Stranded (17 page)

“What were you doing?”

“She made a call as I left, and I was trying to hear the conversation.”

Yes, he was right—trouble. “And . . .”

“Couldn't hear a word, but she sounded upset.”

“Darc, we need to get going. I'm going to be late for the meeting.”

She nodded and strode ahead of him into the hallway.

“So did she give the go-ahead to look through Abby's things?”

“No, she—”

“Darcy.”

They turned as Clint approached.

Of course
.

“How are you feeling?” Clint asked, wedging himself between Gage and Darcy.

“Much better.”

“Glad to hear it. Hey, Mullins just called and said you wanted to focus on the excursion crew's perspective.”

Darcy's eyes widened a bit. Mullins must have been talking to Clint.

She glanced back over her shoulder at Mullins' office. “Mullins called you?”

“Yeah. Said you'd just been to see her, and when we had time, she thought it'd be helpful if George, Ted, and I sat down with you.”

“Wow, that was fast.”

“Well, I think it's a great idea to get not only the passengers' perspectives but the excursion crew's as well. And it just so happens we're all available for the next half hour.” He held out his arm. “So, shall we?”

She cast her gaze at Gage.

“Darcy was just about to accompany me to the excursion meeting,” he said.

Clint wrapped his arm around Darcy's shoulder. “I'm sure you can catch her up on the details later.”

Gage took a step toward Clint. “And I'm sure there'll be another time for Darcy to meet with you all.”

“Mullins said
now
. If you want to go hash this out with her”—he gestured toward her office—“feel free.”

“It's fine,” Darcy said, her gaze fastening on Gage. “Apparently Mullins thinks this is more important right now. I'll catch up with you after the meeting. Okay?”

Gage gritted his teeth. No, it was not okay. He didn't like it one bit. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

If he caused a scene, it'd only draw more attention to her—and that was the last thing she wanted.

“All right. Where will you be? I'll come find you after the excursion meeting.”

“I told Ted and George to meet us in the Kodiak Café,” Clint said.

“Great.” A public place. Lots of people. That made him feel a little better. “I'll see you there.”

She nodded. “See you there.”

His hands balled into fists as he watched Clint lead her away.

Kayden shifted restlessly on the express ferry carrying her and Jake, along with the excursion gear, from Eagle Cove to Dutch Harbor. They'd left the marina before dawn and weren't due to arrive in Dutch Harbor until five tomorrow morning—just ahead of the
Bering
. Piper had opted to stay another night in Eagle Cove with Landon and would be traveling by floatplane early tomorrow to meet up with them in Dutch Harbor when the
Bering
docked. While it was understandable that Piper wanted to be with Landon, it had left Kayden alone with Jake,
again
.

What had been an uncomfortable situation before now felt nearly unbearable for completely different reasons. There was so much she wanted to say, wanted to ask, but she had no right. Not after how horribly she'd treated him—how she'd doubted and assumed the worst. She felt like a heel, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Why couldn't she have been trusting like Piper? Like
any
of her siblings?

She shifted on the crate she was using as a stool and watched Jake standing at the stern. The waves were turbulent in the ferry's wake, spitting white foam. The dying rays of the sun
emblazoned in rose hues across the twilight sky silhouetted his strong shoulders.

He wore his sorrow like a cloak. All these years she'd missed it, mistaken his anguish for hiding something shady. He'd been hiding something, but it was not even close to what she'd suspected.

His sorrow pierced her heart—a sensation she hadn't experienced in years, not since the death of her mom. She'd hardly thought it still possible to feel such deep heartache, and the fact that it was because of Jake blew her mind.

The stirring in her heart, in her soul, nudged her to go to him—to say something to try to ease his pain—but the stirring had it dead wrong, so wrong it was almost laughable.

Me provide comfort? Ha!
She wasn't the comforting type. That was Piper's thing. Kayden was the one her family called on when they needed strength, logic, or straightforwardness.

Straightforwardness
.

She glanced up at the heavens with a shake of her head.

I see what you're doing, but I'm not the one to help heal him. I'm a big part of what has hurt him.

I AM Jehovah Rophi. The-Lord-Who-Heals.

She balled her fists tight.
When you
want
to be.

She hopped down from the crate, the squawk of seabirds finally settling in the crisp coming-night air. She'd slip quietly away, leaving Jake to his peace—or more likely, his pain.

What would you have me do, Lord?

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”

You want me to comfort him . . . ? Me?

She felt Jake's gaze shift to her—she'd always been able to sense when he was watching. How could she possibly explain? How could he possibly understand why she was the way she was? And after she'd treated him so cruelly, why would he even care?

He excused himself, stepped into the back office, and answered the cell. “Yes?”

“The journalist found one of the gift-shop girls wearing the reporter's necklace.”

“And?”

“She was told people lose and find things on the ship all the time.”

“Did she buy it?”

Silence.

He balled his fists, resisting the urge to strike something. “If everything I've built crumbles because of some trinket . . .”

“It won't.”

“You're right there.”

“I gave her a warning, like you said.”

“I think we're far past warnings.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“What do you think?”

“Won't we be calling too much attention to ourselves if another one goes missing so soon?”

He fought to hide his rage. It would do no good to lose it with a promising client seated in the next room. “It wouldn't be too soon if you'd taken care of the reporter as I instructed the first time around.” He inhaled and released it slowly. “Trust me, a little attention is nothing compared to what will happen if we don't meet our quota. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then get it done.” He ended the call.

Imbeciles
. Every one of them. First they'd nearly botched silencing the reporter, but in the end, it'd played to his advantage. That's exactly what needed to happen now—his team needed to step up and see that things went to their advantage, or it'd be all their heads,
literally
.

He delivered. He
always
delivered. He'd worked too long and too hard to build his network. No nosy broad or weak underling was going to destroy it. Even if it meant he needed to get his hands dirty on this one.

Gage paced restlessly in his cabin.
Where is she?

He'd told her he'd find her at the Kodiak Café as soon as his meeting was finished, but had she waited for him? No, of course not. The waitress he'd frantically questioned upon not finding her there said she'd seen Darcy leave shortly after Clint and the other men had, but where she'd headed no one seemed to know.

He tried between his scheduled onboard activities to track her down without drawing massive attention to the urgency boiling inside.

The gift shop cashier said Darcy had dropped in to chat a bit, and one of the maids had passed her in the corridor not long before Gage had entered, but he'd been unable to put eyes on her. Finally he decided it was best to do what he'd instruct anyone else in his situation to do—go to where the person can find you.

So he'd returned to his cabin at eight o'clock and decided to give her until ten. If she didn't seek him out by then, he
was sounding the alarm, come what may. Darcy's safety was too important for him to ignore her absence.

What if someone was on to her? What if the same person who had gotten rid of Abby had done something to Darcy?

He glanced at the clock—nine o'clock. It had been the longest hour of his life. Could he really wait another hour? Was that even the right thing to do?

A light knock rapped on his door, and the death grip in his chest slackened.
Darcy's knock
.

He flung open the door, and a swell of relief swept through him. He yanked her inside and into his arms, kicking the door shut behind them.

“Hi,” she said, her voice muffled by his embrace. “My kind of welcome.”

As incredible as she felt, and as reluctant as he was to ever let her go, he did, alarmed frustration brimming to the surface. “What happened? You said you'd wait for me.”

“I know, and I'm so sorry. The guys only had a half hour before Clint had a massage scheduled, and Ted and George needed to help the stage crew with some structural issues they were having. I thought I'd just come to you, so I headed for your meeting, but Pam caught me in the corridor, asking about my fall. We started talking, and she started opening up, and I thought . . .”

“You might get another lead.”

“Yeah, and by then your meeting was over and I saw on the activities schedule you were pretty much booked the rest of the afternoon and evening, so I paid Celia another visit.”

“And did you learn anything more?”

“No.”

Everything she was saying, everything she'd done, was
logical, but didn't she realize how worried he'd been? Or didn't she care?

“I wish you'd at least stopped by the activities center and told me everything was fine—or left a message on my voice mail.” How pathetic did he sound? He hated everything about this situation, hated the danger she'd put herself in, hated her lack of concern for her own safety even more.

“You're right, I should have. I just . . .”

“You were thinking of the case.”

Her shoulders fell. “I just thought . . .”

“Don't worry about it. You're fine. So it all worked out.”

“Gage, I . . .” She stepped to him, taking his hand. “I hope you know how much I appreciate your help and concern.”

But the case came first. No doubt a story always would. He grabbed his soda and plunked down in a chair. “No sweat. So what did Mullins have to say about your looking through Abby's stuff?”

Darcy hesitated before sitting.

Just answer the question, Darcy. Don't make a big deal out of this
. They were obviously at different places, as usual.

“She said I couldn't because she'd already shipped them off.”

“Wow, that was efficient. So no opportunity there. Learn anything from Clint and the gang?”

“No. They pretty much gave me the party line—painted a grand picture of adventure for future passengers, but I did sense some tension between Clint and Ted.”

“Over what?”

“Nothing that I could pinpoint. Just an underlying current.” She shifted. “I don't know, Gage. It seems like that's how everything has been going—I catch on to the hint of a
clue and then it all breaks apart. Maybe this is all in my mind. Could I be imagining that Abby is in danger?”

“I don't know, Darc. As unconvinced as I was earlier, I think you are on to something here.” He wished he could think of something to give her hope. “So, did Abby's roommate say if there was anything strange in how Abby was acting before she disappeared?”

“No, she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. But I guess they rarely saw each other. She said—” Her eyes widened and she started pawing at her purse.

“Darcy, what's wrong?”

“I can't believe I forgot about it.” She pulled out a Gideon Bible. “It's probably nothing, but I should have remembered to check.”

She slowly fanned the pages, and about halfway in, she stopped and pulled out a folded square of white paper.

“Abby uses these index cards for taking notes.” She unfolded the paper—“this is her writing”—and scanned the card. “But this makes no sense.”

“Can I see it?” Taking the paper from her outstretched hand, he read,
“Head cheerleader at Baylor plus Bio I lab partner.”

Darcy finished paging through the Bible and rubbed her eyes. “Is it a message or just some random scribble?”

“Does it mean anything to you?”

“Well, the head cheerleader for most of our time at Baylor was Jessica Hardy—I'll never forget her. And Abby didn't take biology, so maybe she means my Bio I lab partner, who was Brad Matthews. But I don't have any idea what they would have to do with Abby's disappearance or smuggling.”

She shrugged, put the note and Bible back in her purse, and asked, “So how did your meeting go?”

“Fine.” Apparently she was on to the next topic. “A new couple joined tomorrow's excursion. The Benjamins. They participated in a couple excursions earlier in the cruise. They're on board for the full twenty-day cruise option from Seattle to Russia.”

“So they were on excursions with Abby?”

“Yes. Two, including Abby's last.”

“The day Abby was supposed to explain everything to me.”

“Right, and according to the Benjamins, Abby didn't seem herself.”

“See! I told you something was bothering her before she left. What did they say?”

“They said she was distracted, and Mrs. Benjamin thought she appeared somewhat frightened.”

“Did she say of whom or what?”

Gage shook his head. “No, but it unsettled Mrs. Benjamin, and when she heard Abby had left the
Bering
, it spooked her for a bit. Her husband said he was finally able to talk her into trying one more excursion.”

“So they'll be along tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“And will I be on that excursion?”