Dangerous Waters Page 5

  “Ha. An old maid?” Those bright eyes looked like blue ink. “Well, you figured wrong, Sherlock. He’s a friend of mine. I take good care of my friends.”

  Holly felt foolish on too many levels to even think about. And slightly threatened, even though he hadn’t moved an inch. There was something about his powerful frame and the controlled way he moved that suggested he could dominate any situation. A black belt in aikido and boxing champ at her weight, she wasn’t scared of much. She knew he could hurt her if he wanted, but she wasn’t about to wimp out just because a guy was bigger than she was. Pain was a part of life; it was how you dealt with it that mattered.

  The look on his face was fierce. “Are you supposed to be a good cop?”

  Her lips tightened. “I am a good cop.”

  “Well, your instincts are screwed.”

  “And maybe you’re in the closet.”

  His laugh sent a shiver of heat down to her bones. She was bluffing and they both knew it. “Do me a favor and look for solid clues rather than making half-assed assumptions. Thom is like a father to me. I’m as straight as you are.” Their gazes locked, and her mouth went dry as sand. She had to drag her eyes away.

  She’d wanted him to be gay. Being a hot gay guy would be absolutely fantastic, but once again luck wasn’t going her way. It amused him, she could tell. And he was obviously less than impressed with her deductive skills, because, despite everything, the frisson of attraction crackled between them, as obvious as forked lightning on a moonless night.

  She raised her chin. “It was a possible scenario.”

  “Bianca?” Thom Edgefield’s voice rasped in his throat. She’d almost forgotten about the poor guy. His eyes popped open, and he stared at her as if he’d seen a proverbial ghost.

  Finn’s gaze sharpened on her features. He looked back at the older man. “That isn’t Bianca, Thom. This here is Sergeant Holly Rudd. She’s a cop.”

  “Who’s Bianca?” she asked.

  Professor Edgefield tried to climb to his feet, but Finn pressed a hand on his chest. “Just rest easy. It isn’t her.”

  “Who’s he talking about? Who’s Bianca?”

  Neither man spoke. When the old man wouldn’t calm down, Finn helped him to his feet and he lunged unsteadily toward her. She was suddenly aware that she was alone in a room with two possible suspects. Her hand rested on her stun gun.

  “Don’t,” Finn said firmly, though he didn’t move toward her. Smart guy. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

  “Sir,” she told the professor sharply, “you need to take a step back.” Thom clasped her fingers as if he wanted to hold her hand. Disquiet crawled over her skin in size twelve boots.

  Finn must have recognized her decided lack of amusement because he grabbed the man and hauled him physically into a seat. “It isn’t Bianca, Thom. That isn’t her. Bianca’s dead, remember?”

  Whoa. “Dead?”

  The old man stared at her as if he’d gone deaf and dumb to reason.

  “His wife. Murdered years ago, along with their infant son in the woods.” Finn jerked his head in the general direction of town. “His little girl’s body was never found, and although I didn’t see it before, you’re a dead ringer for the woman.”

  “My father is alive and well in Vancouver.” His DNA shaped every day of her life. Every decision she’d ever made.

  Thomas Edgefield’s gray eyes locked on hers, and it was disconcerting to realize hers were the exact same stormy shade. “I’m sorry about your family, Professor, but I’m not your long-lost daughter. I’m the primary investigator in a homicide.” She swallowed her pity for the man. She had a job to do. “I have to ask you some questions about last night. About the body you found. Are you up to it or should I wait until after you’ve seen a doctor?”

  “After the doc examines him,” Finn said firmly.

  “I’m not sick. I just had a bit of a shock.” Edgefield’s eyes latched onto Finn’s, and he patted the hand that held a fistful of his shirt. “You can let me go now. My marbles came back.” He huffed out a soft laugh that made Finn scowl before releasing him.

  Finn threw Holly a tight-lipped glare and shook his head in exasperation. “You want to talk to me or him?”

  “Him first. If that’s OK, Professor?”

  “I’d be delighted to sit and chat with you, Officer.”

  She took out a digital recorder and a spiral notepad. “Mind if I record this session?”

  “Not at all. Not at all.” Edgefield rubbed his palms up and down his thighs.

  She shivered. He repelled her on a subtle level. And that shamed her because he’d clearly suffered tremendous loss. She turned her attention to Finn. “Where will I find you when I’m done?”

  His eyes glowed with controlled emotions. “I’ll wait for the doc and send him in.” He obviously didn’t want to leave them alone, but she was the one in charge. “Cabin sixteen. They’re all numbered so you won’t have to use too many detective skills to hunt me down.”

  Funny man.

  He pointed a stern finger at his boss. “The doctor will be here in five minutes. You’d be dead if it was a real emergency, but make sure you let him examine you anyway.”

  Thom nodded. His secretary suddenly hovered in the doorway with a shocked expression on her face.

  “Holy mother of God.” She crossed herself as she stared at Holly’s face. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  Well, that was unsettling.

  “Get us some tea or coffee, would you, Gladys?” the professor asked.

  Finn Carver didn’t take his eyes off Holly’s as he headed toward the door. He had beautiful eyes. Direct eyes that seemed to see right into her mind. Just when she thought he was going to leave quietly, he stopped beside her. Leaned close to her ear and she forced herself not to back up. “He’s been through a lot over the years. Borne more than any man should have to bear. Treat him gently, or…”

  “Or what?” She jerked around to face him. Blue eyes turned flat as stone. His lips were a bare inch from her own. A shiver of something primal slid over her skin.

  “Or you’ll have to deal with me.”

  “Mr. Carver, are you threatening me?”

  His lip curled. “I don’t threaten women. I just don’t want you making a bad situation worse with your cockeyed powers of deduction.”

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” Her jaw locked in anger as they glared at one another.

  “Then do it.” His gaze drifted to her lips. Another shot of sexual excitement sent tingles spiraling through her body. Her heart pounded harder, but she straightened her spine. He was using basic animal attraction to prove how wrong she’d been earlier. But he could be faking it. Hell, guys seemed able to turn it on and off like a faucet. Either way, she was pissed.

  “It would make a helluva change for the cops to actually catch a killer around here.”

  She matched his grim intensity with some of her own. “I’ll find this killer, Mr. Carver. Whoever it might be. You can count on it.”

  Gina Swartz rested her head on her lover’s chest and trailed her fingers over his sternum. They only had an hour. He’d started out fixing her plumbing and ended up fixing her broken heart instead. “Finn Carver came to see me today.”

  A grunt.

  “He asked if I’d told anyone about what he was looking at in the library last week.”

  Muscles tensed beneath her hand. “What did you tell him?”

  Her hands slid over taut, smooth flesh. “I told him I hadn’t said a word to anyone. Do you know what’s going on with all the cops?” Her hands slipped beneath the covers, and he groaned and closed his eyes.

  “If you keep doing that there’s only going to be one thing going on.” He dragged her mouth to his for a long, hot kiss. “Don’t tell that mad fuck about us, or the cops. I don’t want to deal with Finn Carver or his crazy-ass brother.”

  “Anyone would think you’re ashamed of me.” She squeezed her fingers, tight
and low, part punishment for mentioning Brent while naked in her bed.

  Heels pressed against the mattress, thighs strong and muscular. He moaned. “I don’t want people poking their noses where they don’t belong.” The moan turned to a growl. He was sweating and straining in lust-filled agony. “It’s nobody else’s business.”

  “I’m not going to say a word. Why would I?” This was her business. It had taken a long time, but she felt whole again. She’d finally left her past where it belonged. She traced his earlobe with her tongue. “It’s so soon after last time I think you might need a little assistance here.” He laughed as he twitched hot and rigid against her palm.

  “Feel free to help me out.” A wicked dimple appeared at the side of his gorgeous mouth. “I can’t keep up with you anyway.”

  “Good.” She slipped beneath the covers and took him in her mouth. She’d done things with this man she’d never imagined possible until a few weeks ago, and it made her feel powerful. His hands cupped her head as he urged her to take him deeper. She reveled in the power it gave her, in the knowledge that she could bring him to his knees with a few well-placed strokes. He filled the empty places inside her. Made her forget about the one man she’d loved with all her heart her entire goddamned life.

  Not anymore.

  Some days, her new lover brought her flowers and treated her like a lady. Other days he was rough and fucked her like a whore. They played erotic games. It was exciting, and she never knew which way his fantasies were going to veer. She’d discovered she had a few fantasies of her own that he didn’t mind exploring. She craved the distraction of him like a drug. Rode the highs with wild abandon, but she wasn’t addicted. She was never going to be addicted to a man ever again.

  They had tea. From a pot. With china cups and saucers. It reminded her achingly of her mother, who’d died eighteen months ago from pancreatic cancer. Now there was just her and her father, their all-consuming work, and their annual father-daughter vacation.

  He was all she had. She would not let him down.

  Professor Edgefield’s color was better, pink brightening his cheekbones. The local doc had been and gone, telling the professor he needed to come in for a full physical ASAP.

  Now they sat in comfortable chairs facing one another in uncomfortable silence. Edgefield’s gaze never left her face.

  She sipped her tea then began. “So tell me what happened.”

  “The police have copies of all my files. I send them regular updates.” He went to stand up and reach for something, but she stopped him.

  “No, Professor.” She waved him back to his seat. “About last night. Tell me what happened last night.”

  Understanding slid over his features. He closed his eyes as if in pain. “I’m sorry. It isn’t that I don’t care that poor man was murdered, I’m just so used to thinking about my own family.”

  “I understand.”

  There was another uncomfortable pause—because how could she really presume she understood what he’d gone through?

  “Do you look like your parents?” he asked.

  “This isn’t about me, Professor.”

  “Of course not.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his gaunt throat. He had the look of a sick man—hollow, slight, insubstantial. “Well, let’s see. Last night I ordered the marine station’s dive master—that would be Finn—to take me out to Crow Point so we could dive a wreck we found there about ten days ago.”

  “You told people about this wreck?”

  “We did not.” His eyes were keen with intelligence now.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t want them disturbing it.”

  Why not?

  “Did you find treasure, Professor?”

  “Call me Thom. And, yes, we did find treasure.” A twinkle appeared.

  She sat back in her chair. Getting information out of this guy was like playing a game of chess. He was hiding something. “There are rules for salvage. Is that why you didn’t tell anyone? Did you break the law and now you’re worried you’ll be arrested for it, maybe lose your job? I don’t care about treasure, Thom. I’m only concerned about how that man died.”

  His expression was almost pitying. “It’s not what you think.”

  Holding on tight to her patience, she frowned at her notepad. “What exactly do I think?”

  “That Finn and I found gold or precious gems down there. That maybe we discovered someone else down there and killed him to protect it. But I can assure you that is not what happened.”

  The dead guy hadn’t been killed yesterday, so they hadn’t killed him then. Coroner figured he’d been dead four or five days at least.

  “The Underwater Recovery Team didn’t find any treasure, Thom. So what happened to it?”

  “One man’s treasure is another man’s…” another irritating pause, “…junk. We didn’t tell anyone about it because I didn’t want anyone disturbing the wreck.” His expression morphed into deep concern. “The damage done already is probably irreparable.”

  “Especially to the dead guy,” Holly said wryly.

  “How old are you?”

  She frowned. “I don’t give out personal information.”

  “Thirty-two?”

  She jolted. It was just a lucky guess. “You see anyone else while you were on your way to the dive site?”

  Thom’s eyes went up and right as if searching his memory. “We saw a few boats in the distance. No one on land or in the cove.”

  “And you’re certain you didn’t tell anyone about this wreck?”

  “I am absolutely positive.”

  “What about Mr. Carver. Did he tell anyone?”

  “Finn wouldn’t want the wreck to attract inexperienced divers. The fact he took you down is quite the compliment, by the way. How long have you been diving?”

  She gave up telling him her personal life wasn’t any of his business. “You and Carver seem pretty tight.”

  “We are ‘tight.’” The word sounded wrong coming from his lips. “I took him in when his father was killed.”

  Killed? She had so many questions but needed to stay on track and figure out what they’d found in that wreck. “Why did you take him in?”

  “There was no one else. I had space.” His laugh was mirthless.

  She needed a lot more information than she’d been able to gather so far. About Edgefield. About Carver. The former was an eminent, if whacky, scientist; the latter had been in the military and had never been in trouble with the law. There was little else so far, but she’d requested deep background checks on both of them. “Tell me about this treasure.”

  “I’ll do better than that.” A grin lit his face as he stood and grabbed a windbreaker. “I’ll show you.”

  Holly pulled on her dark blue patrol jacket and followed him to the door. The secretary threw Holly another of those wide-eyed looks, then told Thom she was leaving for the day. Other people wandered in and out, giving her curious stares as she followed the director down a thousand stairs then pushed open a door and was jostled by the brisk wind coming in off the sound. She looked across the inlet to the Coast Guard station. A bald eagle sat at the pinnacle of a massive pine, staring out to sea. It was still light, but the sun was starting to set across the horizon. Down more steps until they reached the water. He typed in a code and entered a square, modern building. There wasn’t a soul about.

  The interior was dimly lit and silent except for the background drone of appliances. He flicked on the light switches. “It’s very quiet down here this time of year, which is perfect for what I need.”

  Suddenly the silence and isolation pressed down on her. Holly had made a tactical error. Winslow, Malone, and Chastain were conducting door-to-door interviews. Staff Sergeant Furlong and Cpl. Rachel Messenger had gone to talk with the aboriginal community just south of where the wreck was located.

  The professor pressed his finger to his lips and urged her inside.

  The chill in the air at her b
ack was preferable to the unease she felt at being alone with this eccentric man. She unclipped her Taser and rested her palm on the weapon. She hadn’t called in her position to fellow officers, hadn’t expected to leave the main building. She eyed the back of the professor’s thinning hair. She could take him.

  They walked up a set of stairs. The place stank of antiseptic and brine. Warning signs were posted on every wall about chemicals and radiation.

  “In here.” The light in his eyes bordered on feverish. The guy was looking at her as if she were his long-lost daughter or, worse, a reincarnated wife straight out of the grave.

  She steeled herself to blast fifty thousand volts into his body.

  “Go on.” She jerked her chin to indicate he move farther ahead of her. She half expected Finn Carver to leap out of the shadows and push her to the floor. Every sense was on high alert, and her heart thumped erratically. She adjusted her footing and braced herself. He could damn well try.

  The professor strode to a fish tank. “You can’t tell anyone about these yet,” he pleaded earnestly, as if she had a clue what he was talking about.

  He leaned closer to the tank and flicked on a light. Slowly the aquarium came to life, and she spotted several unusual creatures floating around in the water. They were black with yellow spots edged with purple.

  “Exquisite, aren’t they? We saw them the first time we dove the wreck, but I had to set up exactly the right conditions in the lab before I could risk bringing any to the surface.”

  “Sea slugs?” She tried to keep the doubt out of her voice.

  “A previously undiscovered species of nudibranch.” He beamed.

  “This is your treasure?” Her heart thumped so loudly in her ears she felt like a damned fool.

  He nodded. “So you can see there’s no monetary value in the treasure for anyone. And certainly no motive for us to tell anyone about it.”

  Damn. It made sense. Or it was a hell of a ruse because she didn’t know one sea slug from another. She’d check it out. “Thank you for your time, Professor.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, Sergeant Rudd.” And still his eyes roved her face like cockroach antennae. “Will you be reopening my wife’s murder investigation?”