When buried secrets surface,

she’s caught in a criminal’s crosshairs.

Aquarium employee Olivia Smith isn’t sure why someone wants her dead—but Marine Corps pilot Brady Johnson knows a secret that could explain it. Brady vowed he’d tell no one that Olivia’s husband had been on the run from his own mob family before he died, but he also promised he’d keep Olivia safe. With danger running deep, they’ll have to work fast to stay alive.

KAREN KIRST was born and raised in east Tennessee near the Great Smoky Mountains. She’s a lifelong lover of books, but it wasn’t until after college that she had the grand idea to write one herself. Now she divides her time between being a wife, homeschooling mom and romance writer. Her favorite pastimes are reading, visiting tearooms and watching romantic comedies.

Also By Karen Kirst

Explosive Reunion

Intensive Care Crisis

Danger in the Deep

Love Inspired Historical

Smoky Mountain Matches

The Reluctant Outlaw

The Bridal Swap

The Gift of Family

“Smoky Mountain Christmas”

His Mountain Miss

The Husband Hunt

Married by Christmas

From Boss to Bridegroom

The Bachelor’s Homecoming

Reclaiming His Past

The Sheriff’s Christmas Twins

Wed by Necessity

The Engagement Charade

A Lawman for Christmas

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Danger in the Deep

Karen Kirst

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90086-1

DANGER IN THE DEEP

© 2020 Karen Vyskocil

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

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“Olivia? You here?”

A sense of urgency gripped him. Calling her name, he rounded the corner into the escalator area.

A reflection in the glass diverted his attention. Pivoting, he realized the out-of-place shadow was a person, sprawled at the bottom of the steep escalators. Long black hair fanned across the shiny floor grate. A ribbon of dark liquid glistened beneath her cheek.

Olivia.

She wasn’t moving.

Brady forced his leaden feet into motion. At her side, he fell to his knees and felt for a pulse. The breath whooshed from his lungs. Not dead.

“Olivia, can you hear me?” He searched for the blood source and discovered a deep gash behind her right ear.

She reacted to his probing fingers with an agonized moan.

“It’s me. Brady. I’m here to help.”

Her forehead pinched. When she attempted to sit up, she hissed and cradled her arm against her chest.

Brady reached out but didn’t touch her. “What happened?”

Glancing at the floor above, she grimaced. “Someone pushed me.”

Dear Reader,

The idea for this book’s setting came to me last year, when I had the opportunity to accompany my son on an overnight field trip to a local aquarium. There was something mysterious and exciting about being there after hours. I’ll never forget spending the night in the shark tunnel, watching the sharks and fish swim overhead as I drifted off to sleep. I shared my idea with our aquarium guide that night, and she agreed it would be a unique setting. I’m sure she was surprised to receive my email many months later asking if she’d agree to be a source of information for my book! I patterned Olivia’s aquarium after the one I visited, the Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga. However, I tweaked some aspects and obviously located it in North Carolina.

I hope you enjoyed Olivia and Brady’s journey. They were both interesting characters to explore and, I’ll admit, a bit of a challenge to bring together. Because she’s a recent widow, I worked hard to make their love story authentic and believable. If you’d like more information on my suspense or historical books, please visit my website at www.karenkirst.com or visit with me on Facebook. I also like to hear from readers through email, which is karenkirst@live.com.

Blessings,

Karen Kirst

My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.

—James 1:2–4

Acknowledgments

Rachel Richardson, Sleep in the Deep educator—Rachel, I’m sure you weren’t expecting me to actually follow through with my idea! I appreciate the time you took to answer my questions throughout this lengthy process. Your knowledge was invaluable in creating my heroine, as well as grasping aquarium operations.

J.T. Young—I appreciate your insight into what it means to be a USMC helicopter pilot. Thank you for tpatiently answering my many questions.

Andrew Benson—Thank you for sharing your diving knowledge and helping me craft plausible situations suited to an aquarium.

Jeff Sardella—Thank you for providing a clear understanding of light aircraft procedures and helping me with those all-important details.

Dan Rowe—You may not remember our chat last year, but I still have the notes. Thanks for telling me about your experiences as a USMC pilot.

Any mistakes are my own.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Olivia Smith entered the North Carolina Coastal Aquarium’s vast ocean tank and slowly maneuvered through the balmy water. Something felt off about this dive. Her wet suit was uncomfortable. Her air cylinder was heavier than usual. She was having trouble adjusting to the rush of compressed gas and—for a terrifying moment—experienced a suffocating sensation. Bubbles spurted past her eyes, and the gurgling sound that accompanied being underwater pulsed in her ears.

Focus. There’s no reason to panic. No one has drowned in this tank, and you’re not about to be the first.

She concentrated on regulating her breathing and calming her agitated mind. This had nothing to do with her scuba gear and everything to do with the unpleasant night ahead—playing tour guide for a man who could barely tolerate her.

US Marine Corps pilot Captain Brady Johnson was her late husband’s best friend, and he was on his way to her aquarium. More specifically, he was coming for tonight’s Sleep with the Sharks overnight program. Olivia would be stuck with him the entire night as she guided his group of at-risk youth on an after-hours behind-the-scenes tour.

While Derek was alive, she and Brady had played nice. Well, she hadn’t been playing. She genuinely liked Brady, and it hurt that he didn’t feel the same. Now that Derek was gone, she didn’t know how to act around the standoffish pilot.

Their one and only green sea turtle, Terry, swam over to greet her. He was an aquarium favorite. He had survived a collision with a boat propeller and had lost one of his back legs, yet he’d retained his innate curiosity. He noticed her co-diver, Erin, and swam over to say hello. Beneath them, three sand tiger sharks glided in procession past one of the viewing areas.

A large cownose ray brushed her shoulder, reminding her to stay focused on the task at hand. While the myriad creatures in this tank were fed on a regular schedule and posed little threat, she had to keep her wits about her. Olivia signaled to Erin that she was descending to the deepest part of the tank. She was hoping to collect Atlantic spadefish eggs that she and her coworker Roman needed for their groundbreaking breeding program. If they could continue to successfully breed saltwater fish in the aquarium—an extremely challenging task—their need to catch wild populations would lessen. Other aquariums could utilize their findings and implement their own programs. The impact would be far-reaching and beneficial for all involved.

Her downward journey through the crystal-clear water took her between towering, misshapen artificial reef formations. At forty feet, their tank was one of the deepest in the country. Because some of the spaces were tight, Erin had chosen not to accompany her. Erin was notoriously claustrophobic and preferred to remain in the open water closer to the surface and interact with the sea creatures there.

Olivia reached the bottom and waved to the guests at the viewing window. A young girl decked out in neon pink caught her eye. The girl appeared to be transfixed by Olivia. She stood with her hands pressed to the glass, her eyes as big as quarters.

Charmed, Olivia swam closer and initiated a game of rock, paper, scissors. At first the girl’s shyness got the better of her. Then, with her mother’s encouragement, she played along. A crowd gathered. Olivia was enjoying herself until she lifted her gaze and recognized the blond man standing apart from the rest.

Why had he come early? The program didn’t begin until after normal business hours.

Brady offered her a strained smile and half-hearted wave.

An emotional whirlpool churned up familiar frustration. Would it kill him to at least act happy to see her?

He’d checked on her three times in the eleven months since Derek’s aneurysm. The visits had been brief and underscored with tension. Brady was no actor. His true feelings weren’t hard to decipher. He didn’t want to see her. He’d come because he owed it to his best friend. When he wasn’t around, she convinced herself she didn’t care what he thought. But then she’d see him again, and old wounds festered.

Lost in the past, she wasn’t prepared when her mouth regulator erupted and spewed out her scuba cylinder contents. A torrent of bubbles invaded her mouth and hindered her vision. A smothering sensation stole over her as hundreds of thousands of gallons pressed in on her. The surface, far overhead, wasn’t visible, and neither was her buddy, Erin.

Concentrate, Olivia. What’s the solution?

She struggled to remember her instructor’s advice. What had he said to do in this situation?

Of course. Breathe out the side, letting most of the bubbles escape. Sucking in multiple uneven breaths, she checked the pressure gauge. Almost empty. No, that couldn’t be right. She’d made sure it was full during her predive check. It couldn’t have released that much gas in the span of a minute or two.

She unhooked her small bailout bottle and put its accompanying regulator in her mouth. But nothing happened. She tapped the pressure gauge again and again. Why wasn’t it working?

Dizziness overtook her.

She didn’t have enough air to do a controlled ascent. Her time in the water wasn’t an issue, but this depth was a major problem. Excess nitrogen in her bloodstream and tissues could form into bubbles if she rushed to the surface. Decompression sickness wasn’t something she wanted to risk. Excruciating joint pain or skin rashes she could handle. But if those bubbles burst in her nervous system, she was facing paralysis or even death.

Glancing above her, she saw only a twisted maze of dense rock. Her vision blurred, and her lungs felt like twin balloons about to burst.

Olivia did what she’d been taught not to do.

She panicked.

Brady shouldered his way through the onlookers.

“Mommy, what’s wrong with the lady?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, sweetie.” The young mother took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go find a snack.”

Brady took advantage of the vacated spot, which gave him a clearer view of this section of the tank. Unease built as Olivia swatted at the bubbles and shoved off the tank floor, heedless of her surroundings. When she almost rammed into the rock behind her, concerned murmurs rippled through the crowd around him.

Her long black hair floated around her face, further hampering her vision. The bubbles continued to gush from her breathing device. She was in danger of running out of air if she didn’t act soon. And if she continued to panic, she could hit her head against the rock formations and lose consciousness.

The intensity of the apprehension welling up inside surprised him. Every single critical thought he’d entertained about Olivia Smith evaporated as he watched her struggle. Whatever her motives for marrying Derek had been, she’d made him happy during the short time they were together.

Brady went in search of an aquarium employee. He found a teenage boy at a drinks station.

“There’s an emergency in the shark tank. A diver is in trouble.”

The boy stared at him in confusion.

“Do you have a comms system?” Brady demanded.

“Sir?”

Assuming his sternest stare, he grated out, “Take me to the tank entrance.”

“But you’re not allowed—”

“I’m a friend of Olivia Smith’s.” That was a stretch, but a necessary one. “She needs assistance. Now.”

His Adam’s apple bobbing, he abandoned the queue of customers and jogged up the ramp. “This way.”

As they dodged curious guests, Brady found himself praying for the woman he’d spent months mentally maligning. Olivia’s in trouble, Lord. Please help her. For Derek’s sake.

They entered an employee-only stairwell and raced to the top level. Bursting into a room containing large plastic tubs stocked with tiny fish and glass jars hooked to tubes, the boy led him through a second door that opened onto a walkway surrounding the enormous tank.

A short, curly-haired man standing at a dry-erase board printed with feeding schedules frowned at them.

“Leon, why did you abandon your post?” He studied Brady. “This area is restricted, sir. You’ll have to return to the guest viewing area.”

Brady bent over the railing and searched in vain for a glimpse of her. “Olivia’s down there with malfunctioning equipment. She’s running out of air.”

Below the rippling surface, schools of fish swam in formation, oblivious to the disturbance at the bottom.

The sky was Brady’s domain, not the water. But he’d brave the deep blue if it meant saving Derek’s widow. He headed to the dive dock. The other man was retrieving a wet suit, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. Didn’t he realize every second mattered?

Spotting a second diver, Brady made a split-second decision. He shucked off his jacket and placed his cell in the folds. Then he jumped in and, ignoring the shouts of protest behind him, sliced through the water to her side. The other diver was near the surface, but on the far side of the tank. It seemed to take forever to reach her. Behind the mask, her eyes went wide.

He grabbed her arm and gestured to the bottom. At first, she didn’t respond. Frustrated, Brady started to tow her along with him. Finally, she seemed to understand, because she wrestled free, gestured for him to return to the dock and then darted toward the reef formations.

Straining for air, he returned to the surface and a flurry of activity.

“Come out of there at once!” The curly-headed man looked as if he’d like to feed Brady to the sharks, while Leon’s expression was frozen in horror.

The realization of what he’d done registered. He was in a tank with multiple creatures that might decide he’d make a tasty snack. They were used to the aquarium staff sharing their habitat, but a random guy who had scant knowledge about their feeding preferences or behaviors? Focusing on the dock, he wasted no time getting there.

Water sluiced down his body onto the metal grid beneath his sodden tennis shoes. While the older man read him the riot act, he scanned the water for Olivia.

Would the other diver reach her in time?

“Good, security’s here. You’re going to be escorted off the premises, sir.”

Movement beside him belatedly registered, and he looked up into the grim visage of the security guard.

“You’ll need to come with me, Mr.—”

“It’s Captain Johnson. Look, I know I broke a rule of some sort, and I apologize. I will leave without a fuss, but first I need to see that Olivia is all right.”

The guard’s nostrils flared, and he rested his hand on the weapon at his hip. “You will leave now.”

Brady hadn’t ever been arrested or spent a night in jail. The prospect hadn’t even occurred to him. Now he found himself debating the cost of his actions. He wasn’t leaving until Olivia was out of that tank.

“I see them!” Leon shouted.

Brady spotted the two divers. The brunette was assisting Olivia through the water and sharing her air with her. The fact she was conscious was a good sign, but he couldn’t give in to relief just yet.

A hand clamped on to his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Can’t he stay a little longer?” Leon piped up. “He’s friends with Olivia.”

The man in charge—James, according to his name badge—eyed Brady with skepticism. “How do you know her?”

“She was married to a pilot friend of mine.” A trivial label for the friendship that had saved his career, and possibly even his life. Grief, that terrible companion that caught him unawares and threatened hard-won control, slammed into him again.

“You knew Derek?”

He cleared his throat. “We met in flight school.”

James nodded to the guard, who retreated to the railing with a disgusted scowl. The group returned their attention to the divers, who appeared to stop every few feet and tread water. When the pair finally reached the dock, he put a hand beneath Olivia’s arm and helped her out of the water.

“Brady.” Once on her feet, she shifted out of his grip, removed her eye mask and peeled the wet strands off her face. He noticed her hands were trembling. “How did you get up here?”

“Leon brought me. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Her rich brown eyes told another tale. The incident had shaken her. Her nose crinkled. “Why are you wet?”

Leon grinned. “He jumped in to help you.”

Her jaw sagged. “You did what?”

Olivia’s disbelief was to be expected. He’d frozen her out, not taking pains to hide his suspicions that she was using Derek to perpetuate a fantasy. He’d seen it all too often...local girls who painted pilots in a glamorous light and thought they could achieve a Top Gun dream life. She’d had Derek talking marriage after a week. That wasn’t a sign of an authentic bond. It was the sign of a campaign launched to dazzle and distract.

“What happened down there?”

“Regulator free-flow.” Seeing his lifted brows, she amended, “The gas started discharging from my cylinder. My regulator malfunctioned.”

James turned to her. “Didn’t they teach you how to handle that in dive school?”

“They did.” Olivia’s black brows pulled together. “It hasn’t happened to me before, and I lost my cool. I’m sorry for worrying the guests.” Tugging off her fingerless gloves, she looked at Brady. “Did I frighten the little girl?”

“Her mother distracted her.”

“What about your backup?” James persisted.

Brady bristled at his accusatory tone, but he muzzled the brewing retort. This man could be Olivia’s superior, and he didn’t want to get her in trouble.

Sinking onto a metal bench, she tugged off her fins one by one. “Something’s wrong with it. My primary cylinder, too. I checked both before I went in, and they were fine.”

The brunette interjected. “She’s right. We inspected our equipment at the same time.”

“The gauges showed they were full,” she said, straightening. “Down there, it was a different story. My large cylinder was nearly empty and the pony bottle was completely out.”

James planted his hands on his hips. “It would be unusual for one to malfunction, but not both.”

Silence reigned. Brady voiced what no one else seemed willing to. “Did you leave your equipment unsupervised between the time of your inspection and the time you entered the water?”

Olivia let her fins clatter to the floor. “What are you suggesting?”

“Is it possible that someone wanted to sabotage your dive?”

TWO

Sabotage? The word wasn’t part of her everyday life. Olivia understood why a military man like Brady would consider it. He was conditioned to combat evil in the world.

“There isn’t a single person on the aquarium payroll whom I’d consider capable of such an act.”

He held her gaze. “Capable in knowledge or intent?”

“There are plenty of certified divers here, but no one who’d willingly damage scuba equipment.”

“Not even for a joke?” Brady said.

“That’s not my idea of a joke.”

Erin sat beside her. “You were called away for an urgent phone call, remember?”

Olivia had forgotten about the summons. She’d been told that an American Zoo Association representative was requesting information about the upcoming fund-raiser, but when she’d gotten to the phone, the line was dead. She dismissed any thoughts of foul play. This was her second home. Her coworkers were her substitute family. The aquarium had kept her in the Jacksonville area after Derek’s death. If she didn’t adore her job, she would’ve returned to Cherokee in the western part of the state or even sought employment at a different aquarium.

“True,” she said, “but you were here.”

Worry lines dug into Erin’s forehead. “Actually, I dashed to the restroom.”

Brady bent and retrieved his jacket. The long-sleeved gray shirt he wore, wet from his foray into the tank, adhered to his muscular shoulders and biceps like glue. He straightened and regarded them with his arctic blue-gray gaze. His customary air of authority—gleaned from flight school and his subsequent climb through the ranks—was in place. He was accustomed to being respected and admired, not befriended or loved. She believed he preferred it that way. Why else would he work so hard at keeping others at arm’s length?

A shame, because he had a lot to offer. She’d witnessed his tireless commitment to community service. Each Christmas season, he was instrumental in local gift collection for Toys for Tots. He gave his time and energy each week to kids who lacked positive role models. She’d seen evidence of his compassion and selflessness, his patriotism and work ethic. She’d even seen him let go and have fun. He and Derek had played together on a church basketball team. On the court, he’d forgotten his childhood wounds, forgotten the drive to prove his worth and simply enjoyed himself.

Olivia wanted to get to know that Brady, but she doubted she’d ever have the chance.

“So there was a window of opportunity?” he said, scattering her thoughts.

Standing to her feet, she unzipped the wet suit. “It was a fluke. A one-off.”

James, who’d been looking over the equipment, joined them. “I’m inclined to agree. We’ll have these serviced before using them again.”

Brady pushed his damp hair off his forehead. “You aren’t going to do an in-house investigation?”

“I’ll discuss it with the director. For now, it’s enough to know that Olivia is unharmed,” James said. He gestured to the guard, who left his spot at the railing.

“It’s time for you to go, Captain Johnson.”

Olivia glanced between the men, realizing they intended to evict him from the aquarium. That meant he wouldn’t be able to stay for the program. She considered seizing the chance to avoid spending time with Brady but quickly dismissed it. He’d entered the shark tank to try to help her.

“Let him stay.”

Everyone stared at her.

“Please, James. He won’t be jumping into any more tanks, I promise.”

Relenting, James lectured Brady about safety protocols and sent the guard on his way.

“The kids get here in an hour. Olivia, may I speak to you alone before they arrive?”

She masked her reluctance with a nod. “I’ll meet you in Stingray Bay.”

When he’d left with Leon, Erin shot her a confess-all look. “Who is that?”

How to define their non-relationship? Someone she’d hoped could be a friend?

Regret pinched her heart. “He was important to my husband.”

Brady didn’t have to wait long. Olivia met him in the humid glass enclosure that housed an interactive stingray exhibit, lemurs and a butterfly garden. She’d changed into the standard uniform of khaki pants and a soft blue polo. Her fine black hair was woven into an intricate braid that accentuated her striking features. If Olivia was aware of her appeal, she didn’t show it.

Shoving the unwanted appreciation aside, he thought of the secret Derek had entrusted him with months before his death. He still couldn’t quite believe that the man he’d known for years had been using a fake identity. Sometimes, when Brady wondered if he’d dreamed the conversation, he dug out the newspaper clippings about the missing mafia heir and reread them.

He considered what Olivia’s reaction to the news might be. Would she feel betrayed? Angry? Disillusioned? After all, her perfect pilot hadn’t been what he’d presented himself to be.

Brady wouldn’t tell her, of course. He couldn’t bring himself to deliberately wound her.

He continued to observe the stingrays in their shallow touch tank. “Feeling any lingering effects from your ordeal?”

“A mild headache and hefty dose of embarrassment. Scaring the guests is not in my job description.”

He could’ve told her that it wasn’t her fault, but the words stuck in his throat. His conscience pinched him. Derek was gone. It no longer mattered what her ulterior motives for marrying him had been.

“What about you?” she said. “Sorry you took a swim in the shark tank?”

“No.” He turned toward her. “I am glad I had an extra change of clothes in the car, however.”

Sunlight rendered her hair an even glossier shade of jet and lent her complexion a satiny sheen. He wasn’t supposed to notice these things. He locked his hands behind his back and put extra inches between them.

“What were you doing down there alone?”

“A colleague and I are working on an innovative project. I was down there to collect fish eggs.”

“Is there anyone who’d benefit from its failure?”

“The aim of this project is to minimize our impact on the oceans’ fish population. Successfully raising larval saltwater fish here will preclude the need to harvest them from the wild. I can’t think of anyone who would stand in the way of that.”

“Is there an employee who’d like to have your position? Someone who’d try and frighten you into quitting?”

“You’re thinking like a marine, not a civilian.”

“Military or no, evil exists in the world. You shouldn’t dismiss the possibility the damage was intentional.”

“Not in this case, Brady.” She paused as an announcement came over the speakers. The aquarium was closing in half an hour. A family of four exited the area, leaving them alone. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

He had to force the next words from his mouth. “The anniversary of Derek’s death is in a few weeks. Will you meet the deadline?”

Sadness stole over her, only to be shuttered seconds later. “I’ve already put a deposit on a new place. I’ll be out in time.”

As the widow of an active-duty marine, she’d been given a year to move out of base housing. She’d taken advantage of the grace period, using the months since Derek’s death to take stock of her options. Brady drove past the air station housing area every morning on his way to squadron headquarters and every evening on his way home.

“Where?”

“A warehouse apartment near downtown. It’s more compact, but it has a fantastic view of the river.”

“I’ll help you move.” Derek would want him to help her, to see her settled in her new life.

“I’m considering hiring a moving company.”

“That won’t be cheap.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Why don’t you let me and some of the guys do it?” The entire squadron mourned Derek’s loss, and any one of them would leap at the chance to help her. “You don’t have family here.”

“My coworkers stand in for them.”

“Olivia—”

“Brady, stop the charade.” Resignation tugged at her lips. “Derek’s not here to applaud your performance.”

“I don’t know what—”

“For whatever reason, you’ve never given me a chance to win your respect or friendship.”

The genuine hurt in her eyes knocked him back a step. Surely, she didn’t care what he thought? That would indicate she wasn’t the shallow groupie he’d painted her to be.

You’re wrong about her, Derek had argued the one time they’d discussed Brady’s reservations. Time will prove you wrong.

More and more, he was beginning to suspect he had made a mistake. Nothing supported his initial assessment of her character. In fact, her behavior suggested the opposite. She’d been a devoted, supportive wife during their brief, seven months’ union. She’d been unfailingly kind to Brady, despite his refusal to trust her. She hadn’t tried to sabotage his and Derek’s friendship, either.

Have you considered that this wasn’t about her? That you’d be suspicious of anyone who’d intruded on your oldest, closest friendship?

Cold flushed through him. If that was true, he’d been grossly unfair.

She lifted her chin in challenge. “Let’s just get through this night, okay? And then we agree to steer clear of each other. No more pity visits. They don’t benefit either of us.”

Pity visits? Didn’t she realize she was his last link to his best friend, and that no matter their history, he’d needed to see her?

Before he could think of a proper response, a young woman emerged from a door beside the lemur exhibit and hailed Olivia with a hardy wave.

“Do you have time to get the snacks and drinks ready for tonight?”

“Maya. I thought Erin was working the program with me.”

“I asked her to switch. I have plans tomorrow night.” Her jaw sawing on bubblegum, she stuffed her hands into her back pockets and regarded him with wide eyes. “Hello.”

“Brady, this is Maya Fentress.”

Grinning, Maya blew a giant pink bubble. Taller and stockier than Olivia, she had chin-length brown hair streaked with pink and an eyebrow piercing. Freckles dusted her pert nose and rounded cheeks. She looked to be in her early twenties.

“Pleased to meet you, Maya.”

“Are you one of the dads?” She glanced at his left hand, presumably looking for a ring.

“No, I don’t have any kids.”

Family life wasn’t for him. He’d known it from a tender age and had accepted his lot. His own parents hadn’t thought him worthy of attention or love. They’d discarded him as if he were secondhand goods, dumping him at his grandmother’s house shortly before his tenth birthday. As his school counselor had said often enough, he had abandonment issues. A tidy label that didn’t scratch the surface of what his childhood experiences had done to him.

THREE

The grief ravaging Brady’s face siphoned the breath from her lungs. She lifted her hand to touch him, to impart comfort, only to catch herself. He didn’t want anything from her.

“Not married, huh?” Speculation ripened Maya’s eyes. She hadn’t noticed his unease. Not surprising, considering Maya’s chief concern was herself.

“Brady volunteers with a local program pairing volunteer mentors with at-risk youth,” Olivia quickly interjected.

“Most of the kids in our group have never been to an aquarium before,” he said, his voice rusty.

“It’s our most popular event. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you have a blast.” She giggled. “The kids, too.”

“Maya, why don’t you gather the snacks while I show Brady the auditorium?”

She opened her mouth to protest but, at Olivia’s pointed stare, rubbed his arm instead. “I’ll see you soon, Brady.”

Olivia ushered him out of the stingray area. Riding the escalator to the first floor, she studied his stoic profile and found herself wishing he’d open up to her. Holding in that amount of grief and anger robbed the present of its joy. Derek had mentioned Brady had had a tough childhood, but he hadn’t given many details. If only he were here...he’d had the ability to shred Brady’s reserve.

“I should warn you that Maya can be a lot to handle.”

He gave her a tight smile. “I gathered as much.”

“How long have you volunteered with these kids?”

“Over five years.”

Stepping off the escalator, they circumvented this building’s main entrance and descended yet another escalator to where the group’s event would originate. He opened the auditorium door for her.

“We’ll start the program with an up close and personal experience with a couple of our favorite reptiles, and then we’ll go to the feeding room, where we’ll discuss what types of foods the animals eat. Pizza will be served before we tour the two buildings.”

They reached the stage. “Is this a regular part of your job? Derek never mentioned it.”

The casual mention of him was jarring. No one spoke his name anymore. Her sisters tiptoed around the subject. Her coworkers avoided it completely. As time marched on, Olivia found herself wanting to talk about him. Acting as if he hadn’t existed—simply to spare her pain—wasn’t fair to his memory.

“I subbed for someone a couple of months ago and enjoyed it.” She motioned to the vacant room. “Being in the aquarium at night is a unique experience. It’s peaceful.”

His blond brows shot up. “In my experience, peace and kids don’t go together.”

“You’ll see what I mean. Especially when they’re in the shark tunnel, snug in their sleeping bags, and everyone drifts to sleep watching the fish swim overhead.”

Commotion at the top left entrance shattered the hushed stillness. An aquarium employee ushered twenty middle and high school kids into the auditorium. Chatter and laughter bounced off the paneled walls as they dropped their backpacks and sleeping bags and thundered down the steps.

“How many hours until bedtime?” Brady drawled, rubbing his jaw.

His words were belied by the high fives he doled out. One of the younger boys, Michael, gave him a hug. The affection on Brady’s face and the way he mussed the boy’s hair spoke volumes. The unflappable Marine pilot who looked as if he could eat nails for breakfast had a marshmallow heart, at least when it came to these kids.

She wished things could be different. It would’ve been nice to bond with someone who cared about Derek as much as she did.

He introduced her to his fellow volunteers—Norman, who resembled a wise owl, and Dana, a frazzled middle-aged mom—before spouting off the names of everyone in the group. Olivia’s previous reluctance faded. Maybe the night wouldn’t be as onerous as she’d thought.

Maya arrived with the boa constrictor, drawing the boys and girls into a tight knot around her. Their curiosity remained evident as they progressed to the feeding room with walk-in freezers and coolers stocked with everything from vegetables to tiny shrimp. As she interacted with them, Olivia managed to forget her diving ordeal.

While they were wolfing down pizza and guzzling caffeinated sodas, she joined Brady at the windows. He twisted the cap off an orange juice bottle and offered it to her.

Shaking her head, she studied the tables’ occupants. “Why them? Why not the homeless shelter or food bank?”

His eyes had a bleak look that saddened her.

“Growing up in my grandmother’s home, I didn’t have a positive male influence. My grandmother was a sweet soul, but her health was frail. No one bothered to step into my life and make a positive impact. I longed for that, even though I couldn’t pinpoint the specific need at the time.”

“How old were you when you went to live with her?”

His lips thinned. “Ten.”

Olivia could imagine his confusion and disappointment. Then, to have to take on the role of caregiver at such a young age. Her heart hurt for the child he’d been.

Her parents hadn’t had the best of relationships, but her mother had done everything in her power to create a loving, nurturing environment for Olivia and her siblings. She’d never doubted she was loved and wanted.

“You’re doing for these kids what someone should’ve done for you. You’re choosing to care.”

His broad chest rose and hitched. Guzzling the juice, he tossed the empty glass in the recycle bin and pointed to the farthest table. “I’m going to talk to Michael and Cameron.”

In the past, Olivia would’ve viewed his abrupt departure as a rejection. Now she saw his behavior for what it was—an attempt to avoid deep-rooted anguish. Maybe she truly wasn’t his favorite person. Maybe he hadn’t liked her and Derek together. But that wasn’t the whole story. Captain Brady Johnson was a complex, mysterious man whom she would probably never truly know.

But she could pray for him. Why hadn’t she thought to do that before?

I’m sorry, Lord, for fretting over this issue instead of bringing it to You. I don’t know the details of his private pain, but You do. Please help him.

Olivia started gathering the empty pizza boxes and other trash. Maya popped over. “Are you and the hunky captain involved?”

“Brady served with my husband. We’re acquaintances.”

“Would you date him?”

She tied a thick garbage bag with more force than necessary. “No.”

The Marine pilot possessed the aristocratic good looks and bearing of royalty. His flaxen hair, light eyes and fair skin was a memorable combination. He was tall and built of lean, ropy muscle. That didn’t mean she was affected. Because of his connection with Derek, Brady was firmly in the off-limits zone. Besides, she was still in mourning.

“Good.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“We’re not serious.”

Olivia clamped her lips together. Thanks to her recent love interest, Maya had started hanging around a rough crowd who skirted the law. She’d tried to warn the younger woman, but Maya hadn’t been receptive. In fact, she’d been hostile. There was no use telling her that Brady rarely dated.

“I’m taking these out to the dumpsters.”

Maya grunted a response. Olivia hauled the cumbersome bags through the employee kitchen and out an exit that emptied into a single, paved lane. The heavy door slammed shut with a bang, and she jerked. The thick hedges opposite twisted together like grotesque hands. She dragged the bags around the corner to the trash receptacles, which were located at the edge of an employee parking lot that linked the River Expedition to the Ocean Adventure building. Before tonight, she wouldn’t have wondered what or who could be hiding in the shrubbery.

She shivered as a brisk wind flattened her pants against her legs and nipped at her hair. Goose bumps marched along her exposed forearms. Her coat would’ve come in handy, but as it was a consistent temperature inside the aquarium, she typically left it in her office during shifts.

Crossing the isolated lot, Olivia felt vulnerable. The handful of lampposts weren’t enough to combat the complete November darkness. The panic she’d experienced in the shark tank threatened to erupt.

Ridiculous. She increased her pace. Brady’s suspicions are just that...groundless suspicions.

At the dumpster, she yanked open the side slot and pushed in the bags. Somewhere in the night, a bottle dropped and rolled across concrete. Olivia yelped and pressed her hand to her thrumming heart.

“This has to stop,” she said aloud, squinting into the shadows.

She would not let her imagination play tricks on her.

A rustling noise behind the dumpster had her backing up. When a calico cat leaped out and greeted her with a plaintive meow, she bent to pet it.

“You frightened me, you know that?” she crooned.

Crouched at its level, she spied an odd-shaped bag propped against the concrete-block barrier. The wind tangled with the top flaps and revealed what appeared to be a scuba cylinder.

Olivia reached out, pulled the plastic lower and tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Two cylinders. One silver regular size and a backup orange pony bottle.

Her cylinders. The jagged, superficial scratch near the bottom of the big one proved it.

Her mind whirled. Why were they out here? James couldn’t have had time to get someone out to service them.

Brady’s allegations threw her reasoning into a tailspin. Could he be right?

Could someone have wanted her to encounter trouble in the shark tank?

“Where did Olivia go?” Brady asked.

Annoyance sparked in Maya’s eyes. “She took out the garbage.” With both hands balanced on the child-size plastic chair in front of her, she leaned close. “Tell me more about flying. You pilot a Huey helicopter?”

“SuperCobra. Twin-engine attack helo.” Brady gestured to the kitchen visible through an open doorway. “Did she use that exit?”

“Olivia’s fine. Tell me more about flying.”

“Maybe later.” He strode past the long lunchroom-style tables.

“Captain, look!” Grinning, Michael lifted a slice of pizza stacked with chocolate chip cookies and took a bite.

He gave him a thumbs-up. “Fix me one of those.”

Beaming, the boy nodded. “Yes, sir!”

In the kitchen, he heard a muffled pounding and hurried to open the door. Olivia stood on the stoop, shivering, deep grooves of worry carved into her brow.

“What’s the matter?”

“Come with me.” She seized his hand. “I need to show you something.”

As she led him into the night, he couldn’t help but notice how their palms fit together...and how cold her skin was. Shrugging out of his jacket, he insisted she put it on.

“Look.” Pulling the lapels together, she directed his attention to a pair of diving cylinders. “These are the ones I use.” She ran her fingertip over a scratch. “I knocked into metal lockers a month or so ago.”

“We need to speak to James and find out why he’d discard them here.”

“He’s already gone for the day.”

“Do you have his cell number?”

She tugged her braid free of the jacket collar. “In my office. I lock my phone in my desk drawer during working hours.”

“I’ll go with you to make the call.”

“The tour—”

“The kids are preoccupied right now. They won’t notice our absence.”

After briefing Norman and the other adults, Olivia led him through the darkened, deserted aquarium. They traversed a maze of high walkways and stairs in a multistory area dominated with large tanks featuring river fish. A shallow pool of water occupied the floor level, and they had to cross on skinny platforms. He understood how she could think it peaceful without the hordes of visitors. Still, there was an almost eerie quality to it.

Voices greeted them as they neared the main entrance. A spindly gentleman in a black uniform mopped the floor as another man spun his car keys on his finger.

“Good evening, Mr. Ludwig.” Olivia greeted the pair. “Roman, I thought you’d gone home already.”

Roman stopped the keys’ motion and, balling them into his palm, sized Brady up from behind rimless glasses. “My car won’t start. I’m waiting on a friend to give me a ride home.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it’s an inexpensive fix.”

“I do, too.”

“This is Captain Johnson.” Olivia gestured to Brady. “Roman and I are working together on the breeding program I told you about.”

Brady initiated a handshake. He guessed Roman to be in his late thirties, early forties. He had wavy brown hair and a short, scruffy beard streaked with silver and reddish gold. Like Olivia, he wore khakis and a blue polo bearing the aquarium emblem.

“I heard about your dive,” Roman said, his bushy brows descending over sharp gray eyes. “Any chance you got our eggs before you ran out of air?”

The guy’s disregard for Olivia’s welfare irked Brady.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she responded good-naturedly. “Why don’t you get your dive cert and retrieve them yourself?”

“Touché.” Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, a car pulled into view and honked. “That’s my ride.”

“See you tomorrow.”

As they entered a bunker-like underground corridor linking the aquarium’s river and ocean buildings, Olivia shot Brady a sideways glance. “Roman’s grumpiness has earned him a nickname around here. We call him ‘Gruffy’ behind his back.”

“Do you like working with him?” His voice echoed off the stark cement walls and floor.

“He’s dependable. I can’t recall a time he’s come in late or called in sick.”

“Would you say he’s an equal contributor to your project?”

She fiddled with one of her silver dolphin earrings. “While he doesn’t generate ideas, he’s a decent problem solver.”

The corridor was a dank, musty space that seemed to stretch on for miles. Emerging into the Ocean Adventure lobby, he breathed in fresh, warm air. They navigated the escalators—turned off for the night—and various exhibit areas before entering the office wing.

“This is James’s.” A slim glass window showed the room was empty. “Mine is farther down.”

Located at a midway point, her box of an office was made smaller by shelves stuffed with trade books and magazines. Colorful works of art showcasing her Native American heritage were wedged into every available wall space. As she retrieved her phone and made the call to James, Brady studied a smooth, black pottery bowl with a carving of two feathers. He’d heard her talk about the Qualla Arts and Crafts cooperative, located in Cherokee, and the fact her mother crafted baskets to sell there.

He noticed the change in her voice as she ended the call. “What is it?”

Sliding her phone into her pocket, she met his quizzical gaze and shrugged. “James said my cylinders are in his office. He spoke with the equipment company here in town, and a rep is supposed to come on Monday.”

“Do you have a key to his office?”

“There’s a master set in the meeting room.”

When she’d retrieved the key, they entered and she flicked on the light.

“There are cylinders, all right.” Brady pointed to the pair propped against the desk chair. “They look identical to the ones by the dumpster.”

She performed a quick inspection. “Except there isn’t a scratch.”

“Walk me through what happened right before your dive.”

“I changed into my wet suit. I joined Erin in the tank area, and we did a methodical check of our equipment. My cylinders were full. The regulator was free of salt buildup and debris.” Sagging against the desk edge, she spread her hands. “I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. At least not with my gear.”

“Which somehow ended up in a garbage bag outside the other building. This building has its own trash area?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You said you received a phone call right before the dive?”

“I was told a representative from AZA, the American Zoo Association, needed to speak to me about the upcoming gala. It’s an important night for Roman and I, since we’re presenting our findings. We’re hopeful the success we’ve had until this point will net further support and other aquariums will follow suit.”

“Who summoned you?”

“One of the secretarial staff. Sarah.” She ran her palms over her pants. “When I got to a phone, there was no one on the line. I assumed they’d gotten impatient and would call back later. When I returned to the dive dock, Erin was suited up and waiting for me.”

“She said she was in the restroom for a few minutes.”

Olivia contemplated the cylinders as if they were bombs set to explode. “You think someone switched mine out for these defective ones.”

“I do. The question is who and why? Are you and Erin on good terms?”

“Erin’s a sweetheart. She wouldn’t do this.”

“Are there security cameras in the tank area?”

She popped up. “There are two.”

Together, they headed to the security office, but it was locked. The one guard on duty overnight spent much of his time touring the premises.

“It’ll have to wait until morning,” she stated. “We’ve been gone long enough, as it is.”

“This is important, Olivia.”

“So is your kids’ experience. I’m not going to waste another half hour or more tracking down the guard. It’ll keep.”

Brady stifled his complaints. Olivia was clearly having trouble accepting that her safe haven had been tainted. Until they could view those video feeds and get those discarded tanks to the police, he’d make a point to stay near her.

Weariness pulled Olivia closer to sleep, even as she continued to ponder her predicament. There could be no denying someone in her world wanted her to suffer. A devastating thought. In the months since Derek’s death, the aquarium had become her refuge and the employees her support net.

Brady had remained within arm’s reach of her the entire evening, as if he were her covert bodyguard. His closeness had increased her unease. At least the kids hadn’t seemed to notice anything amiss. Their interactions with Brady revealed the depth of their respect and genuine admiration for him. And it was clear he cared about them, too. There was nothing forced or stiff about his demeanor when he engaged with them. It was a side she wished she could see more often.

Despite the HVAC system hum, laughter trickled down from the landing above. Everyone was supposed to be in their sleeping bags, not wandering through the building. Olivia pushed her blankets aside and, slipping on her shoes, left the cot she’d situated at the lower end of the tunnel. Lamplight outside the massive, floor-to-ceiling glass wall cast enough light for her to navigate the motionless escalator.

At the top, she discovered a high school couple in the penguin exhibit. The boy and girl weren’t paying attention to the penguins. Hands entwined, they were whispering and laughing, their shy smiles evidence of their mutual crush.

Olivia cleared her throat, and they leaped apart.

“Time to return to the tunnel, you two,” she said lightly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The girl’s head bowed, she scurried away, the boy on her heels.

“Young love,” she muttered, recalling the naivete of her teenage years.

Behind the glass, she watched a penguin glide beneath the water and perform tricks. Olivia never lost her fascination for God’s amazing creatures. His imagination and wisdom were limitless. She didn’t know how much time passed before the penguin tired of his antics and returned to the rock ledge.

Her watch warned her there weren’t many hours left to sleep. She abandoned the exhibit and skirted a thick blue support beam. A faint sound, like the scrape of a shoe against drywall, reached her. Her nape prickled. Whirling around, she searched the shadows and willed her heartbeat to slow. There weren’t any boogeymen out to get her. Her tumultuous day was making her imagine the worst.

She walked at a fast clip toward the escalator. Olivia reached for the black cushioned handrest. Her fingers never grasped it.

A whisper of hot breath fanning over her nape was her only warning before two hands settled against her back and shoved.

Olivia’s scream lodged in her throat as she tumbled headfirst down the steep, jagged metal stairs.

FOUR

Brady gave up trying to get comfortable on the blow-up mattress and instead observed the shark appearing to float far above him, visible through the portal beside his makeshift bed. The tank lights would be turned off in ten more minutes. A shame, really, because watching the ocean creatures in their blue world had a soothing effect.

The kids’ whispers carried through the carpeted tunnel, and he wondered how long it would be before the sugar and excitement wore off. He shifted onto his side and became engrossed with the sea turtle who, because of buoyancy issues resulting from his accident, swam with his tail pointed to the ceiling. The turtle had captured the group’s interest, and they’d peppered Olivia with questions. She’d been a wonderful host...patient, friendly and composed. He’d picked up on subtle signs of her distress—a flash in her eyes, a tremor in hand—only because he’d known what to look for. He had to give her credit for holding it together.

His lids fluttered closed, only to pop open at the sound of a terror-filled scream.

“Did you hear that, Captain?” Michael, bedded down a couple of feet away, scooted deeper into his sleeping bag.

“Stay put. I’m going to check it out.”

Grabbing his flashlight from his pack, Brady instructed everyone to remain in place. Norman left his spot at the tunnel entrance and paced among the now quiet kids. Brady hurried through the space, expecting to encounter Olivia. But when he reached the end, he saw that her cot was empty.

Dread winged through him. He jogged through the hallway and poked his head into the women’s restroom.

“Olivia? You in here?”

Not a single sound interrupted the socket lights’ buzz. A sense of urgency gripped him. Calling her name, he continued down the hall and rounded the corner into the escalator area. The space was open to the second story and, thanks to the wall of glass, afforded an expansive view of the River Expedition building and waterfront. Striding beneath the twin escalators, he approached the doors.

A reflection in the glass diverted his attention. Pivoting, he probed the space with his gaze and realized the out-of-place shadow wasn’t a trick of the light. It was a person, sprawled at the bottom of the steep escalators. Long black hair fanned across the shiny floor grate. A ribbon of dark liquid glistened beneath her cheek.

Olivia.

She wasn’t moving.

Could she be—

Derek had been like that, too, his face locked in forever sleep.

Brady forced his leaden feet into motion. At her side, he fell to his knees and felt for a pulse. The breath whooshed from his lungs. Not dead.

Thank you, Lord.

“Olivia, can you hear me?” He searched for the blood source and discovered a deep gash behind her right ear.

She reacted to his probing fingers with an agonized moan. She flinched away from him, her pupils dilated in fear.

“It’s me, Brady. I’m here to help.”

Her forehead pinched. When she attempted to sit up, she hissed and cradled her arm against her chest.

Brady reached out but didn’t touch her. “What happened?”

Glancing at the floor above, she grimaced. “Someone pushed me.”

Moving to shield her from further threat, he gauged the distance of her fall. Anger bubbled beneath his skin. “Did you see who did it?”

“No.”

Questions piled up, but he tabled them. She’d suffered a terrible fall and likely had a concussion. The prospect of internal injuries worried him. “Where else do you hurt?”

“I’m sore all over, but my arm aches when I move it.”

“I’m going to call for an ambulance. In the meantime, we should wait somewhere more secure. Do you think you can walk?”

“No ambulance.” She attempted to get up and faltered.

Brady gingerly placed his arm around her waist and helped her stand. She weaved on her feet and sank against him, her breaths coming in uneven bursts. His worry ratcheted up a notch.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

With her cheek pressed against his chest, she murmured, “Police and EMTs will end the kids’ night on a sour note.”

“There’s no getting around that, Olivia,” he said, his voice gruffer than usual. Her concern for the kids in this moment meant a lot.

“I’ll answer the questions and fill out a report, just not here.”

That she was continuing to lean on him was testament of her distress. Perceiving his unspoken wishes in the initial weeks of their acquaintance, she’d been careful to keep her distance. He hadn’t noticed the differences in their heights before—the top of her head came even with his chin—or the sweet scent clinging to her skin. Or was it her shampoo?

Brady’s hold on her tightened.

“I’ll take you in my truck.”

She straightened and edged out of his sheltering embrace, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. “The kids—”

“Norman and Dana will contact their parents to let them know what’s happening. The field trip will be cut short, but they’ll be safe in their homes. Maybe we can try this again at a later date.”

He texted instructions to Norman to bring his pack and Olivia’s phone, which she’d left on her cot. Brady guided her to a wooden bench and sat down beside her. Was her attacker hanging around to discover the outcome of his actions? The unknowns frustrated him. In real-life military missions, his objectives were clearly laid out and his adversary established. He had no idea if this person was aiming to scare Olivia or end her.

Despite the comfortable temperature inside the aquarium, a chill washed over him, raising the hair on his arms.

He extracted a clean cotton T-shirt from his pack and held it up. “This will stem the bleeding.”

Not waiting for her response, he gently swept her hair behind her shoulder and placed the folded material against her wound. Her lips pressed together. “I know it hurts,” he murmured regretfully. “I can’t tell how deep the gash is, though.”

She lifted her uninjured arm and held the material in place. “I hope this wasn’t one of your favorite shirts.”

“I’m not particular about what I wear.” Growing up, he hadn’t had the luxury of caring what he wore. His grandmother had purchased his scant wardrobe from the local thrift shop because that’s all she could afford. Thanks to his career, he was either in flight suits, military-issue PT gear or dress blues. “Mind if I use your phone to call the guard?”

She told him where to find the contact information and listened as he relayed the problem. By the time Norman located Brady’s pickup truck in the parking lot and drove it to the entrance, the guard was already there. This wasn’t the same one who’d tried to evict him. Olivia introduced him as the head of security, Don Welch. With a broad face and heavy jowls, he reminded Brady of an English bulldog, the Marine Corps mascot. His eyes snapped, and lips pulled back over his crooked teeth.

Before they left, Norman reassured him that he would call all the parents and ensure the kids got home safely. Brady thanked him and assisted Olivia into the crisp night. Once she was settled in the passenger seat, he leaned in and fastened her seat belt, careful not to touch her injured arm. The forearm area looked pink and swollen. A quick glance at her face revealed her struggle to manage the discomfort.

Compassion, an emotion his parents’ abandonment and military training had almost managed to mute, lodged in his chest. She didn’t deserve this.

“I’ll try to avoid the potholes and speed bumps.”

He hurried to the driver’s side and turned on the heater full blast. Despite his vow, he couldn’t avoid every rough road surface. Relief flooded him when the hospital sign pointed them to the entrance. As it was after midnight, he was able to find a convenient parking spot.

He studied her profile draped in shadows. “Should I get a wheelchair?”

“I can walk.”

“I’ll be right beside you,” he promised.

She turned to look at him, her brows forming a single line of surprise. Her lips parted, but no words escaped.

Brady could guess what was on her mind. Why hadn’t he insisted they call an ambulance? He could’ve left her in the care of medical professionals and returned to his group. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he hadn’t even entertained that option.

Helping her out of the truck, he stuck close as they made their way to the brightly lit emergency room entrance. The slam of a car door shot through the night, and Olivia jumped.

“It’s okay,” he said, sliding his arm around her as he performed a quick scan of their surroundings.

Her throat convulsed. “I can feel his breath on my neck. His hand on my back, shoving me over the edge.”

“The police will find this guy, Olivia.”

Her expression said she wasn’t convinced; her big, liquid eyes asked the question neither wanted to consider. What if they don’t?

“You’re a fortunate young woman.” The ER doctor finished consulting his handheld tablet and gazed at her with bloodshot eyes. “You didn’t suffer head trauma or internal injuries. As soon as your discharge papers are ready, you can go home.”

The prospect of her soft, cozy bed should’ve sounded ideal. Home wasn’t the same anymore, though. Not without Derek’s larger-than-life presence.

A new thought, subtle and insidious, occurred to her. Her attacker knew where she worked. Did he know where she lived, too?

Brady left the plastic chair to stand at her bedside. “What about her arm?”

“The swelling needs to go down before the fracture can be addressed.” To Olivia, he said, “Your nurse will make an appointment to get your cast put on. The orthopedic clinic is closed during the weekend, so it will be Monday. We’ll give you a sling to keep your arm stable until then.”

The doctor left, and Olivia was alone with Brady again. His austere expression hadn’t altered in the hours since their arrival, his laser-sharp gaze missing nothing. He’d remained by her side every minute, except for during the MRI, of course. The medical staff had barred him from entering the room. He hadn’t been happy about that. Despite their non-relationship, she was glad he’d stuck around. Brady kept her grounded whenever the memories pressed in and panic threatened.

“Can I get you anything?”

His blue-gray eyes assessed her with polite courtesy. This was his professional persona, crafted to hide his thoughts and emotions. She’d seen him drop the protective shield around only one person, and he was gone.

When she didn’t respond, Brady shifted, his hip nudging the bed as he stretched out his hand. He came short of touching her, however. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Everything.

“You’re pale.”

“I have a headache.” Unable to stand his shrewd inspection any longer, she shoved the blanket off and swung her legs over the side, forcing him to move back. Her bruised ankle protested. “Would you mind handing me my clothes? I’m leaving the moment she delivers the paperwork.”

He did as she asked. “There’s a detective waiting to take your statement. If you’re not feeling up to it, I can send him away.”

“How long has he been out there?”

“He approached me during your MRI. I told him he’d have to wait.”

She sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”

A half hour later, the interview had drained the last of her stamina. She was sore from the crown of her head down to her toes, and the lingering pain in her arm made her nauseated.

“That’s enough for now, Detective Shaw.” Brady opened the door to the hallway and delivered a pointed stare. “Olivia is overdue for some peace and quiet.”

For once, she was grateful for the captain’s observation skills. The silver-haired detective nodded in understanding and gave her a business card. “Call me if you remember anything else.”

“Will you let me know what you find on the security feeds?”

“Absolutely. We’ll also dust for prints on your original air cylinders. That may take longer.”

Brady waited in the hall while she changed back into her uniform. The pants were ripped at the knee and streaked with dirt. The fabric smelled dirty, almost metallic. The sick feeling grew. It took the last of her energy to block the day’s events. She wasn’t about to break down in front of Brady.

He didn’t bombard her with questions during the ride to the Marine Corps Air Station, a small base situated on the New River a few miles from the larger base, Camp Lejeune. The air station was home to the School of Infantry and the helicopter and tilt-rotor Osprey squadrons. There were also family living quarters, a commissary and exchange, bowling alley, library and movie theater. It had been her home for eighteen months. Seven of those she’d shared with Derek. Sometimes it didn’t seem possible that he’d been gone nearly a year.

They approached the main gate manned with three marines, and Brady entered the lane closest to the guard hut. As he flashed his military ID and offered a greeting, Olivia studied his face. The exhaustion he must be feeling didn’t show. There wasn’t a hint of stubble on his chiseled jaw. No shadows beneath his eyes. His blond hair, admittedly low-maintenance as short as it was, bore no evidence of his shark tank swim.

She’d met him two years ago this month. Two years, and they hadn’t shared much more than shallow conversation. Now he was her self-appointed companion, an up close witness to her fear, pain and vulnerability.

The darkness hid her grimace. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow she’d feel stronger and better prepared to deal with the fact someone wanted her dead.

The streets were damp from a recent rain and the sidewalks empty. In her cul-de-sac, Brady pulled the truck in to her driveway, killed the engine and stared out the windshield. Unlike the other two-story duplexes around them, hers didn’t pay homage to the autumn season with wreaths or pumpkins. The only personal touch was the Marine Corps sign above the garage door. He and Derek had nailed it up there together.

Brady didn’t move. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

She reached for the handle with her free hand. Her left arm was tucked safely into a sturdy black sling. “Thanks for the ride home. I’ll call someone to pick me up on their way to work in the morning.”

He shook his head as if to shake off a stupor. “I’m not leaving.”

Before she could ask exactly how long he planned to stay, he’d exited the vehicle and ushered her to the porch. Taking her key, he unlocked the door and entered first, flipping on lights and performing a sweep of her home.

“Even if this guy has my address, he can’t get to me here.”

He peeked into the half bath tucked beneath the stairs and dodged a collection of cardboard boxes packed with books. “Not necessarily. He could be military or have contacts that would grant him base access. Civilians staff the commissary and other businesses. They have access, too.”

Why hadn’t she thought of that? Feeling light-headed, Olivia managed to reach the couch dominating the opposite wall and sink onto a broad cushion. She closed her eyes and waited for the dizziness to pass.

A blanket whispered over her. She lifted her head and was surprised to see Brady so close, tucking the corners around her shoulders. His blue-gray eyes, which she associated with bleak winter skies, reflected concern. Shocking.

Crouching before her, he proceeded to untie her tennis shoes and gently work them off her feet. Her mouth dried.

“Stay put.” He straightened and strode to the kitchen.

Ordinarily, Olivia would’ve bristled at his authoritative tone. She certainly wouldn’t have remained on the couch while he rustled around in her domain. But this wasn’t an ordinary situation.

Warmth from the fuzzy blanket seeped into her aching, limp body, and her eyelids grew heavy. She curled into the sofa and was dozing off when he returned with a bowl of steaming soup. The aroma of chicken broth made her stomach growl.

“I heated up chicken noodle soup,” he said, setting a green soda can on the coffee table and handing her the bowl. “I couldn’t find crackers.”

“I didn’t bother restocking the pantry since I’m moving soon.”

“I noticed.” His careful gaze slid over the bare walls studded with protruding nails before returning to her. “Do you need help eating?”

“I can manage,” she croaked out. Brady spoon-feeding her? Not happening. “What about you? Wasn’t there enough for two?”

He lowered his lean, athletic frame into the recliner and splayed his hands over the curved arms. He had nice hands, she noted. No rings.

“I’m not hungry.”

She balanced the bowl on her knees and took several bites. “You seem comfortable taking care of the sick and injured.”

His eyes became hooded. “My grandmother was frail when I first got there. By the time I was fifteen, she was barely mobile.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for a kid,” she said cautiously.

“I owed her.”

A lump formed in her throat. Had his grandmother resented having to raise her young grandson? Had she made him feel like a burden?

Instead of voicing those questions, she kept the tone light. “What did you do for meals?”

“She taught me the basics.”

“There weren’t friends or neighbors to help out?”

His fingers gripped the leather until his knuckles went white. “My grandmother and I were basically on our own.”

She could picture him as a gangly young teen, hiding his hurting heart with defiant pride. Or maybe he’d been like he was now...polite to a fault, efficient and closed off. A loner determined not to give anyone the power to hurt him again.

Olivia now wished that she’d asked Derek how he’d managed to make friends with Brady. Knowing Derek, she thought fondly, he’d made a nuisance of himself until Brady had given in.

“You had to do the grocery shopping and house cleaning?”

“And pay the bills, when there was enough money to cover them, as well as the yard work and anything else that needed doing.” He leaned forward. “That’s enough about me. Let’s talk about you, Olivia. Who would want to kill you and why?”

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