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Was it the water police?
Or Border Force?
A nosy fucker trying to get the jump on my fortune?
Dragging my air hose behind me, I maintained my depth below the surface and swam like I had a white pointer on my ass.
As I aimed for Rhino’s hull, brutal memories from my mother’s death flooded my mind, and my chest squeezed. She was murdered twenty-two years ago, and although I’d only been eleven years old, I could still recall every detail.
Shoving those soul-crushing memories away, I forced my brain to focus. Not concentrating while I was still twelve feet below the surface was a bad idea.
As I smoothly kicked my fins, I mentally mapped out what that boat could see of Rhino from its position. Gradually rising higher and hoping they wouldn’t notice my bubbles, I adjusted my direction to give them a wide berth and aimed for the opposite side of Rhino.
I waited until I was directly beneath the rubber dinghy secured to the portside deck, which would be hidden from view of the other boat, before I surfaced. Over the noise of the air compressor at the stern, voices drifted to me, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I removed the breather from my lips and lifted the metal detector onto the deck.
Hoping that Dad and the visitor would think I was still in the water, I draped my air hose over a hook so the bubbles continued to flow into the water. I removed my fins and carefully placed my net bag onto the deck so I didn’t break the china plate. While still in the water, I removed my wetsuit and then pushed the cumbersome material onto the deck.
Keeping my head low, I hauled myself up next to the dinghy, and using the bulky crane base for cover, I dashed to the back wall of the hut. The voices became more distinct, but I still couldn’t understand the conversation between Dad and the other man.
While I hoped the unwanted guest was just an innocent fisherman, for some reason, my gut told me otherwise. I’d learned to listen to my intuition a long time ago, and nearly every single time, I was right.
I couldn’t reach my gun without them seeing me, so I searched for another weapon. Several knives were in the drawers beneath the sink, but they were useless unless I was in close contact.
The flare gun!
I crept along the wall, opened the safety equipment box, and pulled out the flare gun. I pushed a flare into the barrel and tucked another one into the bikini string across my hip.
With my heart pounding, I kept the gun concealed against my thigh as I rounded the corner of the hut, aiming for the voices.
The other man laughed, and I jerked to a stop.
Son of a bitch! That’s Kane Devlin! What the hell is he doing here?
Clutching the flare gun against my thigh, I strode out of the hut and crossed through the bridge to Rhino’s other side.
“Dad!” I marched toward him with rage coursing through me. He knew how much I hated Kane fucking Devlin.
Dad spun to me, and his wide eyes confirmed he knew he was in trouble.
I marched to the rear deck and jabbed the stop button on the compressor. The ensuing silence was deafening.
“What the hell’s going on?” Storming back to Dad’s side, I glared at the bastard on the other boat who had taught me just how ruthless humans could be.
Kane put one foot on his boat’s siding.
“Hi, Indiana,” he drawled, his voice drifting to me over the lap of waves slapping Rhino’s side.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I shouted across the distance.
“You’re looking good.” He dodged my question. It was one of his traits that used to piss me off.
“Cut the crap, Kane.” I spat his name like he was a bad curse. “What do you want?”
His sandy blond hair tousled in the breeze and shimmered in the golden sun above. “I was just in the area.”
“Bullshit. I thought you were in Europe.”
“I was. But I’m back.” He was as casual as a shark circling prey, yet he looked like a million dollars. His boat did, too. That vessel was a massive upgrade from his previous one.
