Splashdown: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 3) (5 page)

BOOK: Splashdown: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 3)
8.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter 7

Sharee sat in the chair with John as he searched the Internet. His arms moved on either side of her as he typed. She should be working on the upcoming banquet today, but the fundraiser could wait. Downtown Ministries could not claim all her time. She unwrapped a soft peppermint and put it in her mouth. Google Earth appeared on the screen.

“What are you looking for?” She asked around the peppermint.

“Just wanted to fly over Indonesia.”

“Where will we be going?”

“To Medan, in Sumatra, and then the islands off there. At least, that’s what I know now.”

She nibbled on his ear, and his head moved her way, brows rising. His hands slid from the keyboard.

“No. No.” She laughed and pointed. “Zoom down to Padang.” He clicked on a small figure, and the ground and the sea zipped up at them. “What are those little islands off the coast?”

“The Mentawai Islands. They’re remote, no commercial flights there—lots of coastal villages, jungles.”

She pointed to another area. “And the large island is Sumatra?”

“Yes.”

“But no idea when we’ll go?”

“The Lord will let us know.”

She turned her head. “I can’t wait.”

“I know. You’ll love the people, the villages, the ministry.”

“You were so excited when you came back last time.”

He squeezed her. “Because I wanted you to return with me.”

She leaned her head back against his chest. “I know. I’m going. We’re going. Together.”

“Yes.”

“You’re ready?”

“To fly, you mean? The training was extensive. More than I thought. You know that. Safety is a big issue, and they hit that hard. I’m as ready as they can make me.”

She slid off his lap. “I know you’ve flown since you were fifteen, I just, well…I know this is different.”

“Short, bumpy runways, rough take-offs and landings, but God’s given me peace about it.”

“Good.” She looked at him, holding her breath.

“What?”

“I…I need a shower.”

He lifted a brow, nodded and waited. When she said nothing, he asked, “Shall we run to the beach after lunch?”

Sharee bit her lip.
No, it’s the wrong time. Wait.
“Okay. I’d like that.”

She felt his eyes on her as she made her way across the living room and glanced back.

“Need someone to scrub your back?” he asked.

Sharee shook her head, amused. “Not this time. You did mention you were hungry.”

“I did.” His mouth twitched. “Should I start something?”

“No, thank you. Throwing out the chopped vegetables was enough help today.”

When she finished her shower, she combed through her wet hair, ruffled it with her fingers, and threw on the silk robe he’d bought her on their honeymoon. When she stepped into the kitchen, she stared at the counter. Empty, again.

What had he done now? Her eyes narrowed. It better not be the dog. She pulled the refrigerator door open and saw the chicken on the shelf.

“You put the chicken back?” As she took it out, she could feel its icy hardness. “I was defrosting it.”

“Oh.” He stepped into the doorway.

“Oh? Is that all you can say? You know I’m trying to fix lunch, and you threw out the chopped onions and tomatoes earlier.”

“I explained. I thought you’d left them to throw out.”

She cut across him, “Why would I throw out perfectly good veggies? And now you’ve put the chicken back?”

“You were in the shower. I thought…”

“Don’t you know when chicken is defrosting?” She swung the kitchen towel at him. “Get out of my kitchen! Git!”

He backed toward the door. “You sound like my mother.”

“What?” Her voice rose. Had he really said that? “
Like your mother?”

Fuming, she advanced on him. He backed all the way through the doorway. “But you don’t look like her. Not at all.” The words came in a rush. “You’re gorgeous, and I love you.”

“Like your mother! I can’t believe you actually said that!”

The dog circled them. He backed into the living room. “Gorgeous,” he repeated. “And I promise not to throw anything out again. Ever.”

She glared up at his six-foot-two from her five-foot-two, and the absurdity of their positions hit her. She bit her lip before she laughed, but she wasn’t going to let him get away with this. She poked his chest with her finger. “You better not.”

His eyes suddenly backlit with amusement as if he’d read her thought, and he pulled her into his arms.

“Let go!” She struggled against his hold.

“Uh-uh. Not yet.” He kissed her forehead.

“Don’t think you can weasel out of this.”

“Say you forgive me.”

She quit fighting and gave him a belligerent stare.

He kissed her forehead again, then the corner of her eye, the corner of her mouth. “Say you forgive me.”

“No.”

He kissed her mouth. “Sharee?”

She stared up at him then caught both his shoulders and tugged him down. “It’s going to take more than one kiss.”

His mouth curled, and he bent his head towards hers again. If the dog had not pushed between them, she might have told him then. Instead, she pulled away. What did he see in this big, sloppy dog?

She went back to the kitchen. Perhaps she’d tell him tonight. Spinning in a circle, she held her arms across her abdomen. Then she stopped. Once she sat down and started working on the fundraiser, she’d be too concentrated on it to segue into something personal like this.

Perhaps when the banquet was over…or even the night of the banquet? That might work. She’d plan something special. Yes. Special.

After all, a baby was special.

***

“Somebody,” Representative Tom McCloud said, “somebody high up is in this. Gotta be. I’m getting too much flack, too much media flack, everywhere I go.”

Lynn put her elbows on the desk and folded her hands in front of her. The long day had presented every possible annoyance, and the man standing in front of her reflected that. He’d shed his coat, loosened his tie, and run his hands through his hair so many times that it had parted in the middle giving him a rakish look that belied his forty-nine years.

“You’re sure it’s not just politics?”

He made a face. “No. Do you think so? I wasn’t getting this much attention until I started taking Marta around to these meetings.” Lynn heard the beginning of a swear word, but he stopped, looked at her and cleared his throat. “We’re getting a grant in this county to help stop human trafficking, and we’ve done a good initial job. So why are we hitting so many roadblocks now?”

“Perhaps because you’ve taken a stance and a very public one. Bringing Marta, a survivor of sex trafficking, to all these community gatherings and letting her tell her story is really in-your-face. People cannot pretend this doesn’t exist here anymore.”

“I hope,” he said with force. “I sure hope it is. But we have the police, the Sheriff’s Office, a number of judges, and other public figures supporting us. Why trouble now?”

Lynn stared past him. “Let me look through Marta’s file again. Maybe there’s a clue there.” She stretched and stood up. “It’s getting late. I’ll take it home tonight if you don’t mind.”

“You do that.” He turned and walked from her office to his.

She went to her files and pulled out Marta’s folder. Slim. Good. She could hear the volunteers picking up, preparing to leave for the day.

“You have anything extra you need me to do before I leave?”

She glanced up. Larry Jacobs’ form filled the doorway. Being new, he had that extra drive that volunteers have when just starting. His somber countenance went with much of what they handled each day, but she tried to draw a laugh from him now and then. The work’s nature needed to be balanced with lighthearted humor for all their sakes.

“Not today, Larry. In fact, I’m taking some home. It’s quitting time, and we all need to go home and relax.”

His eyes went to the file she held. “I feel I’m accomplishing something when I’m here.”

“And you are. Be sure of that.”

“I heard you and Tom discussing Marta. Anything new there?”

She shook her head. “No. But we aren’t giving up. The Sheriff has his men looking for this guy—the one who held her for so long. So, I hope to hear good news one day.”

“That would be great. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right.”

She walked to her desk and picked up her attaché case, shoving Marta’s file down into the middle section. As she zipped it closed, she heard Larry greet someone, and then another voice drifted her way. She winced.

“Yes,” Larry said, “Ms. Stapleton is still here. But I don’t know if she is available. Can I give her your name?”

Lynn stepped to the doorway. “That’s all right, Larry. Detective Richards is
always
welcome.”

“Did you take training in sarcasm?” the detective asked as she gave him a mocking bow and waved him into her office.

“Some people unleash it more than others. You know it’s quitting time in every office in town, and yet you show up.”

“Such a warm welcome after I treated you to lunch yesterday.”

“And I think I paid for it with a complete list of everything I’ve ever done in my life. I hope you had to type all that into your report.”

“Some of the questions were for personal benefit.”

“Really?” She challenged, not believing him. They’d talked about many things during lunch. He had asked questions about her life, her growing up years, and what she did for entertainment. She’d dropped her guard about halfway through the meal knowing she might regret it later.

“Your prom night escapade was especially interesting.”

Lynn felt herself flush. “I got carried away in the moment.”

“So I understood.”

“I didn’t mean the night of the prom, I meant when I told you…” She stopped as his mouth lifted in a smile. The pause lasted a heartbeat.

“I’m riding out to the homeless camp. I’d like you to come,” he said.

“You mean you haven’t been out there again? What have you been doing?”

“We’ve been twiddling our thumbs.”

Lynn scowled at him. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“This from the woman whose respect for law enforcement is about as much as Daffy Duck’s.”

“All right, I’m sorry. Just surprised that you haven’t been there again and asked the other people about Victoria.”

“Never said I hadn’t, just said I’d like you to come with me today.”

Lynn cringed inside. The memories still surfaced strong and horrifying whenever she had a quiet moment. “If you don’t mind, I really don’t want to go.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you.”

“Oh, that makes me feel much better. My own personal Sheriff’s escort.”

“There you go with the sarcasm again.” He inspected her. “It could help the investigation. I’d like to look around. I need to know what you saw, what you heard.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“You might remember something once you’re back there.” His voice changed and took on a different note. “I understand why you don’t want to go, but it could help the investigation. Bella washed away any evidence. We haven’t got a DNA match on Victoria yet, and we’re going nowhere.”

Lynn closed her eyes.
Oh, Lord…
She swallowed and nodded. She needed to do it for Victoria. “All right, if it will help.”

Three-quarters of the way there, she forced herself to relax enough to admire the navy blue Porsche. He kept it immaculate. When they climbed out, she saw him glance at the mud that clung to the rims.

He caught her look. “It was my grandmother’s car.”

Her mouth opened, but she said nothing.

He stepped aside to let her go first. “Unbelievable—unless you knew my grandmother. She passed away a year ago and left this as part of my inheritance. I’d always loved it.”

“Why do you drive it for work?” Perspiration began to gather under her hair. The car’s air-conditioning had cocooned them on the ride.

He shrugged and swatted at a mosquito. “I love driving it, and I only drive it for routine investigations. Of course, Keith warns me that it might get smashed one day.”

“He could be right.”

The steamy air hung over the woods like a fog. Her ears filled with the hum of mosquitoes, but she breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing looked as it had five days ago. The tightness across her shoulders eased. She walked beside the detective trying to step on dry ground as much as possible. The hurricane had left its mark.  

Mud already clung to her high-heels. She shook her head and slid a narrowed glance at Richards. She’d better not ruin her one pair of Jimmy Choo heels.

The homeless group had set up new tents among the trees. Men and women moved among them. Towels and other clothes waved from limbs and ropes drawn tight between the trees. A stack of branches and other debris rose to their left.

Other books

Siege and Storm by Leigh Bardugo
Blameless by B. A. Shapiro
Death in the Desert by J. R. Roberts
The Past is a Foreign Country by Gianrico Carofiglio
Hamelton (Dr. Paul) by Blake, Christopher; Dr. Paul
A Crazy Day with Cobras by Mary Pope Osborne
Loose Screws by Karen Templeton
Beyond Jealousy by Kit Rocha
Blood Symmetry by Kate Rhodes