Annie tried to act interested when her mind was other places. “Really?”
Sofie passed the paper back to her. “It isn’t very good quality. You can’t really see their faces.”
“Who needs to see their faces?” another woman in the van said with a wag of her eyebrows. Annie hadn’t caught her name, but she sounded English. Or Scottish. Or Irish. Annie hadn’t really gotten the accent distinctions down, and she’d learned not to ask. If she guessed wrong—no matter what it was—people tended to get offended.
Annie understood what the woman meant immediately. The photo was of four men on a beach. They were dragginga sailboat from the water and all wore board shorts, baseball hats, and sunglasses. And nothing else. All four were exceptionally well built. Um.Exceptionallywell built.
She scanned the photo quickly and then slowed as something processed. Her heart stopped and she sucked in her breath as her eyes went back to the second man from the right.
Oh... my... God.
She felt the blood drain from her face as she took in the familiar physique—minus the scars and burn marks. She would know those broad shoulders, muscular arms, and six-pack abs even if she didn’t also recognize the bearded jaw, broad smile, and blue hat. Although this hat was new and still had the Dallas Cowboys star patch on it. She wrinkled her nose with distaste. That explained the beaten-up, old-school-uniform powder blue cap with the missing logo.
She noted the names below the picture from left to right: Brandon Blake, John Donovan, Dean Baylor, and Michael Ruiz.
Dean Baylor.Dan was Dean. Her heart squeezed. Finally she at least knew his name.
Suddenly the rest hit her, and everything fell into place. He was one of the SEALs who’d supposedly vanished. That was why he was hiding. That was why he’d walked away from her.
It all made sense. He didn’t want her mixed up in whatever had caused him and the other survivors to go into hiding.
“Is something wrong?” Sofie asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Annie shook her head, forcing herself out of the daze although her mind was still reeling. “I was just reading the article. It’s interesting, but I’m afraid I have no more insight than anyone else on whether it’s true.” She forced a lighthearted laugh from a chest that was beating like a war drum. “But it certainly makes a good story.”
“It certainly does,” Martin agreed as a big gray building—from the sign, apparently a hotel—appeared on the road in front of them. He turned into a small parking lot overlooking the water. There were a few other cars around, but the hotel itself appeared to be permanently closed. “We’re here.”
Annie was glad for the interruption. As they climbed out of the minibus, she tried to process what she’d learned. Did this explain why Dean had left or was she just trying to make excuses for him and deluding herself again? What if the truth was that he really didn’t care about her?
Now that she knew who he was, did that really make a difference?
The group unpacked their gear and made their way down the grassy path from the parking lot to the pier where the chartered boat was already waiting for them in the small harbor.
In her short stay in the Western Isles, Annie had grown used to the stunning vistas, but Rodel, with its dark sea loch, stone shoreline, and grassy green rolling hills, seemed quintessentially Scotland. Beautiful, but eerily desolate and remote. It wasn’t hard to imagine things like sea monsters lurking in the deep black waters. If Loch Ness looked anything like this, she could see why the Nessie legend had persisted for so long.
The shuttered hotel seemed to be the only building for miles, although from her dive research she knew there was a medieval church nearby.
In no other place to which she’d traveled had she ever felt so completely removed from civilization as she had in some parts of Scotland, and Rodel topped all others. She felt as if she were standing at the edge of the world. It was a strange feeling. She felt at once small and alone, yet also closer than she’d ever imagined to the natural world around her.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sofie said.
Absorbed in the vista, Annie hadn’t heard the other woman come up behind her. They were standing at the edge of the pier while Martin spoke with the captain. Annie hoped he was qualified. He looked about eighteen.
“It is,” Annie agreed.
“Pretty to look at,” Marie said, joining them. “But I’d go crazy if I had to live in a place like this. I can’t imagine they have very good Internet connections—I can’t even get a cell signal.”
Like any millennial, Annie probably would have said thesame thing a few days ago. But she actually kind of liked not having a cell phone—for a few days at least. It was oddly freeing. Although she’d have to get another one soon, if nothing else for emergencies and so her mom could reach her. She was surprised Alice hadn’t had one waiting for her at the hotel with her number already speed-dialed in.
Some of the group had brought their own wet suits and gear, but Annie and the others were relying on the charter company’s rental equipment. They’d given them their general sizes ahead of time, and after a thorough inspection, Annie began the process of gearing up. As much time as she’d spent in a wet suit, you would think she would like them better. But they were a necessary pain in the ass. Actually a dry suit would be better for this type of cold water, but most companies didn’t rent them.
Although the day was blustery and gray, they wouldn’t have far to go even if the weather turned. The wreck of the 1950s steamship SSStassa, which had run aground in 1966, was at the head of the loch and not that far from shore. It was still mostly intact, and lying on its side in about twenty-five meters of water.
They boarded the blue-and-white converted fishing trawler called theGaelic Princess, and Captain Niall—who was indeed eighteen but assured them that he’d been doing this for “years”—ferried them the two-thirds of a mile or so out to the dive site.
After an inauspicious start, Annie found herself getting a little excited. She wasn’t a wreck bagger—she’d just made that term up—but she found them fascinating. She probably had James Cameron and the movieTitanicto thank for that. She’d been a child when she first saw those eerie images of the rusticle-laden ship materializing out of the deep blue water.
Up close, shipwrecks were even more moving. There was something both incredible and haunting about seeing an enormous steel machine lying in a watery grave.
