Wicked Tempest: A Kate Waters Mystery (Kate Waters Mysteries Book 2) (9 page)

“Hello?”

“John, it’s Wells. I have a quick question.”

“I’ll try to promise you a quick answer, but you know how it is.”

He was in another one of his goofy moods, and Wells imagined that that would change after he heard what he had to say.

“What are the chances that two people would have the same shape, size, color, and location of Lichtenberg’s Flowers?”

“Probably pretty slim,” he replied. “Burn marks are like snowflakes, each one is different from another due to the varying currents of electricity, each person’s individual body mass, temperature outside, all that stuff. Why do you ask?”

“I have two pictures of two different deceased individuals, both of whom died in the last week, and both of whom share almost identical burn marks on the back of their necks.”

“Are you sure they are Lichtenberg’s Flowers and not something else? Say scars from physical trauma or even tattoos?”

“They were reported as high voltage burns in both autopsies. Jim Kelley and Brooke Jennings. I think Jim was taken into Providence, but due to the questionable nature of his case, I have access to the reports.”

John cleared his throat. “I can take a look at the autopsy reports, see if anything stands out, something that may have been overlooked.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Wells said. “Another thing, Jim was found on the same beach where Brooke was visiting at that same time. She died almost a week later.”

“So what are the chances of two people having almost identical burn patterns on the back of their necks, a possible physical encounter, and who died just days apart from each other?” John reiterated.

“Exactly,” Wells said.

“Slim, my friend. Very slim. You might want to check back with forensics then if that’s the case.”

Wells said good-bye and hung up the phone. A twisting sensation knotted in his gut. He grabbed both files from his desk and slipped them into his leather case. The reports mentioned a female called in Jim Kelley’s death. Wells wondered if Brooke’s cell phone usage would reflect the time and location of that call. If so, he had a direct connection between her and Jim. Definitely enough reason to change the status of her case to potential homicide.

Kate whirled around in the charcoal-green waters. A cold, thick viscous oblivion surrounded her. Everywhere she looked, only the dark green of nothingness spanned out in the vast ocean space. No one she could see, not even the beams from flashlights, just emptiness in every direction. Her breathing quickened, becoming an uncontrollable wheeze no matter how she fought to control it, but with only 25 percent oxygen left in her tank, her life depended on it. As it was, it would be difficult to swim back to the boat.

A school of sockeye passed her on the right, some of them grazing against her legs. They eyed her from the side of their silvery, scaly heads, she the outsider, far from where she belonged. They disappeared back into the unknown, comfortable in the dark water.

Kate turned back to where Stewart and Linda had been, knowing she couldn’t go any farther in Nick’s and Barry’s direction. She started swimming upward as she headed back, still thinking about the way Nick and Barry had interacted with each other, how Nick had taken hold of Barry’s leg and how Barry had shoved Nick. What could they have possibly been fighting about 150 meters below the ocean’s surface?

There was still no sign of them behind her. Kate thought about ascending, but if she were several meters from the boat, they wouldn’t see her at the surface. She found the edge of the marine shelf and stopped to check her surroundings, sure that by now, she would start to see some light from Stewart and Linda. Her oxygen tank read 19 percent. She needed to head back to the boat or ascend. Swimming farther, she swayed her headlamp in front of her, keeping herself along the ridge, sure she could find her way back. Eventually, she would bump into Stewart and Linda.

Schools of fish collected around the area, rich with tall spindly seaweed, anemone, and deep-water coral. Clouds of fish darted away as though something were coming. Kate turned, prepared to greet Nick and Barry swimming up behind her. What she found instead was a dark form gliding too fast to be human. Instinctively, she knew it was a shark. Dread shot through her chest. She pushed herself back along the rock, trying to camouflage herself, but the shark headed straight toward her. It could smell her.

Kate wedged herself between sections of rock, hoping the shark couldn’t get to her. It swished through the water, then came up beneath her and bumped its head against her leg with a jarring force. Her face scraped against the rock. The sharp sting of a cut burned down her cheek. The shark circled around, came back to her, and shoved her from the rock with the smack of its tail. The force tossed her sideways into the open water. Vulnerable and exposed.

The shark swam where she couldn’t see it. Kate struggled to calm herself and worked to even her breathing. Her tank was now at 15 percent. She spun around in the water, jaw clamped tight on the regulator in her mouth—a surprise attack could force it from her mouth. She couldn’t lose it or any more air, and if she didn’t surface soon, the shark might as well finish her off.

It appeared to be about to do just that, as it swam back toward her, this time coming straight at her with an open jaw. All Kate saw were rows of jagged, serrated teeth. The shark came so close, she screamed into her regulator. Seconds before it reached her, it darted quickly to the side of her and back again, toying with her, as if it knew she were running out of air, and wanted to watch her slowly suffocate.

Instead, it slammed its nose into her shoulder when it passed again. The headlamp slipped from Kate’s head. Her breath came in fitful gasps she couldn’t stop. She curled herself up in a ball. Visions flashed before her, panicked thoughts of a bloody, violent death, being ripped to shreds and bleeding out profusely. She had been in a life-and-death position before, had hung dangerously from an icy cliff off Mt. Hood, had then been cornered by a giant wolf, and days later, stared down the barrel of a gun. This time wasn’t any easier, and like the rest, she thought this was the end. She was going to die.

The gut-wrenching realization that she had only minutes left to live burned in her chest like hot coals. Breath kicked from her lungs. She coughed into the regulator. The water around her face where she had cut it on the rock swirled with blood, further enticing the shark. Pain throbbed in her cheek from the salt water, but it wasn’t the pain that wrecked her thoughts—she couldn’t see the ridge anymore. She was lost in the dark ocean and hunted by a shark.

David…where are you?

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a wish to know what he was doing when she died. The thought of seeing him again moved her into another burst of motivation. She swiped her hands through the water, desperately searching for the rocky embankment. It was her only protection against the shark encircling her, teasing her like the barn cat does the mouse. She felt just as delicate and defenseless, ill-equipped to defend herself against such an advanced species. It was only a matter of time before the shark delivered its fatal bite.

A push came from behind Kate, and she swung around fearing the shark’s huge jaws biting down on her, but light flashed before her and something grabbed hold of her elbow. Kate cleared her mask and saw it was Nick. He noticed the shark. It twisted around and steered toward them. Nick moved himself in front of Kate and held up a sharp piece of rock. He swiped it through the water. The shark passed close by them. Now that there were two of them, the game wasn’t as easy. The shark increased its distance from them, and Nick motioned for the two of them to ascend to the surface.

Kate pointed to her oxygen gauge, which was now at 5 percent. Nick took out his regulator and passed it to her. Together, they shared his oxygen while they slowly swam upwards. Her ears pinched painfully under the changing pressure. Barry had come up behind them and followed. Nick signaled to him. Kate assumed it was the signal for shark, because Barry turned around and swiped his flashlight through the waters. Feeling calmer, Kate put her regulator back in her mouth. Nick grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him, back in the direction of the boat. The cut to the side of her face stung in the cold saltwater.

Ahead, Kate saw Stewart and Linda’s forms floating at the surface. The large white hull of the boat drifted toward them, creating a swirl of bubbles in the water. Kate glanced over her shoulder, making sure the shark hadn’t followed them. It was nowhere in sight, but she still had the feeling it circled around them, patrolling its territory.

At the surface, she pulled her mask down around her neck, eager to have fresh air and her head above water. She inhaled deeply, thankful to be alive and free of the deep blue.

“Your face is cut,” Nick said. “Are you all right?”

Kate nodded, still catching her breath.

“What are you doing picking fights with a shark?” He had a wide-eyed grin on his wet face. Strap lines had indented his cheeks and reddened his skin.

Kate tried to smile, but her emotions were heavy and tinged with fear and she could only manage a smirk. She still shook inside, had been so scared that a part of her wanted to cry.

Stewart and Linda swam toward them. “Was that a shark I saw down there?” Stewart asked. His face had the same red creases as Nick’s. He studied Kate’s face. “What happened to you?”

“The shark was picking on me,” Kate said.

“Knocked her around a few times,” Nick added.

“The cut’s not too deep,” Linda said. “I think we can patch it with some butterfly bandages on board.”

Kate caught Nick and Barry glancing at each other, silent words passing between them.

“That must have been scary,” Linda said to her.

“Yeah, but I think it was just trying to warn me. I was in its space.”

“That was a young one too,” Barry said. “You’re lucky. Those are usually the more aggressive ones.”

Kate breathed in another deep breath.

“You did the right thing,” Nick said. “Curling up, making yourself less of a threat.”

Kate hadn’t even remembered doing that. “It wasn’t so much an intelligent plan as it was an act of fright.”

Stewart shook his head. “Never a dull moment with you, Kate.”

Nick stared at Kate, his eyes glimmering gold like the sun on the water. “Is that so?”

“Seems to be that way,” Kate replied.

“You think this is exciting,” Stewart joked, “you should see her in the mountains.”

Nick laughed, one of those laughs that made others want to join in. It was a laugh like David’s. She missed him terribly at that moment and looked up at the break in the clouds above her, wishing he were there with her now and not a thousand miles away.

***

The smell of cedar filled the amber-laden cabin beneath the main deck of the Dawn Maiden. The craftsman layout design included an eating nook, sink and stove, closet bathroom, and two rows of bunk beds fitted neatly in a U-shaped design at the bow. Kate listened to the crew above deck, enjoying their Rogue River Dead Guy Ales. The sound of the boat’s engine muffled their laughter as they headed back to port. Stewart, Linda, Barry, and Nick had made one more dive that afternoon to place another network of cables ten miles from the last one where another small slide had occurred as a result of the Juan de Fuca earthquake. Kate had stayed on board with Bruce and Scott, babying the cut to her face and her bruised pride.

She looked in the mirror, inspecting the butterfly patch of tape Linda had doctored to her cheek. She had done a good job, and since the cut wasn’t deep, it shouldn’t leave much of a scar. Kate’s eyes dropped to her neck where the meteorite necklace used to hang before she took if off for the dive. Though she had only worn it for one day, she still felt bare without it. It was a reminder that everything was okay between her and David.

Her phone display showed one missed call. It was from David, and he had left a message. Kate listened to it as she pulled a sweater on. His voice soothed away small bits of her anxiety. He ended his call telling her that he missed her.

Kate sighed and hung up. She gathered her hair into a ponytail. Footsteps creaked behind her. Still shaken by the shark attack, she jumped slightly. It was Nick. He had changed into a white cotton tee and dark-blue jeans. His hair stuck up around his face, disheveled from a recent toweling, and it gave him even more of a youthful appearance, though the lines at his forehead and around his eyes suggested he was in his mid-forties.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, backing up a step.

“No, that’s okay. Just a little bit jumpy,” she replied. “Thanks for saving me down there.”

“It was nothing.” He tossed a black duffle bag onto one of the beds. “Is your cut all right?”

Kate touched the tape on her cheek. “Doesn’t hurt much.”

“Good,” he said, digging through his bag. He sorted equipment inside it. “That fella sure didn’t want you around.”

“Chalk that up to another reason why I don’t like diving.” Kate smiled, and the pull on her skin stung around her cut.

“That’s right,” Nick said. “You’d rather be climbing volcanoes.”

“Any day,” Kate replied. She filled a cup with water thinking about what had happened between him and Barry underwater. “Looked like you and Barry discovered a cave of some sort.”

Something passed over Nick’s face, blanking out his expression. He rolled a compass in his hand, seemingly to contemplate his thoughts.

“Barry likes to explore.”

“Isn’t that a little dangerous with the recent landslides?”

His eyes deepened, exploring hers. “That’s exactly what I told him, but I couldn’t let him go in there alone.”

A muted ring sounded from Kate’s purse. She checked the display. It was Thea, and she had flagged the call as urgent. “I’m sorry; I should probably take this call.”

“No worries. I’ll meet you back up on top.”

Kate smiled at him and then answered her phone. “Hello?” She peered out a round porthole in the cabin that captured the golden light of the setting sun on the water.

“Kate. We need to talk.”

About the valuable statue someone stole from your closet? Which you stole from a dead girl’s house?
“About what?” Kate asked.

“Someone stole the statue from my house. I’m sorry I lied. I did steal it from Brooke’s, but it was for everyone’s safety, only now, someone’s stolen it from me, and whoever it is, his or her life is in danger.”

At least she had finally admitted the truth, Kate thought, but ironically, she herself couldn’t, not just yet. She didn’t want to tell Thea until she could return the statue to the rightful owner, who might or might not be Andre.

“Kate?” Thea said.

“I’m still here, just thinking. I’m still on water.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you. It was never my intention.”

“So you think whoever has the statue now is going to die?” Why did she even ask? It was a question she didn’t care to know the answer to.

“Yes. The storm goddess will try to kill him or her…or them.”

“Because of the curse?”

“Exactly. I knew you would understand. The statue is of the Goddess Rán. She is a merciless Norse sea goddess, bringing death to those who steal her. The ship, the
El Oro Señora
, was the statue’s last known location, and it sank over two hundred years ago somewhere in the Pacific killing everyone on board. The people of the ship were cursed, and anyone who comes into contact with the statue—without taking proper measures to protect themselves—will die too.”