Brilliant man.
She put the lockbox back in place, slid the tile over, and shut off the lights. Stepping into the corridor, she quickly blended in with the stream of people pouring down the hall.
A hand reached out and grabbed hers. Gage. When they hit an intersecting hallway, they broke off from the crowd and rushed for the opposite stairwell. Now moving with a new mass of people headed for Deck 9—the designated emergency floor—she held tight to Gage’s hand, moving with him to Deck 3 and then slipping out of the stairwell behind him.
They hurried to his cabin, slid inside, and locked the door.
“You don’t think they’ll miss us?” she asked.
“They’ll be so relieved when they figure out it was a false alarm, I highly doubt they’ll notice the new excursion leader and adventure journalist missing.”
“That was brilliant,” she said.
“I heard Clint’s voice as the elevator doors opened and knew I had to do something. Saw the red switch not five feet from their cabin door and yanked it.”
“And, of course, Ted and Clint would follow protocol and report to their duty stations.”
“Exactly.”
“Duty stations,” she said.
“What about them?”
She loved that he knew her well enough to know she was on to something simply by how she phrased a statement or question. “Even if Clint was giving a massage when Abby went overboard, once the alarm was tripped . . .”
Gage smiled. “He’d have to report to his emergency protocol station.”
“So even if he wasn’t part of the rescue crew, he probably had word of who went out. But he’s so bent on protocol, protecting the cruise line . . . I doubt he’ll spill.”
“Maybe he’s trying to protect a friend or roommate,” Gage suggested.
“Ted? You think Clint is worried Ted’s involved? The two have bunked together for years.”
“Maybe there are some answers in that black book you snagged.”
“How’d you know I took it?”
He gave her a sideways glance with a smile. “Because you’re you.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”
“What do you think Ted’s going to do when he realizes it’s gone?”
“I’m hoping we’ll have enough evidence to bust him before that happens.”
He reclined into one of the chairs. “Guess we better look at that book.”
Darcy sat, leaning forward, flipping through the pages. “It lists descriptions of women and notations about their cabins and various locations throughout the day.”
“We need to see if we can match those descriptions to the women we know have gone missing off the Bering.”
“Know?”
“There could be more. You heard what Jake said—the only time noise is raised is when the victim has family to advocate for them.”
“So there could be more than Mrs. Bowen, Abby, and the woman that fell off the balcony?”
“That reminds me . . .” Gage stood and strode to his closet.
“Me too.”
“Huh?” He retrieved his windbreaker, reached inside the pocket, and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper.
“Everyone keeps insisting that Bering employees leaving suddenly, like Abby did, isn’t out of the norm. Maybe other crew members have vanished like Abby, only they weren’t quitting . . .”
“They were being kidnapped,” Gage finished her thought. “That’s a really frightening possibility.”
“We’re going to need another look at those photos—show them to crew members, see if anyone recognizes the women as former crew members. See if we can’t match their descriptions to ones in this book.”
Gage unfolded the paper he’d taken from his windbreaker and handed it to her. “Did you see her in any of the pictures?”
Darcy studied the photo on the missing-person flyer. “Where’d you get this?”
“Landon gave it to me last night in his tent.”
Her eyes scanned the information, freezing on the name. “Jessica Matthews?”
“Yeah.” He shifted closer. “Is that name significant to you?”
She shook her head. “Well, it explains the note we found in the Gideon Bible.”
“I still don’t get it.”
Darcy clutched the missing-person flyer. “The head cheerleader was Jessica Hardy. My Bio I lab partner’s name was Brad Matthews.”
“Jessica Matthews,” Gage said.
“Abby was trying to point to one of the victims she’d uncovered.”
“Smart lady,” Gage said.
“Great reporter.” She held the flyer. “I’m pretty sure she was in one of the photos, toward the bottom of the pile.”
“Are you sure?” Gage said, knowing the time pressure she’d been under when she’d found the lockbox.
“I can’t be positive, but I’m pretty confident Jessica’s picture was in there. I have a knack for faces.”
“That could be the solid evidence we need to tie Ted to the missing women.” He shifted. “What about the book? Is there a description fitting Jessica Matthews, now that we know what she looks like?”
Darcy thumbed through the entries. There were ten descriptions of women, but more than fifty location and date notations, though a vast number of the locations were duplicates. “White, fair, redhead, 100G. 5.4 Drop N57/W165.”
“Jessica was white, fair, slim, and redheaded. I’d say it’s a probable match.”
“And the 100G?”
“The price someone was willing to pay . . . ?”
The thought made her sick. “And the rest?”
“The rest have got to be coordinates.”
“But it’s incomplete. It’s only showing degrees, not minutes or seconds.”
He took the book from her, studying the notations. “Maybe they are familiar drop spots so they don’t need all the coordinates, just a marker to know which one.”
Darcy ran her hands through her hair, fighting the gnawing headache pulsating through her temples.
“You need to eat.”
“What?”
“You need to eat something. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“How can I think of food at a time like this?”
“You’re no good to anyone if you’re too weak to think, let alone fight.”
“Fine. I’ll grab something.”
“I’ll order room service.” He stood and strode to the phone. “What sounds good?”
“Nothing.”
“Then we’ll go with a fail-safe option.” He pressed the room-service button and ordered two cheeseburgers, medium well with the works, and two sides of fries.
“Thanks.”
He smiled. “Someone’s got to look out for you while you’re trying to save the world.”
“Save the world, huh? That’s a far cry from how you typically describe my profession.”
He sank in the chair beside her. “Not all reporters are the same—and you’re definitely not as bad as most of the lawyers I know.”
She scooted forward. “Oh?”
“I owe you an apology.”
“You do?”
“Most definitely.” He reached over and clasped her hand. “You’re not Meredith—nothing like her—and I’m so sorry for making you out to be.”
“I know what she did was—”
“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. Not anymore. What matters is you.” He clasped her hand tighter, meeting her gaze straight on, his soulful eyes brimming with emotion. “I love you, Darcy.”
“I love you too.”
He smiled, lowering his warm mouth to hers.
When he pulled back, she sank into his arms. “You weren’t entirely wrong, though.”
He stroked her hair. “I wasn’t?”
“No. I’m not cut out for being an undercover reporter.”
“But Abby, the women . . .”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m going to
see this through to the end. Those men have to be exposed and their crimes brought to justice, but this is absolutely my last undercover case.”
He threaded his fingers through hers. “Why’s that?”
“Because I know God is calling me to something different. I knew it when I first walked away, but after leaving Yancey and you, I started to doubt that. I felt restless, empty.”
“And you thought returning to a case with Abby would fix that?” he asked without any trace of judgment.
“Yes, but I was wrong. It wasn’t Abby and undercover reporting He was pulling me back to.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then what was it?” He brushed the hair from her face, cradling her cheek in his calloused hand.
She leaned in, hovering her lips over his. “You.” She couldn’t explain it, but she knew in her soul that God was at work in Gage’s life, that God was drawing him to a saving relationship with Him. She could practically see the Spirit quickening inside him. If she was wrong, she’d just told a man she could never be with that she loved him. But she did love him and he loved her, and she trusted the soft, still voice telling her Gage was turning to the Lord.
Room service arrived and Gage set the food before them. “So what’s our next step?”
She loved the sound of our. “It all goes back to that first night, the night Abby went overboard. Whoever pulled her from the water has answers.” She popped a fry in her mouth. “There has to be a record of the rescue crew that night.”
“Of course there is.”
“It wasn’t in Mullins’ office.” She’d looked both times they’d broken in.
“That’s not where they’d keep it.”
“Okay then, where would they keep it?”
“We keep our SAR logs at the fire station. Aboard ship, the most likely spot is the medical clinic.”
“Of course.” Why hadn’t she thought of that? “Well, there’s no breaking in there tonight. Not with everyone out and about with the medical emergency and then the fire alarm.”
“Maybe we don’t have to break in to get a look.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve got an idea.” He smiled, popping a fry in his mouth—the mouth that had just been lusciously pressed to hers.
Convincing Darcy to return to her room and get some rest while there was nothing more to be done wasn’t easy, but he’d finally managed to escort her back to her cabin, and now he returned to his. Silence surrounded him, but Darcy’s words still churned deep in his soul.
He pulled out the Bible he’d been reading, opened to Romans, and started at the beginning, working his way through and pausing on verse nine of chapter ten. “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
This is insane. So long he’d walked away. So long he’d raised his fists in anger.
How is it possible I can feel you reaching out to me after all these years of turning away from you? I know what Darcy said, and I’ve read it in your Word, but is it true, Lord? Will you forgive me?
“I have loved you with an everlasting love. . . .”
The air left Gage’s lungs in a whoosh as God spoke to his heart. He dropped to his knees, a mixture of awe and revelation spiriting through him. I’m so sorry, God. Please forgive me for my anger. For turning away. For refusing to believe what I knew was true. I want to spend eternity with you, with Tucker. Please come into my life and be my Savior.
Gage picked Darcy up at her cabin sharply at eight the next morning, as he’d promised. He was eager to share his news but decided to wait for the right time.
“So what’s this grand plan of yours?”
“You’ll see.”
He led her to the ship’s clinic, tugging her to a halt just outside. “Wait for my signal, okay?”
“What?” She glanced in at the nurse, then back at Gage. “What’s your plan, to flirt her into giving you access?”
“No, but I like that you acknowledge I possess that magnitude of charm.”
“Please.” She blew the bangs fringing her eyes.
“I’ll distract her, get her into the exam room, and you do your thing at the front desk. I can buy you ten minutes max, so focus.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you doing to do?”
He winked. “Watch and learn.”
Stepping into the clinic, he greeted the nurse. She was young, midtwenties, with long amber hair.
“Morning,” she said without looking up. She was busy typing some notes into the computer.
“Is the doc in?”
“Not until nine.” A smile curled on her lips as she glanced up and made eye contact. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, I sure hope so.” He leaned on the corner of her desk with a wide smile. “I’m Gage, the new excursion leader.”
“Roxanne.”
“Like the Police song?”
She laughed. “Yeah, but you can call me Roxi. So”—she leaned forward—“what can I do for you?”
“My throat.” He cleared it.
“It hurts?” She pouted.
“Something like that. Do you think you could take a look?”
“I’d be happy to check you out.” She stood and moved around the desk. “Follow me.”
Before following the nurse, he signaled Darcy to enter behind him. She gave him a disgusted “I can’t believe you stooped to that cheesy level of flirting” look, but it had worked. They’d get the information they needed.
“Take a seat on the exam table,” Roxi said.
He hopped up, positioning himself so he could keep an eye on the front room and Darcy, effectively putting Roxi’s back to the door.
“Are you hot?” she asked.
He grinned. “I like to think so.”
She shook her head as she slipped a sleeve on the digital thermometer. “I meant, do you feel like you have a fever?”
“No.”
“Let’s check just to be safe.”
Gage opened his mouth and she slipped the thermometer in. She grabbed a tongue depressor while the numbers rose.
Gage glanced at Darcy, clicking away at the computer station. She didn’t look happy.
The thermometer chirped, and Roxi checked it. “Ninety-eight point four. Practically perfect.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“You’re really something.” She chuckled.
“You have no idea.” He winked.
She held up the tongue depressor. “Open wide.” She glanced down his throat. “Say ah.”
“Ahhh.”
She tossed the depressor in the trash. “Looks fine. You’re probably just adjusting to the sea air.”
He’d grown up surrounded by sea air, but no sense bringing that up. He caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. Had the doctor arrived early? Had he caught Darcy on the computer?
Voices carried into the exam room.
“Take a seat and I’ll be with you shortly,” Roxi called without glancing over to the waiting area. “Looks like it’s going to be a busy one.”
“Do you get a lot of patients?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“That many people get sick?”
“It’s not all sickness.”
“What else? People falling overboard?” He laughed as if making a joke.
“Actually, that happens more often than you’d expect.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Afraid not.” She relayed the story of Jessica Matthews that they already knew.
“That’s terrible.”
“I know, right? Glad my cabin doesn’t have a balcony. If you know what I’m saying.”
“Now that you mention it, I heard something about a crew member going overboard the night before I boarded in Yancey.”
“Yeah. Such a shame. Rumor was she drank too much and got too close to the rail.”
“I heard she was rescued.”
“Yeah. She was lucky someone saw her go over.”
“Did you treat her when they brought her back on board?”
“Nah. We were close to land, so she was taken to the nearest hospital.”
“Who took her?”
“I don’t know. Whoever fished her out of the water, I suppose.”
“Excuse me, nurse.”
Gage turned to find an older gentleman in the doorway.
“My wife’s got a terrible migraine. The longer we delay treatment, the worse it will get.”
Roxi nodded. “We’re just about finished here, and she’ll be next.”
With a squint of frustration and a grumble about a poorly run office, he stepped back into the minuscule waiting area.
“Richies always expect you to drop everything where they’re concerned.”
“I’ll let you take care of them.” Gage hopped off the table, eager to see what had become of Darcy. “Thanks, Roxi.”
“You can thank me over a drink sometime.”
He waved as he exited the room and glanced up and down the corridor. He spotted Darcy at the south end of the hall.
She gestured for him, and he quickly strode to her side, anxious to know what she’d found. “What happened?”
“I moved toward the door as soon as I heard someone coming and just left as they entered.”
“What if the man says something to Roxi about you being there?”
“So what if he does? For all they know, I was looking for the doc, saw he wasn’t in, and decided to come back later.”
“True.”
“Nice flirting back there,” she said with sarcasm that rivaled Kayden’s.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“Sadly, yes.” She smirked.
He grinned. “Did you find anything?”
“I discovered there were two rescue crews launched that night.”
“Two?”
“The report says the second crew, which included Ted, launched but that the first rescue crew had already pulled the woman from the water and was in the process of transporting her to Kodiak Hospital, so they turned back.”
“Okay, so if Ted wasn’t part of the crew that pulled Abby from the water, who was?”
“The first rescue crew consisted of Jeremy Harnett—”