True, they were used to his going off to work on his private South Shores project, for which he advised and sometime defended people shattered by suicides that could be murders. But his lies haunted him, since he wasn’t allowed to trust anyone but this group with the knowledge of his part in the Witness Protection Program, which was run under the aegis of the FBI.
Hell, he thought, forget the desertion of his friends and his law firm being the worst that could happen. Not only had their plane crashed, but he’d just seen a fin—more than one—slice through a wave near them. Sharks! Who knew how long they’d been so close in the dark. And Jace had fallen into the water getting them off the plane.
A shark—that was the way he’d always thought of the man he was certain had not only ruined his father financially, but murdered him too and made it look like a suicide. Clayton Ames, a deadly, devouring shark.
“Jace!” Nick hissed, and the man’s eyes flew open.
What? Jace mouthed. Nick pointed at the circling fins and read Jace’s lips as he cursed silently. There were at least three sharks near them.
Nick noted Heck had seen them too. His right-hand man had mentioned these waters were full of them, a threat to Cubans fleeing the island, though it hadn’t stopped the influx to the States. The refugees included Heck’s and Nita’s Cuban parents years ago, looking for a better life for their families. It was what he wanted for his new family. Maybe he should have stuck it out in Naples, though Ames knew they were all there. He had to be stopped, and the US government’s help was the best way.
“Time for the name game,” Jace whispered. “Let’s not focus on new dangers.”
“Hard not to,” Claire put in. So she’d seen them too.
Nick wondered how she had stayed so calm. Despite her disease of narcolepsy, the woman had guts and stamina. He’d seen that up close and personal in the two murder/suicide cases they’d worked together. He also saw now that, though her eyes were wide on the fins, she quickly shifted Lexi lower between her spread legs rather than on her lap so that the girl could not see the sharks. Now if only everyone else would keep their mouths shut...
“Let’s not talk at all about things we see here,” Claire called out, “but instead learn our new names and identities. That way, when we get ashore, we can just get some help before we all head to Michigan—to Mackinac Island, with all the horses, remember, Lexi?”
“I’m going to find one I like to ride.”
“Right,” Nick said, opening the seal on the plastic pouch he wore under his shirt like a wide belt. He’d kept their newly created passports, credit cards and quite a lot of cash in mostly big bills dry. He pulled out what he’d thought of as his cheat sheet with the names he and Rob Patterson, their FBI contact, had come up with for everyone.
“Okay,” he said, giving his stepdaughter a one-armed hug, “we will start with Lexi. Our family’s new last name—you, Lexi, your mom and me—is Randal. Oh, yeah, Jace’s too.” He spelled Randal and let her repeat it. He tried to ignore Jace’s scowl. As supportive as he was being, since he was on Ames’s hit list too, Nick knew Jace was thoroughly teed off that he had to act the part of Nick’s brother and Lexi’s uncle.
“And your first name, Miss Randal,” Nick went on to Lexi, “is Megan, but you can be called Meggie if you want. It’s up to you.”
For a moment he figured she was going to say she wanted to keep her own name or take her best friend and cousin’s name, Jilly, but she said, “Meggie is more like me.”
“Good!” he said. “Did everybody hear that? This is Meggie Randal. Her mother’s name is Jenna Randal, mine is Jack Randal, and Jace is Seth Randal, my brother and Le—Meggie’s uncle.”
They all went around and said their new names: Heck was now Roberto, called Berto, Ochoa; Nita was his cousin, Lorena Ochoa; and Bronco Gates was Cody Carson.
Bronco piped up. “Suits me. Nothin’ much suits me but glad I’m here to help all you and ’specially Lorena Ochoa here,” he said, giving Nita’s shoulders a squeeze. “Glad to make your ’quaintance, Senorita Lorena.”
Heck rolled his eyes and shook his head over that. He knew Bronco had eyes for Nita, and that obviously annoyed him. No, he must be looking at the sharks again, staring off a ways at the horizon.
But was Jace nuts? He was getting to his knees in the raft, rocking it more than the waves did.
“Seth,” Nick said. “What?”
“To the south. Is that a boat?” he asked, pointing.
Everyone sat up and craned to look. It was, even though the silhouette was small. It was slow moving but seemed to be coming straight for them.
“We need to make a flag, a banner that shows up against the sea and sky.”
“I’m wearing something bright,” Nita said. “My skirt.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she wriggled out of it as Heck twisted around to look at the boat again and Bronco stripped off his jacket to cover her panties and bare legs.
“Everyone sit tight!” Jace ordered. “I’m the only one who stands.”
Nick tried to brace Jace’s legs as he got up and stood shakily. Using his arm as a flagpole, he waved the bright pink skirt until they were certain the small vessel turned even more their way. Unfortunately, the sharks were still circling, and the ramshackle craft looked like it was coming from the direction of Cuba where it was rumored Ames might be living all cozy with the Castro brothers. So, Nick thought, as desperate as they were, with all the deceit and treachery they’d faced already, would the boat bring friend or foe?
Copyright © 2017 by Karen Harper
ISBN-13: 9781460396407
Drowning Tides
Copyright © 2017 by Karen Harper
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