Already His, page 14
“We better check him out,” Nate confirmed. He moved as if to get up, but then hesitated. “Laura. I’m, uh, I’m sorry I snapped at you before.”
“I’m sorry too,” Laura sighed. “I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t either of our faults. I’m just…frustrated. So frustrated. About everything.”
“I know,” Nate said. “You’re under a lot of pressure right now, and I should have recognized that and not risen to it.”
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you in the first place,” Laura said. She smiled. “I reckon I know a good way to ease the pressure on both of us, at least for a while.”
“What?”
“We catch a serial killer,” Laura said, getting up from the table. “Let’s go.”
He grinned back at her with that trademark Nate grin that she had missed since they started to fight and leapt up to follow her.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Nate paced back and forth, feeling caged and ready to go, as Laura held the phone out in front of her. They could both hear the line ringing, ringing, seemingly never-endingly.
“Hello? Sheriff Landyn,” he answered at last, making Nate’s eyes fly to Laura’s to see the excitement there. They both felt it. The case was nearing its end. This was their strongest lead yet. This could be it.
“Sheriff,” Laura said. “I’m calling for a check on a man called Cody Schafer. We need to know if he has any prior record as well as his current registered address.”
The Sheriff grunted. “I can give you that myself,” he said. “I know Cody. Most folks ‘round here do.”
“Really?” Laura’s eyebrows shot up. “How?”
“He’s one of the boat captains, and he takes it on himself to head the local union for sailors,” Landyn said. “He’s a German by birth, but he came here with his family when he was a teenager. He’s one of the most vocal opponents of Theo Kelleigh, as it happens.”
Laura glanced around. Nate followed her gaze, but they were safe. They’d found a sheltered area near the docks, a place where the sound of the sea was the only thing interrupting them. The tourists walked above their heads, and the sailors with their boats were farther down the coast.
“Any record?” Nate asked. “Here, or in Germany?”
“No, nothing,” Sheriff Landyn said. “I don’t have to look it up. We had to do a number of checks on him when he first took over the union.”
“Had to?” Laura repeated, with a heavy dose of skepticism.
“Yes,” the Sheriff replied. “I know what you’re thinking, and don’t. I like Cody. Having the union is a darn sight better than having Kelleigh take over the whole place.”
“What about his personality?” Nate asked, wanting to get past the whole union thing. “Is he quick to anger?”
“Not really,” the Sheriff replied. “He’s the kind of guy that just loves telling you long, old stories to try to spook you. He actually does one of the most popular ghost tours at Halloween.”
“What kind of long, old stories?” Laura asked, and Nate could see what she was thinking.
“All kinds of ship folklore,” the Sheriff said. “That’s kind of his thing—the sea. He can tell you about myths from all kinds of cultures.”
“His own, too, right?” Laura asked. “German? Such as the, ah…”
“Kaboutermannekes,” Nate supplied.
“Yeah, he likes to talk about them,” the Sheriff agreed. “How did you know about that?”
“It’s a lead,” Laura said. She didn’t sound like she was open to answering any further questions about it. “What about his address?”
“This time of day, he’ll be on his boat, the Saint Marie, down toward the end of the ships. It’s the one with the yellow and blue flag,” Landyn said. “Hold on, you’re not looking into him for this, are you? All that folklore, it’s nonsense. And Cody only tells it to entertain the tourists, anyway. It’s not real.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” Laura said shortly. “Sheriff? Don’t you dare call him and warn him. I don’t care if he’s your friend. He is not to be forewarned. Do you hear me?”
“Sure,” the Sheriff said, which was not the most convincing promise.
Laura swore as she ended the call, and Nate couldn’t help but agree.
“We need to get there right now,” he said. “Come on. If he’s right at the end, we need to move fast.”
“Right,” Laura agreed, nodding, and they both set out at a good pace. At times like this, Nate was glad of his training and the fact that he’d kept up his level of physical fitness—even improved it—since the academy. It wasn’t always easy to find the motivation to hit the gym every day when they were back at headquarters, but on the other hand, it made a huge difference at times like this.
At times when he knew he might need to break into a run after yet another suspect, right on the heels of yesterday’s dip in the water.
“It’s got to be him this time, hasn’t it?” Laura asked, a little breathlessly as they speed-walked along.
“I think so,” Nate said. “He fits your vision.”
“Right,” Laura said, though he could hear the doubt in her voice.
“Your vision led us to the killer on our last case,” he said. It was a tenuous form of comfort. It had, but only after they had both mistaken an earlier event and an earlier suspect for the real thing.
Laura said nothing, both of them concentrating on walking. But he couldn’t help but think it was likely that she had an answer for him in her own head: something to refute what he had said. There was nothing he could do to answer the concern she didn’t give voice to.
He just had to make sure that they took down the killer—and like she’d said before, take the pressure from both of their shoulders for a while.
“I can’t see any yellow and blue flags,” Nate said, shading his eyes. There were only ten or so ships left before they hit the end.
“Did you say yellow and blue?” someone called from the side, making his steps falter. “You looking for the Saint Marie?”
“Yes,” Nate called back, moving toward the man who had spoken. He looked to be one of the other sailors, resting in the shadow of his own vessel until he was needed. “Do you know where it is?”
The man pointed out to sea with the end of a pipe he had been smoking.
“How long ago?” Laura asked. The wind whipped a strand of her blonde hair around from her ponytail, trailing into her eyes, and she shook her head impatiently.
“Twenty minutes,” the sailor shrugged. “He’ll be back in four or so hours, if you want to wait.”
Laura looked at Nate. He knew what she was thinking. She didn’t want to wait. Neither, for that matter, did he.
“Can you get us out to him?”
The sailor blinked at him, then looked over his shoulder at his ship as if surprised to find it there.
“We need to catch up with him,” Laura added. “Do you know where he’ll be?”
The sailor looked out at the water as if he was nonplussed to see that there too. “Well…I can find him on the radar. I have an idea of where he’ll be.”
“Then let’s go,” Nate said, showing him his FBI badge.
The sailor blinked, but a moment later he rose and sprang to life. “Jack! Martin! Glenn!” he disappeared on board the ship before Laura and Nate could react, calling out more names as he went. Another man appeared from a little farther down the docks, running for the ship, and Nate only just managed to walk up the gangway ahead of him. Laura followed close behind, and they emerged onto a deck that was suddenly full of activity. A number of sailors rushed around them, so rapidly that Nate couldn’t even keep track of how many there were.
Up here, things looked different. He could see out over the masts of the ships that crowded around them and out over the open water. There was a horizon out there where the sea met the sky, and it was a wide one. It filled him with a little dread—being this high up, and knowing that out there, there was so much further beneath you—but also the excitement of the beginning of a journey.
Were they actually commandeering a ship to go out and track someone in open waters?
“This is…” Nate muttered, leaning his hands on the railing. This ship wasn’t as old-fashioned as the others, with a sleek, white-painted rail instead of wood everywhere, but it was still a ship, and ships were still vulnerable to sinking.
“Wild?” Laura supplied. She sounded like she was having a hard time catching her breath.
“Yeah,” Nate replied. “It is.”
The ship was a hive of activity as the sailors made various changes and the whole vessel began to move out of the harbor, at first going straight backwards away from the other docking points and then turning to move out into the sea. It was a strange sensation: the whole vessel seemed stable enough in itself, and yet it moved up and down on the water, pitching and rolling, making Nate feel like his legs were going to fail him. He clutched hard onto the railings and that made him feel a little better.
“You’re not getting seasick, are you?” Laura asked.
“I don’t know,” Nate said through gritted teeth, trying to get used to it all. “I’ve never had cause to find out.”
Laura laughed, a loud and high sound that made him grin in spite of himself, looking over at her. Her hair was whipping even more in the wind up here, but she looked alive. Like the sea air and the salt spray agreed with her. Like in another life, she would have been some sort of pirate maiden, leading a band of likely types to enact justice on the high seas. The image made him grin even more.
“What?” she asked, tilting her head and giving him an odd look. He must have been looking at her in a funny way without realizing it.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. He looked around and found the sailor that they’d first spoken to, waving a hand to get his attention. “How long?”
The man shrugged. “Depends on where he is,” he said. “Twenty minutes, give or take, I suppose.”
Nate nodded and turned back.
“Twenty minutes,” he said again, for Laura’s benefit. “And then we’ll have him.”
“Do you think he has a victim out there?” Laura asked. She was biting her lip.
“It wouldn’t fit his normal pattern,” Nate pointed out.
“I know, but he might get desperate now,” Laura said. “His last attack was a flop, and to top it off, the victim survived. He might not realize that she isn’t able to identify him. He might feel the need to act quickly.”
“He’s probably just following his normal pattern,” Nate said reassuringly. “I didn’t catch what kind of ship he operates, but it’s either a fishing vessel or a tour, right? Either way, he probably goes out at set times every day.”
Laura nodded, but he could feel her anxiety gnawing at her. He pointed out toward the front of the ship, where the figurehead would have been on the ships their killer had chosen. This vessel didn’t have one, but it still had a—what was it called? A bow?—that cut through the waves. “Let’s go stand up that end,” he said, having to raise his voice a little now over the sound of the sea as the ship sped forward.
Laura nodded and they both turned, walking along the rolling and moving deck. Both of them nearly stumbled at first, leaving Laura in cascades of laughter and Nate feeling himself turn slightly green as he clutched for the railing at his side. But they made it as close to the front as the railings would let them get, and there was plentiful spray in the air as they faced forward.
Laura shaded her eyes. “There!” she shouted with excitement.
Nate shaded his eyes, too, searching the horizon, and another moment later he saw it: a ship. The distinctive outline included a mast like in the old-fashioned ships, with a draped sail currently furled against it. It had to be him. It had to be Schafer.
“Ship ahead!” someone shouted behind them. Nate turned to see the crew scrambling again, adjusting things, changing things. From here he could see into the cabin where the sailor they had spoken to before was standing, his hand against a wheel. With the little Nate knew about ships, he knew that must be where the navigation was happening. He turned back to face forward and saw that they were still what seemed like the same distance away, even though the ship was moving at a fair clip.
“How long do you think it will take?” he asked Laura. Even a private conversation right here needed to be held at full volume. He had little doubt that no one else could hear them over the noise of the water and the engine churning under it.
“He said twenty minutes,” Laura replied almost placidly. Nate stared at her for a second before looking back out to sea. She was different on the water, somehow. He wished for a moment that he could bottle this environment and give it to her when she needed it on those difficult cases. Keep her on the wagon for sure. God knew she needed a break sometimes.
Nate faced ahead again, with nothing to do but wait.
Twenty minutes felt like it would be a torturously long time. Instead, it went by in a rush. They stood together and watched the ship come closer, planning their strategy and method of attack. Every time Nate looked away and then back, he could swear that the ship had jumped closer.
And then it was right in front of them, and it felt like they hadn’t had enough time to prepare.
“Right,” he said, feeling himself panic slightly. He’d underestimated the fact that, of course, the other ship was huge, as was this one. It wasn’t something as simple as stepping from one barge to another in a gentle river. This was the sea, and the distance between the two ships needed for them to safely navigate alongside one another was huge.
But Laura was already on the move.
Nate jogged after her, immediately regretting it on the rolling deck, as she reached what they now presumed was the captain.
“Can you call out to him?” she asked, shouting over the noise.
“Yes, I can send him a radio message,” the captain replied. “He has modern radio equipment. The ship’s a replica, not the real thing.”
“Tell him that we need him to come on board,” Laura said.
“You can tell him yourself,” the captain replied, grabbing a radio microphone from the equipment ahead of him. “Calling Saint Marie. This is the Jones Harbor Jim. Please respond.”
There was a long moment, and then a crackle as the captain handed the mic to Laura.
“This is Saint Marie. Is all well? Over.”
“Saint Marie, this is Special Agent Laura Frost. We need your captain, Cody Schafer, to come with us on board the Jones Harbor Jim.”
Another pause, maybe too long.
“Jones Harbor Jim, that’s a negative,” came the response. “We’re operating a small crew. The captain is needed to get us back to harbor.”
“Saint Maire, requesting that we board you instead, in that case,” Laura said gamely. Nate had the feeling that she was almost as lost in all the nautical terms as he was, but she was holding her own very well.
“Jones Harbor Jim, request denied.”
Laura’s eyes snapped cold fire.
“Saint Marie, I think you misunderstand the tone of our request. No is not an acceptable answer,” she told them.
“Jones Harbor Jim, the authority of the FBI does not extend to open water.”
Laura gritted her teeth angrily. “Saint Marie, don’t make us call in the Coast Guard. We will.”
“Jones Harbor Jim, we stand waiting for the Coast Guard to make their request. Until such a time we will proceed with our planned journey.”
“Damnit!” Laura yelled, not into the mic this time, and slammed it back against the equipment panel.
“Careful!” the captain yelped.
“We need to get on that ship,” Laura said, seemingly brushing off the complaint.
“Is there a way for us to board without his permission?” Nate asked.
“Sure,” the captain shrugged. “You just board.”
“How?” Nate asked, staring at him.
The captain looked at the Saint Marie for a moment and clicked his tongue. “I’ll get you right alongside her,” he said. “We should be able to navigate without causing any damage. If they know what’s good for them, the Saint Marie should stay still and not risk moving away. Then you’ll be able to just jump.”
“Jump?” Nate repeated, feeling like his eyes must have been bulging out of his head.
“Like pirates,” Laura said, with a glint in her eyes that Nate didn’t like.
“It’s not as much of a risk as it sounds,” the captain said. “We’ve got a higher position here. You’ll be able to almost just step down from our deck. Trust me, you’ll be fine. It’s either that or we have to lower a lifeboat, get you closer, and then you have to get yourselves up the side of the Saint Marie with them trying not to let you.”
“We’ll jump,” Nate said, all things considered.
The ship was already swinging around in the water, moving closer to the Saint Marie. Nate and Laura moved out onto the deck. They were close enough now to hear the other ship’s crew yelling at them, though the meaning of the words was lost. Their facial expressions weren’t. They were clearly furious with them for attempting it.
“Maybe only one of us should go, to minimize risks,” Nate said.
“Sure,” Laura shouted in his ear, patting his shoulder. “You wait here.”
“No,” Nate said, about to tell her that he’d meant the other way around, but it was too late. The boats were lined up, only a tiny amount of space left to close between them. And Laura was climbing up on the railing.
Nate muttered a curse that was lost to the spray as he scrambled to follow her, wondering why he, a naturally large and certainly adult male who spent most of his free time in the gym, was less confident about this athletic feat than Laura, a recovering alcoholic with a willowy figure.
And then he stopped thinking, because the ships had, despite the captain’s words, physically bumped together—and the bump together with the closeness was enough to nudge both him and Laura into their flying leaps toward the deck of the Saint Marie.
_preview.jpg)
