Alive at 5 (Entangled Ignite) (17 page)

“You were really thinking about how much your camera cost while you were staring a shark in the mouth?” She didn’t believe it for a second.

“Truthfully?”

“Yeah.”

“Actually, I was peeing my wet suit.”

Laughter exploded around her, and she couldn’t help herself. She laughed, too. “So, you won the tug of war with the tiger?”

“Damn right!”

“Why did he pick on you?”

George pointed to his left ankle. His wet suit had been slashed, and he was bleeding.

“I stumbled over some shit on the ocean bottom and cut myself. The cut isn’t bad, but I guess the blood was enough to make that big baby come sniff me out.” He turned away from her and addressed his fans. “I’m dying to see video of the attack. I don’t know if my camera was still functional at that point. Anyone else shoot video or take pictures?”

She stepped back through the crowd. George obviously didn’t need her help. He was a rock star, and she’d let him have his fifteen seconds.

“Hey, Sam.”

She whipped back around.

“How’s Zack?” George asked sheepishly.

“Oh,
now
you remember your dive partner?”

His skin was already so red it was hard to tell if he was blushing.

“He’s okay, right? I saw him shoot toward the surface. Couldn’t tell what was wrong, and I was a little preoccupied at the time.”

She waved him off. “He’s fine and ready to hear your big shark story.” Both men had faced death and survived. And there was no obvious way to tie either incident to Robert, or any other potential killer, and yet—

She felt his gaze before she actually saw him. Robert Fitzpatrick stood across the deck, eye behind the camera, snapping pictures of the group of men behind her. Or was he shooting pictures of her? The muscles in her upper back tightened.

Slowly he moved the camera down so his face could be seen. A lopsided, sarcastic grin uglied his already distasteful face.

She couldn’t fight off the shivers. She could just call him out right here, right now. Tell George and the handful of men behind her what she’d found out about Robert. He was lying about his name. He’d snapped intimate pictures of her and Zack with the intention of blackmailing her. He had tried to kill her.

But she didn’t have enough proof to tie him to the murder of Jackson Hunter, Michael Flint, or Maxwell. Hell, maybe he’d killed Scott Fitzpatrick, too. Robert had said he hated the rich and Scott had been rich beyond her wildest imagination. Maybe his rich relative had refused to share the wealth. That would be motive. And killing Flint would have been necessary if he’d been onto Robert.

The snake continued to stare at her from across the deck. His eyes had narrowed to slits, and his bald head shone in the fading afternoon light.

An uneasy feeling washed over her as she caught him exchanging his camera for what had to be a satellite phone. She’d already found out cell phones didn’t work way out here. So, that was how Robert was communicating with the mainland. Her stomach dropped, thinking about her mother’s safety. Who could he be talking to? Her mouth went dry as she remembered one of the things he had said to her below deck.

“
Only doing what I’m told.”

Her fingers flew to her throat. Who had told Robert to put his hands around her neck and squeeze until she couldn’t breathe? The person he was talking to right now? Or had he made the decision to kill her on his own?

Unconsciously, she rubbed her throat. Identifying him was clearly only the first step to solving this mystery. But whether he was the ringleader or not, he was obviously ready, willing, and able to commit murder.

Forget about killer sharks.

She was trapped in the middle of the ocean with a
real
monster.

Chapter Twenty

“Man overboard!”

That was the captain’s voice. Below deck, Zack stopped dead in his tracks. His stomach dropped. Spinning around, he bolted for the galley, where he’d last seen Samantha. He knew she was likely safe with George, but a growing concern drove him forward. He shouldn’t have let her out of his sight, not even for a minute. The last time he’d let a partner wander off—

“Hey, George.” Zack bumped into several vacationers as he tried to reach the cameraman. George was in the line of men heading out of the salon where they’d been watching the shark attack video. “Where’s Samantha?”

She should have been hugging George’s waist or holding his hand, dammit. She had told him what that asshole Fitzpatrick had attempted when she’d checked on him a while ago. It was no longer safe on board for any of them.

George stepped out of the fast-moving line. “I thought she was with you.”

The two men stared at each other for a short, meaningful moment. Zack’s throat felt like it was closing up.
Shit!
They both bolted toward the companionway. On deck, the glare of harsh white spotlights forced Zack to squint. The sun had set and a strong night breeze blasted him with sea salt. Blinking back the burn, he allowed his eyes to adjust and took in the situation. The captain’s assistant stood on the dive platform. The man’s back was straight as he pointed toward an object in the water. Zack wasn’t close enough to make out what was floating. He shoved his way through the crowd.

In the circle of a spotlight, a body floated face down. Female. But it was her white T-shirt with distinct lettering across its back that caused his heart to seize.

“No! Fuck!”

The University of South Florida T-shirt was the one Samantha had been wearing earlier.

“Shit, that can’t be Sam.” George pushed to the front.

“Not sure.” Zack’s knees felt as if they’d give out on him.

“She’s not moving.” George’s voice cracked.

“I’m going in.”

“Me, too.”

Zack headed toward the lockers that held the dive gear.

“Wait. The boat is powering up.” A crewmember grabbed Zack with a firm hand. “The captain will maneuver closer to the body.”

The body
. Zack closed his eyes in absolute disbelief.
He’d failed again
. The pain searing his center was just as bad as when his uncle had died. He ripped the crewmember’s fingers off his upper arm. “I said I’m going in.”

“You can’t,” the crewmember ordered. “It’s too dangerous while the boat’s moving. We’ll need hands to lift her onboard, anyway.”

“Plenty of people on deck to do that.” Zack looked back at the rippling ocean. “She’s drifting too fast.” The spotlight had already lost her to the darkness. “I’ll stay with her while you bring the ship around.”

Again, a firm grip cut into his skin. “I can’t let anyone go in. Captain’s orders.”

Another crewmember approached. “Head count shows two missing.”

“Two?” George frowned. Running a hand through his unruly mop of red hair, he turned toward the crowd. “Sam!” he yelled. “Where the hell are you?”

The buzz of the men topside died down temporarily, but Zack didn’t wait for a response. Instinctively, he knew there’d be none. Sprinting across the deck, he opened a locker and pulled out the scuba gear he’d used earlier.

He knew attempting a rescue this late at night, while the ship’s engines were on and the propellers spinning as the captain maneuvered closer to the body, was suicide. But what else could he do? He swallowed down the acid taste of bile and bitter guilt.

No time to react with emotion. He suited up quickly, the layers going on like armor, shielding his heart from reality. He had been wrong to let Samantha follow him undercover, wrong to let George dive with him, wrong to let himself care about Samantha, and wrong to enjoy seducing her. Wrong on all accounts.

Guilty as charged
.

And because of him, she could be dead.

…

Sam heard the
man overboard
call. She knew it couldn’t be George. From the bathroom, she could hear him holding court in the salon. She couldn’t believe these men were still watching the video of his wrestling match with the shark. Alcohol must be involved. They’d already watched it twice.

But the video had suddenly silenced, and there were running footsteps on deck. She poked her head out of the bathroom to see what was going on. Just in time to see Robert Fitzpatrick slip effortlessly in with a few stragglers heading topside. She almost went after him, but stopped as a plan flashed into her mind. She checked left.
No one
. Right.
No one
. Everyone was up on deck. If her heart would stop smacking her chest, she might be able to do this without getting caught.

Moving quickly to the center bunk she knew was Robert’s, she searched the area, looking for one thing—his satellite phone. She needed to call her boss and fill him in on what was happening. And she wanted to make sure her mom was okay.

She also intended to call Stuart Johnson and let him know about the attempt on her life. She’d give the Pasco County detective Robert’s full name and address and see what he could dig up. Contacting law enforcement would not only point a finger in case something happened to her, George, or Zack, but it would relieve some of the culpability she was feeling. The three of them knew too much. If someone else got hurt, or God forbid died, she would hold herself partially responsible for not disclosing important information just so she could get an exclusive news story and keep her damn job.

Her fingers found a hard metal box tucked into a corner below Fitzpatrick’s bunk.
Jackpot
. She paused and listened, half expecting Robert to suddenly appear as he had yesterday. When she heard nothing suspicious, she pulled the box out. It wasn’t locked. Odd…

Before going on this trip, she would likely have been feeling a full-blown anxiety attack by this point, too scared to search Robert’s stuff again. Now, she felt like a stronger woman, more self-assured, not as afraid, ready to do what was right, no matter the cost.

She opened the box and found the phone inside. She smiled in triumph. Zack would be so proud of her. Now they could call for backup.

…

Three-foot swells in the pitch black sea made finding Samantha impossible. The spotlight continued its dance across the black blanket of water, but the crew couldn’t hold the light on her body due to the angry tossing of the waves. The winds were kicking up something fierce.

Zack was tiring too quickly because of his accident earlier in the day. His muscles screamed with exhaustion. He was starting to feel dizzy and disoriented when a good-sized wave tumbled him. Rolling over and over in total confusion, he knew his only chance at survival was to use what strength he had left to swim back to the ship.

He had failed her, failed himself, and the self-loathing made his stomach sicker with each watery toss.

He should just let go. Join her in this dark abyss, and never have to worry about failing anyone again. He started to relax, his body giving in.

No. No!
His conscience screamed at him.

He couldn’t do it. He had to get back on that boat and finish what he’d started. The anguish he felt over losing Samantha would be his punishment, a lifelong pain branded on his heart.

He kicked and began to swim. With the waves smacking the side of the ship, it would be hard to get back on board. Looking up at the blurry faces of the men leaning over the side, Zack wondered if fate would have him die here tonight in a watery grave with a woman who had started to trust him.

A woman who had finally convinced him to start trusting himself.

The woman he had started to fall in love with.

…

Sam pushed her way through the men topside, searching for George and Zack. It didn’t take long to locate George. The crowd moved aside to let her through, whispering in her wake. Why were they parting like the Red Sea and looking at her like she was Moses?

She got to George and tapped his shoulder. He jumped as though she’d shocked him with a police Taser.

“Where’s Zack?” she yelled above the wind.

“Sam! Jesus Christ!” George pulled her into a tight hug, squeezing her until she couldn’t breathe.

“What is wrong with you?” She struggled to speak against his chest. She had to shove him to get him to let go a little. “Why is everyone acting so weird?”

George’s eyes glowed like white saucers in the night sky. “We thought the man overboard was
you
.”

She stepped back, and the rocking of the ship almost knocked her sideways. Reaching out to grab George, she righted herself. “Why would you think that?”

“Because the man overboard is a
woman
. Wearing a USF T-shirt.” George hugged her again. “I saw the body bobbing in the ocean before the spotlight lost it. She even looked the same size as you. I can’t believe you’re alive.”

Sam froze. “Omigod. Jenny!” Her heart sank at the realization that the sweet young girl had fallen overboard. Or had she been pushed? Maybe someone thought Jenny had been her.

“Jenny?” George was yelling to be heard above the roar of the water and wind.

“The cook who jumped in to help Zack and got a bloody nose. She was soaking wet and I gave her my shirt.”

“They said two people were missing.” George yelled, turning to face the sea again, an eerie slump to his body.

She fell against him, guilt assaulting her.
Jenny was dead
. A dark object bobbed in the water below them, in danger of being smashed against the stern by the waves. “Wait. That’s not Jenny.”

“No,” George yelled. “It’s Zack. And we’re having trouble getting him back on board.”

…

Zack’s body had been battered repeatedly in the effort to bring him on board. He felt like he’d been run over by a tank.

They finally flipped him up over the rail, and he rolled on the deck until his tanks, heavy on his back, stopped him from moving. A sharp pain hit him under his right lung. He held his breath. He knew he was close to passing out.

Hands all over him expertly removed his scuba gear.

“Zack?”

Now he was hallucinating Samantha’s voice. Would that sound be stuck in his head forever? The guilt would kill him if this last dive didn’t.

“Answer me.”

Or maybe he’d died and this was heaven. Though it sure as hell didn’t feel like puffy clouds under him.

“Are you okay?”

Someone finally removed his mask, and he blinked several times to clear the sting and the blur.

“You jumped in to save me,” she said.

Samantha! But how?

His breath caught when her lovely, pale face came into focus. She was on her knees next to him, very much alive, peering down at him with those big, beautiful, brown eyes. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you.” She threw herself onto him, cradling his wet and shivering body in her arms.

Her body was shaking, too. He wanted to hug her back and squeeze her until she was just as breathless as he was, but his arms felt like heavy logs.

“It was Jenny.” Her warm breath was at his ear. “She fell overboard, not me.”

He managed a small nod, feeling guilty at the joy rushing through him. He tried to move his mouth again.

Her voice was still right at his ear. “What? I can’t hear you.”

“Where were you? Why did you leave my side? Never, ever leave my side again,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry.” She kissed him on his forehead, and her warm lips on his chilled skin caused him to shiver. “I found Robert’s satellite phone.”

With a curse, he hauled himself up onto one elbow, stars dancing before him. “Help me up.”

She shook her head, a firm hand on his shoulder pushing him back down. “Lie still a minute. Let the doc check you out. You almost drowned.”

He struggled onto his side and then to his knees. A chorus of voices chimed in, but he couldn’t understand any of them. His attention was focused solely on Samantha. “Have you used it yet?” he whispered to her. “The sat phone?”

“No. I couldn’t figure out how.”

“Good.”

“Good?” She frowned, offering a hand to help him up. “Did you hit your head?”

“Hey, are you okay?” George joined them, squatting down to help by putting his hands under Zack’s armpits. “I’m going to help you up slowly, man. Let me know if it’s too much.”

As he was lifted, a sharp pain ignited his right side. Not fucking good. He’d probably bruised a rib. He held his breath, but it didn’t assuage the fiery pain. He let out a curse.

“I’m putting you back down.” George started to lower him.

“No.” Zack wobbled on his feet, but did manage to stand on his own. “I need you to get me to my bunk.”

“I think the captain wants to talk to you first,” a voice rang out. “And the doc.”

Great.
He gestured for Samantha to come closer.

“Who did you plan to call?” But Zack already knew the answer.

“The authorities,” she whispered. “Someone needs to know what’s going on out here. Especially now that Jenny has died. This is crazy. You almost died twice today.”

She tried to touch his face. He pulled away. He had to make her understand. “The captain already called the Coast Guard.” He swung his arm around George’s shoulder and motioned him to start walking. The crowd that had gathered around them made way.

“Well, I’m calling my detective friend, too,” she said over the chattering of the crowd.

Zack checked around to see if anyone had picked up on that, but it was hard to tell. “You can’t do that,” he said with a ferocity he hoped would stop the conversation for now. Jesus, she was about to blow it big time.

“Why not?” she demanded. “You’re a cop yourself.”

“Can you say that a little louder?” he ground out. “Not sure everyone heard you.”

“So?” She wasn’t even trying to hide their conversation.

“So, there’s something you’re forgetting.” He braced for her reaction.

“What?” She threw up her hands.

“Can we
please
take this below deck so we’re not causing a scene?” Even talking hurt like hell, let alone walking. What happened to the woman who was cradling his head like he was her dying lover?