Ladyfish

• Synopsis
  
• Acknowledgments
  
• Dedication
  
• Prologue
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-one
  
• Chapter Twenty-two
  
• Chapter Twenty-three
  
• Chapter Twenty-four
  
• Chapter Twenty-five
  
• Chapter Twenty-six
  
• Chapter Twenty-seven
  
• Chapter Twenty-eight
  
• Chapter Twenty-nine
  
• Chapter Thirty
  
• Chapter Thirty-one
  
• Chapter Thirty-two
  
• Chapter Thirty-three
  
• Chapter Thirty-four
  
• Chapter Thirty-five
  
• Chapter Thirty-six
  
• Chapter Thirty-seven
  
• Chapter Thirty-eight
  
• Chapter Thirty-nine
  
• Epilogue
  
• About the Author
  
• Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
  

Can love blossom beneath the waves of the Florida Keys? Or will the shadows that haunt two strangers prove too much to survive?

Scuba diving instructor Olivia Zuckerman loves guiding tourists under the water almost as much as she loves guiding women to her bed. Coerced into picking up a new trainee from the airport, Oz has no idea that her life is about to change in every imaginable way.

Daniela Finnsbury-Sterling, Finn to her friends, is trying to break away from an overbearing father, a man intent on making her life fit his plans. Desperate to make her own way, she escapes to Florida to train as a diving instructor. She knows it won’t be easy. She knows her father will do anything he can to force her back into line. Unfortunately, she has no idea exactly what
anything
will be!

Ladyfish

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Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

Ladyfish

© 2012 By Andrea Bramhall. All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-798-1

This Electronic Book is published by

Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

P.O. Box 249

Valley Falls, New York 12185

First Edition: October 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Credits

Editors: Victoria Oldham and Cindy Cresap

Production Design: Susan Ramundo

Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

Thank you to everyone at Bold Strokes Books. Radclyffe, Vic, Cindy—you guys rock! Without you,
Ladyfish
wouldn’t be the book it is.

Louise, I know you end up getting stuck walking the dogs while I’m hunched over my laptop. Sorry, but you demanded I keep you in the manner to which you feel you should be accustomed. I’m trying! Merlin and Jazz—thank you for looking after your other mother.

Gran, read this copy with the black lines in it, and this copy only!

Dad—For everything. Thanks.

Louise,

Nunc scio, quid sit amor

From Virgil,
Eclogues VIII

“This has got to be the most boring job in the whole of fucking London!” Mike tossed the clipboard onto the table and leaned back in his chair, propping his dirty work boots onto the table. “She never does anything!”

“Get your fucking feet off the table.” Jack smacked his feet and picked up the clipboard. “I don’t care how boring this is. If the boss wants us to watch her, we watch her. Do you understand me?”

“For fuck’s sake! I’m here, aren’t I?” Mike dropped his feet back to the floor, running his hand through his shaggy, greasy blond hair.

“It could be worse, Mike.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“We could be watching that fucking faggot friend of hers.”

Mike snorted. “You got a point there.” He rubbed his hands over his grime-smeared jeans as he leaned forward to stare closer at the screens. “She certainly is easier on the eye.” He laughed a little harder as his hand edged closer to his crotch.

“Knock it off, you fucking pervert.” Jack flipped through the pages on the clipboard.

September twentieth.

0900 subject arrives at bio lab

0935 subject went to bathroom

1200 subject went to cafeteria for lunch

1232 subject returned to her desk

1730 subject leaves for the day.

“Do we still have the shadow on her computer to track what she’s working on?” Jack asked.

Mike reached for a file at the far end of the counter and passed it to him.

Jack slid the information from the file and looked through the pages. “Looks like she’s still working on that E. coli bacteria.”

“Has the old man got her working on the toxin like the American guy? I didn’t think she was involved in all that?”

“I don’t know, and I find it’s usually best to not ask questions with Sterling. What’s she doing now?”

Mike peered through the binoculars before answering. “Packing her bags. Looks like she’s getting ready for that holiday he organized for them.” He let the binoculars fall to his lap. “I still don’t get that. Why the fuck does he want her with that puff?”

“It’s none of your business.” Jack stuffed the pages back into the folder and stared out at the historic buildings along the prestigious Camden Town Terrace. A man jogged down the street with his pug trotting along beside him. Porsches, Mercedes, and Audis were parked in driveways, and people went on with their lives, oblivious.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Do as you’re told and don’t ask questions. So are you heading to Florida to watch her?”

“That sounded like a question, Mike.”

“He’s got us watching them both twenty-four seven while they’re at home and work. Now he sends them to Miami and doesn’t want them watched. It just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“He has plenty of people out there without having to send us to keep an eye on the little princess and her queen.” Jack narrowed his eyes and watched Mike closely. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t have important things to take care of. He’s always ten steps ahead of everyone else.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “So what time do they fly?”

“They’re on the seven p.m. flight tomorrow.”

“And how long are they away for?”

“Undetermined at the moment. Sterling thinks a month should be fine.”

“Is he still concerned about MI6 sniffing around?”

Jack snorted. “Not really. They haven’t got anything on him.”

“What are they looking for?”

Jack’s hands paused, the pages stilled between his fingers. He looked at Mike.

Mike swallowed audibly.

“These sound an awful lot like questions, Mike. You sure are getting nosey now, aren’t ya?”

Mike shook his head quickly. “No, no questions, Jack. Really. I’m just real bad at phrasing my statements.” He straightened in front of the screens and grabbed the clipboard. He didn’t move as Jack stood and moved about the room. Sweat slid down his forehead. He didn’t turn his head as the floorboards creaked beneath Jack’s feet. Jack moved around the dingy flat examining the light fittings, lamps, telephone sockets, behind the monitors, binoculars, radios. He silently screwed the silencer onto the barrel of his Glock.

“Stand up.”

Mike shook as he stood, scraping the chair across the bare floorboards.

“Take your shirt off.”

Mike’s hands trembled as he reached for the hem of the stained T-shirt.

“Jack, there’s really no need to do this.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jack said, his voice low and menacing. “Take your shirt off.”

Mike lifted his sweat-soaked shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor with trembling hands.

“Turn around.”

Mike turned slowly to display the microphone taped against his skin.

Jack ripped it from his chest and used the butt of his gun to smash it to pieces.

“Where are the other devices?”

“Jack, please.” The butt of the gun slammed into his mouth and he fell to the ground. He spat the stringy red saliva onto the floor and tried to stand again.

“Where are the other devices?”

“I don’t know.”

“Cameras?”

He shook his head.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” The bullet ripped through Mike’s skull. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Jack flipped open his mobile phone and clicked a button.

“Sir, it’s Jack. Yes, sir, I’m sorry to disturb you. I think we may have a problem.”

Oz woke to the gentle caress of fingernails gliding down the naked skin of her back, teasing their way beneath the sheet and skimming across her hip until she caught them and stilled their advance.

“What time is it?” Her voice was husky with sleep and her eyes still refused to open.

“A little after seven.” The soft whisper sent shivers down her neck until the words penetrated her brain and she sat bolt upright in bed.

“Shit.” She jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom, stubbing her toe on the doorframe as she did so. “Ow, shit.”

“Oz, what’s wrong?”

“I gotta be on the dive boat in thirty minutes,” she said, her mouth foaming with toothpaste as she rushed through her morning routine.

“You mean you’re leaving?”

“Shelley, you know I gotta work. I’ve got beginners out on the reef today.”

“But it’s my last day here, Oz. I thought you’d want to spend it with me.”

Oz threw water on her face and dragged her fingers through her hair. Aiming for endearingly tousled and arriving at slightly damp bed head, she grabbed a towel and stalked from the bathroom in search of her clothes. She managed to find her shorts, tank top, and sandals in the living room. Her panties were nowhere to be found, so she dragged her shorts up her legs without anything under them. Shelley slid her arms around Oz’s waist as she attempted to lure her back to bed.