A Baby Changes Everything (18 page)

Though she knew the chances of the fabric being torn from the Lost Fortune's clothing were slim, she pushed up a sleeve and reached to retrieve it. Just short of touching the water, she jerked her hand back to fist against her thigh. She gulped as she stared into the murky water. She wasn't a sissy. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But she had a deathly fear of snakes, and water moccasins, one of Texas's most poisonous snakes, made their homes in lakes and ponds.

Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she glanced Gabe's way, thinking she'd ask him to retrieve the piece of cloth.

But if she did, she would be exposing her fear of snakes, something she was reluctant to do, as she knew she would be setting herself up to be on the receiving end of practical jokes from not only Gabe, but every guy on the force. Rubber snakes in her desk. Curled on the seat of her car. Stuffed into her mail slot. The possibilities were endless.

With a sigh of resignation, she shrugged off her blazer, leaving her arms bare, then drew in a deep breath and thrust her hand into the water. She shuddered in revulsion as long strands of weeds brushed against her fingers and wound around her arm. The colorful bit of fabric swayed inches from her fingertips, and she leaned farther over, straining to reach it.

“Just a little bit more,” she encouraged under her breath.

She heard a sharp popping sound and, at the same moment, felt the plank beneath her right knee give way. She only had time to draw in one shocked breath before the board broke and she was pitched headfirst into the water.

As she plunged downward, vegetation grabbed at her and slapped at her face. In her mind, each tendril was a snake, slithering over her skin. She wanted to scream, but the thought of swallowing even a teaspoon of the vile water kept the sound lodged in her throat.

Fear had her kicking hard and fighting her way back to the top. As she broke through the surface, she released the scream that burned in her throat. Sobbing, she clawed at the slime that clung to her arms and chest while trying to remain afloat.

Something hard and flat slammed against the top of her head—a pressure she realized was Gabe's hand a split second before he shoved her down under the water. She came up sputtering and slapping at him, blinded by the water in her eyes.

“Andi!” he shouted. “Relax! I've got you.”

Before she could tell him she wasn't drowning, he hooked an arm beneath her chin and began to drag her toward shore. Once on the bank, he released her, dumping her unceremoniously in the mud and moss on the concrete boat ramp.

He dropped down next to her and blew out a long breath. “Lucky thing I was here,” he said. “Otherwise you might've drowned.”

Sprawled in mud and slime, she pushed up to her elbows and scowled at his back. “I wasn't drowning, you idiot.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Then why the scream?”

Embarrassed that he'd heard that, she sat up and brushed at the weeds that clung to her slacks, avoiding his gaze. “I'm scared of snakes,” she admitted reluctantly.

He stared a moment, then hooted a laugh. “Hell, if there was a snake within a mile of you, you
would've scared it away with all that flapping around you were doing.” He pushed to his feet. “We better get out of these wet clothes.” He offered her a hand. “Come on. Let's go to my place and get cleaned up. I've got a washer and dryer.”

Though she'd have preferred a long soak in her own tub, the thought of the thirty-odd-minute drive back to town in muddy clothes made her reconsider. “All right,” she agreed and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “But I'm getting that piece of fabric off the post before I go anywhere.”

“I'll get it.”

She knew she should insist upon retrieving it herself, to prove to him she wasn't a coward. But the thought of going anywhere near that pier kept her lips sealed tight.

She watched him drop down on his stomach at the end of the pier and reach into the water. “Can you tell what it is?” she called as he pulled his arm out.

He stood and lifted the scrap of fabric for her to see. “Orange canvas from a life preserver. Judging by its rotted state, I'd say it's been here for years.”

Her shoulders sagged in disappointment.

Another dead end.

 

…NOT THE END…