Troubled Waters (7 page)

“Oh,” she sighed as she stepped to his side in front of the fire. “Thank you. It was getting a little chilly in here.”

He would have loved to wrap his arms around her again, but he didn’t want to scare her away. She’d already placed so much trust in him—trust he knew he hadn’t really earned, since he was pushing her to open up to further his investigation.

Besides, he knew they needed to keep talking. Jonas wouldn’t be nearly satisfied with what he’d learned so far tonight. And with a killer on the loose, they needed information—fast. But Tracie was proving to be a complex woman. Heath knew he’d have to be careful, especially after all she’d shared with him so far. Fortunately, she spared him the work of finding an opening line.

“Could I ask a favor of you?” she asked in a tentative voice.

“Of course.”

“Could we pray together? I just feel so overwhelmed by all of this, but I know God is in charge. He can handle it, if I can just figure out how to let Him.”

Her words seemed to suck all the air from the room. Heath wasn’t sure how to respond. So far, he’d knowingly misled her, but he hadn’t had to fake the attraction he felt toward her. Faking a relationship with God was something else entirely. Mission or not, he didn’t know how he could do it. Surely she’d understand if he told her the truth?

“I don’t—” he hesitated. What if she hated him? No, he had to trust her. He had to be honest about that much, at least. “I don’t really pray.”

Cold air swept in to fill the void as Tracie took a step back and looked up at him. The warmth that had grown in her eyes all evening now faded, replaced by a distant, distrustful expression. No, Tracie didn’t hate him. She was afraid of him.

As Tracie stared at Heath, she had to remind herself that she didn’t really know him. He’d arrived in Bayfield on Thursday. Today was Tuesday. They’d known each other six days, and she’d grown impossibly close to him in that short time period. But she didn’t know him—obviously not. How could she have just assumed that because he’d
gone to church on Sunday, because he’d said he’d gone to church as a child, that somehow made him a Christian? She needed to be more careful.

“I’m sorry. I just assumed—”

“No,
I’m
sorry. That came out all wrong. It’s not that I don’t believe in God.” He started to raise his hands in a hopeless gesture, then flinched and grabbed his injured arm.

“Oh, no.” she led him to the couch. “Do you need an ice pack for that?”

“It’ll be okay,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’m getting an ice pack,” she said, already halfway to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine,” he called after her, but the pain in his voice belied his words.

Tracie hurried back and sat close on the couch beside him, pressing the ice pack to his wound and shushing his protests. “You’ve got to take care of yourself,” she chided him. “You’re supposed to protect me, remember? How can you do that if you’re too injured to be of any use?”

He didn’t answer her question, but looked her straight in the eye. “I do believe in God, Tracie. I want you to understand that. I grew up in the church. I know there’s a God out there, somewhere, and I’d like to believe we’re working for the same team.”

She cringed internally at the words
out there
and
somewhere
. For her, God wasn’t
out there
. He was in her heart, closer than any person. She wished Heath could understand that, but she wasn’t sure how to explain it to him without pushing him farther away. She prayed silently for guidance. “How can you work together if you never talk?”

A light seemed to come on in Heath’s eyes, but he said
nothing, so she continued. “Prayer is talking to God, it’s reporting for duty. It’s like God is Jake, and the Bible is our field manual.”

Heath’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I think you’ve just given Jake a tremendous promotion.”

“It’s an analogy.” She smiled back, then sobered. “I’m glad you believe in God. I wish you knew Him personally.” She’d assumed he had, or she wouldn’t have allowed herself to fall for him. Now it tore at her heart to know she was starting to care for a man whom she couldn’t have a future with. Her faith was central to her life. Any man who wanted to be romantically involved with her would have to feel the same way.

Heath readjusted the ice pack on his arm with a thoughtful expression before he said, “I guess I just never understood the point.”

“Of prayer?” she clarified.

He sighed. “Yeah. Think about it—God loves us, right?”

“Yes.”

“And so He wants what’s best for us?”

“Of course.” Tracie wondered where he was going with his line of questioning.

“So why do we have to ask? Why doesn’t God just automatically do what’s in our best interest? How could our asking ever change His will?”

Tracie leaned back and looked deep into Heath’s eyes. Sincere struggle shined back at her. And she couldn’t think of an answer. “I don’t know.” She exhaled a defeated sigh and tried to think of some explanation. She knew deep in her heart there had to be one, but her mind drew a complete blank. Looking around the room as if for answers, her eyes rested on the clock. Five minutes to seven. She
squinted. There was something significant about that time. Something she was supposed to be doing.

Suddenly she leapt off the couch and ran for her shoes. “I’ve got to go!”

“G
o where?” Heath asked, leaping up and following her to where he’d left his boots.

“Class. I’ve got class in five minutes at the Bayfield rec center.” She pulled on her parka and started patting the many pockets. “Keys. Where are my keys?”

Heath pulled his out his own keychain. “I’ll drive. I’ve got you blocked in anyway.”

With an authoritative nod, Tracie agreed and leapt for the door. “We have to hurry.”

She goaded him on for the entire short trip back into Bayfield, directing him to the quickest route and fretting about the falling snow until they reached the looming wooden activity center at the foot of the bluff just a couple of blocks from the Coast Guard station. He barely had his truck in park before she opened her door and leapt out.

“Am I welcome?” he asked, following her inside.

She cast one of her trademark gorgeous smiles over her shoulder. “Of course.”

Heath felt himself grinning as he followed her. He had no idea what this class was she had led him to, but he found the mini-mystery just as intriguing as the woman in front of him, and just another part of her allure. Then he entered the gymnasium and stopped short.

The large open space was filled with women, many of them at least seventy years old. With so many venerable ladies in the crowd, Heath wondered which one of them would be teaching the class. He hung back along the wall and watched with interest.

Tracie peeled off her coat and addressed the crowd. “Sorry I’m late. Shall we get started with our stretching? All right, line up.”

As Heath watched, not just a little bit surprised, the women in brightly-colored sweatsuits formed ranks facing Tracie. Before his eyes, she led them through a series of stretches, leading up to a slow-motion routine of kicks and thrusts. It took Heath a few minutes to figure out exactly what was going on, but when Tracie starting instructing the ladies on eye-jabs and kicks to the knee, neck and groin, he realized she was teaching them self-defense kickboxing.

The room rang out with synchronized grunts as Heath watched, impressed, while Tracie ran the ladies through their drills. Then she had them pair up and pretend to attack each other.

“Remember,” Tracie called out above the clamor, “you never want to place yourself in a position where you have to use these moves. Avoid dangerous situations. If you have the opportunity, run away. But if it comes down to your life or your attacker’s, do not be a victim. You have the knowledge. You have the ability to defend yourself.”

The hour sped by quickly as Heath watched the ladies work through their exercises. As the minute hand moved closer to the twelve, the women began to cajole Tracie.

“Will you do a bag routine for us tonight?”

“Show us those high kicks you do.”

“You got here late, so you can stay late, can’t you?”

Their good-natured tones, as well as Tracie’s reluctant
smiles, told Heath she’d probably give in, as he guessed she did often.

But Tracie shook her head. “Really ladies, this is about you, not me.”

“I know what it is,” a stout woman in a purple sweatsuit declared. “She doesn’t want to do a routine in front of her boyfriend.”

That wiped the smile from Tracie’s face. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she denied, her face red. “He’s my partner.”

Heath was surprised at how much her public rejection stung, and he realized he’d begun to think of her as something more. But he quickly chastised himself for feeling that way. He wasn’t going to be in her life for very long. It was better that she not think about him in close terms.

The same purple-suited woman chided her. “You young folks and your political correctness. Partner!” she harrumphed. “He’s my
Coast Guard
partner,” Tracie clarified.

“Well, maybe he’d like to do the drill with you,” another woman suggested, and several others agreed emphatically.

Heath couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across his face. He straightened and slowly approached Tracie.

She watched him with wide eyes. “No. I don’t think that would be wise. I mean, he’s injured, for one thing. And he hasn’t signed the participant’s waiver.”

“Oh, you know that’s just so none of us will sue you if we get hurt,” the purple-suited woman called out. “He’s not going to get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” another woman reprimanded her.

Heath strode closer to Tracie, trying to make up his mind how to stage his attack.

She shook her head at him as he approached. “No,
Heath,” she warned him. “You’re injured. Not a good idea.”

He met her eyes and tried to see into her soul. Was she really afraid of him? If she was, he wouldn’t push it. He’d walk away, and bear the brunt of the booing from the ladies that was sure to follow. “So don’t hit me on my arm,” he said simply.

Her expression formed a half smirk. She was considering it. No, she wanted to, though her fear of hurting him was holding her back. He didn’t care if he got hurt. He was more than curious to see what she could do. He took one final step closer, telling himself that if she turned him down again, he’d walk away.

But before that exchange could take place, she surprised him with a swift roundhouse kick to his ribs, followed at blinding speed by a back kick in his calf, which knocked his foot out from under him, sending him down on one knee.

As the ladies watching erupted with applause, Tracie took a bow.

“Thank you,” she answered jovially. “That concludes your demonstration.”

Feeling inspired, Heath hopped up behind her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. He almost smiled when her elbow flew back and her open palm caught him underneath the chin. She was good—fast, powerful and so sly he had yet to anticipate a single move before she hit him. Impressive.

The ladies cheered as Tracie swept his feet out from under him and he went down a second time.

“Okay,” he said, standing, “now that I know what you can do, I think I’ll have to fight back.”

“Heath,” Tracie shook her head at him, but she was grinning openly now, and easily blocked the jabs he sent
her way. He wished he didn’t have to worry about his arm. They could have had a lot of fun together otherwise.

As it was, they sparred for another full minute before Heath finally managed to knock Tracie off her feet. When he offered her a hand up, it didn’t occur to him that she might try to pull him down until he was lying flat on the mat beside her.

The ladies hooted and hollered, and Heath recognized the voice that chided sarcastically, “
Partners,
right.”

Tracie laughed as she rolled onto her side, but she asked in a serious tone, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I keep trying to tell you I’m invincible. I don’t know why you don’t believe me.” He rose and kept a watchful eye on her as she ended the class, until she had her coat on and was headed out of the building at his side. “That was fun,” he said as they stepped into the chill of the night air.

“Yeah. I needed a break.” Tracie stopped still and looked up into the frantic snow that swirled from the sky all around them. The cold front had moved in with a vengeance, and had already dumped a couple of inches of snow on the ground since they’d been inside.

“Nice weather,” he noted, stopping beside her and blinking into the blizzard. “Not bad.”

“Think Jake will postpone Sal’s transfer tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. He’s moved it twice already.”

“I wish he would,” Heath confessed. “After what we found today, I’d like a shot at questioning Sal about the submarine.”

Tracie said nothing, but sighed and headed for the passenger side of his truck. He opened her door for her before climbing in the other side and driving into the blizzard in silence. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hmm?” She gave him a distant look.

“Something’s troubling you.”

He sensed Tracie squirming on the seat beside him, but he kept his eyes on the road. Between the darkness and the blinding snow, he didn’t dare look away, even for a moment. He slowed the vehicle to a crawl, unable to see the lines on the road.

“You are so different from Trevor,” she observed in a wistful voice.

“That a good thing?”

She made a sound that was half laughter, half derisive snort. “In every way good. Trevor would never have noticed if something was bothering me. Or if he did, he’d accuse me of being a moody female.”

Heath had heard enough from Tracie to suspect her dislike for her partner went deeper than his lack of sensitivity. “That wasn’t the worst of it, was it?”

The swallowing sound in her throat was audible, her voice barely so. “Not by a long shot.”

“Care to tell me?”

“I don’t complain.”

“It wouldn’t be complaining.”

She sat silently for so long, Heath feared she wasn’t going to continue their conversation at all. He nudged her gently. “Tracie, if Trevor really is alive, and if he’s the one who took a shot at us the other day, I’d feel a whole lot more comfortable if I knew what threats he might have made against you in the past. Because if he decided to act on one, we’d have a lot better chance of pulling through if we both had an idea of what to expect.”

“Good point,” she acknowledged, though she still sat in silence as they crawled down the road for another couple of minutes. Finally she offered, “I learned self-defense because of Trevor.”

“To protect yourself from him?”

“Yes.”

“That bad, huh?”

“He was pretty upset when I rejected him. He kept trying to get me alone after that, where there weren’t witnesses. When we had to be alone, I kept my hand on my radio and made sure he knew it. That didn’t stop him from trying whatever he could get away with. As long as he figured I couldn’t prove it, he’d try it. Of course, he was always perfect whenever anyone else was around.”

Heath felt her fear and humiliation and wished he could go back in time and protect her. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Why didn’t you report him? Ask to be paired with someone else?”

“Would that have stopped him?” Tracie asked. “In my experience, making him angry only made things worse—he’d become more determined, more insidious. Besides, I’m not a quitter. I don’t expect special treatment just because I’m a woman.”

“But he only harassed you because you’re a woman,” Heath reminded her, frustrated that she’d had no escape from Trevor’s ongoing abuse.

“It’s not as though I did nothing,” Tracie reminded him. “I learned self-defense. And you can believe if he’d tried anything when there were witnesses, I’d have reported him immediately. But he made sure it never would have been anything except his word against mine. He’s cruel, but he’s not stupid.”

“Did you ever use your moves on him?”

“Not really,” she shrugged. “It helped to know how to be quick and evasive, but that’s it. I think about him sometimes when I run through a drill, about how I would defend myself from him, but I wonder if I’d have the guts to do it in a real-life situation.”

“I hope you never have to find out.” Her failure to remind him of Trevor’s supposed death didn’t elude his attention. She’d apparently come to grips with the possibility. Heath was glad for that. If she
did
have to face the man, knowing ahead of time he was still around would make the experience slightly less traumatic.

They reached Tracie’s house through the blinding snow. Heath wished it had been a longer trip so he’d have had an excuse to keep her talking. But since he had to drive back through the blizzard to get back to his apartment in Bayfield, he knew he didn’t dare stick around much longer. Both of them were tired.

With the vehicle in park, he took Tracie’s hand and met her eyes. “I’m sorry you had such an awful experience with Trevor. It makes me appreciate what a chance you took trusting me.”

“I had to believe not all partners are awful.”

“Can I walk you to your door?”

“I think I can make it. You’ve got a long trip ahead of you.” She gave his hand a slight squeeze before dropping it and hopping out of the truck. Heath watched Gunnar come barreling through the doggie door to greet her as she approached the house.

Loneliness swept over him as he watched Tracie play with the dog a moment before unlocking her front door and letting them in. She hadn’t even wished him good-night.

Heath knelt beside his bed and folded his hands, a position he hadn’t assumed in over twenty years. But he’d decided since his conversation with Tracie that he was going to pray, and all his memories of what his nannies had taught him included kneeling to say his bedtime prayers.

“Dear God,” he began, feeling self-conscious and awkward. “Heath here. I know it’s been a while since I checked
in, but there’s a killer on the loose, after us. And I don’t know…” He sighed, feeling a thousand times more foolish already. Was God even listening to him?

He felt just as he had as a child, knocking tentatively on his father’s office door, waiting for a gruff “come in,” before daring to turn the knob and make his request. So often, his father hadn’t even looked up from whatever he’d been working on. “Ask your mother,” he’d told him so many times, and Heath had gone to her, only to have her say, “Aren’t you a big boy now? Can’t you do that yourself?”

The lesson had been deeply ingrained. If he wanted anything, it was up to him. His parents worked hard to keep a roof over his shoulders and food on the table. Surely God was much the same, hard at work running the universe, too busy to be bothered by Heath’s concerns.

He hopped into bed and stared at the ceiling. “I want to know You,” he whispered into the dark.

But there was no answer, and he soon fell asleep.

Standing outside the Coast Guard station the next morning, Heath flexed his fingers in frustration, wishing he could be alone with the prisoner long enough to ask him about the submarine. Though Captain Sal had been questioned several times during his incarceration, he’d refused to reveal anything about his involvement in the diamond-smuggling ring, or even whether he’d been the one to shoot Trevor. But without evidence, a confession, or even a body, Sal couldn’t be charged with Trevor’s murder. Since he was wanted in Canada on several greater charges, he was being transferred. They’d have to cut through a lot of red tape before Heath could again come so close to talking to him.