Stranded With Her Ex (14 page)

Chapter 14

T
he instant Sean awoke, he knew something was wrong. The room was pale with early morning light, and rain spattered the windowpane.

Daniela was in the lower bunk, fast asleep.

Then he heard Jason’s muffled voice in the hall, along with the sound of hurried footsteps and opening doors. Frowning, Sean climbed down from the top bunk and pulled on his discarded trousers. Dani stirred, murmuring his name in her sleep. He crossed the room in two strides, opening the door to look out.

Jason was searching the other bedrooms, an anxious expression on his face. His hair stuck up on one side, and his pants were only half-buttoned. “Do you know where Elizabeth is?” he asked.

Sean could see into Elizabeth’s room. Her bed looked rumpled, and empty. “No.”

Jason moved on, ducking his head into Taryn’s room. She blinked at him groggily. “Wh-what do you want?”

“I’m looking for Elizabeth.”

She glanced around in confusion.

Jason made a sound of frustration and continued down the hall, to Brent’s room. His door was closed, but unlocked. When Jason pushed it open, the edge of the door hit Brent’s legs, which were hanging over the end of the bed.

Brent was so startled he got tangled up in his sleeping bag and fell off the other side. “What the hell?” he growled, lurching to his feet.

“Have you seen Elizabeth?”

“Not since last night.”

“She’s missing,” Jason said.

Daniela came up beside Sean, her face showing concern. Taryn appeared in the doorway across the hall. Brent stood next to Jason, silent. “Elizabeth is
missing,
” he repeated. “Am I speaking English?”

“Well, she must be around here somewhere,” Sean said, scratching his jaw. “Did you check outside?”

“Not yet.”

“How did she get by you? I thought you were watching the front door.”

Jason raked a hand through his hair, chagrined. “I fell asleep.”

Sean walked down the hall, toward Elizabeth’s room. He was no longer concerned with protecting her privacy. The safety of the crew took precedence.

Jason joined him, his expression grim. The room was small, and there wasn’t much to snoop through. The closet, her laptop, a single suitcase. He opened the closet first. Two oars rested inside, propped against the wall.

Their eyes met.

“Holy Christ,” Sean muttered, shocked to the core.

They searched the rest of the room quickly, finding nothing else of interest.

“Check her computer,” Taryn suggested. “Maybe the daily logs can give us a clue about her state of mind.”

Sean wasn’t able to access her laptop without a password. On the top of Elizabeth’s desk, however, there was a flash drive. He took it downstairs to the office computer, searching its contents.

Everyone gathered around the screen, curious.

Before he opened the logs, he noticed that a video file with Brent’s name on it had recently been viewed. Sean pressed play. And encountered the most disturbing footage imaginable.

A burly redheaded man was swimming in turquoise waters. He wore no protective gear, just a tie-dyed tank top, old swim trunks and a snorkel. The mask was pushed up on his forehead. His shoulders were covered with brown freckles and patches of paler skin, as if he frequently burned and peeled.

Those details were peripheral to what was happening in the water. The guy was swimming with
sharks.
Not just any sharks, but some damned big ones. A group of ten-foot bulls darted around him aggressively, their tails stiff.

Sean recognized the sign of an impending attack. The man in the video ignored the warning signals. He didn’t attempt to get out of the water, nor did he have the sense to stay still or be quiet. Laughing like a madman, he reached out to stroke the sharks’ tails.

The viewer could tell that the footage was being filmed by a young man on the deck of a charter boat. Brent. His voice was that of an uncertain boy. He expressed concern over the man’s reckless behavior, and several other tourists murmured their disapproval.

The actual attack was short and brutal.

One of the sharks struck, tearing at the man’s legs. A bright burst of blood tainted the water. He hollered once and went white, going into shock almost immediately. Shrill cries rang out from the deck. Brent made a strange sound, like a whimper, but he held the camera steady.

Sean couldn’t have said why the sharks didn’t continue to attack. After what seemed like an agonizingly long interval, a safety ring was tossed to the man in the water. He was able to grab it. Two other men pulled him onto the deck.

His legs were severed from the knees down. The remaining flesh was hanging there like ragged clothes, in bloody, uneven tatters.

The boy Brent finally lost his composure. He turned away from the gruesome sight and ran to the side of the boat, where he became violently ill.

After the scene ended, Sean looked up, gauging the reactions of the rest of the crew. Daniela had her fist pressed to her mouth. Taryn was pale and silent. Jason flew across the room, going straight for Brent.

“She watched that,” he said, slamming him into the living room wall. “How could you let her see that?”

Brent pushed him backward, holding his ground. “I didn’t give it to her. She must have hacked into my files.”

Jason grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “Why would you keep that on your laptop?”

Brent made a face. “I was trying to edit it a few weeks ago. Elizabeth’s mother asked for a copy of the footage after he died. I thought I might be able to do some clever tricks to make it look less graphic.”

Jason’s hold loosened. There was no way to make that footage less graphic. But he couldn’t fault Brent for trying. “I’m going to check the outbuildings,” he said in a far-off voice. “If I don’t find her in the next few minutes, we’ll organize a search.”

“Good idea,” Sean said. “Taryn, why don’t you get some coffee going? The rest of us will put our gear on.”

She nodded smartly, and they all dispersed, ready to work as a team.

While Jason went out into the pounding rain, Sean followed Daniela back to his room, hoping that a search and rescue effort wouldn’t be necessary. Shaken, he sat down in the chair and laced up his boots, trying not to watch her change clothes.

It was a lost cause. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of pale skin and black lace. She pulled on a pair of cargo pants and a thermal shirt before he could see more, but no amount of fabric could disguise her curves.

Her gaze met his, and he couldn’t look away. Last night, he’d poured his heart out to her. Yesterday, she’d seen him cry. Today, he should have felt like a sentimental fool. He didn’t. But the ease with which he was falling in love with her again—or perhaps just realizing he’d never fallen out of love—scared the hell out of him.

As soon as this was finished, and they were safe in San Francisco, he was going to have a serious talk with her. Not the fumbling, half-assed attempt at communication he usually managed, but a real conversation.

He wanted her back.

When she finished dressing, they went downstairs together, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the taut silence.

Jason came in from the rain a few moments later, shivering like a wet dog. He was breathing hard, from either panic or exertion, and his eyes were anxious.

Sean felt sorry for him. He’d been there, in that exact state of mind, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Grabbing the polyurethane-sealed map from the back counter, Jason placed it on the table. “I didn’t see any footprints, but it’s raining pretty hard out there. Not much visibility from the tower, either. And there’s no sign of her in the outbuildings.”

“We should go to the bird blind first,” Taryn recommended, taking a sip of coffee. “I bet she’s there.”

Jason nodded. “Why don’t you and Brent head out that way? If she isn’t at the blind, you can check the north side.” He made a path on the map with his fingertip. “We found the skinned seal there.”

Brent studied the general area and murmured his assent.

Jason tapped a point on the other side of the island. “As long as Daniela’s up to it, you two can hit the sea lion blind and Dead Man’s Beach.”

Beside him, Daniela shivered. She was probably thinking about the lady in white, her pale limbs washed ashore. “Of course,” she said. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll head up to the tower—”

“You should stay here,” Sean said, cutting off Jason. “What if she comes back?”

Jason frowned. “I want to search.”

“We don’t want to miss a call from the Coast Guard,” Brent added. “If you’d rather go with Taryn, I can stay.”

Jason deliberated for a moment. “Okay. I know the terrain better than you, anyway. I want everyone to remain alert, and be aware of your surroundings. We have to consider the possibility that Elizabeth is emotionally unstable. Dangerous, even.” He looked around the room, as if hoping someone would dispute the idea. No one did.

Sean left his coffee on the table. “Let’s go.”

Each team took a two-way radio, and Brent kept one on his belt. They left him alone in the house and stepped outside. The rain had begun to let up a little, but a group of dark clouds loomed on the horizon, promising more bad weather.

Sean led Daniela down the craggy cliffs, toward the sea lion blind.

They didn’t see any evidence of Elizabeth there. The concrete structure offered protection from the wind and rain, so it seemed a likely choice for someone needing shelter, but there were dozens of other places to hide.

Every moment she stayed missing, the situation became more strained.

They moved on, checking for footprints on Dead Man’s Beach. The surface was smooth and clean, a fresh, cool blanket of maize.

“Where do you think she went?” she said, dragging the tip of her boot through the stiff upper layer of sand.

He thrust his hands into his pockets, reluctant to answer.

Daniela thought about the conversation she’d had with Elizabeth at the lighthouse tower, remembering her distraught expression and her frightening proximity to the cliffs. “I feel sorry for her.”

“Don’t feel too sorry. I’d bet anything that she skinned the seal and rigged the railing. Not to mention sabotaging the engine.”

“She’s not over her father’s death. Seeing that footage traumatized her.”

He stared at the dark, stormy sea, pensive.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you were attacked,” she murmured.

An emotion she couldn’t identify flickered in his brown eyes. “I would never take an unnecessary risk.”

“Not on purpose.”

He only shook his head, falling silent. She knew he didn’t like to talk about death. The idea that he could suffer a fatal accident, and prompt her next nervous breakdown, was too painful to consider.

She watched the waves roll in to the shore, heavy and ominous.

“Maybe I should get another aumakua necklace.”

She jerked her gaze back to his, surprised. It was the first time he’d made a reference to Natalie’s funeral.

The ceremony had taken place less than a month after the accident, and she’d been a zombie, too weak to walk. Sean had wanted to carry her, but she’d refused his support, relying on a hospital wheelchair instead.

She remembered watching him as he stood over the tiny coffin, paying his respects. At the nape of his neck, just above the collar of his dark suit, there was a simple leather cord. On it hung a fossilized shark tooth, known to many surfers as Hawaiian aumakua, or a protective spirit. He’d had the necklace since he was a boy and he never took it off.

Until that day.

Shoulders trembling with emotion, he’d torn the cord from his neck. After pressing his lips to the tooth, he’d knelt and placed it on the surface of the coffin.

Tears filled her eyes at the memory.

“I know you took her death harder than I did,” Sean said. “You cried more, and you grieved longer. It made me feel like I didn’t love her enough.” He touched the hollow of his throat reflexively. “But I did.”

Her heart clenched with sorrow, and she closed her eyes, feeling the hot spill of tears down her cheeks. The rain began to fall in earnest, pelting the hood of her jacket and perforating the surface of the sand.

He stepped forward, bringing her into the shelter of his arms, and she let him. She let him comfort her. Tucking her head against his chest, she clutched the front of his jacket and cried, absorbing his warmth and accepting his strength, hanging on to her man while the world came crashing down around them.

At long last, she allowed herself to be protected by him.

Then the radio at his waist crackled with distortion, interrupting the tender moment, and they broke apart.

Cursing, Sean took the receiver off his belt and brought it to his ear, trying to hear over the sound of the deluge.

“…check in.”

It was Jason.

He spoke into the receiver. “This is Sean. Can you repeat, over?”

“I said I wanted everyone to check in.”

Sean exchanged a glance with her. “No sign of Elizabeth here.”

“Same on this side,” Jason said. “We’ve got nothing. I think we should head in. Brent, can you notify the authorities?”

“Will do. Over.”

After Sean signed off, they stared at each other for a long moment. She hadn’t felt this close to him since the accident. It shamed her to admit that she had no idea what he’d gone through. She’d been so caught up in her own grief, she couldn’t see his.

Everything that had happened over the past few days was worth it, for this single instance. This simple conversation.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, her hands on his face.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her palm.

Their ability to discuss Natalie, even briefly, didn’t make their child’s death any less of a tragedy. Even so, Daniela felt as though a crushing weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Her daughter was a real person, loved and lost, rather than a sad, dark secret.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and they left the beach, hand in hand. All around them rain continued to fall, strong and steady, like the beating of a heart.