Suspicion At Sea (6 page)

“Wow, how is your sister doing?”

“She is coping. I spoke with her last night.” I really don't want to talk about this anymore because thinking about what Jade McGill has done to my sister just puts me in a bad mood.

“Do you need to be with her? I mean, you don't have to be playing tour guide with me,” she says. Crap, now how am I going to get out of this without looking like an insensitive asshole.

“No, no, no. She is out of town right now. There's nothing I can do right now anyway,” I tell her, and it is the truth even though Suzy is coming back this afternoon.

“Okay, if you're sure.” She studies my face.

“I'm sure, you are a very good distraction.” I smile and she blushes. It is fucking adorable when her cheeks turn pink. God, I love that I have that effect on her.

“The best way to see the island is by Jeep, unless you had your heart set on walking.” I'm hoping not because after my swim I really don't feel much like walking, although I won't admit it if she still wants to.

I have a storage unit not far from the dock where I keep my toys. One is an old Jeep Wrangler with no doors and no top. It's perfect in this kind of sunny weather.

“Jeep sounds fun.” We finish eating and grabbing our coffees, she goes to stand up.

I stand and rush around behind her to pull out her chair for her.

“Thank you.” She smiles at me shyly. Something tells me she's not used to this sort of thing.

Chapter 14

Ellie

“I heard Esther from the B&B talking about the Sheriff, his last name is Bennett. Any relation?” I ask Justin as we walk toward his storage unit.

“He's my dad, and I'm sure Esther wasn't saying anything nice about the Sheriff.” He turns his head toward me giving me a knowing look and making me laugh.

“No, in fact, she wasn't.” I forget just how small this island is. Everyone probably knows everyone.

“She's sweet, but a little...” He stops to choose his words and decides to make a hand gesture instead, swinging his finger around the side of his head, telling me she's cuckoo.

“I kind of picked up on that already,” I snicker. We reach the storage unit and he unlocks it. I watch his arm muscles ripple as he opens the heavy door. Inside is an old Jeep like he said, and what I am assuming is a motorcycle, at least that's what the tarp-covered object looks like. A large Dodge Ram, a jet ski on a trailer, and various other toys line the back, like a surfboard, skis, and other water related items.

“Boys and their toys,” he says, watching me, which is what I was just thinking.

He gets in the Jeep and backs it out while I stand off to the side.

“Are you ready?” he asks, getting out and, like a gentleman, offers his hand to help me up into the doorless Jeep. I sit in the seat and he puts his hands up, one resting on the roll bar the other on the windshield. His face is close to mine, when I turn to see what he is doing.

“What?” I ask as he stares at me, not moving from his position.

“You know so much about me, and I know nothing about you. What's your last name?” He watches me closely, and I feel like he's not going to move until I tell him.

“Marks,” I whisper, and a smile beams on his face. It's really cute how such a small detail can make him so happy.

Like a little boy, he puts his arms down and runs around the Jeep, getting in behind the wheel.

“You ready, Ellie Marks?” he asks, putting the old style Jeep with a stick shift in reverse. With a jerk of the vehicle he stretches his neck to see behind us and swings the Jeep around.

“Yep,” I say, turning my head away from his gorgeous face. This guy has me hook, line, and sinker.

Just as we pull out of the parking lot, I see a man sitting on a park bench. It's just for a moment, but I feel like he is watching us. Not only do I think he is watching us, but I think I've seen him before. He holds up a newspaper to cover his face when we make eye contact. I'm silent trying to place the man's face.

“You okay?” Justin glances from me to the road.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just had a very puzzled look on your face,” he says. He seems to read me so well, something I'm not used to. In fact, I've been accused of being too expressionless.

“Oh, did I?” I reply and he nods at me.

“Maybe you should be watching the road.” I point toward the front of the vehicle, but he still turns his head in my direction every few seconds.

“I just thought I saw someone I knew, but I can't place him,” I tell him to appease him so we do not crash. I wave my hand to brush it off, like I'm just seeing things.

“Where did you see him?” Justin's interest is piqued.

“On the park bench by the parking lot,” I answer. “It was nothing.” I'm being silly, always the FBI agent thinking someone is following me. I'm on vacation, in the middle of nowhere. I'm not on a case, nor have I been for over a year. Justin gives me a couple more good glances before he decides to drop it.

Justin takes us down the road that runs the coast, the wind whipping my hair around as I marvel at the beauty of this island.

“I can't believe you didn't love growing up here.” I remember his comment about paradise in hell.

“It wasn't the island, it was the people,” he clarifies. “I loved being in the water and spent a lot of time in it,” he speaks loudly over the wind, glancing at me periodically as he drives the curvy road that follows the shape of the land.

“Explains why you became a frogman.” I turn to his tattoo on his right arm that keeps catching my eye and I want to reach out to touch it so bad.

“Yeah, I guess. My mother used to swear I was born with gills,” he chuckles.

“She must be very proud.” I admire the way his face softens at the mention of his mother.

“I'm sure she would be, she died when I was eight,” he announces and his tone changes instantly, like he is trying to be emotionless but it's not working.

“I'm sorry, my parents are gone too.” I don't know why I say this. I guess I want him to know that I can relate.

He turns his head my way again, and reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. I look down at his strong hand on mine and my insides burn. I'm suddenly very mad that this old vehicle is a stick shift because he has to remove his hand to shift gears. I don't know if it's because the moment is over, but he keeps his hand resting on the gear shift after that.

We drive around and he points out different spots on the main side of the island. There are tiny little islands we can see, and he tells me which ones he swam to and explored when he was younger.

“This is a good beach to look for shells.” He pulls the Jeep to a stop in a small parking lot next to a small stretch of sand.

I didn't even think about shells. The thought excites me and I unbuckle, hopping out to run toward the beach.

Chapter 15

Justin

I watch from the Jeep as Ellie runs to the beach in excitement. I laugh out loud when she reaches the water's edge and scans the beach, her arms outstretched in frustration.

“There's no shells,” she yells toward me as I make my way down to her.

“You jumped out before I could finish. This a good beach for shells after the spring tide.” The look of disappointment on her face is endearing. I find myself wanting to bombard her with questions. I want to know about her parents, how they died, her job, where she's from, and so much more. However, I'm treading lightly and taking it slow with her because I have no Idea how long she will be here and where she will go when she leaves.

“Up there is a great view of the island.” I point to a grouping of rocks at the end of the beach.

“Well, let's go up there then,” she says, walking beside me.

“How long are you visiting for?” I chance a question.

“A few weeks,” she answers, and even though I'm glad it is not just a weekend trip, the thought of her only being around for a few weeks makes me sad.

“What do you do, you know, for work?”

“I work for the government,” she responds with the vaguest answer possible.

“What branch?” I question farther.

“Should I go first?” We've reached the rocks and she ignores my question entirely. I nod and she starts climbing the rocks. There are levels of stone so it's basically like taking big steps. I watch her for a moment and enjoy the view. “You joining me?” She looks down at me, and notices the big cheeky smile plastered on my face as I watch her fine ass. She rolls her eyes and keeps going.

It doesn't take me long to catch up with her and soon we are at the top. She shields her eyes from the sun with her hand as she scans the horizon.

“Wow, this is amazing,” she remarks with wonder.

“Yeah,” I mumble, looking at her and not the view.

“Is that the boat?” She points in the direction of the shipyard, and right there, still in the water, is The Sweet Suzy with yellow police tape roping it off.

“Yep.”

“Why would they let it sit out in the elements, any evidence would be tainted? Not to mention, anyone could board it,” she questions, turning to me for answers.

“I don't know for sure, but I heard there is a crack in the hull. They were afraid the stress of taking her out of the water would break her apart.” I squat, resting one elbow on my knee and reach down to pick up a small rock, tossing it from one hand to the other.

“I still think it would be better to risk it. What if they suspect foul play? No way would any evidence would be submissible in court,” she blurts out in disdain.

“Government, huh?” I gaze up at her, remembering the way she handled herself in the bar with Jake Coons.

“Yeah.” She turns away from me and looks out over the water.

“Why so secretive? Who do you work for, the CIA or something?” I joke, standing next to her, chucking the rock as hard as I can so it lands in the water. She doesn't say anything, just focuses in the direction of the rock I just threw. “Do you?” The look on her face is telling me I'm close.

“No, not the CIA,” she laughs, waving it off like I'm being silly. “Race you to the bottom.” She changes the subject once again and starts jumping down the rocks. I watch her for a moment then start after her, determined not to be beaten by a girl. I pass her and hop off the last rock onto the sand just as she reaches the bottom stone. I turn around and face her triumphantly as she stands about a foot higher than me on the large rock.

Grabbing her by the waist, I lift her up off the rock and hold her there, staring into her eyes.

  “Why won't you tell me where you work?” I ask. She pushes on my shoulders, and starts laughing. “I kind of like you, and I would like to know more about you,” I tell her as she stops struggling and gets serious.

“You kind of like me?” she repeats.

“Yeah, I kind of like you, a lot.” I slide her down so her face is even with mine. Her breath hitches, our lips inches from touching.

“I'm an FBI agent,” she whispers, her eyes watching me.

“Really?” I put her down. “You're not here investigating the disappearance are you?” I am suddenly suspicious as all her questions come to mind.

“No, God no,” she instantly says. “I swear, I'm here on vacation. I didn't know anything about it until I got here.” She senses my change and reaches out to touch my arm.

“You've just been kind of elusive.” I look down at her hand on my forearm.

“That has nothing to do with anything other than a woman being careful.” She drops her hand and crosses her arms over her chest. “Do most women you meet spill their life history to you in the first hour?” Now the tide changes as she starts to get feisty about it. “Do you want my bank account number, or how about my social?” She is getting fierier right before my eyes and I laugh, it's innocent and sexy at the same time.

“Okay, I'm sorry.” I can't stop laughing as she fumes. I bend at the knees and wrap my arms around her waist again, this time throwing her over my shoulder. “Do I need to throw you in the ocean to cool you off?”

“Justin, put me down.” I can hear amusement in her voice so I don't put her down, but start walking toward the water, and she wraps her arms around my chest.

“Just so you know, if I'm going in so are you.” She has a death grip on me and I have no doubt that she will not be letting go. It doesn't stop me as I continue to walk into the water.

“Justin,” she squeals as the cold Atlantic Ocean hits her legs. She'll have to let go when her head hits the water. At least that's what I think, but she doesn't and I'm totally submerged before I let go of her tiny waist. This woman is stubborn and I love it. She comes up from the cold water for air, inhaling deep. I pull on her arm to bring her back to me when she struggles in the waves. I'm anchored, being used to the waves, and her body smashes into mine. Once again we are face to face.