She hated leaving Diggins, but she had a feeling that he could, in fact, take care of himself. The man had struck a deal with her almost on par with emotional blackmail andshowed his years of practice at withholding information, using it as a bargaining tool like someone who was accustomed to a world where secrets were currency.
Not unlike the world in which her mother thrived.
She shuddered at the comparison but had no time to think on it as she focused on descending the rickety ladder into their skiff that rocked on the choppy water a little too much for comfort. Once Cressida settled in the skiff, Braden started the engine and navigated away from the anchored liveaboard boats, then sped toward the lights of the marina.
Maybe now wasn’t the time, but she had to know and turned to look at his tense features, eyes focused ahead, lips flat.
“Braden. Tell me what’s happened.” She had to raise her voice over the wind and the boat’s motor.
“Madeline Chase. Evelyn Monroe’s assistant? Mrs. Monroe claims that Madeline tried to kill her.”
Air whooshed out of Cressida. She pressed her hands over her mouth.
“Is she all right?” Cressida finally managed.
“Yes, as far as I know.”
“But what more? There must be more.”
“There is. But it’s an ongoing investigation. I can’t talk about it. I shouldn’t have shared what I did, but meeting her is important to you. I’m trying to prepare you for the fact there might be a kink in your plan.”
His jaw worked as he focused on his thoughts and getting them back to the marina. Cressida held on as Braden steered them across the rough water on an otherwise beautiful night. With the blinking lights and decorations for the Pirates’ Bash opening tomorrow, the rustic marina looked homey and welcoming, and Cressida needed that. Still, she knew better than most that looks could be deceiving, and if her father had been murdered, she believed his death mustbe due to something he discovered here—why else would Diggins claim to know anything at all about a death that happened all the way across the country? Her attack also related to that discovery.
Oh yes, she could see through those twinkling, dancing lights at the marina—a growing shadow of danger hung over Hidden Bay. Braden docked and moored the boat, and they returned the keys by dropping them in a box since the chandlery was closed, then they walked in silence to his motorcycle.
As much as she had pretended this wasn’t a date, all while wishing it was, now her time with Braden was coming to a harrowing end. Still, she knew she hadn’t seen the end of him.
This was only the beginning.
“I assume you’re taking me back to the lodge,” she said.
He gently gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look him in his serious face, his steely blue eyes intense. Demanding. “Promise me you’ll stay in your room tonight. Don’t leave the lodge. Please, just ... watch your back.”
“I’m more worried about both Diggins and Mrs. Monroe than I am myself. Is this ... typical in Hidden Bay?”
“What? Crime?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Crime is everywhere, Cressida.”
“It feels like it’s all connected.”
“I agree.” With those words, he donned his helmet, and she did too.
She climbed on behind him and held on again. This time, all the rush of adrenaline and excitement drained away, replaced with a dread that weighed on her. Maybe the reality of her near-death experience was finally hitting her—and if that was the case, she’d had a delayed response.
After Dad died, she had promised herself that she wouldlive one day at a time. That’s what he’d always told her, but she found that fear of the past or dread of the future ate away at that promise. Still, in this moment, she savored the feel of her arms around Braden. Even though Braden’s presence was temporary in her world, in this moment, living one day at a time, she was with him, and he was the rock she held on to.
In the waning light, he ascended the road to the top of the cliffside—which was a bit terrifying. She struggled to recall how carefree she’d felt just a few days ago on theMariner’s Gambit. Her life had been upended the first few moments in Hidden Bay. But she still had breath and was still strong, and she would stay the course—like any seaman fighting the greatest storm of his life.
With a few miles of road behind them, Braden parked next to her rental vehicle in the Cedar Lodge lot. She hopped off, removed the helmet, and handed it to him.
“You keep it for next time.” He didn’t get off his motorcycle.
Next time?“Braden.”
“Yeah.” His tone said he was preoccupied. She understood.
