Severed Threads (38 page)

“
We
are
?”

He took her face in his hands, framing it so that he could look into her eyes. “I’m not about to risk any chance of losing you…not again.”

They shared a deep drowning gaze and a kiss that turned her knees to rubber. When they separated, the secret was searing her brain.

“
There’s something else,” she said.

“
Oh, yeah…your brother. You should probably check on him.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

Rachel ran through her list of thirty-plus messages. There was still no word from Devon.

“
No luck?” Chase asked.

She shook her head.

“
How about the Crow’s Nest? I know it’s a last resort, but he might have gone there.”

Rachel doubted the idea, but after a brief exchange on the phone, she was quick to admit her mistake. “Turns out you were right. Naomi said Devon was there for a couple hours. He stuck around long enough to make a few calls. Then he took off in a hurry. There’s no telling where he might be.”

“
Your brother sure isn’t making this easy.”

“
No, he isn’t.” Stress from the past few hours came crashing down on her. She ran a hand through her hair and heaved a weary sigh. Chase smoothed his thumb against the tired lines under her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed tight.

“
Let’s get out of here. We’ll have better luck finding Devon in the morning.” He reached down and picked up her duffle bag, adding speed to her racing heart. He led the way to the lobby and was instructing her to wait while he retrieved his truck when a voice called out.

“
Rachel!” Wade was standing next to Judi, looking particularly annoyed. “I’ve been all over this hospital looking for you. If you didn’t turn up soon, I was going to call security.”

Chase sniffed a laugh. “When did you become her bodyguard?”

“
Since she nearly died.” Wade’s direful words hung in the air.

“
Go on,” Chase coaxed.

Wade leaned in closer. “Tried my best to keep an eye on her like you asked. But after the pirates stole onto our ship, she went over the side with the worst one of them. Ended up witnessing a shark attack and almost getting killed herself before we pulled her out.”

“
Wow!” came from Judi. “It’s amazing you survived.”

Rachel’s close call hadn’t seemed real to her – not at the time. She glanced away as the image of Viktor’s body being torn apart replayed in her mind. Although she preferred to keep her experience buried for the rest of her life, the gruesome scene would be forever ingrained in her memories.

“
They were after Mai Le’s treasure,” Wade continued. “Haven’t got a clue how they found out about it, but they were sure we had it on board.”

Chase’s anger was visibly apparent. “I want you back aboard as soon as possible. Here’s the key for the Zodiac. Use the spotlight if you need it. Just make sure you get there in one piece. I’ll try calling A.J. again. If he doesn’t show up at the dock in fifteen minutes, head back anyway. I’ll rent a skiff and bring him back with me first thing in the morning.”

“
What about Rachel?” Wade asked, as though she wasn’t there. “The guy who got away knows she can identify him.”

“
I’ll look after her.”

The scowl on Wade’s face told her that he wasn’t pleased with this arrangement. “Personally, I think you should call the police. Rachel should have some kind of protection. Someone with her at all times.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed, his lips thinned. “She’s got me.”

Thirty-Two

Rachel hesitated before climbing into the cab of Chase’s truck. She watched him slam the heavy door and circle the grill before seating himself beside her. As they drove across town, she answered his questions, telling him as much as she could remember about her harrowing experiences and brief encounter with Gabe Pollero.

“
Just wish I’d known,” he said before becoming uncomfortably quiet.

After ten minutes, they turned into Hillcrest, an older residential area lined with 1940’s bungalows and converted condos. They veered left and passed a corner drug store before turning right on Cobbler Way. The street was buzzing with activity. Rachel stared through the passenger window at Chase’s neighbors collecting mail, turning on lights, walking dogs on the winding sidewalk. Nothing seemed odd or out of the ordinary. But retelling her story had set off a mental warning. She couldn’t dismiss the nagging feeling that Marcos was close by, watching their every move.

Chase’s truck skirted the side walls of two buildings. As they slowed down, nearing his driveway entrance, a sports car pulled out of with the narrow alleyway leading to the street and passed them going the opposite direction. The tinted windows made it impossible to see the driver, but there was no doubt in Rachel’s mind…it was a candy apple Lamborghini. Just like the one in the warehouse photograph. The one in Pollero’s office.

“
Did you see that car?” she asked.

“
Where?”

“
The red one that just went by.”

Chase glanced in his rearview mirror, catching its taillights before it sped away. “Nice.”

“
Gabe Pollero had a car like that.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s gone. Isn’t that what you said?”

“
I know…but how do you explain – ”

“
This is California, sweetheart. Exotic cars are all over the place. Just because one looks like his, doesn’t mean it is.”

Although her first instinct was to climb out of the cab and storm away, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Chase’s condescending tone had obviously risen from his lack of sleep. She deserved a degree of impatience on his part, even though her own was being duly tested. She slammed the truck door and trudged after him through the maze of inside hallways leading to his apartment. She waited behind him while he unlocked his front door.

"Maid’s day off,” he said. “No complaints, okay?" He stepped aside, opening himself up for silent ridicule. "There’s a couch in the living room, if you want to lie down. Just need to make a few calls then I’ll fix us something to eat. You want anything to drink?"

Rachel shook her head. She watched him disappear behind the wall in the adjacent kitchen. To her left, in the makeshift dining room, she couldn’t help noticing crayon drawings taped to the wall above the folding card table. There were sailboats, sparkling treasure chests and pirates wielding swords. Assorted artistic renderings in a spectrum of colors.

"Nice pictures," she called out.

"Allie’s. Claims she’s going to be a sea captain like her old man one day."

“
With no influence from you.”

“
Course not.”

When she heard Chase’s muffled voice on the phone in the kitchen, she stepped down into his sunken living room and took advantage of the opportunity to inspect his simple abode. Her gaze brushed the cream textured walls and traveled to the brass chandelier in the center of the room. It hung slightly off kilter, just begging to be touched. She crossed the oak-veneered floor, reached up and tugged on the chain, attempting to right the fixture. But it swung right back into place, more catawampus than before.

She rolled her eyes and shifted her attention to Chase’s odd assortment of knickknacks and worn, used furnishings. She’d never seen such an eclectic ensemble: painted decoy ducks, fishing reels, two mismatched winged-back chairs and an oversized flat, slatted trunk for a makeshift coffee table. Even a bent willow rocker with a blue plaid throw positioned before the slate fireplace. Hobo Americana at its best. Although his acquisitions resembled bargain basement items, there was something remarkably charming about their multiversity.

She kicked aside a well-chewed tennis ball and remembered Yuki – the white furry mop she’d met during her visit with Naomi. She waited until Chase’s voice grew quiet then asked, "So is Ian taking care of your dog?"

The faucet in the kitchen shut off. "We sorta share him," Chase called back. "I found him wandering around the docks with no collar, all skin and bones. Gave him some scraps. Next thing I knew, he was living here part-time."

Rachel continued her dual mission – milling about, prying into his life. She relocated his denim shirt and sat down in the middle of the brown lumpy couch. A nautical map was anchored to the top of the trunk with a SPC coffee mug, books and a glass starfish paperweight.

“
Are you charting the course to another ship?” she asked.

She leaned forward and was in the midst of further investigating when Chase suddenly appeared–shirtless with a blue dishtowel draped over one shoulder. Her gaze slid down his ripped abs to the top of his low-slung jeans. She could feel his eyes on her, adding heat to the room. Instead of meeting his stare, she looked back at the map.

"Here, let me get rid of that." He confiscated the ocean blueprint and stowed it on top of the walnut wardrobe chest resting against the wall. He collected the crushed Domino’s pizza box from the floor and snagged his discarded shirt from the top of the sofa. After briefly disappearing down the short hallway, he resumed housekeeping chores – gathering newspapers, collecting empty beer bottles and returning books to the bookcase. The chime from the microwave timer pulled him back into the kitchen. He quickly returned with two steaming bowls of clam chowder and a bottle of beer tucked under his arm.

Rachel took the bowls from his hands and set them on the table before her. She slid over to the next cushion, allowing him room on the sofa. But he stayed on his feet. He took a swig from his bottle and stepped next to the window. Above the neighboring rooftops, the night sky was ablaze with fiery red and brilliant orange, reflecting on the simmering ocean.

"
Stargazer’s
safe for the time being,” he assured her. “But with all that gold in her hull, I regret not bringing her home.” He turned back and caught her idly stirring her soup. A look of concern furrowed his brow.

“
Guess my cooking’s not that great, huh?” he asked. “Campbell’s soup, TV dinners and peanut butter sandwiches. That’s the extent of my culinary skills.”

“
It’s fine, really.” She took a mouthful and hummed her approval.

“
A guy on the second floor gave me a cookbook after smelling the macaroni and cheese I burned. Haven’t cracked the cover yet. Just don’t see the need when you’re cooking for one…at least until Allie comes home.” Chase ran his hand over his jaw. “You sure I can’t get you something to drink? I’ve got a bottle of white wine open, if you’d like."

She looked up from her bowl. "Maybe a small glass…as long as it doesn’t come with scotch."

“Right.” The reference brought a smile. He returned from the kitchen with a half-filled wine glass. “The woman next door gave it to me for letting her borrow my truck. Said something about having a lot of points…whatever that means.”

Rachel took a generous sip and smiled. “That was nice of her.”

“No threat, I assure you. Virginia’s eighty-two. She’s had four husbands and I don’t think she’s looking for number five. At least not in this neighborhood.” He walked to the corner of the room smiling then bent down and turned the gas fireplace key on the floor. With the strike of a match, the fireplace erupted in amber flames. “There’s a blanket on the chair if you get cold.”

His nervousness was perplexing. Totally uncharacteristic of the man she knew. But then she’d never been in his new apartment and social skills had never been his strong suit.

“
Stop worrying about me,” she said. “I’m all right, honest. Come sit down and finish this nice soup before it gets cold.”

His mind seemed to be elsewhere. He dropped into the winged-back chair across from her and hung one leg over its arm. He took another pull on his beer and continued to watch her eat until her bowl was nearly empty.