Against the Tide (26 page)

Olivia leaned over and hugged her. “You're a good friend, Nell.”

“What about the man who attacked you? You don't think he'll try it again?”

“I'm staying with Rafe for a while, just in case. You know how protective he can be.”

Nell seemed mollified, though she kept eyeing the bruise on Olivia's cheek. “Speaking of Rafe . . . how's it going with the two of you?”

How was it going? There was no way to know for sure. She was still wanted for murder. Rafe had vowed to help her, but at this point anything could happen.

“He's a good man,” she evaded.

One of Nell's silver-black eyebrows went up. “That's it? He's a good man?” Nell's knowing gaze searched her face. “You aren't falling in love with him, are you? We talked about that. You're supposed to be having an affair.”

Liv shrugged. “Rafe's hard not to love.”

Nell started frowning. “Yes, I'm sure he is.” Her frown deepened. “He better not hurt you. I warned him. He better treat you right.”

She felt the pull of a smile. Rafe was right about one thing. The life she had here was worth fighting for. The friends she had made. Especially Nell Olsen.

“I'll do my best not to hurt him, either,” she teased, though she really had no idea how Rafe would feel if she packed her bags and left town.

At least the subject of her past was over.

“Rafe had an errand to run,” she said. “He won't be back for a while. You covered for me this morning. You're off tonight. Why don't you go home a little early?”

“You sure?”

Liv nodded. “Positive. I've got some scheduling to do, plenty to keep me busy.”

“All right.” They headed back downstairs. Nell took off her apron and left the café, and Olivia went to work. It felt good to be busy. She liked that about the restaurant business. She liked keeping things organized and at the same time being creative, exploring new ideas, new recipes, new ways to make things better.

She was back downstairs, cleaning up with Katie, getting ready for the dinner crowd that would be coming in a little later, when Cassie walked into the café. She headed straight for Liv.

“I was hoping you'd be here. Oh my God, what happened to your face?”

Even the makeup she'd dabbed on couldn't quite hide the bruise. “I had a run-in with a broom handle. No big deal.” Sounded better than the usual
door
explanation, and around the restaurant, accidents were always happening.

Cassie just nodded. “I've done that myself. Have you got a minute to talk?”

“Sure.” They sat down in one of the booths. Through the window, the sun was still shining, the blue sea glittering in the distance. She thought of her day on the water, remembered how good she had felt being out there.

“I went to see Chip this morning,” Cassie said, regaining Liv's attention. “I know you probably think that's terrible, but I just . . . I don't believe he killed Scotty and I just feel so sorry for him.”

“I don't think it's terrible at all. I'm proud of you for following your conscience. If you think Chip's innocent, then you should stand by him. That's the right thing to do.”

“A few of the guys have gone to see him. His boss. Ben Friedman and Sam King.”

“What about Marty Grossman? He was a close friend, wasn't he?”

“They were friends. Marty's married. I think he's afraid to stand up for Chip because of what people might say.”

“That's what happens when trouble comes knocking. You find out who your real friends are.” And there weren't that many, Liv had discovered. None who were really there when she needed them most.

“Chip says they're moving him to the correctional facility in Anchorage. That's where his trial's going to be held. He thinks he's going to be convicted. He's sure he's going to prison.”

Cassie rested her elbows on the table, gripped her hands in front of her. “He looks awful, Liv. He can't sleep. He isn't eating. He's lost tons of weight. I was wondering, you know, hoping maybe you and Rafe might have found something that could help him prove his innocence.”

A wave of empathy washed over Liv. She remembered how she'd felt when she had been wrongly accused. The desolation, the hopelessness. If Chip was innocent, she knew exactly how he felt.

“We're following a lead,” she said. “You can tell Chip that, if you think it will help. It may be nothing, but we're going to find out. That's all I can tell you right now.”

Cassie pulled a Kleenex out of her purse and dabbed it against her eyes. “It does help. Chip needs something to hold on to, something that'll give him hope.” She tucked the Kleenex away. “Thanks, Olivia.”

Liv just nodded. When she'd been arrested, no one had stood up for her. She'd thought that Stephen would have, if he had been alive. In death, he was her silent accuser. Her attorney had come to believe strongly in her innocence. After the attempt on her life, he'd been the one who had helped her escape.

“We're doing everything we can,” she told Cassie. “Rafe is working on something right now. Tell Chip not to give up. Not yet. Okay?”

Tears filled Cassie's eyes and the tissue reappeared. She blew her nose and tucked the Kleenex back into her purse. “I'll tell him.” Rising from the table, Cassie reached over and squeezed Liv's shoulder, turned and walked away.

Olivia watched her disappear out the door, thinking that whatever happened, Chip Reed was lucky to have a friend like Cassie Webster.

He'd been a fool to ever let her go.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rafe checked the GPS sitting on the seat beside him. The Jeep had driven all the way out Egan Drive across Mineral Creek to the far west side of town. He turned on Front Street, followed the map on the screen to the end of the road, then turned onto Dewey Court.

There weren't many houses out here. The Jeep had pulled into the driveway of a two-story, wood-frame home at 16530 Dewey Court. The oversized property was located on a cul-de-sac with only a solitary house across the way.

Rafe pulled up behind a thicket dense with spring foliage. There was no name on the mailbox. As soon as he got back to town, he'd look up the property records, see who owned the house.

He wondered what he'd see if he walked up to the windows and looked inside. He glanced at his surroundings. No one anywhere near, not on the street or the house across the way. He reached into the door pocket on his side of the truck and pulled out a pair of binoculars. This being Alaska, he kept a pair in each vehicle. You never knew what interesting sights you might see.

His truck was parked where it couldn't be seen from the house. He cracked the door and stepped down, started quietly walking toward the back of the property, careful to stay out of sight behind the foliage.

Crouching in the bushes, he focused the binoculars on the back windows, slowly scanning from one room to another. Movement in the kitchen caught his eye. A woman stood at the sink in front of the window. Black-haired, late twenties, early thirties. There was something familiar about her.

A man walked up behind her, turned her into his arms and kissed her. For an instant, Rafe couldn't make out the man's features.

He held the binoculars steady. The kiss ended, the pair broke apart, and the man smiled down at her. Decent-looking guy, dark hair touched with silver, blue eyes.

Jesus.
The couple who had taken the sightseeing trip aboard
Scorpion.

What the hell was his name? Trent something or other. Trent Petersen, that was it. The wife's name was Anna.

He watched them through the binoculars until they left the kitchen and disappeared out of sight. Then he turned and headed back to his truck.

The Petersens had been aboard
Scorpion.
So had Wong and Nevin. The coincidences were mounting.

What the hell was going on?

 

 

Rafe walked back into the café, relieved to see Olivia waiting on a couple of young tourists, a girl and a guy, their backpacks on the floor beside the booth. Liv was laughing at something one of them said, and the sound warmed his heart.

She had dealt with so much, most of it by herself. But she had him now. She wouldn't be so alone.

He settled himself in a booth by the window and stretched his legs out in front of him. He was still trying to sort out the information he had discovered up at the house, make some sense of it, but nothing had jelled so far.

Katie spotted him and waved, but didn't come over to take his order, leaving the job to Liv. Olivia belonged to him and everyone seemed to know it. He figured even Sally Henderson had heard. He was glad Sally had found someone else. Rumor was the guy, a businessman who lived in Anchorage, had asked her to marry him and she had accepted. Rafe was happy for her.

He knew the moment Liv saw him. He liked that her cheeks flushed, liked that she didn't look away or hide in the back, the way she used to.

Olivia was his and he was going to keep her. A thought he'd done his best to ignore, but so far it hadn't worked. Even knowing the trouble she was in hadn't changed that.

His phone started ringing as she walked toward him with that elegant grace that had attracted him from the start. Rafe pulled the phone out of his pocket and read Nick's name on the screen.

He hadn't told his brother about the bastard who'd come after Liv. He knew Nick would go into Ranger–cop mode if he did. But things were happening all around them. Rafe needed to unscramble them into something that made sense. To do that, he needed his brother's help.

Sliding out of the booth, he walked toward the back of the restaurant, motioning for Liv to follow him, heading out onto the porch behind the café where she wouldn't be a target. She was part of this—whatever the hell it was. She deserved to know what was going on.

“Hey, Nick.”

“Hey, bro, I've got something for you.”

“Go ahead.” He held the phone so Olivia could hear.

“I got a hit on one of the photos Zach sent. The Asian, the guy who calls himself Lee Wong? His name's Lee Heng. Indonesian American. No criminal record. On the surface he's squeaky clean. His photo popped up in a college yearbook. Went to Ohio State on a scholarship. Worked at Microsoft for a while. I couldn't figure why the guy would be using an alias so I enlisted a little help to go deeper.”

“I'm listening.”

“Ian's got a friend, does work for him off and on, a real computer guru.” Ian was one of the many Brodie cousins. He owned Brodie Operations Security Services, the company Nick worked for in Seattle.

“The guru . . . some young kid about twenty, right?”

Amusement crept into Nick's voice. “Middle-aged woman with two grown kids. Husband died. Took up computers when the kids left home. Turned out she had a real knack.”

“So I guess there's still hope for me.”

Nick chuckled. The amusement slid from his voice. “Here's the bad news, bro. Dig deep enough, the guy's got ties to JAT. I can spell the name but no way can I say it. JAT is Indonesia's number-one terrorist group.”

Beside him, Olivia sucked in a breath. Rafe whispered the F-word under his breath.

“You got that right,” Nick said.

“What about the other guy? Michael Nevin?”

“Angle of the photo was wrong. Couldn't get a clear enough image. We need to call Homeland, Rafe. But the truth is, this guy isn't on any no-fly list, nothing like that. He hasn't had any recent contact with the group, or at least nothing Sadie could find. He's on Homeland's radar but it's pretty distant.”

“Sadie? That's your computer whiz?”

“Yeah.”

“Good lady to know.”

“Especially when it looks like you could be up to your ass in alligators. I'm thinking if something's going down, likely it has to do with the ferry system or the pipeline. Only two things in Valdez big enough to interest a terrorist organization.”

“Hundreds of folks on one of those big ferries.”

“Yeah, and an attack on the pipeline would cause an environmental disaster. Either one would be very bad news.”

“It's a pretty big leap from a couple of prayer rugs to a terrorist attack,” Rafe said, playing devil's advocate.

“You really think so?”

He shook his head. “I don't know. It feels big, but it's just a hunch. Either of those things would be a disaster. Ferry would be a whole lot easier to pull off. The pipeline terminal has all kinds of security.”

“That's what I was thinking. Blowing up one of those boats and killing five hundred people would be huge. When's the next ferry in?”

“This time of year there's one damn near every day.”

“So it could happen any time. You're supposed to call nine-one-one to report suspicious activity, but that might pose a problem since there's no way you could legally know anything about these guys.”

“Something's going down, Nick. And it's going to happen soon. This afternoon I followed the route those two drove the other night. Wound up at a house out on the west side of town. I don't know who it belongs to, but I recognized the couple inside, a man and his wife who took a cruise on
Scorpion.
So did Heng and his roommate. The four of them know each other. I can't think of a single reason why they should.”

“What's the couple's name?”

“Trent and Anna Petersen, but I've got a hunch their names are as phony as Wong and Nevin.”

“I'll run it, see what comes up. What's the property address?”

“It's 16530 Dewey Court.”

“I'll find out who owns it. Soon as I get a little more information, I'll call Charlie Farrell, give him what we've got.”

“Farrell's your FBI buddy in Fairbanks, right?”

“That's right. But Homeland gets tips like these every day, so don't expect them to come running down there. Heng and his friend could just be on vacation, you know? Then again, it might cross with something Homeland's working on.”

Rafe took a deep breath. “There's something else.” He glanced over at Liv, who nodded. “Yesterday a guy came after Olivia. Knew her real name, knew she was wanted. Tried to blackmail her for sex.”

“Jesus, Rafe. Haven't you got enough trouble? You need woman trouble, too?”

“She didn't kill that guy, Nick. I don't have time to explain everything now, but I'm telling you she's innocent and I'm going to help her prove it.”

“Christ.”

“You're really going to hate this, but there's a chance the guy who attacked her might be part of this thing.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I've got to go, little brother. I'll talk to you soon.” Rafe disconnected, ending his brother's next rant before it got started. Whatever happened, Nick would do everything he could to help them. Rafe would be waiting on pins and needles till his brother called back.

 

 

It was after ten p.m. The restaurant was closed, and Rafe and Olivia were settled in at his place for the night. They still hadn't come up with a plan to clear Olivia's name. At the moment, they were too focused on trying to prevent a terror attack.

Or maybe not.

What had started as a murder investigation had morphed into a mystery that was going nowhere. Maybe it was all just a series of coincidences that meant nothing. Until they came up with something new, there was no way to know for sure.

Heading for bed, Rafe draped an arm around Olivia's shoulders and led her toward the stairs. Both of them were beat, but with Liv tucked against him, her soft breasts brushing his side, need stirred inside him. When he glanced down, she was looking up at him, the same need mirrored in her lovely gray eyes.

Need turned to hunger. At the top of the stairs, he turned her into his arms, pulled the ball cap off her head and the band holding back her hair. Sliding a hand into the silky dark mass, he wrapped a fist around the long strands, pulled her head back, and his mouth crushed down over hers.

Heat burned through him, settled in his groin. He was hard and aching, wanting her with the same unrelenting need that had only grown more powerful since the first time he'd had her.

“Rafe . . .” she whispered, urging him to take the kiss deeper, her fingers digging into the muscles across his shoulders.

He wasn't sure how many times his cell phone played before the sound penetrated his sex-fogged brain.

With a sigh, Rafe ended the kiss, his forehead tipping against hers for the instant it took both of them to catch their breath. Pulling the phone out of his jeans, he read the name.

“It's Ben,” he said to Olivia, and pressed the phone to his ear.

“You aren't going to like this,” Ben said.

“Tell me.” Rafe put the call on speaker so Liv could hear the conversation.

“I went out to get some supper and just got back. I found two room keys on the counter in the office. Both were for room number two. The room was paid through Sunday so the men didn't owe anything, didn't need to check out. They just packed their stuff, loaded it into the Jeep, and took off.”

“Have you looked at the video? Maybe there's something there.”

“I looked at it. Ran it back until I saw them walk out of the room earlier in the evening, ran it forward and saw them return, probably after they'd had supper. They were in there a while. When they came back out they were carrying their bags and something that looked like a laptop case.”

Rafe had noticed the computer sitting on the desk when he'd gone into the room, but it was turned off and closed and he'd left it that way.

“The Asian guy was on the phone when they got into the Jeep,” Ben said. “They drove away and that was it.”

He had the plate numbers, but the Jeep was a rental from Hertz in Anchorage, probably rented in a fake name, so he hadn't pursued that angle.

“What time did they leave?”

“Eight forty-five, according to the data on the video.”

“So they left the motel. Doesn't mean they left town. Thanks, Ben. I'll keep you posted.”

Rafe hung up and phoned Zach. They'd decided to rig the new GPS they'd attached to the Jeep last night to Zach's computer, since he knew how to download the program they needed to track the car's movements and how to handle the system if a problem came up.

“The men checked out of the motel,” Rafe told him. “Can you take a look at your laptop, see where they are right now?”

“Let me go check. It's been a couple of hours since the last time I looked.”

Zach was gone a while; then he came back on the line. “The GPS isn't moving, Rafe. The last location before it went dead puts it in the ocean off South Harbor Drive.”

“They found the bug,” Rafe said.

“Looks like,” said Zach grimly. “Probably the reason they checked out of the motel. They found out they were being tracked, got spooked and took off.”

“Sounds right.”

“Sorry, Rafe.”

“Yeah, me too. I'll see you in the morning.” Rafe hung up the phone.