“Either one. It’s good to see you.”
“You, too. Any news?”
“Have you found my dad?” Liz leaned forward, focusing on Drake.
He stared out at the dark waves and moved to the boat rail. “Let’s get you all settled before we talk.”
That didn’t bode well. She could understand his concern for their well-being, but she didn’t plan to be left out of the loop or pushed aside. Drake, and the whole OPAQUE organization, needed to understand she wasn’t the type of person to go away nicely while they played their game of intrigue. Or espionage. Or whatever the heck this OPAQUE and Coercion Ten confrontation was about.
Evidently, she’d been kept in the dark by her parents for over twenty-some-odd years. Lived a life she didn’t even know existed. Not anymore. “No. I will not get settled until you tell me what’s happened to my dad.”
“There’s no news on your dad.” Drake shook his head as he turned to face her. “Now, how about you go below and get some of that food Reese mentioned?”
“I’m not calling you a liar, but there’s something you’re not telling me. I can see it in your stance. Hear it in your tone.” She heard the tremor in her own voice. “I’m not going anyplace until you tell me why they want my dad.”
Drake’s forehead furrowed. He glanced at Mitch then back at her. “I swear there’s nothing new on this situation.”
“I heard you tell Mitch, we’d talk later.”
“Trust me, we will. My current priority is for you to take care of yourself. Can you do that for me?”
Lightheaded for a moment, she had to admit food might be a good idea. Trust was another thing. She’d always trusted her dad. He had trusted Drake. Naturally, she’d trusted Drake, too. Now, they’d both lied to her. So, whom could she trust? Who hadn’t lied to her? Kept her in the dark?
She brushed her hair back from her face then glanced at Mitch. “What do you think? Is he telling me the truth?” She’d believe whatever she heard from him. After all, he’d been the man who pulled her from the water, gotten her safely across the Gulf, and kept her warm. Now, she was tired and needed him to help her one more time. To tell her the truth.
A brief glance exchanged between the two men, and he said, “He’s not lying to you.”
She lowered her head. No word…no word on her dad. How much worse could this get? She looked up. “Does he ever lie?”
“Yes. He does.” Mitch raised his eyebrows.
Something deep inside her barred her from asking the next question in her mind.
He stepped forward, gently turning her toward the steps down to the cabin. “You’ve had a long night, Liz. Time to take a break.”
“Thanks…for everything.” She touched the side of his hand then plodded over to Drake and gave him a hug. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” Drake hugged her then pointed toward stairs leading to the boat cabin. “Each stateroom has a bathroom. You’ll find clean clothes laying on one of the beds. We guessed at your size.”
“I need to know one thing before I go,” she said. “Do you think my dad is still alive?”
“Yes.”
His answer had been direct, fast, and to the point. For the time being, she’d have to settle for that.
She nodded then took the steps down the passageway into the boat cabin. The main area included a modern galley kitchen complete with stainless appliances, large sitting space, and hallway, leading to the staterooms she guessed. Neutral walls and furnishings, with accessories in bright white and even brighter colors, made the place inviting.
Anchored like they were with the engines off, the peacefulness of quiet and the lull of the waves would make sleeping easy. Feeling a light breeze as she walked past one of the open portholes, she stopped and moved closer, lifting her face toward the wind fluffing her hair.
“Do you think she’s gone to her stateroom?” Mitch asked. “Because we need to talk.”
She pressed against the cabinets, making sure to tuck her toes out of view. Why would they check to make sure she couldn’t hear? Had they both lied to her? Worse yet, had the lie been something bad about her dad neither wanted her to know?
Footsteps sounded on the deck, stopping at the top of the passageway stairs. “Looks like it,” Drake responded as his footsteps carried back across the deck. “Let’s go to the wheelhouse where she won’t be as apt to hear us.”
The two pairs of footsteps climbed the stair ladder to the wheelhouse. She moved partway up the steps out of the cabin, hoping to find a better spot to listen. If they started the engines, she wouldn’t be able to hear, but for now she was just fine.
“Where’s my team?” Mitch’s footsteps had barely stepped onto the wheelhouse deck before he got right to the point.
