PROLOGUE
The morning shift whistle cut through the April air like a blade, and the Shipwrecker pulled his collar higher against the wind that swept off Lake Superior.The ice had broken up weeks ago, leaving the water dark and restless, lapping against the dock pilings with a sound that had become as familiar as his own heartbeat over four decades on these waters.
He clocked in at Northern Star with the ease of someone who had performed the same ritual thousands of times before.Seven forty-five, always seven forty-five.The timekeeper barely glanced up as he passed, just another weathered face among the dozen men who kept the shipyard running.Anonymous.Invisible.Exactly as he preferred it.
But today felt different.
He'd noticed the black sedans parked near the harbor master's office when he'd driven in, their government plates catching the weak morning sun.FBI.They'd been sniffing around the docks more frequently these past few months, asking questions, taking photographs, measuring distances between shipping containers and the water's edge.
And there she was.
Agent Rivers stood near the crane loading platform, her dark hair pulled back in that same practical ponytail, her amber eyes scanning the facility with the methodical patience of a hunter.She wore a navy blazer over dark jeans, her badge clipped to her belt beside the holster that held her service weapon.Even from fifty yards away, he could sense the coiled energy in her stance, the way she absorbed every detail of her surroundings.
He'd met her once, months ago, when she'd conducted interviews with Northern Star employees.A routine inquiry, she'd called it, following up on leads in some case or another.He'd answered her questions with the same bland politeness he showed everyone—yes, he'd worked here for thirty years before he’d briefly retired last year, only to return because he couldn’t sit with himself.It’d been six months since he’d come back to work now, and no, he hadn't noticed anything unusual.Sorry, he couldn't be more helpful.
She'd looked at him then with those unsettling golden eyes, and for a moment, he'd wondered if she could see through the careful facade he'd constructed.But she'd simply thanked him and moved on to the next worker, her notebook filled with neat handwriting that revealed nothing.
Now she was back, and she wasn't conducting interviews.
She was hunting.
He grabbed his clipboard and headed toward the inventory shed, taking the long route that would bring him within earshot of where she stood with her partner—Sullivan, the local man with federal credentials.The man looked tired, worry lines etched deeper around his eyes than they'd been during the winter months.
"—pattern extends back at least five years," Rivers was saying, her voice carrying on the wind."Maybe longer.Accidental drownings, slip-and-fall injuries near the water, people who should have known better making fatal mistakes."
Sullivan nodded grimly."Problem is proving they weren't accidents."
"The problem is finding out who the perp is.”
He forced himself to keep walking, to maintain the shuffling gait of a man focused on mundane tasks.The lake had been quiet lately, offering him the blessed peace of routine work and ordinary days.No whispers calling him to the water's edge, no faces that needed to disappear beneath the dark surface.He should have been content with the silence.
Instead, he found himself drawn to watch her.
It made no sense.Every instinct honed over forty years of careful hunting told him to avoid her, to stay invisible until she grew frustrated and moved her attention elsewhere.The smart play was to request a transfer to another facility, maybe take some time off until the heat died down.
But whenever she appeared on the docks, he found reasons to work nearby.A shipping manifest that needed checking near where she examined the crane mechanisms.Inventory counts that required him to pass by the loading areas, she photographed.Always with his head down, always focused on legitimate work, never making eye contact.
In decades of making people disappear into the lake's depths, no one had ever come close to understanding what he really was.Police investigators saw accidents.Insurance adjusters saw unfortunate coincidences.Families saw tragic losses that reinforced why the waterfront was no place for the careless or unlucky.
But Agent Rivers saw him.
Not his face, not his name, probably not even his approximate age or physical description.But she saw the shape of his work, the deliberate craft behind what others dismissed as random misfortune.She recognized that someone was out there, someone who understood the lake's moods and currents well enough to make death look like an accident.
In a strange way, it was almost a relief.
He paused near a stack of shipping containers, clipboard forgotten in his hands as he watched her crouch near a section of dock railing.She was examining the concrete, looking for...what?Traces of impact?Blood evidence that the weather had long since washed away?
She was thorough.Methodical.Patient.
She was worthy prey.
The thought surfaced unbidden, and he pushed it down immediately.Agent Rivers wasn't prey—she was a threat that needed to be managed, avoided, outlasted until she gave up and moved on to other cases.He'd survived by never letting the hunt become personal, by treating each target as a problem to be solved rather than a challenge to be met.
But watching her work, seeing the quiet intensity with which she pursued the truth, he felt something stir that had been dormant for years.Not just the familiar call of the lake, but something more dangerous.
The morning whistle sounded again, marking the half-hour.He glanced at his clipboard, realized he'd been standing motionless for several minutes, and forced himself back into motion.Around him, the ordinary business of the shipyard continued—men loading containers, checking manifests, preparing vessels for another day on the water.
Agent Rivers straightened from her examination of the dock railing, brushing dust from her knees.She said something to Sullivan that he couldn't catch over the wind, then both agents began walking toward the main office building.
