only hurt him in the long run. He was the one who stayed away from Port Aurora and let any relationship he had with Rachel dwindle to almost nothing.

Brad stopped in the middle of the cavernous room and slowly rotated all the way around. “I need to talk to you without people seeing or listening.”

His hushed tones drew Jake's full attention and Brad's action, rubbing his palms together, looking from side to side, held Jake's concentration. He slipped his hand into his parka and grasped his gun. Had Brad lured him here to kill him? Every nerve ending sharpened its awareness.

Finally, as though satisfied they were alone, Brad stepped closer and expelled a deep breath. “Some strange things have been going on at the fishery. I think Ivan is doing something illegal behind my back. On Sunday I was going to go into shipping and do some checking, but the lock had been changed. I didn't authorize that.”

“Did you ask him about the new lock?” Jake held up his hand for a few seconds while he stuck his other hand into the top shirt pocket and showed Brad he was recording their conversation using his cell phone.

Brad gave him a slight nod. “Yes. He said he just did it and had forgotten to tell me. He would have a new key for me this week.”

“What was wrong with the old one?”

“Nothing. But it was old and could be picked easily according to Ivan.”

“Is that true?”

Brad combed his fingers through his hair. “I guess so. Up until Betty's murder, serious crimes didn't happen in Port Aurora. I suppose I've let security go lax because our town has been relatively untouched by crime, especially in the winter months.” He sighed. “But with the expansion, more people are coming to Port Aurora, and crime is increasing.”

Was Brad playing him? Was he really innocent of the drug smuggling? “What do you think is going on?”

“It's got to be some kind of smuggling. Maybe drugs. I don't know. I've looked at Rachel's accounting, and everything seems on the up and up, but have you ever had a gut feeling something is wrong and it is?”

“Yes. I've learned to trust my gut. Who do you think is working with Ivan? If he's smuggling something in, he has to have coconspirators. Where is he getting the drugs from, if it is drugs?”

“That's why I'm talking to you. I don't know. There are parts of this fishery I don't have access to. I'm the owner. I've always gone freely anywhere around my company. Now doors are locked in buildings and to buildings.”

“What doors in which buildings?”

“I went into shipping this morning to talk to Ivan, and then I walked around. One freezer was locked and a small storage room.”

“What did Ivan say about that?” Jake asked, studying Brad for any signs of lying.

“Nothing. I couldn't find him.”

Still not sure if he could trust Brad, Jake asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“You're a police officer.”

“Not here in town.”

“Okay, I don't know if I can trust ours. Ivan and Officer Steve Bates are good friends. I've seen them hanging out together at night.”

Jake thought back to Friday night and recalled seeing Bates come into the Harbor Bar and Grill and sit at the bar. Ivan sat next to him for part of the night before the officer left. They talked occasionally during that time but also to others. That fit with what Betty said to Rachel about not trusting anyone.

“What do you want to do?” Jake wasn't going to say anything about a state police officer staying at the bed-and-breakfast until he felt Brad wasn't playing him.

“Contact some people you trust. I'll give them permission to search the whole fishery. If there isn't a problem, then I've overreacted, but I'll be relieved that the company is doing only legal business.”

“Let's go, then.” Jake started for the exit.

The sound of a shot cracked the air.

* * *

Rachel gulped and backed up against the table. As she gripped its edge, strength flowed from her legs, but somehow she managed to keep herself upright as Beau came toward her and Captain Martin shut the door.

She fought the fear attacking every part of her. Beau was muscular and huge.
Is he the one who hit Aunt Betty so hard she died?
Trembling followed the fear and encompassed her whole body.

Beau gripped her upper arms and jerked her toward the bunk nearby. After he shoved her down, he took out a rope and yanked her hands together, then bound them in front of her. When he produced a second length of rough twine, he knelt, removed her boots and tied her ankles together so tight she didn't think blood would circulate to her feet.

“Too bad you had to be so nosy. Now we have a mess to clean up,” Captain Martin said, still standing by the exit.

“I came in to get the payroll papers,” she said in a quavering voice. “As Mrs. Cohen told me.”

“Don't take us for fools.” Beau stepped back from the bunk.

“Just ask her.”

“I know she did because I told her to. It's all the other snooping you've been doing.” Captain Martin glared at her.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“Why, kill you, my dear. Didn't you get the message that snoops end up dead like Betty?” The captain shook his head and put his hand on the door handle. “You don't cross the Russian mafia.”

As Captain Martin left, Rachel peered at Beau. “I don't know anything.”

“We know a state trooper flew in this morning. That ain't a coincidence.”

“I don't know a state trooper.”

Beau backed away from the bunk, his cackles sending goose bumps down her body. “You might not but your boyfriend does. Don't worry, he'll get his due soon enough.”

“You don't need to kill me. Use me as a hostage.”

His hideous laughter filled the cabin. “We don't need you. When the rest of the crew is here, we're putting out to sea. When we're far enough out, I'm going to kill you, then dump your body over. The current will take you where no one will find you. Frankly, after the fish take care of you, you won't be recognizable. You know it might be fun just to toss you into the water alive and let nature take its course.”

As Beau turned toward the door, Rachel sent a prayer to God.
I need Your help
.
Anything is possible through You
. There was still time that Jake could save her.