Against the Tide (7 page)

“You said you were going to fill me in on the case.” She took a sip of her wine, surprised at how much she was enjoying herself.

A trickle of guilt slipped through her. A friend had been murdered. It wasn't a day for any sort of enjoyment.

“The police have a lead,” Rafe said, putting things back on track as they should be. “Someone on one of the visiting boats at the harbor said he saw a man in the area around the time Scotty was killed. Security camera may have caught a glimpse of him as he was leaving.”

“Oh wow, that's great. Do they have a name? At least some kind of description?”

“No name. Not much of a description. Tall, thick-shouldered, wearing a hoodie. He appeared to be on foot. No sign of him since. But they've put out a BOLO. That's cop talk for—”

“Be on the lookout.” Liv knew exactly what it meant since she'd had one put out on her. She managed to smile. “We have Dish TV up here, you know? Plus I like action movies.”

The corner of Rafe's sexy mouth edged up. “From a man's point of view, that's a definite mark in the plus column.”

“Are you keeping score?”

“So far just taking notes.”

Liv made no reply. She didn't want Rafe Brodie making notes on her. She didn't want him cooking her supper.

But dear God, she was attracted to those dark good looks and hot brown eyes. She wanted him, she realized, admitting it to herself as she had refused to do before. She'd wanted him for weeks.

She couldn't let it happen.

It was too much of a risk.

Then again, a single night with Rafe Brodie might be worth the risk.

 

 

Rafe dropped Olivia back at the Pelican and headed on home. He had a half-day charter in the morning. He'd need to be up early and he hadn't slept much last night.

He parked the SUV in the garage next to the silver F-150 he used as summer approached, good for hauling gear for the boats. There was a shed out back that held his ATV, a UTV, and a pair of snowmobiles. With sixty-four inches of annual rainfall and three hundred inches of snow, they were way more than toys up here.

The house was cold when he walked up the steps into the entry. With the garage below, living room and kitchen on the main floor, he had great views of the mountains. There was a deck off the living room and one off the master bedroom, which was up half a story from the entry.

He kept the heat turned down when he wasn't home. He walked over and turned it up, then headed upstairs to the bedroom to strip off his clothes. After the day he'd had, he looked forward to a soak in his big Jacuzzi, which sat in the sunroom he'd built at the end of the upstairs hall.

Too bad Olivia wasn't there to share it with him.

He thought of the evening he had spent with her. She was good company. A little too reserved, but he was pretty sure the lady had secrets she was guarding.

Still, she was quick and not afraid to spar with him, unlike a lot of women. And he'd been right about the attraction. Rafe knew women. Knew when one felt the same pull he did. The quickening in the blood. The need that gnawed at your insides and wouldn't let go.

She'd said she wasn't dating. He'd watched her enough to know that was true. But Olivia was a woman and women had needs.

One thing for sure. The lady clearly needed a man.

Rafe was surprised how much he wanted to be that man.

Chapter Seven

By the time Rafe reached the dock early the next morning, the sun was up and shining over an ocean as smooth as glass. A reflection of the far-off, jagged, snow-covered peaks shimmered on the surface of the water.

Rafe pulled in a lungful of cold, crisp air. It was a beautiful time of year. Perfect, if he didn't have to think of his dead friend, lying murdered, his killer still walking free.

Rafe rubbed a hand over his jaw as he headed down the dock toward
Sea Scorpion.
Now that the fingerprint crew had finished their work, the boat would need to be cleaned all over again, and even more thoroughly than usual. Today was a sightseeing excursion, not a fishing trip.

There would be coffee and donuts for the passengers when they arrived, sandwiches and soft drinks for later. Jaimie Graham, the youngest member of the Great Alaska Charters crew, would be picking the food up before she came aboard.

Rafe had spoken to Jaimie again last night, told her she could take as much time off as she needed, but she had insisted on working—which Rafe figured was a smarter idea.

Doing something was always better than sitting around grieving, unable to find a way to make the hurting stop. On a sightseeing trip, he didn't really need an extra hand, but he figured Jaimie needed something to do, so he'd find a way to keep her busy.

Today's trip would also include a new member of the crew. Zach Carver, who'd been working on
Sea Dragon
, would be taking Scotty's place as first mate. It was a tough decision since Zach was only twenty-one, but Scott had been the same age when Rafe had brought him aboard.

Zach was just out of college, still trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life. But he was responsible and smart, and always eager to learn. Rafe figured, in time, Zach would be able to handle the first mate's job as well as Scotty had.

As Rafe climbed aboard, he spotted the kid's dark head at work in the galley, wiping off the black fingerprint powder the police had left behind.

Aboard early and hard at work. Rafe took it as a good sign.

“Morning, Captain.”

Rafe reached out and they shook hands. “Welcome aboard, Zach.”

“Thanks. I'm . . . ahh . . . really sorry about Scotty. I know it gives me a chance to work for you, but—”

“You don't have to say it. We all miss him.”

“I hope I can do half as good a job as Scott did.”

“You just need a little time. You'll be fine. Today should be easy enough. We're only doing a little sightseeing. Give you a chance to work on your guiding skills.”

“You're letting me give the tour?”

“You're taking over Scott's responsibilities. Narrating the trip is one of them. Can you handle it?”

Zach smiled. “I know the landmarks and the history of the area. In the summers, I did tours for another company before I started working for Mo. I can handle it.”

He'd seen that information in Zach's résumé. It was one of the reasons he'd decided to give him the position. “Do a good job and you'll be handling the job from now on.”

“Cool. I mean . . . thanks.”

Rafe felt the pull of a smile. It was good having Zach aboard, someone to help keep his mind off Scotty. For the passengers' sake, the crew needed to stay positive, give their paying customers a good trip to remember.

Jaimie arrived with the food a little before six. She was tall and curvy, though she rarely allowed those curves to show. She kept her auburn hair cut short, wore jeans, rubber-soled boots, and heavy sweaters. She usually wore a wool cap pulled down over her ears, the way she did today.

She set the coffee and donuts out in the galley. Rafe saw the instant she recognized Zach Carver and realized he was taking Scotty's place.

Her mouth thinned. “What are you doing here? Why aren't you on
Sea Dragon
?”

Zach gave her a hard-edged smile. He was several inches taller, with short, black hair and dark eyes. A trace of Alaska Native somewhere gave him an olive complexion. His mother, who'd once competed in the Miss Alaska beauty pageant, gave him the good looks that set him apart from other guys his age.

In a darker, less all-American-boy way, Zach was even more handsome than Scotty, though Jaimie never seemed to notice.

“I work here now,” Zach said. “I know that jacks your jaws, but you'll just have to get used to it.”

Jaimie turned to Rafe, her eyebrows climbing. “He's just here temporarily, right? You aren't bringing him aboard as first mate?”

Rafe poured himself a cup of coffee, blew over the top to cool it. “You don't think he can handle it?”

“Scotty's only been dead for a day. It isn't right—”

“I've got a business to run, Jaimie. I need a first mate and Zach has earned this shot. Now I'd suggest you tend to your own business if you want to keep your job.”

Jaimie tossed a hard glance at Zach and stomped out onto the deck.

“I figured she'd take it hard,” Zach said. Like everyone else, he knew the feelings Jaimie carried for Scott.

“They were friends,” Rafe said.

Zach scoffed. “Yeah, they were friends, all right. Only because Scott wasn't interested in Jaimie that way. He was in love with Cassie.”

Rafe made no reply because it was true. He felt sorry for Jaimie. But it was time she faced facts and got on with her life.

Rafe finished his coffee and went to work, checking and rechecking equipment, preparing for the passengers who had booked a half-day sightseeing charter: a family of three from Minnesota and a couple from Connecticut.

Ten minutes later, the Carsons arrived, a boy about nine and his parents, all of them a little overweight. They were warmly dressed and clearly excited.

“Welcome aboard,” Rafe said, and introductions were made all around.

The woman turned to her husband. “Oh, isn't it just the perfect day, George?”

“It is, Betty, it surely is.”

The family was settled inside, drinking coffee and eating donuts, when the couple from Connecticut arrived. Trent Petersen was a little over six feet tall and solidly built, with perfectly groomed medium brown hair and blue eyes.

His wife was average height, wore glasses and very little makeup. Long, straight black hair showed beneath the wool cap pulled down over her head. There was nothing about Anna Petersen that stood out, nothing about either one of them, really, except for the man's blue eyes.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain,” Petersen said.

“You, as well. Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you. Please call us Trent and Anna.” The pair sat down at one of the tables inside the cabin and the couples introduced themselves. George Carson introduced his son, Bobby.

Once everyone was settled, Rafe powered up the big twin Cummins diesels, and Zach made his way onto the dock to toss off the lines. He jumped back aboard, and they eased out of the slip.

They were on their way. Rafe was grateful for the beautiful day that, in some small measure, helped to lighten his dreary mood.

 

 

As
Scorpion
roared over the water, Zach could feel the hostility simmering off Jaimie in waves. They were standing out on deck, enjoying the wind and the sun and the sea. Soon the temperature would warm, the passengers would wander outside, and Zach would take over the mic and narrate the sights along the coastline.

He gave Jaimie as much space as he could, but the hostile look she wore was beginning to get on his nerves.

“I can't believe you'd take advantage of Scotty's death the way you did.”

He turned to where she'd walked up next to him at the rail. “What the hell are you talking about? Captain Brodie came to me, not the other way around. I didn't take advantage of anything.”

“You always wanted to be
Scorpion
's first mate. Every summer when you came back here to work, you were looking for a way to get Scotty's job.”

“You are so full of it I can't believe it.” She was nineteen, he knew, and she was pretty, though she did everything in her power to hide it. He had known her since high school. He'd been a couple years older, but there had always been something about her. She was smart and she was fearless.

And even though her wealthy parents spoiled her like crazy, he could tell Jaimie Graham was special. Seemed like she was the only one who didn't know it.

“Look,” he said, “I get that you're hurting. I know you had a big thing for Scotty. Everyone knew it, including Scott. But he was in love with Cassie. She was right for him and you never were.”

Fury tightened the lines of her pretty face. “What do you know? You don't know anything about it. Scotty had to marry her. She's pregnant!”

He'd heard the rumors. He was fairly certain they were true. It didn't make a damn bit of difference. Scott loved Cassie and he made sure everyone knew it.

“You really think that was it? You don't think he loved her? Because I think he was crazy in love with her. I think you were just determined not to see it.”

“You don't know anything!” She tried to turn away, but Zach caught her arm.

“Your parents spoiled you, Jaimie. They gave you everything you ever wanted. You thought you could have Scotty the way you've gotten everything else, but you couldn't. Once you accept the way things really are, you'll be a whole lot better off.”

“Leave me alone!”

“Gladly.” Turning, he left her standing at the rail, so furious she could hardly breathe. Anger was better than tears, he figured. Still, Zach wished that anger wasn't directed at him.

Chapter Eight

It was three fifteen Friday afternoon, the lunch crowd pretty much gone, when Liv took off her apron and headed upstairs to her apartment.

In the bedroom, she dragged the clip out of her hair, shook the dark mass free, then used a scrunchie to pull the heavy strands into a ponytail. The ponytail went through the hole at the back of one of her many baseball caps.

She owned dozens; most she'd purchased, some had been given to her, a few she'd had since the night she left New York City. Everything from Superwoman to Daisy Duck.

She rarely wore her hair down. For years, she'd been doing her best not to be noticed. The ball caps had started as a necessity, but over time had become a kind of private rebellion against the austere life she'd been forced to live. She had fun, playful caps; dark, black-mood caps; a few with swear words across the front.

Today, with Scott and Cassie weighing heavily on her mind, she chose a black cap with
EARTH SUCKS
printed in sapphire blue. It went with her black running pants with the blue stripe down the side and matched her dismal mood.

She kept her stun gun in the top dresser drawer. Liv took it out, carried it into the entry, grabbed her Windbreaker, and stuck the stun gun into the pocket. Eager to get outside, she locked the apartment door and set the alarm, headed downstairs and out to the backyard.

Khan barked once and ran toward her. She held up his leash, which was
nuff said
in dog speak.

“Wanna go for a run? What do you say, big boy?”

He barked once.
Walk
and r
un
were among the many words he understood. “Okay, let's go.”

Liv hooked the leash into his collar and they headed out the gate. Khan fell immediately into position beside her, his dark eyes scanning the area for threats. Liv's hand unconsciously slid into the pocket of her jacket. At the comforting feel of the stun gun, she relaxed and picked up her pace. Eventually, she figured, she'd feel safe enough to leave the weapon behind, but so far that time hadn't come.

Lengthening her stride, she moved into a steady jogging rhythm, and Khan matched her pace, running effortlessly along beside her. With the day so gloriously sunny, she headed up Meals Avenue. Stretching her legs felt great and she had plenty of time. She jogged north for a while, then cut over to Hazelet and decided to go all the way up to the end of the road.

She was enjoying herself. She loved the tangy smell of the sea, the crisp, chilly breeze against her skin, loved the feel of the warm sun soaking through her clothes. Since the night she had left New York, Valdez was the first place she had allowed herself to call home. She felt safe way up in Alaska, thousands of miles from the trouble she'd left behind, a place where the climate and harsh conditions created a protective barrier from the rest of the world.

She had finally begun to feel safe, and that feeling grew stronger every day. She had even made a few friends, like Nell and Cassie and Katie. Scotty had become a friend, too. Memories of him with Cassie brought a fresh jolt of pain, but Liv pushed it away, determined not to think about it now.

Instead, she continued her easy run, figured she had covered a little over a mile when a tall man rounded the corner a block in front of her. She recognized those wide shoulders and long, purposeful strides.

He hadn't noticed her behind him. Clearly his mind was somewhere else. She'd been hoping to hear from him all day, but so far he hadn't called. She knew he'd had a charter early that morning, but he would have been back at the harbor before now. She'd been hoping something new would turn up on the case or the autopsy report would come in. Positive news of some kind.

She wondered where he was going, wondered if his destination might have something to do with the investigation. Or maybe Sally Henderson lived somewhere close by and he was actually still seeing her. Or perhaps he was seeing someone else. The thought made her mouth tighten.

When he turned onto Robe River Drive, she decided to follow him. She needed to speak to him, right? It was as good an excuse as any.

The high school was just up ahead. She watched him striding toward the big building that housed the Valdez High School swimming pool. When he reached the entrance to the building, opened the door and disappeared inside, her curiosity hitched up another notch and she followed.

School was out for the weekend and there weren't any students around. Even if one appeared, Khan was great with kids. He was only a threat when she gave the command, which so far she had never needed to do.

Pulling open the door, she and the dog slipped quietly inside and Khan sat down at her feet. She had read somewhere that the pool was seventy-five feet long, with six swim lanes. She glanced around the big open space, searching for Rafe, didn't see him till she heard a splash as he dove into the water.

She should leave, give him his privacy, but some little demon just wouldn't let her.

She watched him swim the first ten laps with a skill that clearly showed years of practice. On the eleventh lap, he started doing butterfly strokes from one end of the pool to the other, his wide shoulders breaking the surface, his lean muscles bunching and stretching.

Something lifted in her stomach.
Time to go
, she told herself, seeing him slow toward the near end of the pool.
Leave before he catches you standing here watching him like a teenager with a crush.

But it was already too late. That lean, hard body lifted out of the water onto the decking. Water rushed over all those beautiful muscles as he came to his feet and started toward her. Droplets streamed off a chest that was lightly furred and rippling with muscle, down a ridged abdomen, over the sexiest little black Speedo she had ever seen.

She couldn't breathe.

Rafe grabbed a towel off the bench and kept walking, mopped his face and chest, towel-dried his hair, then tied the towel around his hips.

“Keep looking at me that way and I'm going to do something about it,” Rafe said.

Liv jerked her gaze to his face, embarrassed that she'd been caught staring. “Sorry. I just . . . Khan and I were getting a little exercise when I saw you turn onto the road. I wanted to talk to you so I . . . umm . . . followed.”

She fought to keep her eyes from wandering over that amazing body again. “You're a very good swimmer,” she said. “I guess that's how you got so . . . ummm . . . so . . .”

“So . . . what?”

“Ripped,” she said, and he laughed.

“I was in the Coast Guard. Rescue Swimmer. It was important to be in top condition. Swimming helps me stay fit and I like the water, so I've kept at it.”

“I'd say it's working.”

“I don't usually parade around half naked in front of a woman—unless there's a reason.”

She felt those dark eyes on her face, felt the heat creeping into her cheeks, and tried not to think of sex, which after seeing him in that tiny swimsuit and going three long years without a man, seemed impossible to do.

When no words came out, Rafe just smiled. “I'll get dressed. We can talk when I come back.”

As he walked away, she got another eyeful. Wide back tapering to a tight butt, and those long, sinewy legs. A swimmer's body. Olympic swimmers had bodies like that. Good Lord, the guy was hot.

He returned a few minutes later in jeans and a lightweight V-neck sweater, his damp hair looking almost black. A gym bag hung from one big hand. “We might as well head back.”

She just nodded. They left the indoor pool and started back down the hill toward town.

“I was hoping to hear from you,” she said as they walked along. She set a good pace and he matched his long strides to hers. “When I saw you, I figured now was a good time to find out what's happening. Have you heard anything?”

“Afraid not. The only thing we can do is wait for the autopsy, see if anything turns up there, or the police come up with another lead.”

“What about Sam King? We're both pretty sure he was lying.”

“I figured I'd talk to him again tonight. He usually heads for the Catch after work.” The Fisherman's Catch Saloon was a local favorite. “Get a couple of beers in him, he might open up.”

“But you don't really think he's involved.”

“No, but we need to cross him off our suspect list and we can't do that until we know for sure where he was at the time of the murder.”

“Chip Reed should be back tomorrow,” she said. “He and Scotty weren't exactly best buds. Maybe they argued and it got out of hand.”

“Could be. I'll call his boss, see what time he's due back, but I'd rather speak to him at home. He'll be more relaxed. Might be easier to get him talking.”

“Makes sense,” Liv said.

“I've got a full-day charter tomorrow. We can talk to Reed after I get back. I'll call, let you know what time I'll pick you up.”

She bit her lip. She wanted to talk to Reed. And she and Rafe seemed to be working well together. She shouldn't be spending so much time with him, but she'd worry about that after Scotty's killer was found.

“What about King?” she asked. “I want to be there tonight when you talk to him.”

“You might recall your last conversation with Sam. You two didn't exactly hit it off. He'll be more likely to open up to another guy.”

“Or maybe not.” She looked up at him. “How about good cop, bad cop? You can guess which one I'll be.”

He chuckled, seemed to be thinking it over. “Might work. Okay, we'll give it a try. I plan to drop in about eight.”

“Fine, I'll meet you at the Catch at eight.”

They walked at a brisk speed, moving easily together, Khan trotting along at Liv's side. “You live around here?” she asked.

“I've got a house on Mendeltna. I bought it at the right price and remodeled. Did a lot of the work myself over a couple of winters. Kept me busy, and it turned out pretty much the way I wanted. You ready for that supper I promised to fix you?”

She quickly shook her head, then realized it was an automatic response to a man asking her out. Rafe was a good-looking, sexy male, and no matter how much she tried to suppress her feminine nature, she was still a woman.

“Not yet,” she finally said, still trying to decide how to handle the dangerous attraction she felt for him. “Maybe once this is over.”

He just nodded. She liked that he didn't press her. Sort of.

They reached the corner of his street. “If I hear anything, I'll call you,” he promised. “Otherwise, I'll see you at the Catch.” Turning down his street, he started striding away.

Khan made a whimpering sound, reminding her it was time for them to go home. With a sigh, she started walking on down the road toward the café.

 

 

Rafe reached his front yard and started up the steps to the porch. As often as he could manage and nearly every afternoon in the winter, he spent time at the swimming pool. Certain days were open to the public. He and some of the locals paid a fee for access when the pool wasn't in use.

Water was his domain, had been since he'd joined the Coast Guard. A Rescue Swimmer had to be in top physical condition, able to endurance-swim in the roughest seas, in the worst possible weather.

Now he swam to stay in shape. Still loved doing it.

His iPhone sounded as he walked into the entry, playing the Coast Guard theme, “Semper Paratus.” The song reminded him of an especially good time in his life and always made him smile.

He dragged the phone out of his jeans and pressed it against his ear. “Brodie.”

“Chief Rosen here. Autopsy came back. Medical examiner says
Scorpion
wasn't the primary crime scene. Ferris was killed somewhere else. His body was dumped on the dock after he was dead.”

Fresh anger rolled through him. “Why didn't the coroner pick that up?”

“Rained that night. At the time, we figured there wasn't more blood because it had been washed away. We've started looking for the actual murder scene. Scotty walked from his house to the motel. He was probably on his way back home when he was killed. We'll be searching along a couple of possible routes.”

“Any news on the suspect?”

“'Fraid not.”

“Any chance I could take a look at that security cam photo you've got? Maybe I could pick up something.”

“Sure. I'll have my guys send it to your e-mail address. What is it?”

“Rafe Brodie at g-mail dot com.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

Rosen rang off. As Rafe climbed the half flight of stairs to the master bedroom, the photo arrived on his iPhone. He took a quick look, but needed to examine a larger image. Heading down the hall past the guest room, he entered the bedroom he used for an office, went in and booted up his computer.

The photo was as shadowy as the chief had said. The rain was coming down hard, the camera angle was wrong, and the image was extremely blurry, just the outline of a figure, the head mostly covered by what appeared to be some kind of hooded outerwear. The shoulders hinted at a muscular build, but it was just a guess.

No sign of the murder weapon in his hand, but if the crime scene was somewhere else, the weapon had probably been disposed of before the killer arrived with the body at the dock. They needed to find the weapon and they needed to find the primary crime scene.

He'd let the police look for a while. But if they came up empty-handed, he'd take a whack at it himself.

In the meantime, he had work to do to keep his company running. Once he finished, he'd have time to think of his rendezvous with Olivia tonight at the Fisherman's Catch.