Dangerous Waters (5 page)

Twenty minutes later, Finn walked into Thom’s office and closed the door softly behind him. Their relationship was complicated, and he owed Thom more than he could ever repay.

Thomas Edgefield had raised him from the time he was thirteen years old, when his brother had hit their father over the head with a beer bottle and killed him. Thanks to a ruthless prosecutor, a shitty defense attorney, and a harsh judge, sixteen-year-old Brent Carver had been charged as an adult, convicted of second-degree murder, and ended up serving twenty years. Those years in prison had changed Brent from a loving and overprotective brother to a hardened ex-con who’d refused every overture of friendship Finn had made in the years since his conviction. When Brent got out three years ago, he’d been a cold-eyed stranger with none of the easygoing attitude of his youth. He’d gradually forced everyone who’d ever cared about him out of his life, and even though Finn had been back in Bamfield for nearly two years, they still hadn’t really spoken.

Finn intended to change that, but first he needed answers to some hard questions from Thom—a man generous enough to take pity on a smart-mouthed, snot-nosed brat when he’d still been suffering from the loss of his own family.

Thom gave him a tired smile. “The cops been to see you yet?”

Finn stared at him closely. Thom’s face was an unhealthy color that might just be exhaustion, deep grooves lining the leathery skin. The last twenty-four hours had been grueling.

“I took an officer down to see the body. They’re all out at Crow Point gathering evidence. I told them they could eat here if they wanted and interview us then too.”

“Good idea. I have another piece of information I wanted to give them about the time Bianca disappeared—”

“I don’t think this is the right time for that, Thom.” He let his impatience show.

Thom must have traced the movements of every person in the village the day his wife had been murdered. It was either a stranger who’d attacked Bianca or someone from the village was lying. Thom had spent his life trying to prove which.

“You think I’m being insensitive?” Thom snapped. “Using this new murder to stir up interest in one they haven’t been able to solve in nearly thirty years?”

Jesus
. Finn’s thoughts screeched to a halt. Would Thom kill to rekindle interest in his wife’s death? He’d been badgering the cops to reopen the investigation for years.

He narrowed his eyes. Most people thought Thom was unhinged in his obsession. Finn had only ever seen desperation. What if he was wrong?

Finn stared out the huge picture window in Thom’s office. It overlooked the Coast Guard station and the Broken Islands. There probably wasn’t a more spectacular view in the world, but neither of them was admiring it right now.

“I got a closer look at the corpse when I took that cop down.” He watched his boss carefully.

Thom pressed a hand to his stomach. “God. What a terrible thing.” He looked up, cheeks as hollow as teacups. “I wouldn’t have got out of that tomb alive if it wasn’t for you. You saved my life. Thank you.”

“I should never have let you talk me into a goddamn night dive.”

Thom had the grace to look ashamed. “If I’d had any idea there was a dead man down there, believe me, I would never have insisted—”

“When did you get the new dive knife?”

The older man looked puzzled by the brusque interruption. “I picked it up in Tofino last weekend.” He stood.

“Why?” The question was a shotgun blast and Thom flinched. Finn didn’t like being lied to or manipulated. Not by the one person he trusted.

Thom leaned heavily against the windowsill. “Because I couldn’t find my old one.” His lips pressed together, bloodless. “What’s the matter?” he asked quietly.

Finn moved closer so no flapping ears could eavesdrop. “I’m pretty sure that’s your old knife sticking out of that corpse down there.”

Thom turned so pale Finn worried he was about to have a heart attack, but dammit, he needed answers. “Did you kill him? Did you set this whole thing up to get the cops back out here?”

Thom shook his head. “I would never hurt anyone.”

“Seriously?” Finn’s lip curled. That was so not his mantra. “All those bastards who’ve mocked and maligned you over the years? The guy who almost beat you to death? You wouldn’t want them to suffer even a little?”

“I don’t believe in violence. You know that.” It was a whispered, vehement hiss.

“Not even for the man who smashed in your wife’s head with a hammer, murdered your infant son and daughter?”

Thom’s face crumpled into a network of fine lines, and Finn wanted to stop pushing but couldn’t afford to. There was too much at stake.

Thom sank his face into both hands. “I don’t want him dead. I want justice. I want the truth.” His jaw worked frantically, as if he was trying to persuade himself. “God, maybe I do want him dead.” His breath started hitching in his chest, and Finn’s anger evaporated. He shook his head and pulled the old man into an awkward embrace.

“Don’t tell the cops about the knife,” he whispered quietly into Thom’s ear.

Thom pulled away, his mouth agape. “I can’t lie to them.”

“You will be top of the suspect list, and we both know how many people would be happy to throw you to the wolves.”

Thom’s eyes were bloodshot and wide. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Maybe this is just another way to try to get rid of you. They can’t get past me, so they’re trying to get you out of here any way they can.” Two years ago, someone had beaten Thom nearly to death, and Finn had given up his career as a soldier to make sure it didn’t happen again. It still wasn’t enough.

“I’m not that important.”

Finn laughed. “You’ve single-handedly kept organized crime out of Bamfield for years.”

Thom shook his head again. “I can’t lie to the police. What if the reason they can’t solve Bianca’s murder is because someone told a little white lie that no one thought would do any harm?”

“They can’t solve Bianca’s murder because it happened thirty years ago and no one saw a goddamned thing. She was caught alone in the woods by a maniac with a hammer.” Why wouldn’t the guy just leave it alone? It was horrific and awful, but why couldn’t he just drop it and move on?

But it was all Thomas really cared about.

“Forensics weren’t what they are now.” Thom doggedly dug into one of his many recurring arguments.

There was only one way to do this, and Finn hated himself for it. “Listen, if you tell the cops that your dive knife is the murder weapon, you’re going to end up in jail. Then who’s going to carry on looking for Bianca’s killer? The RCMP?”

Thom’s expression hardened. “They gave up a long time ago.”

“Exactly. She’ll be forgotten by everyone.” Finn gripped his friend’s arm, doing this for his own good. “Let’s keep it quiet and figure out how and why someone stole your knife before we tell the police, right?”

“You’re right. We know we didn’t kill him.” The older man nodded vigorously. “I’ll plead ignorance. People always seem convinced I haven’t got a clue about what I’m talking about anyway.” His faded gray eyes held self-deprecating humor. Thom Edgefield was a good man, but there was no doubt he had moments of madness.

“Let’s just keep a lid on it, huh? Try to act like neither of us is fucked up.”

There was a knock, and a moment later Sgt. Holly Rudd poked her head around the door. “Can I come in?”

Thom took one look at her and fainted dead away.

“What the hell? You have that effect on many people?”

“I’ve knocked a few on their ass, but…no, I don’t normally make them pass out.” Just what she needed.

Finn bent over the incapacitated man, checking his pulse.

“Is he all right?”

“I don’t know. Pulse is strong. Breathing steady. No history of heart trouble. His color isn’t great, but we were both up all night, so he might just be tired. I think he’s coming round.” He sat back on his heels. “Gladys!” he yelled.

“Is that the secretary? She isn’t there anymore.” Holly craned her head to see into the empty outer office.

He pulled out his cell. “You should probably leave. I’m getting the doc up here.”

She noticed the way he hovered protectively over the guy. Oh, man, had she ever read him wrong earlier. A rush of relief swept over her. “How long have you two been together?”

“I came back to work here a couple of years ago.” He paused for a moment and his pupils flared as he looked at her. Then his lips tugged into an annoyed smile. “You think me and him are…”

“Gay?” Her voice cracked.

“Really?” He let his eyes wander down her body, and she felt a sudden flush of heat as blood infused her skin. “You really think that?”

“Well, you’re fussing over him like an old maid, I just figured—”

“
Ha
. An old maid?” Those bright eyes looked like blue ink. “Well, you figured wrong, Sherlock. He’s a friend of mine. I take good care of my friends.”

Holly felt foolish on too many levels to even think about. And slightly threatened, even though he hadn’t moved an inch. There was something about his powerful frame and the controlled way he moved that suggested he could dominate any situation. A black belt in aikido and boxing champ at her weight, she wasn’t scared of much. She knew he could hurt her if he wanted, but she wasn’t about to wimp out just because a guy was bigger than she was. Pain was a part of life; it was how you dealt with it that mattered.

The look on his face was fierce. “Are you supposed to be a good cop?”

Her lips tightened. “I
am
a good cop.”

“Well, your instincts are screwed.”

“And maybe you’re in the closet.”

His laugh sent a shiver of heat down to her bones. She was bluffing and they both knew it. “Do me a favor and look for solid clues rather than making half-assed assumptions. Thom is like a father to me. I’m as straight as you are.” Their gazes locked, and her mouth went dry as sand. She had to drag her eyes away.

She’d wanted him to be gay. Being a hot gay guy would be absolutely fantastic, but once again luck wasn’t going her way. It amused him, she could tell. And he was obviously less than impressed with her deductive skills, because, despite everything, the frisson of attraction crackled between them, as obvious as forked lightning on a moonless night.

She raised her chin. “It was a possible scenario.”

“Bianca?” Thom Edgefield’s voice rasped in his throat. She’d almost forgotten about the poor guy. His eyes popped open, and he stared at her as if he’d seen a proverbial ghost.

Finn’s gaze sharpened on her features. He looked back at the older man. “That isn’t Bianca, Thom. This here is Sergeant Holly Rudd. She’s a cop.”

“Who’s Bianca?” she asked.

Professor Edgefield tried to climb to his feet, but Finn pressed a hand on his chest. “Just rest easy. It isn’t her.”

“Who’s he talking about? Who’s Bianca?”

Neither man spoke. When the old man wouldn’t calm down, Finn helped him to his feet and he lunged unsteadily toward her. She was suddenly aware that she was alone in a room with two possible suspects. Her hand rested on her stun gun.

“Don’t,” Finn said firmly, though he didn’t move toward her.
Smart guy
. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

“Sir,” she told the professor sharply, “you need to take a step back.” Thom clasped her fingers as if he wanted to hold her hand. Disquiet crawled over her skin in size twelve boots.

Finn must have recognized her decided lack of amusement because he grabbed the man and hauled him physically into a seat. “It isn’t Bianca, Thom. That isn’t her. Bianca’s dead, remember?”

Whoa
. “Dead?”

The old man stared at her as if he’d gone deaf and dumb to reason.

“His wife. Murdered years ago, along with their infant son in the woods.” Finn jerked his head in the general direction of town. “His little girl’s body was never found, and although I didn’t see it before, you’re a dead ringer for the woman.”

“My father is alive and well in Vancouver.” His DNA shaped every day of her life. Every decision she’d ever made.

Thomas Edgefield’s gray eyes locked on hers, and it was disconcerting to realize hers were the exact same stormy shade. “I’m sorry about your family, Professor, but I’m not your long-lost daughter. I’m the primary investigator in a homicide.” She swallowed her pity for the man. She had a job to do. “I have to ask you some questions about last night. About the body you found. Are you up to it or should I wait until after you’ve seen a doctor?”

“
After
the doc examines him,” Finn said firmly.

“I’m not sick. I just had a bit of a shock.” Edgefield’s eyes latched onto Finn’s, and he patted the hand that held a fistful of his shirt. “You can let me go now. My marbles came back.” He huffed out a soft laugh that made Finn scowl before releasing him.

Finn threw Holly a tight-lipped glare and shook his head in exasperation. “You want to talk to me or him?”

“Him first. If that’s OK, Professor?”

“I’d be delighted to sit and chat with you, Officer.”

She took out a digital recorder and a spiral notepad. “Mind if I record this session?”

“Not at all. Not at all.” Edgefield rubbed his palms up and down his thighs.

She shivered. He repelled her on a subtle level. And that shamed her because he’d clearly suffered tremendous loss. She turned her attention to Finn. “Where will I find you when I’m done?”

His eyes glowed with controlled emotions. “I’ll wait for the doc and send him in.” He obviously didn’t want to leave them alone, but she was the one in charge. “Cabin sixteen. They’re all numbered so you won’t have to use too many detective skills to hunt me down.”

Funny man
.

He pointed a stern finger at his boss. “The doctor will be here in five minutes. You’d be dead if it was a real emergency, but make sure you let him examine you anyway.”

Thom nodded. His secretary suddenly hovered in the doorway with a shocked expression on her face.

“Holy mother of God.” She crossed herself as she stared at Holly’s face. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

Well,
that
was unsettling.

“Get us some tea or coffee, would you, Gladys?” the professor asked.

Finn Carver didn’t take his eyes off Holly’s as he headed toward the door. He had beautiful eyes. Direct eyes that seemed to see right into her mind. Just when she thought he was going to leave quietly, he stopped beside her. Leaned close to her ear and she forced herself not to back up. “He’s been through a lot over the years. Borne more than any man should have to bear. Treat him gently, or…”

“Or what?” She jerked around to face him. Blue eyes turned flat as stone. His lips were a bare inch from her own. A shiver of something primal slid over her skin.

“Or you’ll have to deal with me.”

“Mr. Carver, are you threatening me?”

His lip curled. “I don’t threaten women. I just don’t want you making a bad situation worse with your cockeyed powers of deduction.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.” Her jaw locked in anger as they glared at one another.

“Then do it.” His gaze drifted to her lips. Another shot of sexual excitement sent tingles spiraling through her body. Her heart pounded harder, but she straightened her spine. He was using basic animal attraction to prove how wrong she’d been earlier. But he could be faking it. Hell, guys seemed able to turn it on and off like a faucet. Either way, she was pissed.

“It would make a helluva change for the cops to actually catch a killer around here.”

She matched his grim intensity with some of her own. “I’ll find this killer, Mr. Carver. Whoever it might be. You can count on it.”

Gina Swartz rested her head on her lover’s chest and trailed her fingers over his sternum. They only had an hour. He’d started out fixing her plumbing and ended up fixing her broken heart instead. “Finn Carver came to see me today.”

A grunt.

“He asked if I’d told anyone about what he was looking at in the library last week.”

Muscles tensed beneath her hand. “What did you tell him?”

Her hands slid over taut, smooth flesh. “I told him I hadn’t said a word to anyone. Do
you
know what’s going on with all the cops?” Her hands slipped beneath the covers, and he groaned and closed his eyes.

“If you keep doing that there’s only going to be one thing going on.” He dragged her mouth to his for a long, hot kiss. “Don’t tell that mad fuck about us, or the cops. I don’t want to deal with Finn Carver or his crazy-ass brother.”

“Anyone would think you’re ashamed of me.” She squeezed her fingers, tight and low, part punishment for mentioning Brent while naked in her bed.

Heels pressed against the mattress, thighs strong and muscular. He moaned. “I don’t want people poking their noses where they don’t belong.” The moan turned to a growl. He was sweating and straining in lust-filled agony. “It’s nobody else’s business.”

“I’m not going to say a word. Why would I?” This was her business. It had taken a long time, but she felt whole again. She’d finally left her past where it belonged. She traced his earlobe with her tongue. “It’s so soon after last time I think you might need a little assistance here.” He laughed as he twitched hot and rigid against her palm.

“Feel free to help me out.” A wicked dimple appeared at the side of his gorgeous mouth. “I can’t keep up with you anyway.”

“Good.” She slipped beneath the covers and took him in her mouth. She’d done things with this man she’d never imagined possible until a few weeks ago, and it made her feel powerful. His hands cupped her head as he urged her to take him deeper. She reveled in the power it gave her, in the knowledge that she could bring him to his knees with a few well-placed strokes. He filled the empty places inside her. Made her forget about the one man she’d loved with all her heart her entire goddamned life.

Not anymore.

Some days, her new lover brought her flowers and treated her like a lady. Other days he was rough and fucked her like a whore. They played erotic games. It was exciting, and she never knew which way his fantasies were going to veer. She’d discovered she had a few fantasies of her own that he didn’t mind exploring. She craved the distraction of him like a drug. Rode the highs with wild abandon, but she wasn’t addicted. She was never going to be addicted to a man ever again.

They had tea. From a pot. With china cups and saucers. It reminded her achingly of her mother, who’d died eighteen months ago from pancreatic cancer. Now there was just her and her father, their all-consuming work, and their annual father-daughter vacation.