Troubled Waters (10 page)

She pulled him close again and stroked his hair. “I should never have asked you to go inside. I could have lost you. You mean more to me than Gunnar.”

Heath pulled his head back and looked at her quizzically.

When she realized what she’d said, she almost took the words back. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was true, not just because Heath was a person and Gunnar a dog, or because Heath had saved her life, but because of the depth of the feelings she had for him.

He pulled her close again and nuzzled her shoulder. “You mean more to me than Gunnar, too.”

Tracie shook her head at his statement. Though she was pretty sure he’d only said it to be goofy, it didn’t escape her notice that he’d gone into a burning building to save Gunnar. Apparently he’d be willing to do that much and more for her. She tried not to think too hard on the implications of that. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Checking out took longer than she would have liked, but with Heath’s protective arm around her, she found she didn’t mind so much. Then they hopped into her stepdad’s truck and she steered them back in the direction of Bayfield.

“Something happened last night, Tracie,” Heath began once they were on the highway.

“Lots of things,” Tracie acknowledged. “For a minute there, I thought you were a goner.”

“I thought so too. By the time I got Gunnar free from the table, the fire had spread all around me.”

“Free from the table?” Tracie repeated.

“Yeah.” Heath’s voice still sounded sore. “He was chained to the table legs. He’d apparently been there long enough to drag the table part of the way across the floor.”

Tracie gasped. “Do you think—” she started, fear filling her words.

“I think Trevor targeted Gunnar on purpose. You said he didn’t like the dog, anyway, and if he knew how much you cared for Gunnar, he’d go after him just to rattle you.” He coughed.

At the hoarse, raspy sound, Tracie cautioned him, “Don’t strain your voice.”

“Nah. Best thing for it. I have to work out all the junk that got in there.”

Tracie wasn’t sure how much she believed him, but she’d already learned he was the strong, stubborn type. She didn’t figure she’d change him, and didn’t really want to.

Heath continued. “I picked up the dog and looked behind me, and there was a wall of fire everywhere, right across the doorway. The room was full of smoke, and your smoke alarm wouldn’t stop blaring.”

Tracie had to smile at that last detail. “It’s had lots of practice whenever I cook.” Then she sobered. “So what did you do? How did you get out?”

“I prayed.”

“Really?” Tracie’s heart lurched.

“Yes. And God answered my prayer. He really did.”

“I’m so glad.” Tracie whispered. Heath had really started to develop a relationship with God. Her prayers were being answered, too. She blinked back the tears that blurred her vision. “So, do you think you’ll keep on praying?”

Heath let out a long, slow breath and leaned back in the seat. “I tried again this morning. It still feels a little awkward. I thanked God for getting me out of there, for giving you the sense to get off the porch when you did.” He paused. “I’m still fighting these doubts.” His sore voice
came out as a low rumble. “Would I have died in there if I hadn’t thought to pray to God?”

“I don’t know.” Tracie kept her eyes focused on the road. “I thought more about what you asked me the other day.”

“About why we bother to pray, even though God already knows what we need?”

“Yeah. I was thinking about what happens when I pray. It’s not just about me asking God for what I want, it’s about me asking God what He wants for me. Sometimes, God gives me exactly what I ask for, like last night when you asked for help getting out of the fire. But just as often, and maybe even more often, God shows me what He wants for me. He opens my heart up to something I hadn’t even thought about.” She stole a glance at Heath, who stared out the passenger window at the shore of Lake Superior, where waves crashed against the rocks below the highway.

She continued, “When Trevor first transferred to Bayfield and requested to work with me, at first I prayed God would send him away. But He didn’t. Trevor stayed. I kept on praying, and after a while I realized God was using Trevor’s presence to make me stronger. That’s how I came to lead the self-defense class, which I enjoy more than anything. And I never would have started doing it if God had taken Trevor away the first time I prayed.”

Heath turned and watched Tracie as she spoke. Her eyes were focused on the road, so he had the opportunity to take a long, hard look without her realizing how closely he was watching her. Her blond hair was swept back in a loose braid that fell down the length of her back. As usual, her face was free of makeup, her classic features beautiful without it. But far more than her outer beauty, Heath saw her determination and her faith. Her faith kept her strong. He wanted a faith like that.

He also wished he could tell Tracie who he really was.
It wasn’t only because he felt horrible about continuing to investigate her even though he felt certain she wasn’t on Trevor’s side. More than that, he wanted to share himself with her—every part of himself: past, present and future. But maybe there were things he could tell her without giving away his true identity. He said a silent prayer God would give him an opportunity to do so.

Tracie continued talking. “We have to learn to trust what God is doing is best for us, even when we don’t understand it at the time.”

“So you think Trevor’s presence in your life is part of God’s plan?”

She bit her lip and stared at the road. “Trevor is evil. He killed his own brother, he’s been tormenting and trying to kill me. I don’t believe that’s part of God’s plan at all. But the Bible says God makes all things work for
good
for those who love Him. Trevor’s trying to ruin my life, but God took Trevor’s evil plan and made it work for good.”

“How?”

“He brought you into my life.”

Heath watched Tracie blush and felt the same color rising to his own cheeks. “I don’t know if I can make up for all the havoc Trevor has wreaked in your life.”

She glanced at him, then quickly returned her eyes to the road.

He reached out and placed one hand gently on her shoulder. “But I’d like to try.” Then he cleared his throat and felt the traumatized tissue stinging from the effort. “I thought we were supposed to take it slow?”

“Yeah.” Tracie’s blush deepened. “I’m not throwing myself at you, or anything, but I realized last night when you went in the house after my dog.” Her voice faded.

He squeezed her shoulder gently.

“I realized how much you mean to me. I’m sorry I asked you to go in there.”

“It’s okay.” Heath heard the rasp in his voice. “God worked it out for good.”

T
racie slowed the truck to a stop at the side of the road near the blackened pile that only the day before had been her house. Heath was full of surprises. Though she’d thought him to be without faith, he was quickly opening up to let God into his life. She turned off the engine, pulled out the keys and looked up at him.

His hand still rested on her shoulder. As she leaned toward him his fingers laced back through her hair. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“I’d like that.”

For a moment, all her worries about Trevor and Gunnar and her house and career all seemed to slip away, swallowed up by the comfort Heath offered her. Kissing him felt so right. She felt at home with him, even though her home was a pile of charred ruins. She didn’t want the feeling to end, didn’t want to return to the harsh reality she lived in. All too soon he pulled back.

“Taking it slow,” he said, brushing her lower lip with his thumb as though tucking in the kisses he’d left there.

“Right.” She took a moment to clear her thoughts. She was so glad God had brought someone into her life whom she could trust, after all she’d endured with Trevor. The thought of Trevor brought her back to reality and the
business at hand. “Well, I talked to the head of the investigation team before I left to get you. They found the remains of a bomb at the epicenter of the fire, but the rest of the house is so damaged—” Her voice caught. Everything she owned was in ashes.

Heath pulled her against his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she sniffed and straightened. “I’m fine. Just takes a little getting used to.”

“We’re going to catch him,” Heath said, meeting her eyes with a determined expression.

“I hope so,” Tracie continued, taking a shaky breath. “Anyway, there wasn’t much left, and they didn’t figure they’d find anything else, so they said I could come back today to see if there was anything I could salvage, or if I spotted anything out of place.” She looked out the truck window to the blackened heap, unable to imagine finding anything recognizable among the ashes.

Heath squeezed her hand. “I’m here with you.”

Hope leapt inside her. “You mean you’ll help me?”

“You didn’t think I was going to leave you here alone, did you? The house doesn’t look all that stable.”

Tracie sniffed and managed a smile. She didn’t figure she looked all that stable, either, but thankfully he didn’t mention that. “Thank you.” She stared down the charred remains. “Okay, let’s do this.”

They slid out of the truck and trudged through the snow to what was left of the house. As the investigator had told her, not much remained. When Tracie thought about all the long hours she’d spent trying to fix the old place up and all the care she’d invested in making her home-improvements just right, her tears started running again. The immense heat of the fire had incinerated everything—wood, glass, even the nails. The metal legs of her kitchen stool rose above the ruins, though there was little left of
the refrigerator that had once stood beside it. The shell of her stainless-steel kitchen sink rested on the floor

“How did they ever find the bomb?” Tracie mused aloud. What remained was so far removed from what she remembered, it was almost as though it hadn’t been hers at all.

“When bombs explode, they project a blast outward,” Heath explained. “The area immediately surrounding the bomb was probably the least damaged of everything, because it burned before the fire had gained its full strength.”

“Makes sense,” Tracie admitted. She crouched to inspect a pile of rubble on her back porch where her tool bench had once been. Holding up a charred hunk of metal, she told Heath, “My hammer, or what’s left of it. It’s a Gerlach.”

“I know. I can tell by the curvature of the claw.”

Tracie cocked her head to the side, thinking. “Heath Gerlach,” she mused out loud.

Heath watched as Tracie made the connection between the brand name and his family’s business. He’d prayed for a chance to tell her more about himself. Though this went beyond what he’d intended to confess, he recalled something in the Bible about God giving far more abundantly than he asked or imagined. So God had a sense of humor, too.

Since she looked as though she was about to drop it anyway, he reached out and took the hammer from her, weighing it in his hands. “Let’s see, it’s not from the pink series. That probably wouldn’t have survived the fire.” The company’s least expensive line of tools was frequently given as high school graduation gifts, or to teenage girls when they got their first car. Though perfectly serviceable, they weren’t very sturdy. “Red series?” he asked, naming
the next level of tools, popular with handy housewives and adolescent boys.

Tracie looked at him with a slightly open mouth, as though she wasn’t quite sure she recognized him. The abrupt revelation left him feeling a little off-kilter, too. “Nah, you wouldn’t use the red line to renovate your house.” He took a step closer to her. “Silver?”

“Yeah,” she admitted softly. “I had the whole line.”

“Hmm.” He handed the charred hammer back to her. “Too bad you didn’t buy the gold series. They have a lifetime warranty, no questions asked.”

“It didn’t seem practical at the time.” Her voice still sounded distant, and she looked at him as though he was a stranger.

If her response to his family background shook her that much, Heath hated to think how she’d take the news that he was an undercover FBI agent investigating her for her role in the very diamond smuggling ring she’d helped crack. He kept his voice light.

“I’ve always said the silver series is the best value for your money. They’re the same product as the gold series, except for the color and the warranty.”

Tracie seemed to collect her thoughts. “So that’s the family business, Gerlach Tools?”

“Yeah.” He made a chagrined face.

“I was picturing something more along the lines of a shoe store.”

“It’s a little bigger than that.”

“I guess so. You’re one of the top names in tools, probably
the
top name.”

“And one of the biggest employers in Green Bay County,” he admitted.

“No wonder your parents were so busy.”

“They were still building the company at that time. They
considered their employees and customers to be their highest priorities.” Heath explained. “It took a lot out of them. Now that they’re more established, they have more time on their hands.” He realized he was babbling and making excuses for them.

“Too late for you.” Tracie looked at him with understanding.

Gratitude rose within him. She wasn’t angry with him for not telling her? “Too late to do me much good,” he echoed. “But they were good providers. Always gave me everything I needed—more than I needed, really,” Heath didn’t want Tracie to think his parents had been bad people.

Tracie’s eyes narrowed in a thoughtful expression. “Do you think that’s why—” she began, then stopped herself.

“What?” He pulled her closer against the chill of the air.

“Oh, I don’t know. You said the other day you never understood why we need to ask God for things—that He already has everything and wants to give it to us.”

Heath felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. “And my parents always gave me
things
instead of time.” The idea resonated inside him.

“Maybe that’s another reason why we have to ask God for what we want,” Tracie suggested, her voice thoughtful, and so soft the breeze nearly carried her words away. Heath leaned close to her as she continued. “Coming to God for our needs gives us a chance to be in relationship with Him. If we didn’t need Him, we might never come to Him at all.”

Heath dipped his head in a nod of affirmation, resting his forehead gently against her hairline, the hoods of their parkas forming a private nook for their faces. “I always wanted that relationship with my folks—not just the stuff
they gave me, or nannies who doled out goodies to keep me quiet.”

“Maybe it’s not too late,” Tracie whispered, her wide blue eyes staring into his.

“Maybe not,” Heath conceded, though he harbored unspoken doubts. He felt grateful Tracie had taken the time to get to know him well enough to see into that hidden part of his heart. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I try to live as though I’m not the heir of Gerlach Tools, and that doesn’t always mesh with who people think I should be.”

“Who are you, Heath?” Tracie asked, her expression open, heartfelt.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted so much to tell her. But it wasn’t his secret to tell. Men died when secrets like his got spilled. “I don’t know.” Suddenly the injuries to his throat and lungs seemed to catch up with him. “Anything more you want to do here?” He looked around the ash heap. Nothing much remained.

“Not really.” She held tight to the hammer, which, though charred, was still usable. “I need to get my stepdad’s truck back to him and take my car into town, and then I’d like to visit Gunnar. I’m guessing you need your rest.”

“I’ve got a mole to flush out,” Heath reminded her.

Tracie looked disappointed. “You need your rest,” she repeated, her voice firm.

“I’ll rest when we catch Trevor.”

She followed him to the truck in silence.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my family history sooner,” he repeated when he noticed how sullen she remained. “If I’d have known how special you would be to me—”

“It’s not about that,” she said and sighed. “Heath, I wish you’d take care of yourself.”

“I will,” he promised, tilting her chin up with his
fingertips. He leaned close. “But I’m going to take care of you first, and that means catching whoever is after you.” He left a single soft kiss on her lips. Then he watched her climb into the truck and drive off before he plodded back to his own truck. He had work to do.

Tracie put up with her mother’s nagging for the entire drive back out for her car.

“I lost my husband to the Coast Guard. I don’t want to lose my daughter, too.”

“Mom, I’m being careful.”

“Careful!” Marla Cooper pulled to a stop behind Tracie’s car. She gestured to the remains of her daughter’s house, deeply shadowed in the dim light of the setting sun. “You call this
careful?
Whoever’s behind this is ruthless. I want you to get in a witness protection program, or a safe house, or something. You need out of this. You’re going to get hurt.”

“Mom.” She looked at her mother patiently. “I just need to solve this, and then—” She didn’t want to get her mother’s hopes up.

“Then you’ll quit?”

“I’m not a quitter,” Tracie reminded her for what felt like the millionth time as she stepped out of Marla’s four-wheel drive.

“I wish you would be,” her mom called after her.

Tracie just nodded as she shut the door. She didn’t figure quitting would do her any good at this point, anyway. And she had to catch Trevor, not just for Tim’s sake, but for her own peace of mind. She wouldn’t be safe until he was behind bars.

As the sound of her mother’s vehicle faded down the road, Tracie crunched through the snow to her car. She picked through her keys, unfamiliar now that she’d removed
the picture fob, and tainted ever since Trevor had touched them. She tried not to think about that as she slid into the cold seat and shut the door behind her.

A chill ran through her. She smelled him. Again.

“Put the key in the ignition and drive.” Trevor’s voice echoed through the vehicle as cold metal pressed against the base of her skull.

Heath couldn’t shake the antsy feeling that something wasn’t right. Whatever it was, he felt as though it was just beyond his reach; like a word on the tip of his tongue he still couldn’t remember, it eluded him. There were so many things about this case that still didn’t add up. He needed answers, but he didn’t feel he could push Tracie any more, especially after what she’d already been through. Especially not when it concerned her father’s death.

John, Mack, and Jim were all in the office when Heath returned.

Heath tried to keep his voice casual. “Can I ask you guys a few questions?”

“If you’re wondering if things are always this exciting around here,” Mack turned from his computer to face Heath, “they’re not. This is usually one of the most boring posts in the Coast Guard.”

“Hey, we’re not boring,” John defended.

“Not lately,” Jim agreed, rising and tromping after the other guys as Heath led them down the hall to the conference room.

The men had been updated as the events involving Trevor’s reappearance and the attacks on Tracie had unfolded, so Heath didn’t need to fill them in. “I’m trying to sort out a motive here,” he began, hoping to segue into Tracie’s family history, but John interrupted him.

“Trevor’s motive for attacking Tracie?” John clarified,
then offered. “Trevor’s had a thing for Tracie at least since high school. She was one of those girls who never seemed to realize guys thought she was beautiful. She was oblivious to Trevor’s existence, and he hated that. When he came back to Bayfield, he immediately did everything he could to get close to her. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Still won’t, obviously.”

Heath looked at the other men to see if they had anything to add. Both nodded, affirming John’s words. Apparently they, too, had come to grips with the reality that Trevor hadn’t died.

“But do you think that’s everything? Tracie was telling me the other day that her father died in the line of duty fourteen years ago.”

“Has it been that long already?” Jim ran a hand back through his thinning hair and gave a low whistle. “I must be getting old.”

“So you worked here when Malcolm Crandall died?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know anything about how it happened?”

Jim looked back and forth between the two other, younger men. “You guys know any of this story?”

“I would have been in high school then,” John offered.

“I’d just joined the Coast Guard, but I was stationed over in Duluth,” Mack supplied.

“Okay,” Jim sighed. “Well, it’s all a little sketchy in my head. There was a submarine in the lake. Now, I’ve been around these parts all my life and never seen such a thing, but I hear some of those salvage ops run submersibles down. Whatever, that’s their business.” He paused. “What do you think this has to do with Trevor going after Tracie, anyway?”