Deadly Force (7 page)

A steady pressure on the back of her legs told her Maggie was leaning against them. Bianca couldn’t hear any sounds except for the normal ones coming from outside the boat, but that didn’t mean anything. Cal was quieter and quicker than any ninja, and Tephra no doubt was as well.

She flipped on the skeleton light bulb over the sink, then immediately turned it back off.
Stupid
. Even if Tephra couldn’t see the bathroom from outside, there was no sense spotlighting herself.

No sense in scaring herself either. While the mirror was flecked with water spots, and she’d only had a half second to see herself, the light had given her skin a sickly pall. The dark circles under her eyes and the cut across her cheek only added to the zombie effect. She pressed the cool washcloth to her cut. The blood was finally easing up.

She might not be a nurse, but she could guess the thin slash had been caused by glass and not a bullet. She sunk to the floor and put her back against the shower. Maggie eased up next to her and laid down with her head in Bianca’s lap.

Keeping her attention trained on the door, Bianca set down the washcloth and stroked the dog’s head. The gun was heavy in her right hand, heavier than she remembered the weapons being in her firearm training. But Cal was a big guy. His gun matched.

Firearm training…a memory of the day Cal had taught her to fire a small Walther PPK. Then a Beretta, a Glock, and lastly a Smith and Wesson. He’d figured she needed a variety of experiences with handguns, knowing she’d remember every gun, how to fire it, and how to clean it afterward.

Maggie lifted her head and nudged Bianca’s hand, jarring her from her reverie, her body going on alert. “What is it girl?”

She scanned the door and beyond, but the dog was staring up at her. The top of her dark head looked wet. Bianca ran a finger over the spot and realized it was blood. Her blood. The bleeding had kicked up again.

“Sorry.” Bianca used the washcloth to wipe off the top of the dog’s head.
Too much blood
. The washcloth was a mess. Bianca gained her feet and then had to grab the edge of the sink when the room spun.

Lightheaded
.

Not from loss of blood. From the loss of
everything
.

Her footing. Her career.

Cal.

Quickly, she rinsed the washcloth, washed her cheek again, and looked in the flat medicine cabinet.
Too dark. Need light
.

Only stupid heroines in horror movies turned on the lights.

A whitish box caught her eye. Bandages.
Hallelujah
.

She opened the box and fished one out. There was no way she was setting down the gun, so she used her teeth to rip open the stupid paper covering.

She was just about to stick the bandage on her cheek when the boat rocked hard and Maggie bolted from the room.

Bianca shifted to look around the doorway and lifted the gun. Where was that stupid dog going? “Get back here!”

All she could see was the dog’s butt and wagging tail. The rest of her was under the table. A second later, Maggie backed out and when she turned around, Bianca nearly laughed at what was in the dog’s mouth.

Purple plastic. Sparkles. A screen flashing with a silent incoming call.

My phone
.

A modicum of relief swept through her. Maybe she
should
call the police. Or Cooper Harris. Or…

Wait
…the phone was still connected to the video camera she’d installed above deck.

“Bring it here, girl.”

Maggie did, and Bianca retrieved the phone from her mouth, wiping the dog slobber off with the washcloth.

She’d turned off the ringer but it still vibrated in her hand. Speak of the devil…caller ID told her it was Cooper. Her automatic response was to answer, like she had when Ronni called, and pretend everything was normal. While the idea had appealed a minute ago, she didn’t want to have to explain the situation. Cooper was miles away. He couldn’t help her right here, right now.

She tapped the ignore button.

The call went to voicemail, and she swiped through her screens until she found the camera app. If she could get eyes on the marina again, she’d be able to see what was going on.

If Cal was in stealth mode, she’d never see him. Probably wouldn’t see Rory Tephra either. But if she could at least get the license plate of the SUV…

The app opened and the screen blurred. She ticked off a couple of seconds, waiting for it to clear and the marina entrance to come into focus.

It didn’t.

The kaleidoscope of white and gray shadows suggested the camera was facedown. She closed the app, reopened it, hoping it was a glitch.

The same picture appeared.

Damn. The wind had done a number on the camera even though she’d secured it as firmly as she could. Either that or the wind had blown something on top of the camera covering the lens.

Or maybe Tephra had covered it.

She needed to go check. Fix the camera and try to zoom in on that SUV if it was still there.

Trust Cal
. If the SUV was still out there, hopefully he got a look at it and memorized the plates.

Her heart thumped in her throat again. A part of her hoped the vehicle was gone. That Tephra was gone. That Cal was safe.

Above her head, she heard a soft thud, so soft she nearly missed it. The dog looked up at the same time she did, confirming it wasn’t her imagination. Her breath froze in her chest. Just the wind or a footstep?

Lowering the phone, she focused on the area beyond the bathroom. She could see the table and bench seat. Faint light from outside the cabin reflected on the glass littering the floor.

Another thud sounded, then a scrape across the deck off to her left.

The only bad thing about her hiding spot was the fact she couldn’t see the stairs. Couldn’t see who might be coming down them.

She raised the gun with both hands, keeping her arms straight and pointing toward the bathroom door opening. A Glock was good. Reliable, lightweight, seventeen rounds in the magazine. Trusted by law enforcement officers around the world.

Point and shoot.

She thought she heard a slight rustle…or was that another footstep? The boat seemed to list slightly to the left.

In her peripheral vision, she noticed Maggie had her ears perked. The dog’s body, next to Bianca’s, vibrated with tension. Excitement or fear?

Either she was losing it, or there was definitely another human presence on board. A bead of sweat rolled down Bianca’s neck and under her collar. The strong smell of the ocean after a storm hung in the air, the humidity high.

Something inside of her wanted to call out to Cal. She bit her lip. Giving away her location by not keeping her trap shut would be yet another stupid heroine move.

So she sat tight, debating whether to rise to her feet or stay low. If the presence on board was Tephra, and he came around the corner, he’d expect her to be standing, right? Her advantage lay in staying down and taking him by surprise.

A shadow fell across the floor outside the bathroom door. Her heart spiked with fear.
This is it.

Bianca took a soundless breath, dragging oxygen deep into her lungs, then let it out halfway, like Cal had taught her, and put her finger on the trigger.

Point and shoot.

Bianca felt something hit her hip, a swipe, swipe, swipe, right before she heard someone whisper “B?”

The only person who ever called her “B” was Cal.

Maggie’s tail wagged harder, beating against Bianca’s hip. “Cal?”

“Don’t shoot.”

She automatically lowered the gun, pulling her finger from the trigger and letting the rest of her breath go. Her muscles twitched, flexing and releasing from the surge of adrenaline still pouring through her system.

The shadow grew and Cal’s big body came into view. The relief that swamped her nearly laid her out right there on the bathroom floor. A sob caught in her throat and she jammed the back of her hand against her mouth.

Cal frowned, squeezing into the room. He patted the dog and squatted in front of Bianca. Maggie licked his face in greeting and he chuckled before running his hand over Bianca’s hair and giving her ponytail a little tug. “Whoever it was is gone. You’re safe.”

She couldn’t help it—she grabbed his shoulders and dropped her forehead to his chest. “Thank you.”

One hand rubbed her back. The other stayed at the base of her neck. “We need to move. He may come back.”

The smell of him, part soap from his shower and part ocean spray, filled her nostrils. Her cheek burned from the cut. “Where should we go?” she asked.

He released her and confiscated the gun from the floor. “Sit tight. I have a plan.”

She didn’t want to turn loose of his shoulders, his solidness, but she did anyway.
Distance
. She had to keep some, no matter how vulnerable she felt right now. She couldn’t let him and his protectiveness worm their way back under her skin.

But, oh, did she ever want to. Heart sad, she watched him disappear once more, heading for the upper deck. A few seconds later, the boat’s engine roared to life.

Chapter Six

Bianca stayed put for several minutes, wondering where they were going. Maggie happily left her, toenails clacking on the steps as she went topside following her master.

I’d like to do that too
.

Cal was a conundrum. Always had been. She wouldn’t call him nice or even particularly polite. In fact, at times, he was downright unfriendly and inconsiderate, and being married to him was more challenging than decrypting China’s North Korea strategy.

But he was brave and loyal to a fault. Duty and honor were the driving motives for everything he did. Those qualities practically oozed from his pores, making her fall for him time and time again, even if he did forget little things like, say, her birthday.

He better make it up to me next year…if I live that long
.

Of course, even if she did live to see another birthday, she and Cal would be divorced by then. If he couldn’t remember her birthday when they were together, he certainly wouldn’t remember it when they were apart.

Granted, this year had been the first time he’d forgotten, and he’d been out of the country for weeks on a mission along the Syrian border, but still…

A therapist had once told her that if there was more than a fifteen point difference in IQ between her and her partner, the chances of them having a successful relationship were extremely low. They would lack the right amount of communication for a healthy relationship.

What Bianca had determined, however, was that it wasn’t the difference in their IQ that caused a lack of communication with Cal. It was that they both suffered from a low EQ.

The boat picked up speed, probably clearing the marina and heading for open water. Bianca heard a dull thud in the cabin and a rolling sound. The coffee cup. It must have fallen off the table and rolled along the floor. She grabbed the sink for balance and hauled herself to her feet. A quick splash of water on her face, a new bandage, and she peeked into the cabin.

Sure enough, the coffee in Cal’s mug had joined the glass on the floor and the cup was rolling back and forth, whacking the handle against the bench seat. Wind howled through the broken window, mixing with salt spray. The sailcloth curtain hung in tatters.

So much for the boat not being seaworthy. The way the thing was bouncing and gyrating through the water, it seemed to be holding up just fine.

Shuffle-walking to the bed, she held on to the shelf nearby and stole a look outside.

They were heading north, out of the bay. She craned her neck and chanced looking behind them. The marina grew smaller, no black SUV anywhere to be seen.

Drawing in a deep breath, she edged back from the window and let it out slowly.
Safe
.

At least for now.

Where did they go from here? Could Tephra follow them on the water? It wasn’t like they could stay out on the ocean forever.

Focus on the here and now
.

Her cheek stung and her legs shook, but she forced herself not to sit down on the bed and have a good cry. Instead, she hunted for something to clean up the glass. The last thing she needed was for the dog to cut her paws and Cal to blame her for that on top of everything else.

The two cabinets under the sink held a garbage can and a few cleaning products. A worn-out broom and dustpan sat in a tall cabinet next to the stairs. Bianca moved them aside and started rapping lightly on the cheap plywood wall behind the broom.
This is where Cal disappeared
.

Her knuckles hit a section that had more give and made a lighter sound. A hidden door.

Her fingertips ran over the wood and found a tiny notch. One that looked almost natural in the cheap paneling. When she curled her fingers into it and gave it a tug it didn’t budge. But when she pushed, a section gave way.

The hidden door swung open to reveal a compact space. On all three sides, various handguns and knives were meticulously placed, ready for someone to grab.
Cal’s own personal gun safe.