Risky Attraction: A slow burn, romantic

thriller (Wolf Security Book 1) Kendall

Talbot
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Risky Attraction
WOLF SECURITY SERIES
BOOK ONE

KENDALL TALBOT
 CHAPTER 1

Piper

“I hate you!” Scout yelled until the tendons in her neck bulged.
“Scout, please,” I begged half-heartedly. I didn’t have the energy to continue the pointless argument anymore.
Despite being just fourteen, my daughter already matched me in height. She flared her green eyes at me, then stomped up the
stairs from the galley and disappeared through the hatchway onto the top deck of our sailing yacht.
It wasn’t the first time my daughter had yelled that she hated me, but just like all the other times, I wished it would be her
last. I opened a can of coconut milk and stirred the contents into the red curry paste, onions, ginger, and garlic sizzling in the
base of a heavy pot on the stove.
I flicked away a tear, furious that she still evoked overwhelming sadness in me.
It had been eighteen months since my husband had died, and Scout still blamed me for her father’s death.
His death wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Lewis died of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, and there was
absolutely no explanation why an extremely fit thirty-four-year-old professional football player, in the prime of his life,
succumbed to such a brutal incurable disease.
Lewis and I had planned to do this trip around Australia as a family.
But his diagnosis, and the following eight months of hell that ended in his life being cut short, crushed our dreams of sailing
away together.
A brisk breeze blew into the cabin, and I shut the porthole over the sink. As Thai curry aromas filled the galley, I added my
secret ingredient, crunchy peanut butter, to the pot and stirred until it melted.
I had hoped that by dragging Scout away from our home, where memories of the man we loved were everywhere, her self-
destructive habits and anger would abate. It had been three months since we left Perth, and out here on the ocean, we were at
the mercy of the waves and the crisp breezes . . . and I was at the mercy of Scout’s fiery personality.
Some days with my daughter were beautiful and memorable, and then there were days like today when I couldn’t do or say
anything right. I longed for the amazing family life we’d had before Lewis had been diagnosed.
Lewis had been the buffer between Scout and me. From the moment Scout had started school, we clashed, and she’d made
it well known that she loved her father more than me. Maybe it was because Lewis had taught her fun things like sailing and
fishing and how to kick a football, while I had to force her to do her homework and wash the dishes and remind her to look
after herself all the damn time.
Being a mom was hard work.
Being a widow and a single mom when my daughter hated me for all the wrong reasons, broke my soul.
As Dreamcatcher dipped and rocked with a wave, I added prawns and chunks of snapper to the simmering red curry. I’d
caught that fish earlier today. Catching fish in these abundant waters was easy. The hard part was landing them before the
sharks stole the meal off my line. I’d lost three decent-sized fish before I’d caught the snapper simmering in the pan.
From the oven, I pulled roasted pumpkin pieces and added them to the pot, along with green beans and boiled carrots.
Mild Thai red curry was one of Scout’s favorite dishes. Not mine though. But that was what I did as a mom. I sacrificed to
make her happy. Fat lot of good that did.
Maybe this trip was a big mistake.
Maybe I should turn around, rather than finish the remaining six months circumnavigating Australia like I’d planned.
No, like Lewis and I had planned.
Then again, this trip was nothing like we wanted.
Not when he was dead, I was grieving, and Scout was making my days pure hell.
Sighing, I spooned cooked rice into two bowls, topped them with the seafood curry, and added a sprinkling of fried shallots
we’d bought in bulk after we’d discovered them at a fun Asian food market in Darwin six weeks ago.
“Scout,” I called up the hatchway. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Go away.”
 I groaned. I couldn’t go away even if I wanted to. We were sailing in the Coral Sea, a vast body of water off Australia’s
North Queensland Coast. The nearest shore was thirty miles away.
Clenching my jaw, I carried one bowl of food and cutlery up the galley stairs. At the top, moonlight danced off the ocean
swell, and I frowned at the black clouds on the horizon. They hadn’t been there when I’d stepped down into the cabin earlier to
shower and prepare dinner.
Making a mental note to check the weather after we ate, I crossed the deck to the teakwood seating area at the aft, where we
usually ate our meals together.
Scout was at the rear of the yacht, dangling her legs over the side.
“Dinner’s ready.” I placed the plate on the table.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I made your favorite red fish curry.”
“I said I’m not hungry! You never listen.”
“I am listening, Scout. You’re yelling loud enough for everyone to hear.”
“There is no one else, Mom. You made fucking sure of that.”
“Don’t swear at me.” I glared at her.
She turned to face me, and in the moonlight, her squared-out jaw reminded me so much of Lewis my heart sagged.
The tension between us hung heavy in the night air, and the rhythmic creaking of the yacht’s rigging added to my mournful
emotional state. Scout’s defiance cut deep. She would never talk to me like that if Lewis was here, and her anger added to my
grief which was like an anchor dragging me into a bottomless ocean.
Waves lapped into Dreamcatcher’s side in a lovely symphony that was at odds with the turmoil tangling my thoughts.
“Scout, please, can we just have dinner together?”
“Oh, my god. You don’t listen. I. Am. Not. Hungry!” She spread her fingers like they were claws that she wanted to scratch
down my face.
I heaved a breath. “Fine.”
We’d had this argument over her not eating so many times it was almost comical. She would dig her heels in, adamant that
she wouldn’t eat, then come the middle of the night, she would wake me with her rummaging through the galley in search of
food.
Our limited Tupperware supply got a constant workout with my meal leftovers.
Sitting at the table on cushions that I’d sewn by hand to custom fit the seating nook, I ate a forkful of curry.
I’d held back on my favorite spicy paste to make the meal mild for Scout. After eating another mouthful, a wave of anger
washed through me. The Thai curry was bland because of her.
Our argument was because of her.
Yet it was up to me to calm her rage. It always was. I was already out of my depth with her. She needed her father, not me.
But it was a pointless acknowledgment. I was all she had, and I had no choice but to keep trying. “Scout.”
“What?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, revealing a vulnerability behind her tough exterior.
“I know you miss your father. I do, too. Every single day. Every hour of every day.”
“Then what are we doing out here, Mom? It’s not helping you. It sure as hell isn’t helping me. I hate it out here. I hate the
ocean. I hate this stupid yacht. And I hate—” She sucked in a shaky breath.
“I know. You hate me, too. You told me.”
She glared at me, clenching her teeth so hard her head trembled. “I can’t pretend everything is fine like you do.”
I put my fork down. My appetite had gone anyway. “I can assure you, Scout, I don’t think everything is fine. I miss your
father more than you will ever know.”
“This stupid trip isn’t going to bring him back, you know. So stop pretending that you’re enjoying it.”
I slumped in my seat. “I’m not pretending. This was a trip we’d been planning as a family for—”
“Exactly. As a family. We’re not a fucking family anymore!”
My chest caved.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as if Mother Nature’s heart also ached.
I picked a fried shallot off my plate and ate it. “I wish you’d stop swearing.”
She threw her hands out in frustration. “Fuck. Fuckety. Fuck.”
“Well, that’s very mature.”
She drove her hands through her cropped blonde hair. “Oh, and lying is mature?”
“When did I lie?”
“When you told me Dad wasn’t dying.”
A knot wedged in my throat. “That’s not fair, Scout. We didn’t know Dad’s diagnosis when I said that.”
“You told me he’d be with us for years.”
Heaving a calming breath, I stood and crossed the deck toward her. “When I said that, I believed it to be true. None of us
knew how quickly he’d pass away.”
I sat a few feet from her and dangled my legs over the side, too. Dreamcatcher’s gentle sway gave the illusion that
everything was perfect.
It wasn’t. Not much was perfect at all.
But I had to continue with this trip. Backing down would make me look weak to my daughter, and I needed her to know that
I was just as capable as her father was.
Although, many times out here on the ocean my determination was tested to the limit. Like today.
It didn’t help that Scout reminded me of Lewis so much that sometimes just looking at her hurt me to my core. She’d
inherited his height, athletic build, and wild blonde hair. And her green eyes were the color of freshly podded peas, mirroring
Lewis’ eyes exactly. Scout also had his sense of humor . . . when she forgot to be angry at me, that was.
When Scout hit puberty and developed womanly curves that were well beyond her years, she’d rebelled against everything.
That was when I’d lost control of her.
I tried damn hard to turn that around.
Five months ago, I’d rushed to Scout’s bedside in the same hospital where Lewis had lost too many hours of his life. I
hadn’t noticed that she’d snuck out of her bedroom in the middle of the night and had been found unconscious at the house of a
seventeen-year-old girl who I didn’t even know. At fourteen years old, my grieving daughter had accidentally overdosed.
I was devastated. She would never have touched drugs if Lewis was around.
If I’d lost her, too, I would not be able to claw myself back from my already overwhelming grief.
Two months after her overdose, I dragged Scout away from the school she hated, the friends she hated, and the home she
hated and made her come with me on a sailing trip around Australia that we should be doing with her father, my husband, the
love of my life.
“Scout. I know you think I pretend everything is fine, but I assure you, it’s not.
“I know it’s not. It’s shit.”
I swept my gaze to the twinkling stars, praying I would find the wisdom to help my daughter.
Silence grew between us, and as the waves slapped against the boat with perfect repetition, a bolt of lightning lit up the
thunderhead cloud that drifted toward the moon. “Looks like we’re in for a storm.”
“We already have a fucking storm, Mom. You and me.”
I tilted my head toward her. “You like saying fuck, don’t you?”
“Fuck yeah.” She shot me a defiant look that added five years to her age.
“Interesting.” I wrapped my fingers over the aluminum handrail.
She shifted her position so she could glare at me more thoroughly. “What’s interesting?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
That was a word she threw at me all the time. It was nice to use it back at her for a change.
“Don’t say nothing.”
I giggled and had no idea why. None of this was amusing.
“What’s so funny?” she hissed.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, great. You’re hilarious.” She rolled her eyes.
“Thanks.” I flashed a fake smile. “You are, too, when you’re not trying to be mad at me.”
“I was being sarcastic. And I’m not trying to be mad. I am mad at you.”
“Yes, and why is that? Oh, that’s right, because I cooked your favorite meal which I deliberately made with less spice than
I prefer, just so you would enjoy it.”
Her dark eyebrows drilled together. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“No, that’s right, Scout, you didn’t. But I do lots of things for you, hoping they will make you happy.”
“Taking me home will make me happy.”
“You weren’t happy at home.”
Her eyes flared. “Of course not. You made my life hell. And Dad pissed off and left me.”
“Hey! Don’t say that.”
She scrambled to her feet.
“Scout!”
“Leave me alone,” she screamed so loud it must have hurt her throat.
I flopped onto the deck, and breathing through the knot in my throat, I studied the Milky Way that stretched from one horizon
to the other. The blinking blue light of a satellite was directly overhead.
“What do I do with her?” I asked the stars.
A crack of thunder boomed across the water, and I sat up as two streaks of lightning blazed from the sky to the ocean.
“Damn.” The drifting cloud had nearly reached the moon. That storm was coming our way, and it was moving fast. That
was usually a good sign because it should blow away just as quickly.
I dragged myself upright, and while I watched the thunderstorm in action, I finished my curry and then made sure everything
on the upper deck was secured. We had endured four massive storms since we’d set sail from Perth. The worst one was as we
sailed around the top of Australia’s Cape York. That storm had the devil behind it, and the wild seas and ferocious winds had
tested my sailing skills to the limit.
But it had been good to go through that wild weather because it showed me what I was capable of. If Lewis had been with
us, he would have controlled the yacht. Without him here, every decision was on me. Making the right ones for our boat came
easy.
For our daughter, not so much.
I returned downstairs and checked the barometer. As I expected, the atmospheric pressure had dropped significantly in the
last hour. The storm was definitely heading our way.
I divided the uneaten meal into four Tupperware dishes, two of which I put into the freezer. As I washed the dishes, I was
treated to a lightning show that blazed across the night sky in a dazzling array of lights through the porthole window.
When Lewis and I had first met, whenever a storm was coming, he often drove me to Lesmurdie Falls National Park where
we would hike up to the top of the waterfall and sit for hours overlooking the Perth city skyline to watch the storm roll in.
Many times, we’d left our departure too late and got drenched to our core as we walked back down the hill.
But we always laughed at our mistakes.
Scout had also been a mistake. A delightful one, though. We hadn’t planned to have a baby. We’d only been dating for a
year, and we had both been just twenty-two when I’d fallen pregnant. We’d been overjoyed. My parents, though, hated Lewis.
They were adamant his wild partying ways would end in heartbreak for me.
They were wrong about him. Lewis and Scout were the best things to ever happen to me. Now he was gone, and my
daughter hated me.
I have never felt so alone in my life.
A thunderbolt clapped so loud overhead I jumped. That storm was almost upon us.
I need to get my shit together.
Shoving aside my endless misery, I finished cleaning the galley and then sat at the computer nook to assess the storm. The
weather radar displayed one large cloud mass forming to the east that swirled in vibrant blue and pink. I examined the extent of
the storm and lightning activity on my live satellite feed.
This storm was a baby compared to the storm we’d experienced at the top end of Australia.
I noted our position in the logbook and put away all the loose items on the table. As the clouds smothered the moon,
darkness ebbed into the yacht, adding to the emotional downer already crushing me.
Working my way around Dreamcatcher’s cabin, I ensured everything was secured, including the cupboards that Lewis and I
had custom-built with our own hands.
Scout’s sleeping quarters were just off the kitchen and seating nook. Her room was a compact yet comfortable space where
she slept on a narrow bunk with a much better mattress than mine. She was lying on the bed, wearing her headphones, and had
her feet up on the rail at the end. A pile of clothes was on the floor that hadn’t been there when I’d passed this area before
dinner.
“Hey, Scout.”
Either she ignored me, or her music was blaring so loud she couldn’t hear me.
I stepped into her room and clicked my fingers above her face.
She rolled her gaze toward me with a what-do-you-want expression, and I glared at her until she removed her headphones.
“What?”
“Clean this stuff off the floor. There’s a storm coming.”
She waggled her head and reached for her headphones.
I gripped her wrist. “Now. Scout.”
“Okay.” She yanked her arm free. “Don’t panic.”
I left her quarters and strode to my cabin. My double bed wasn’t much bigger than Scout’s bunk. If Lewis and I had made
this journey together, sleeping in that bed with his big frame would have been an adventure. Then again, everything with him
had been an adventure. I missed our adventures. I missed him. Lewis had a way of caressing me that made me feel so complete,
so loved.
I wriggled off my diamond engagement ring and wedding band and put them with Lewis’ wedding ring in the cupboard
beside my bed. Wearing rings while handling ropes was never a good idea. I smiled at Lewis’ mantra. He hardly ever wore his
wedding ring. Between football and sailing, his only piece of jewelry spent more time on a gold eagle statue he’d had beside
our bed than it had on his finger.
I glanced around my beautiful wood-paneled cabin, ensuring everything was secure. Every piece of timber on this boat had
been lovingly restored by Lewis and me. It had been a form of therapy for him. Football was a brutal profession that required
strict diets and rigid training regimes. Dreamcatcher had given him a sense of freedom. It broke my heart that he wasn’t able to
fulfill his dreams when our yacht was finally ready to sail.
I pulled my long hair into a ponytail, changed into black Lycra shorts and a pink T-shirt, put on a raincoat that I zipped up to
my neck, and pulled on my rubber-soled shoes.
As I walked past Scout’s quarters, she was still on her bed wearing her headphones, but the clothes that had been on her
floor were gone. She’d most likely just shoved them into her tiny wardrobe.
I shouldn’t be surprised. When I was her age, I would have done exactly the same.
My return to the top deck was met with a rumble of thunder as if the low growl was coming straight from the heart of the
storm.
My heart kicked up a beat at the swirling dark clouds overhead. It was like looking underneath an alien aircraft. I tugged on
a life jacket and pulled the straps tight around my waist.
Fat, heavy raindrops splattered onto the deck, adding a monotonous drumbeat to the booms of thunder. The sea had
transformed into a churning cauldron of frothy waves, and Dreamcatcher bobbed and swayed in erratic, jerky movements.
The ocean was letting me know who was in charge: Mother Nature.
A jagged fork of lightning streaked across the sky.
Damn. That was close.
Gripping the steering wheel, I clipped myself into the safety harness, and as my knuckles bulged white, I aimed
Dreamcatcher into the turbulent waves.
The wind howled like a demon, tearing at the jib sail at the front of my yacht in unpredictable squalls that snapped and
billowed the fabric, testing the quality of my rigging.
Loose strands of hair whipped around my face, and as the heavens opened, rain came down in torrents, drenching me to the
bone.
A massive wave crashed over the bow, and the polished timber vanished beneath the whitewash. Gripping the wheel, I
stood my ground as the yacht surged forward and rode up the crest of a massive wave.
Wind screeched with a ferocity that matched the ocean’s fury, and rain pelted my face like dozens of stinging needles,
mingling with the salty sea spray that stung my eyes.
A burst of lightning lit up a ten-foot wave ahead.
Where the hell did that come from?
“Hang on, Scout!” I yelled, but I had no idea if she’d removed her headphones or even moved from her bed.
She’ll move in a minute when she feels Dreamcatcher climbing up that wall of water.
Gritting my teeth, I strangled the wheel and braced my feet on the side timber struts as the front of my yacht rode higher and
higher, heading for the wave’s peak.
For one heart-stopping moment, Dreamcatcher teetered at the top, and then, with a bone-rattling crash, we slammed down
the other side, carving into the wave and creating walls of water that burst out either side of the hull.
Another wave was behind the first. It was bigger. Much bigger.
Shit!
Dreamcatcher hadn’t recovered from the first wave. Her nose was still downward.
“Hang on, Scout!”
Letting go of the wheel, I crouched and gripped the safety rail as a wall of water barreled toward us. Squeezing my eyes
shut, I leaned into the helm and as the wind screamed its fury, the wave slammed into us, devouring my boat in a wall of frothy,
churning water.
Dreamcatcher bucked and shuddered at the brutal impact as the tremendous weight of the water threatened to tear my yacht
apart.
But the water washed away as quickly as it came, and as I stood, a burst of lightning blazed overhead that was brighter than
anything I’d ever seen over the ocean.
Another wave blocked our path, but Dreamcatcher was ready for this one.
We rode up the wave which was half the size of the previous one. The yacht’s bow aimed skyward as if defying the storm.
We crested the top, tipped forward, and slammed down the other side.
A sickening boom thundered from the bow.
Crunching metal-on-metal screeched below my feet.
“Shit!”
We crashed into something!
Scout’s terrified scream carved through the chaos. “Mom! Water is coming in!”
 CHAPTER 2

Ryder

I splashed water on my face, trying not to look at my reflection in the mirror. But my eyes were my enemy, dragging my
attention to the fucking claw scars on my neck. Those scars were three years old. The four jagged stripes had faded, but how
I’d gotten them would never fade. Ever.
That brutal memory was in my brain.
And it will burn there for the rest of my miserable life.
Shoving down the bullshit, I dried my hands on my uniform shirt and strode from the restroom. Beneath my feet, Coral
Guardian rolled to portside, riding the swell of the incoming storm with ease. The hum of the boat's big diesel engines was my
constant companion on these night shifts, reminding me that I had to keep moving.
If I stopped, the memories would bleed into me and remind me of the moment where everything I knew zeroed in on one
brutal lie.
I entered the Patrol Boat bridge to the sound of Whisper and Jeff laughing. They stopped as I entered like I’d walked in on
a conversation I had no right to hear. These two crew members laughed often. And so they should. They didn’t have burdens
crushing them like I did.
“Hey, boss. Thought you must have nodded off in the bathroom,” Whisper said.
“I don’t even want to know what you were doing in there.” Jeff stepped back, raising his hands like I was contaminated.
“Anything to report?” I dodged their conversation.
“Quiet as a nunnery.” Jeff’s gaze remained fixed on the radar screen where blips of light denoted the positions of nearby
vessels.
“What’s the status of the storm?” I asked Whisper.
“All good. She’s barely a breeze. Shouldn’t give us any grief.” Whisper swiveled in her chair to the satellite photo
depicting a swirl of colorful cloud mass about thirty miles from our location.
As the clock on the wall clicked to nine p.m., I sipped my coffee and wished for something to happen. My wish was a
double-edged sword. Whenever our patrol boat was called into action, it was usually at someone else’s peril. On the ocean,
danger could rear its ugly head at any moment. And since my world had gone to shit, I lived for those moments.
It was pathetic. I was pathetic.
Yet I had no idea how to snap myself out of my miserable bullshit.
Snatching my binoculars from their bracket, I stepped out of the bridge onto the narrow deck that ran the length of the boat.
Waves slapped against the hull, adding a heartbeat to the turmoil crashing through me. Scents of salt water and the faint tang of
diesel fuel lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of the coffee drifting from the bridge.
Tomorrow will be my thirty-eighth birthday. I hated birthdays. Worse still, I hated that Whisper and Jeff knew it was my
birthday. I’d seen the cake in the fridge that Jeff’s wife had baked. It would be for me. When our shift ticked past midnight, they
would sing Happy Birthday and present the cake, and I would have to pretend I was happy. Instead, any wonderful birthday
memories I had were crushed by one fucked-up birthday that threatened to obliterate my mind.
I grazed my fingers over the scars on my neck and shuddered with fury.
Why did she do it? Why?
I’d been asking the same question over and over for three long, gut-wrenching years. But I would never have the answer.
My wife, Emily, had made sure of that.
Forcing down my turmoil, I raised the binoculars and peered across the inky black waves that shimmered beneath the
moonlight.
Inside the bridge, Whisper sat on the satellite monitor console, sipping from a cup. A pang of sorrow washed through me at
how young and carefree she was. She reminded me so much of Emily that my heart threatened to crack in two. The women
looked completely different, but their fun-loving, carefree nature was so similar it was freaky. Until my wife proved how much
of a heartless bitch she was.
 Fuck.
I spun back to the ocean, forcing my mind away from Emily and onto the job I should be doing: protecting North
Queensland’s coastline. But there wasn’t a single thing to distract me. It was going to be a long night.
Following the coffee aroma, I re-entered the bridge.
“What’s up with you? You look like you saw The Meg.” Whisper giggled. She and Jeff had laughed about the giant shark
portrayed in The Meg movie earlier.
I shook my head, trying to eradicate my emotional bullshit. “Nothing.”
“It’s quiet out there, huh?” Jeff put his mug down next to the computer console.
“Yeah, too quiet,” I said. A jagged streak of forked lightning pierced the dark horizon. “It's like the sea's holding its breath,
waiting for something to happen."
Whisper looked up from her station with a sassy glint in her eyes. “You got your sixth sense activated again, Captain?”
I offered a half-smile. “Maybe. Call it intuition.”
“Well, I hope not.” Jeff eased back in his chair, propped his feet on the computer console, and threaded his hands behind
his head. “I kinda like the peace.”
“You’re getting soft, old man.” Whisper scooped her dark hair around her ear.
“Hey, what’s with the old man stuff?” Jeff scowled. “I’m only forty-three.”
“It’s not your age that makes you old, Jeff.” Whisper flashed a stunning grin.
“Here we go. The Great Whisperer is going to impart her twenty-three-year-old wisdom to us. Are you ready, Ryder?”
I raised my hands. “Hey, don’t put me in your old man category.”
“Jeez, us blokes are meant to stick toge—”
Static crackled through the radio. “Air Sea Rescue to Coral Guardian, are you there?”
I snatched the microphone off the hook on the wall. “Coral Guardian to Air Sea Rescue, I read you. Over.”
“Is that you, Ryder? It’s Levi. Over.”
“Yep, Ryder here. How you doing, Levi? Over.”
“I’m good, sir, but I’ve just flown over the quarantined waters above Chui’s sunken yacht, and there’s a boat anchored
nearby. Over.”
“Son of a bitch.” I shook my head at Whisper and Jeff.
“It’s a big boat, too. Over,” Levi said.
Since details were released of Chui’s involvement in the hundreds of gold bars that went missing during World War II, the
number of people who attempted to scuba dive down to the multi-million-dollar yacht that sunk with Chui inside had increased
triple fold. Nosy fuckers wanted a piece of Chui’s yacht, or as many of them had told me after I’d slapped them with a fifteen
hundred dollar fine, they wanted to see if there was any gold hidden down there.
“I doubt that boat is there for sightseeing. Over.” Levi’s voice cracked over the radio.
“What makes you say that? Over.”
“They had floodlights aiming overboard, giving me the impression they had divers in the water. Over.”
“Stupid bastards.” Groaning, I turned to Jeff. “Set course for that sunken yacht.”
“Yes, sir.” He strode to the control panel at the helm. “So much for my relaxing night shift.”
“Add the details to our logbook,” I said to Whisper as I pushed the throttle forward.
“I would go around and take another look,” Levi said through the comms, “but I’m on a rescue flight with a patient I just
airlifted off a P&O Cruise liner. Over.”
“How is the patient? Over.” I asked Levi.
“As long as she doesn’t have her baby in my chopper, we’ll both be fine. Over.”
I chuckled. I’d heard several renditions about Levi helping a woman give birth on Kangaroo Island a year or so ago, but the
way he told the story was fucking funny.
“Hey, Levi, how much longer until your baby is due?” I asked.
“Six weeks.” He said it like it was coming way too fast for his liking.
A pang of jealousy whipped through me, and I smacked it down. “Exciting times ahead, my friend. Over.”
“It scares the fucking shit out of me, mate.” Levi laughed.
“I bet it does. Anyway, thanks for the intel on that boat, Levi. Have you told Aria? Over.” I had been with Aria when she’d
investigated Chui’s sunken yacht. And when she’d nearly lost her life diving in these waters. Fucking crazy woman.
“Not yet,” Levi said. “I thought I’d get you onto it before I called her at this time of night. Over.”
“Thanks, Levi. Let her know we’re investigating, and I’ll let her know once we have information about what we’re dealing
with. Over.”
“Roger that. Over and out.”
I hooked up the microphone and raised the binoculars. The waves had picked up a fraction since I’d last looked across the
ocean. “What’s your read on that storm, Whisper?”
 “Still about twenty miles off, sir, but it’s tracking our way.”
I nodded. “I wonder if the dipshits over Chui’s yacht know there’s a storm coming?”
“If they’re as dumb as the last ones, probably not,” Jeff said.
I lowered the binoculars. The last four guys we’d issued the fines to had attempted to dive down to Chui’s yacht in broad
daylight. Once they’d known they were in trouble, they’d tried to outrun our patrol boat. Stupid bastards had capsized their
vessel in their attempted escape, and they added another three thousand dollars to the fines by attempting to evade the law. That
wreck was still under investigation. Once that was over, I didn’t give a shit who dove down to it.
“Seems like your intuition was on point again, boss,” Whisper said.
Ignoring her comment, I stared out the front windshield that stretched across the full length of the bridge. Moonlight cast an
eerie glow onto the churning sea, increasing my unease. I didn’t believe I had intuition. If I did, I would have felt it during the
hours before my life changed forever, and my wife wouldn’t be dead.
It was a pointless mental debate. I didn’t stop what happened because I had no fucking clue Emily could be so heartless.
Sucking in a caustic breath, I stood at the helm with my grip firm on the wheel and scanned the ocean. The swell had
increased again, obscuring the lights from the procession of cruise ships and cargo ships that were a constant conga line at the
horizon.
Beside me, Jeff monitored the radar. He tapped the tiny green dot, pinpointing the exact location of Chui’s sunken yacht.
“Gotcha. Hmmm, that’s strange. I’ve got Chui’s marker here, but if there’s another boat in that location, it’s not showing up.”
“That’s not good,” Whisper said.
If there was a boat over Chui’s wreck, then they went to a lot of trouble to ensure nobody could track their existence.
Between the three of us, we all had different reasons why apprehending assholes who broke the law was so important to
us. It was the one thing we had in common, and our unwavering dedication created a bond between us that was as unbreakable
as the steel hull below.
Whisper sat at the communication station with her headphones on, and she listened for any transmissions on the radio that
might offer a clue to the idiots we were hunting down.
I guided Coral Guardian in the opposite direction to the incoming storm, but the upheaval above us was making its
presence known via streaks of lightning and booming thunderclaps that drowned out our thumping engines.
Finally, I spotted the dark silhouette of the boat anchored above the sunken wreckage. It was larger than I had imagined, and
a wave of unease drilled through me. These guys weren’t dumb thugs attempting to get in on some sunken treasure action.
“There they are.” Peering through his binoculars, Jeff pointed at our twelve o’clock.
“I see them.”
These guys were serious. Their decision to perform this dive under the cover of darkness, and with a storm set to turn this
area into chaos, was a mark of brilliance. Below the surface, the storm would barely churn the water, and a boat like that
would easily weather the wind and waves.
“Jeff, prepare to initiate contact,” I said. “Whisper, did you find anything on those frequencies?”
“No, sir. Nothing.”
That information suggested that we were approaching men who knew their actions were illegal.
“Listen up,” I said. “I have a bad feeling about this. These guys have put some planning into this dive, so I’m guessing us
crashing their party will not be taken lightly.”
Whisper nodded. She was one of the bravest women I’d had the pleasure of working with. That kind of confidence could
be an advantage, but I also knew how dangerous it could be.
I adjusted our course so we could come alongside the illegal boat.
As we approached, the movements of four men on the rear deck of the other boat changed to frantic.
“They’ve made us,” Jeff said. He’d obviously seen the same commotion as me through his binoculars.
“Drop anchor, Jeff.” I put the boat into reverse to halt our approach. “We’re close enough.”
“Yes, sir.”
As I killed the engines, two men on the other boat ran inside. At the rear of the vessel, an additional two men leaned over
the side, and as a bubble of water burst on the surface, I figured they were trying to pull up whoever was scuba diving below.
Stupid fuckers could kill their divers doing shit like that.
My suspicions that they wouldn’t back down lightly intensified. They weren't pleasure seekers or salvagers.
These assholes had a mission.
“Jeff, get our spotlight on them. Whisper, contact HQ, and let them know we may have a hostile situation.”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
I removed the megaphone from its bracket. “I’ll see if I can talk some sense into these idiots.”
Out of nowhere, rain lashed the front windshield.
“Great.” I groaned. “This is going to be fun.”
We’d stopped broadside to the waves, and Coral Guardian rode the choppy swell like a brick. As the boat rocked beneath
me, I used the binoculars to peer through the curtain of rain to the dark silhouette of the illegal boat that diminished to a murky
shape in the storm’s wrath.
I’d seen my share of desperate men on these waters. I’d even had men vanish while trying to evade my attempted
apprehension. Aria from Wolf Security had been with me and my crew that time. She’d nearly drowned because of her reckless
decision to chase after one of the perps. Thankfully, she’d been found safe. The guy who she’d chased though . . . he was never
found. Nor his body. Yet he was assumed to be dead.
I had no intention of anyone dying on this watch.
Turning to Whisper and Jeff, I said, “You two stay inside and don’t even think about doing any heroic stuff like Aria did.
Okay?”
“Yes, sir,” they both said.
Clutching the megaphone, I stepped on the side deck. Rain slammed into me like buckshot, and squinting through the
barrage, I raised the megaphone.
“Attention, the vessel ahead!” My booming voice bounced over the water, echoing into the darkness. “This is Australian
Border Force Security. Adjust your radio frequency to channel 9-Alpha. We can communicate more effectively there and
resolve this situation peacefully. Channel 9-Alpha.”
The two men that had remained at the rear of the boat vanished inside.
Fucking idiots.
“Attention. Attention. This is Australian Border Force.”
Through the torrential rain, a murky figure appeared on the rear deck of the illegal vessel.
Thunder cracked overhead like the black cloud had been hit with a sonic boom.
“You are in quarantined waters,” I said.
Pelting rain mingled with salty sea spray that drifted up from the waves crashing into the hull.
A spark pinged off the railing.
What the hell!
A bullet whizzed past my ear and shattered the glass behind me.
Fuck!
“Get down!” I shouted to my crew. “Take cover!”
 CHAPTER 3

Piper

“Scout!” I screamed for my daughter, desperate to hear her voice.

Her silence drained my sanity.
“Scout!”
I shoved my hair from my face and gasped.
Another wave barreled toward us.
Wind screeched in my ears. Rain peppered my face.
Gripping the wheel, I aimed Dreamcatcher for the wall of water, but she was a slug beneath my feet. Her movements were
slow and wrong. I stared at the wave as it curled up like a striking cobra.
My yacht didn’t ride the wave; she crashed into it.
Crouching down, I held my breath as a gigantic wave smothered us. A force like a massive sledgehammer slammed into my
back, pinning me to the deck. The boat bucked beneath me and jolted sideways so hard I was thrown off my feet. My harness
held me to my yacht, and a giant liquid hand clawed at my body, trying to hurl me out to sea.
Dreamcatcher tilted sideways, taking the assault side on.
My harness yanked around my chest, crushing my breasts.
Don’t capsize. Do not capsize!
The further we leaned, the more I begged, and the ocean roared as if boasting its attack on us.
Dreamcatcher flipped back the other way, righting herself, and the water swished away as if the yacht was a dog shaking
its body.
Gasping for breath and soaked to the bone, I rolled onto my hands and knees. “Scout!”
“Mom! Help! We’re sinking!”
“Shit!” I unclipped from my brace, and my heart hammered in my chest as I staggered down the stairs.
Ankle-deep water sloshed in the cabin.
“Oh, shit!”
Scout clung to one of two overhead safety rails that ran the length of the interior. Terror riddled her expression. “What’s
happening?”
The boat dipped beneath me like an almighty hand from the bottom of the ocean had grabbed us. I crashed forward, landing
on my knees in the water.
Scout screamed as her legs buckled beneath her, and she tumbled backward toward my cabin.
“Scout!” Clutching the tabletop, I tried to stand.
“Mom.” Her voice was shrill. “What’s happening?”
Something powerful slammed into us, throwing me forward. My hip crunched into the kitchen table, and I screamed.
Dreamcatcher released a guttural groan and tilted downward.
“No. No. No.”
All the hanging cups over the sink flew off and shattered against the portside window.
“Scout! Get your life jacket!” I pushed off the table, clutched the overhead rail, and forced my legs to take me forward.
Gripping onto the ladder, I peered toward the internal bow section.
A spout of water curled into the cabin.
Barging through the knee-deep water, I aimed for the computer nook.
A deafening moan roared around us.
I spun to Scout. Her eyes were wide, and her face contorted.
“What was that?” Her voice was frantic as she yanked a life jacket from the nook under the kitchen bench seat.
“I don’t know. But come here.” I waved her toward me.
Dreamcatcher’s bow jolted downward. The angle was wrong.
 Oh, my god.
“We’re sinking,” Scout yelled as she snapped her life jacket clips in place over her chest.
I snatched the microphone off the hook. “Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is the sailing vessel Dreamcatcher. We are taking
on water after colliding with something in the water. We are abandoning ship and seeking emergency assistance. Mayday,
mayday, mayday!”
Staring at the satellite screen, I relayed my coordinates.
“Abandoning ship?” Scout shrieked.
A massive crack exploded from the bow.
I dove for Scout as a wall of water burst through the cabin.
I wrapped my arms around her, and we collapsed in a tangle into the frothing water. Forcing my legs to stand, I fought the
water’s grip, desperately searching for Scout.
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her above the boiling surface.
She came up screaming.
“Hold onto me,” I yelled over the roaring water.
“We’re going to drown.” Her face twisted in pure terror.
Like the anguished cry of a wounded beast, a deafening moan roared around us.
Fear ripped up my spine.
Cold water gushing around us filled the cabin with terrifying speed.
“We have to get out of here!” I said.
Clutching her wrist, I used every ounce of my strength to drag her toward the ladder. As we fought against the surging water
and the brutal angle of the floor, my beautiful cabin became a nightmare. The walls closed in. Icy water sucked us down.
The yacht released a terrifying screech, like it, too, was frightened for its life.
Scout clung to me with both hands. She was like dragging an anchor.
“Come on, Scout. Move!”
A deafening roar filled the air.
Jesus! What the hell is that? A giant wave?
I gave Scout one final yank to the ladder. “Hang on!”
Standing chest-deep in the water, we stared at each other with our arms wrapped around the ladder.
The roar grew louder, and I braced for impact. Staring into Scout’s terrified eyes, I said, “Just hang on, baby. We’ll get
through this.”
Scout’s chin quivered, and she released a heart-wrenching sob.
I wanted to put my arms around her. I wanted this hell to be over.
A thunderous force slammed into Dreamcatcher. Frigid water poured through the hatch above us.
“Hang on!” I yelled as Dreamcatcher tilted over.
Frothing water churned around us.
Our world spun. My legs gave way, and I tumbled toward Scout.
Water inside the cabin rolled from one side to the other, adding to the momentum. Seat cushions, cups, and my computer
mouse flew across the room.
Shockwaves shuddered through the yacht as she kept rolling.
Squeezing my arm around the ladder, I fought to stay upright, but it was impossible. Blind terror gripped me when I
couldn’t work out which way was up.
The momentum stopped. Scout and I scrambled to our feet.
Inky blackness filled the hatch below us. The view out the portholes was exactly the same.
Oh, God, we capsized.
I stared at her wide eyes. “Are you okay?”
Dreamcatcher groaned.
“We’re upside down!” Scout shrieked.
“It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“It’s not fucking okay!” she screamed. Her ragged breaths shot in and out.
Time seemed to slow as I darted my attention around the upturned yacht, waiting for her next move.
Oh, God. This can’t be happening. I failed you, Lewis. This was your dream boat. Dreamcatcher is ruined.
“What do we do?” Scout’s voice drifted to me like she was in a fog.
I stared, stricken, out the window.
“Mom!” she screamed, jerking me from my sinking turmoil. “Please, I need you.”
I blinked at her.
“Mom. What do we do?”
 Standing waist-deep in water, I swallowed a massive lump in my throat. Two things could happen. Either Dreamcatcher
would right herself, or she would sink.
A massive bubble burst around us.
Oh shit! “She’s going to sink.” The words clawed up my throat like razor blades.
“What? No!” Scout’s eyes darted from me to the water, and her expression twisted like she stood in acid.
I wrapped my hand over her wrist. “We have to swim out of here.”
“What? No. I can’t.”
Fear scraped up my spine. “When I say, you’re going to hold your breath and swim.”
“We’re going to die.”
“You are not going to die.”
“That’s what you told Dad.” Her bitter words spat off her tongue.
Surging water boiled up from the hatch. “The cabin is filling, so we can’t swim against that.”
“What?”
“Listen to me.” I dug my nails into her skin. “We are getting out of here. I promise.”
A tear spilled down her cheek, and it took all my might to release my hand from the ladder and wipe that tear away.
“Scout.” Despite the terror raging through me, I forced calm into my voice. “You are not going to die.”
Trembling with absolute fear, she glared at the water frothing up from our feet like we were in boiling water.
I cupped her chin, dragging her gaze to me. “I love you. I have always loved you.”
A sob burst from her throat. “I love you too, Mom. Please, don’t leave me. I need you.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
The water reached my armpits.
“Scout, listen to me.” My voice was so calm, it was like a puppet master had taken over my body. “Once the cabin is nearly
full, the water pressure will ease enough for us to swim out of here. When I say, you’re going to hold your breath and swim out
the hatch. I’m going to be right behind you.”
“Then what?” Her eyes were enormous.
“Then we swim to the surface.” Icy water inched up my breasts.
“What if we’re too deep?”
“We’re not too deep.” I fucking hoped we weren’t. “Our life jackets will drag us to the surface, too.”
The relentless water reached my shoulders. “Get ready, Scout.”
“I’m scared, Mom,” she cried.
“I know, baby. I am too.” I sucked air through the massive knot in my throat.
Water inched up my neck.
Swimming, we rose with the water.
“We’re going to be okay, Scout. Get ready to take a huge breath. You’re a great swimmer. I’ll be right behind you.” My
head hit the top, which was actually the floor of my yacht. “Okay. Suck in a breath! Let’s go.” Staring into her tear-filled eyes,
Scout and I inhaled massive breaths and ducked below the water.
She grabbed the ladder and pulled herself down toward the open hatch. Her wild blonde hair swirled with her jerky
movements.
But she moved too slowly.
Our life jackets were our enemy, pulling us the other way.
Scout’s movements became erratic. Her kicking grew frantic.
Terror gripped me as I fought a crippling image of Scout’s lifeless body floating in the endless sea.
No! We are not fucking dying.
Clenching my jaw, I grabbed the ladder, and using my feet on Scout’s bottom, I pushed her out of the cabin.
My chest burned, desperate for air as I swiveled face down and dragged myself out of the hatch.
Above me, Scout’s arms and legs swam in frantic movements.
As I chased after her, a blaze of light shimmered across the surface, reminding me that a storm was still raging above.
Below me, a mournful groan seeped through the water like Dreamcatcher was crying as her white hull sunk into the inky
depths. Sorrow curled around my heart. Losing Dreamcatcher was like losing Lewis all over again. Our yacht had been our
labor of love. Our dream. Our wonderful future.
Water surged over me, and Scout tumbled in a wave that crashed on the surface.
Terror ripped up my spine as I strained to keep my eyes on her as she rolled over and over like she was a rag doll caught in
a washing machine.
Kicking hard and pulling at the water, I swam for her.
Hang in there, baby. I’m coming.
Scout stopped spinning, and her arms and legs splayed out like she was doing a snow angel.
 Oh, God. No. Don’t you dare take her from me.
Her life jacket dragged her upward, and as I reached her, she blinked at me. Thank Christ.
I clutched her jacket, and kicking like a shark was about to attack, I pulled her upward.
We burst through the surface, and both of us gasped for air.
I reached for her hand. “Are you okay?” I yelled over a crack of thunder that seemed to split my ear drum.
“No.” Her chin quivered. “This is shit, Mom.”
The rain had stopped. Half the sky was covered in clouds, and stars sprinkled the other half like confetti celebrating their
survival of another fierce storm.
A blaze of lightning streaked across the blackness, making Scout’s gorgeous face look pale and drawn.
“I know, sweetheart. But we made it.” I tugged her to my chest.
She clung to me, trembling in my arms. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, pumpkin.” Tears pooled in my eyes as I held onto her with every ounce of strength.
Her whimpers tore my heart out all over again. I wanted to tell her that we would be okay. But she was too smart for
flippant statements like that. She was like her father. She needed concrete data or proof before she believed most things.
Hugging each other, we bobbed on the black water that stretched as far as I could see.
Thankfully, the waves were no longer as fierce as the ones that had crashed into the boat, and each time Scout and I rode
over the top of the swell, I searched the ocean around us.
A bubble burst beside me, and a cry left my throat as I expected the worst. A tan and white striped cushion slid to the
surface, and relief just about turned my bones to rubber.
“You thought that was a shark, didn’t you?” Scout’s tone was loaded with fear.
“No, I just—”
“Mom! Don’t lie to me.”
I heaved a sigh. “Okay, yes. It gave me a fright. Here, you hang onto it.” I pushed the cushion toward her.
As she draped her arms over the fabric, she sniffed. “I’m scared, Mom.”
“I know. Me too.” Fiddling with the top of her life jacket, I turned on the little flashing light on her shoulder strap.
As I turned my personal beacon on, too, I had a sinking feeling that out here on this vast body of water, our tiny glowing
dots were absolutely pointless.
For some stupid reason, I was grateful to still have my shoes on.
Does Scout have shoes on? I couldn’t remember. I had no idea why my shoes made me feel safer. There was nothing safe
about our situation at all.
“Did someone get your mayday call?” Scout’s voice was shrill, unhinged.
“Yes, of course they did.”
“But you don’t know for sure. Do you?”
“I know that mayday distress calls are designed to be heard. Someone will come for us.”
“But what if they don’t?”
“They will,” I said with more conviction than I felt.
We rode up and over swell after swell.
Lightning lit up the sky like the entire cloud was one giant fluorescent bulb.
About fifty feet away, a large rectangle bobbed on the surface.
I glared at it.
“What’s wrong?” Scout kicked to turn around and clung to my shoulder, nearly dunking me. “Is it a shark?”
“No. No, sorry. I just saw something on the surface. Over there.” I pointed to where I’d seen it.
“Was it part of our boat?”
“I’m not sure.” Peering across the black water, we both faced the same way as I waited for another streak of lightning.
Blinding brilliance lit the cloud, casting eerie shadows across the tumultuous sea.
“There.” I pointed. “I think it’s a shipping container. Come on.”
We breast stroked toward the giant block, staying so close to each other that our legs brushed together.
“Is that what we crashed into?” Scout asked.
“I’d say so.”
Lightning rippled across the sky, and each flash revealed the object more clearly. The container’s rear end was in the air,
with at least six feet of it bobbing above the surface. Air trapped inside would be keeping the heavy metal afloat.
Reaching the container, we tried to grasp its rough surface, but it was impossible to get a purchase on the rusted metal.
Using the next wave, I tried to reach the top of the container to grab on, but it was too high. Rough metal scraped across my
palms as I splashed back down.
The ocean's relentless swell alternated between pulling us away from the container and slamming our battered bodies into
the coarse surface.
 “We need to get on top of this thing,” I said, “and out of the water.”
“How?”
“I’ll lift you up, okay?”
She nodded.
I sank down, wrapped my arm around her legs, and used my momentum to lift her up. We both crashed into the container,
and I splashed beneath the water. Spluttering, I rose to the surface.
“Bloody hell, Mom!” Sobbing, she showed me her hands. “I’m covered in cuts.”
“Oh, pumpkin, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t call me that.” She slapped the water.
Wiping wet hair from my face, I said, “But that’s what your dad called you.”
“Exactly. He did. Now that he’s dead, so is pumpkin.”
As my heart shattered in half, a blaze of lightning ripped across the night sky as if Mother Nature was punishing me, too.
I was too exhausted to respond.
And I had much worse problems to worry about.
Like us drowning. Or dying of dehydration.
Or worse still . . . being attacked by sharks.
 CHAPTER 4

Ryder

As bullets punched into the outside of the bridge, I ducked down behind the computer banks with Whisper and Jeff.
“Fucking hell,” I yelled over a rumble of thunder that was right above us.
Rain sleeted in through the shattered window, wetting the computers and adding to the chaos.
“What do we do, sir?” Whisper asked.
“Just keep your head down,” I said. “Both of you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stay here.” Crouching low, I used the cover of the computer consoles to inch around the other side and waited for a break
in the gunfire to grab the microphone. But when the pause didn’t come, I clenched my jaw, lunged for the microphone, and
slumped to the ground.
“Command. This is Captain Ryder Westwood on Coral Guardian. Do you read? Over.”
Bullets shot through the shattered window and hit Jeff’s coffee mug, showering china shards all over me. A massive wave
slammed into the side of our boat, smothering the entire front windshield in boiling whitewater.
Anticipating when that wave would crash into their boat and suppress the gunfire, I stood with my binoculars. On the other
boat, four men were leaning over the back when the wave smashed into them. By the way they hadn’t braced for it, my guess
was they didn’t see it coming. Stupid fuckers were probably washed overboard.
“Command to Coral Guardian, we read you. Over.”
I ducked down again and triggered the microphone. “We are taking automatic gunfire from an illegal vessel. Requesting
immediate assistance and authorization to use lethal force. Over.”
“Understood. Please hold the line. Over.”
Coral Guardian was the baby of Queensland’s Border Patrol fleet, and we had limited weaponry on board. Each of us had
a handgun. We had tear gas, water cannons, and pump-action shotguns that fired rubber bullets.
Our other Border Force patrol boat, Viking, was equipped with the serious weaponry, but that vessel and crew were
enroute to Townsville, where a boatload of illegal immigrants had been spotted by Ladybeetle, the Border Force plane that
patrolled our northern waters.
Out the shattered window, lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the remaining splinters of glass like the windows
were trimmed with razor wire.
Bullets thumped into the aluminum railing outside.
Christ! How much ammunition do they have?
Is their gunfire a decoy to get the divers back on board?
A spray of bullets carved into the computer console. Whisper screamed.
“Are you okay?” I yelled. “Whisper. Jeff. Talk to me.”
“We’re here,” Jeff said. “That was fucking close.”
We have to get the fuck out of here.
Inching along the computer panel, I hit the button to pull up anchor.
A barrage of gunfire punched holes into the equipment on the bridge. “Fuck!”
The safe containing the guns was at the opposite end of the bridge. Getting to it put me in line with the gunfire.
Keeping my head low, I shuffled along the bridge and started the engines.
“What do you want me to do, sir?” Jeff was on his hands and knees at the other end of the computer consoles.
“Get back and stay down!”
“Let me help you, sir,” Jeff yelled.
I started the engines, and without waiting for the anchor to lock into position, I pushed the throttles forward.
“Coral Guardian.” The microphone crackled. “You have authorization to use force. However, backup is a no-go. I repeat,
we do not have available backup. Over.”
 I had already figured as much. The electrical storm would ground all air support, and our only other boat was in the dry
dock, undergoing its annual barnacle removal.
That meant Whisper, Jeff, and I were on our own.
“Roger that. Coral Guardian, over and out.” I tossed the microphone to the floor, and it bounced on the bungee twice before
it hit the counter and stopped.
A wave crashed over our bow, and we dipped forward under the weight of the water.
Clutching the binoculars, I inched toward the window, keeping cover. Rain pounded my back as I waited for a pause in the
gunfire. The thumping staccato confirmed the assholes were using automatic weapons. It was another crime to add to their
growing list. Automatic weapons were illegal in Australia.
As I calculated my next move, another wave slammed into us. This one was bigger than the last, and Coral Guardian
groaned as if letting us know she was not happy about being slapped with the wall of water. Our twenty-year-old patrol boat
tilted. Pens, a clipboard, and Whisper’s coffee mug went flying and crashed against the wall.
A bullet ricocheted off the window trimming, spraying metal splinters over me. “Fuck.” Jerking my head down, I wiped
blood from my forearm.
“You right, boss?” Jeff yelled.
“Yeah. These assholes are gonna pay,” I said.
“What do we do?” he asked.
Shielding myself against the side wall, I studied the illegal vessel. Water boiled at the back of the boat. They’d started their
engines.
“They’re making a runner,” I said.
The gunfire didn’t stop.
Reaching across the computer panels, I hit the button to kill all the lights, plunging us into blackness.
Whisper shrieked.
“It’s okay. I did that. That will make it harder for those fuckers to see us.”
Rain beat against the front windshield like a relentless drum.
In a flash of lightning, Jeff appeared at the end of the consoles. “What's the plan, sir?”
Another monstrous wave pounded our boat, and I gripped a cupboard handle to stop myself from going ass over. The
illegal vessel's relentless gunfire continued, punctuated by the bullets thumping into our patrol boat, metal against metal.
“We’ll come around behind those bastards.”
We didn’t have the manpower or weaponry to take them out. The best we could do was get intel on their boat.
“Roger that.”
As Coral Guardian motored away from the other boat, the bullets shredding our vessel petered out. Lightning lit up the
cloud above like it had swallowed the moon, and I used the glow to peer at the boat. They were yet to get going.
Thunder boomed overhead, just about cracking my head in two.
“What’s taking them so long to move?” Jeff was at my side.
“Keep your head down,” I hissed at him.
“Do you think they found something on Chui’s yacht?” he asked from his lowered position.
“I don’t know. Maybe those divers are trying to wait out their decompression times.”
My anchor light finally registered green, and I pushed the throttle higher, increasing the distance between us and the other
boat.
Whisper joined us. “Well, that was a first.”
Crazy woman didn’t look as scared as she should be.
Jeff stood. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re outnumbered and outgunned. Best we can do is gather intel and hopefully still get these bastards.”
Wind shrieked through the broken window as if protesting the damage. Rain slapped against the windshield, and the wipers
swished the barrage away with noisy screeches, reminding me that maintenance still hadn’t replaced the rubber. But my boat
would need more than just a few bits of rubber now.
“Note in the logbook our plan to approach the suspect vessel from behind to gather intel,” I told Whisper.
“Yes, sir.”
“Jeff, take over here. Head east for a couple of minutes, then turn around and chase after them.” I grabbed my binoculars.
“I’ll do a sweep of the outside and see what damage we have.”
“I’ll come with you, sir.” Whisper strode to my side.
Rain pelted my head and shoulders as I stepped outside the bridge. The entire side looked like a slab of Swiss cheese.
Whisper whistled. “Holy hell. They made a mess.”
“Yeah. We can probably add attempted murder to their list of crimes.”
Coral Guardian was going to take a hell of a lot of time to repair this damage. Hopefully, that didn’t mean I would be
grounded, too.
The ocean swirled on my right-hand side as if it, too, was pissed off by the chaos.
Two more windows had been shattered. The emergency fire kit was hanging by just one corner, and several wire railings
were severed.
We climbed to the top deck, and as Jeff turned the Coral Guardian around, the boat shifted beneath our feet. Twin forks of
lightning carved through the sky. Through my binoculars, I used the light to search for the other vessel. I could just make out
their shape through the sleeting rain, but it looked like they still hadn’t moved.
Whisper stood at the water cannon, shaking her head. “Crikey, look what they did to this.”
The barrel of the weapon had just about sheared off.
“Son of a bitch! They must have armor-piercing bullets.”
“Jesus. Who are they?” Whisper swept wet hair from her forehead.
“I don’t know, but I bet they’re up to their necks in the same illegal bullshit that fucker Chui was.”
“I thought his death would be the end of those crimes,” she said.
I huffed. “That would be nice, but doubtful.”
She cocked her head. “Cryptic. What do you mean?”
Peering through my binoculars, I studied the boat we were closing in on. “Chui’s business dealings were illegal but also
highly lucrative. Someone will always want to take over the reins when that kind of money is involved.”
“Well, that sucks.”
I lowered the binoculars. “Yep. Chances are, there’s already a war going on over who takes control of that empire.”
A thunderclap boomed overhead.
“Crikey.” Whisper jerked down. “That was close.”
“Let’s get back to the bridge.” I indicated for her to lead the way.
Following Whisper, I clutched the wet railing to navigate the steps and studied the distant boat. Were the men on that boat
involved with Chui?
And if so, what were they doing on his sunken yacht?
Several people had made legal explorations of that wreck, and as far as I was aware, other than Chui’s body being
removed, nobody had found anything. Not even Aria.
At the bottom of the stairs, I strode to the bow and raised the binoculars.
“See anything?” Whisper asked from my side.
A man walked onto the back deck of the enemy vessel. He gripped a long tube on his shoulder. At the rear railing, he
adjusted the angle of the tube and lowered his head.
A bolt of fear raced through me.
“Fuck. He’s got an RPG. Tell Jeff to turn around,” I yelled at Whisper.
She took off like a gazelle.
Every beat of my heart was like thunder booming in my chest. The warhead at the end of that RPG was a powerful anti-
armor weapon capable of inflicting significant damage to Coral Guardian.
Beneath my feet, the boat dipped, confirming Jeff made the evasive maneuver.
The asshole on the enemy boat shifted the RPG aim our way. Maybe he heard our engines, but he must not be able to see us
because he didn’t fire the shoulder-powered rocket launcher. As Jeff’s new course steered us away from that boat, I studied the
vessel, taking in every detail and locking it into my memory. I didn’t see the boat’s name, but I had enough visual to know I’d
never seen it before. Rosebud Marina had one hundred and seventy boat berths, but that boat wasn’t a regular at any of them.
The enemy boat was significantly larger than the Coral Guardian. I guessed it to be about a hundred feet in length, so it
wasn’t a typical recreational boat.
Whoever owned that vessel had some money.
Fucker was probably already involved in the illegal drug trade and obviously up to their eyeballs in illicit weapons.
The vessel boasted a pair of powerful marine diesel engines with an estimated combined output of about four thousand
horsepower and designed for high-speed maneuverability. I would bet my brand-new Jeep that the enemy vessel would carve
through treacherous waters with ease and easily outrun us if we got into a dogfight.
With such robust engine capacity, that boat could cover a considerable distance at sea on one full tank of fuel. I wouldn’t be
surprised if it could travel up to two thousand nautical miles before requiring refueling or resupply. And that meant those
bastards could have come from any one of the neighboring islands.
It also meant they could disappear, and we would have no hope of finding them.
The man on the back raised the barrel of the RPG.
My heart boomed in my chest, and I prayed the scrawny bastard didn’t get trigger-happy.
“Sir.” Whisper’s shrill voice reached me.
I spun to her. “What is it?”
 “A mayday call, sir. A sailing yacht taking on water.”
“Did they give coordinates?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then tell Jeff to change course for that vessel.”
“Copy that.” She sprinted away.
I peered back at the man, who still had the rocket launcher aimed toward Coral Guardian. Three other men had joined his
side. Their stance suggested they were peering through binoculars. However, the teeming rain and our lack of lighting made us
a ghost.
I can see you, you fuckers. You got away this time, but I will get you—no matter what it takes.
When the distance between us made visibility impossible, I returned to the bridge. “What’s the status?”
“You want the good news or bad news?” Whisper’s expression was grim.
I glared at her.
“Okay, the good news is the satellite image confirms the storm has nearly passed overhead.”
“And . . .?” A sinking feeling rolled in my stomach.
“Bad news is they shot out our radar, and our comms are compromised.”
I cocked my head. “I thought you heard a mayday call?”
“Yes,” Jeff said. “We can hear the radio, but I can’t relay a message. I tried to tell command that we’d attend to the distress
call, but I can’t tell if it’s working.”
“Ah, for fuck’s sake. Anything else?”
“They shattered my favorite coffee mug.” Jeff groaned.
Whisper pulled an exaggerated sad face. “Aw, I’ll get you a new one.”
The fuel gauge was also shattered.
“How much fuel did we have?” I asked.
“We had three-quarters of a tank when we started our shift,” Jeff said.
I checked the clock. That was four hours ago. Riding this storm would chew through the juice.
“I hope this doesn’t come out of my pay.” Whisper poked her finger into a bullet hole in a monitor.
“Nobody is docking your pay,” I said. “Tell me about this mayday call.”
“It was a vessel named Dreamcatcher. They were taking on water after colliding with something. They said they were
abandoning ship.”
“Shit. How many people?”
“She didn’t say, sir.”
“A woman?” I turned to Whisper. “What do we know about Dreamcatcher?”
She shrugged. “The AIS was also shot to shit.”
“Damn it.” Without the Automatic Identification System, which broadcasted information such as the vessel's name, type,
position, course, speed, and other important data, we had no idea what we were looking for.
“How far away are we from the last known coordinates?” I asked.
“About forty minutes, sir. But . . .” Jeff’s brows drilled together. “We lost sat nav, too, so we’re doing this old school.”
I groaned. “Okay, pull out the nautical charts, Whisper.”
I grabbed the binoculars and studied the horizon for the shipping lane in the distance. The swell was too high, blocking my
view.
I lowered my binoculars. “Did the woman on Dreamcatcher say she was abandoning ship or that it was an option?”
“She said they were abandoning ship,” Jeff said.
“How long ago was that?”
Jeff checked his watch. “Eleven minutes ago.”
Whisper swept broken glass off the computer console onto the floor and spread out the charts.
“This is going to test your training,” I said to her.
She winked at me. “No, it won’t.”
I huffed and returned my gaze out the window.
If the people on Dreamcatcher did abandon ship, I hoped they were wearing life jackets. It may be a long time before we
reach them, provided we don’t run out of fuel.
Or run into those assholes again.
 CHAPTER 5

Piper

A wave picked me up, but I was so exhausted I couldn’t fight the force as my back slammed into the rough shipping container.
My life jacket saved my upper body, but the rusted metal sliced into the back of my arms and legs.
The liquid battering ram released us, and as Scout cried, my heart wept for her.
“Are you okay?” The second the question left my lips, I wanted to retract it.
“No, Mom. I’m not. What are we doing?” She swept her hand over her blonde hair, leaving a red streak of blood across her
head.
Distant flashes of lightning illuminated the churning sea, and the metal container groaned as it bobbed in the waves. The top
was too high for us to grab, and the hope of refuge was like a cruel temptation. Safety from the relentless ocean was six feet
away. But reaching it was impossible. I’d tried lifting Scout up a dozen times, but each failed attempt added more wounds to
our battered bodies.
Salt water stung the dozens of tiny cuts over my arms and legs, my tongue was so dry I couldn’t produce saliva, and my
eyes were so sore, I imagined they were also bleeding.
Pounding waves threatened to pull us both down into the abyss, but thankfully, our life jackets kept us from drowning.
Amid the chaos of the crashing waves, a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated our watery hell. How many hours had we
been in the water? Two? Six? I searched the horizon, begging for a glimmer of sunrise, but the blackness of night stretched as
far as I could see.
Another wave slammed me into the metal, and blazing pain streaked across my elbow as a second wave slapped my face,
stinging my eyes and filling my mouth with bitter water.
“Scout, honey. We have to get onto this container.” I reached for her again.
Tears filled her eyes with a potent mix of anger and pain as she shoved my hands away.
“We need to get out of this water.” My exhaustion made my words a breathless staccato.
“I know! But how?” Her voice was raw with panic and anger.
The cloud above blazed with a lightning strike, and as the jagged forks lit the sky, I scanned the container desperate for
something to grip onto. A small cavity in the top corner of the container was promising. The opening was just large enough to
fit my hand. Reaching it, though, was the problem.
Driven by a spike of determination, I searched for an oncoming wave.
The sky lit up, and the next wave was right there. With no time to prepare, I sucked in a breath, and kicking like fury, I rode
up the swell. As my body slammed into the container, I latched my fingers onto the coarse edge of the corner.
Pain surged through my hand, but I refused to let go. Holding my face away from the metal, I yelled, “Scout. Climb up my
body.”
“What?”
“Do it. I can’t hang on for long.”
“Jesus.” She gripped my shoulders.
“Now!”
My water-softened skin rubbed against the jagged metal, and I pictured blood pouring from fresh cuts.
Scout kicked my bottom, kneed my back.
Jagged metal teeth clawed at my fingers, but I fought the pain by clenching my jaw.
Scout put her foot on my left shoulder, and a scream burst from my throat as her full weight was held by just my fingers.
Then she was gone.
I let go, splashing back into the water, gasping for breath.
“Mom!” Her frantic scream reached me from above.
My body was like a lump of fat, unstable and useless. I couldn’t move. My heart thundered, my limbs throbbed, and my
flesh stung.
 A wave slapped my face, shooting water up my nose. I coughed up the bitter liquid.
“Mom!”
Treading water, I spun to her desperate cry. She was on her hands and knees on top of the container. She seemed so frail.
So scared. Yet relief washed through me. My baby was safe.
Exhaustion was a parasite, and with every wave I fought against, my determination leached out a little more.
When my limbs were too weak to fight the relentless ocean anymore, I hooked my arms into the straps on my life jacket and
tilted my head back. My neck groaned as I stared at the sky, which was now only a quarter covered in clouds. The remaining
three quarters were inky blackness dotted with a million stars. The moon made its appearance again from above the storm
clouds.
“Mom!” Scout’s terrified scream yanked me from my mental abyss.
I bolted upright.
“Shark!” She pointed to my right.
My heart exploded as a black fin sliced through the water ten feet away.
“Mom! Swim!”
Fighting the panic blazing through me, I calmly breast-stroked to the container.
Don’t splash. Don’t splash.
Repeating the mantra, I shared my gaze between the shark’s blade and my daughter’s frantic movements. My heart boomed
in my ears, but my arms were like lead.
Scout leaned over the side of the container. “Grab my hand!”
Fear ripped through me as horrific questions carved through my brain.
What if I drag her off the container?
What if she sees that shark attack me?
The shark disappeared around the container.
“Mom! Grab my hand.”
“No! I’ll pull you off,” I screamed.” Get back from the edge.”
Why is this happening? We are good people. We didn’t deserve this. We have already been through hell.
“Mom. It’s coming.”
The shark’s fin glided through the water like a machete. A wave picked me up and as it slapped me into the metal, I latched
my fingers into the cavity.
Scout clutched the shoulder straps of my life jacket.
“Let me go!” I yelled.
“Come on, Mom, you can do it.” Scout’s screams shredded my sanity.
Every gasp of breath was a battle between exhaustion and fear.
“Mom. Please . . . I need you.” A sob burst from her throat. “I can’t lose you too.”
Her beautiful face was an angel, hovering above me. Her eyes were Lewis’s eyes, filled with so much love I couldn’t
breathe.
“Mom, did you hear me? I need you. And I love you. Now get your fucking ass up here.”
My heart swelled to bursting. That was exactly what Lewis would say.
“It’s coming!” She stared, wide-eyed, over my shoulder.
Clenching my jaw, I swung my leg up and hooked my shoe on the edge of the container. “Grab my leg!”
Scout wrapped her hands around my ankle and dragged me upward. My fingers ached, my arms trembled, but inch by
agonizing inch, I forced my body up the rusted wall.
With one last scream of fury and determination, I curled my body over the edge. We collapsed in a heap, gasping and
trembling and crying.
“Thank you, baby.” I squeezed her to my chest. “You saved me.”
Scout’s shoulders heaved as she sobbed. She seemed so frail in my arms.
My entire body ached, but my heart filled with hope.
Above us, the crescent moon had slipped out from behind the cloud and the banana-shaped glow was a welcome sight. At
least we didn’t have the storm to contend with.
I curled my hand over her back. “Are you okay?”
She eased back, wiping her eyes. “I guess so.”
“Good. We’ll be okay.”
The container swayed beneath us, riding a wave. Groaning, I sat up and scanned the ocean. The moon bounced off the
undulating water, casting light and shadow with equal measure.
“There it is.” Scout pointed to the black fin slicing through the surface.
“Shit, there’s another one.” I pointed to a second larger fin ahead of the first.
 “Jesus. They’re circling us.”
“We’re safe up here.” Waves lapped against the side of the container, and the metal beneath us keeled side to side.
I’d seen my share of objects drifting in the ocean: Logs, slabs of foam, surfboards, a large icebox. Although I’d heard about
shipping containers falling off the backs of freighters, I’d never encountered one.
Scout studied her hands.
“I’m sorry.” I draped my fingers over her wrist.
“What for exactly? Losing everything I ever owned? Dragging me away from my life?”
“I’m sorry that you have cuts on your hands.”
“Yeah. That’s great. I feel much better now.”
“Scout, do you think I knew this would happen? I’ve lost everything too. Including the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my
life with. I miss him so bad; my heart is cracked in two. So what the hell do you want from me?” I clamped my jaw before I
said something I couldn’t come back from, and my shoulders sagged. The tiny breakthrough I’d thought we’d had moments ago
was obliterated in seconds.
“Nothing! I don’t want anything. Okay!”
“Good. Because I literally have nothing left but you, Scout.” My vision blurred with tears of pain and frustration as I fought
to contain my emotions.
“And whose fault is that? Huh?” She waggled her head like I was a criminal.
“Yep. You’re right. Everything that’s happened to us is my fault. Blame me. I don’t care.”
“That’s right. You don’t care. If you did, you wouldn’t have forced me on this stupid trip.”
“I had to.”
“No, you didn’t.” She stood and backed away from me.
“Scout. Sit down.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t fall off.”
“I’m not going—”
“Scout! Sit down!” I yelled so loud my throat burned.
Glaring at me, she lowered down and sat cross-legged.
Damn it. She’s not wearing shoes.
Her feet would be covered in cuts, too. I would give her my sneakers, but Scout’s feet were already two sizes bigger than
mine.
As we rode atop the unforgiving surface, an eerie stillness encased us. The storm had abated, but lightning still crackled in
the distance. Moonlight cast eerie shadows across the rolling swell, and the breeze was barely a whisper. Water softly slapped
against the metal, and as the container shifted beneath us, its sorrowful groans reminded me of the noises of despair Lewis had
made in the last couple of weeks of his life.
Willing my brain not to go back to those horrific days, I turned my palms over. Tiny nicks shredded my skin like I’d
wrestled with a cactus.
Dark blood staining the creases of my wrists made it look like I’d attempted suicide.
I released a slow, steady breath, trying to calm the emotions swirling through me.
“What are we going to do now, Mom?” Scout’s exasperated tone was shrouded in anger. Her wet clothes clung to her body,
showing off her womanly curves that gave her the physique of a twenty-year-old. Her height added to her maturity. But her
youthful vulnerability showed in her eyes. She was still my little girl.
“Scout, honey. I’m—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Scout?” I attempted a joke.
“Honey. Don’t call me honey, or pumpkin, or sweetie, or any other stupid name.”
Groaning, I flopped back onto the metal. A satellite twinkled above.
If anyone can see me, please send help before my daughter kills me.
As my body throbbed, and my mind crashed from one shocking event from the last two years to the next, a knot wedged so
big in my throat I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fight the tears anymore and covering my face with my bloody hands, my shoulders
heaved back and forward as I cried.
Scout inched toward me and fell forward over my chest. “Don’t cry Mom. We’ve got this far. We’ll be okay.”
Barely able to breathe, I curled my hand over her back and determined to force down the sorrow threatening to overwhelm
me, I sucked air through my nose. A stench invaded my nostrils.
I sniffed. “What’s that smell?”
Scout eased back and we sat up.
I peered over the sides, expecting to see a half-eaten whale carcass. But there was nothing.
 “Jesus. It stinks,” Scout said, pinching her nose.
Many years ago, while hiking through a national park, Lewis and I found a dead kangaroo. Its body was bloated and
grotesque. The stench was so vile I’d thrown up.
The smell clogging the air around me was similar.
I stared at the container beneath my feet.
Oh my god, is the smell coming from in there?
 CHAPTER 6

Piper

I pinched my nose, trying but failing to escape the nauseating stench of decay wafting from the container beneath my feet.
“What’s that smell, Mom?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Is it dead bodies?”
“Scout! Please? I don’t know what the smell is. How could I?”
She folded her arms. “Okay, then, guess.”
Digging into the last of my sanity reserves, I said, “It could be grain or flour that’s gone moldy. Or the container could be
filled with eggs that have gone rotten.”
I hated the glow from the moon. I didn’t want to see Scout’s fear. Or the ocean that stretched for miles around us. Or the
sharks that continued to circle like vultures waiting for our demise.
I wanted this night to end. And my never-ending hell. But I had to keep going.
It wasn’t just the sharks that filled me with dread. The stench wafting from the metal tomb did, too.
Was that smell attracting the sharks?
I couldn’t shake the image of lifeless bodies floating around inside the metal cube under my feet.
My poor daughter had already endured so much. Fear for her sanity was a relentless ache, mirroring the rolling swell that
slapped against our metal island over and over.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly.
It felt like an eternity since I’d sent that mayday call, and with every passing minute, my desperation deepened. What if my
distress call was unsuccessful?
We were at the mercy of the sea.
How far have we drifted from the coordinates I gave?
What if we’re stuck on this thing for days?
Weeks?
“I’m hungry, Mom.” Scout's voice, soft and trembling, broke the heavy silence.
She looked so frail and innocent. My sweet daughter seemed to be back.
My heart ached because there was nothing I could do to ease her hunger.
“I know, sweet—Just a little longer. Someone will come for us.” I shuffled to her and sat cross-legged. “Come here. Rest
your head in my lap and try to sleep.”
To my surprise, she didn’t argue. Instead, she adjusted her position so she could lay on her side facing away from me, with
her head on my thigh.
The storm flashed in the distance.
The dark fins of five sharks sliced through the black liquid around us.
Scout shivered.
“Are you cold?”
She nodded, and I rubbed my hand up her arm, attempting to give her warmth as my bloody palms left streaks of red over
her pale skin.
Silence settled over us.
The vile odor wafted in the air.
Scout’s breathing changed to slow and steady. Grateful that her sleep would take her from all this horror, I turned my mind
to what we could do next.
Was there anything?
As the moon crossed in a slow, steady arc overhead, and the sharks continued to circle around us, I gave up. I had
absolutely no idea what to do.
 Lewis would have known what to do. He was my anchor.
Without him, I drifted aimlessly through life.
I sucked in a rancid breath, and unable to hold back my emotions, I cried. Trying to be silent increased the knot in my
throat, and I could barely breathe. Staring up at the stars with my blurry vision, I begged for divine guidance.
“Mom.”
I jerked. “I thought you were asleep.”
I wiped tears from my cheeks.
“Not yet.”
“Are you o—” I didn’t finish my stupid question.
She released a big sigh. “You can call me pumpkin if you like, Mom.”
My heart melted. Tears swam across my eyes as I rubbed my hand along her arm. “No. I agree with you. Pumpkin was
something special between you and your father. I need a special name for you, too.”
She nodded. “Okay, but nothing stupid.”
Knowing my luck, I would ruin this opportunity, so I said, “Well, maybe we can decide together.”
Scout reached for my hand, and as I pressed our palms together, I looked up at the stars and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
Way too soon, Scout wriggled her grip from mine and tucked her hand under her cheek. “I can’t think of a nickname. Can
you?”
“Well, what about possum?” I suggested.
“Possum?” She scrunched her nose.
“Yes. Possums are adventurous, cheeky, and bold. And they’re fun and cute.”
Sighing, she adjusted her position on my lap. “Maybe.”
As I tried to think of an alternative, her soft breathing returned. As the minutes ticked on, my moment of elation with my
grief-stricken daughter ebbed away and was replaced with the brutal reality of our situation.
The rusty state of the metal container and the stench emanating from the rotting contents inside confirmed it had been lost at
sea for a long time.
If nobody heard my distress call, then we, too, could be lost on this vast ocean for days.
Or weeks. Forever.
Fear clung to me like a shadow.
We had no shelter, and come sunrise, we would burn to a crisp. My mouth was already as dry as sand, and without water,
we wouldn’t survive very long.
Staring at a twinkling satellite, I did something I hadn’t done since Lewis was diagnosed . . . I prayed.
With Scout asleep in my lap, I couldn’t move, and my aching back added to all the other pains and stings across my battered
body.
As the hours stretched into a seemingly endless night, I clung to the hope that we would be rescued. But my mind was like a
monster stomping on every positive thought I had, replacing each idea with an equally distressing one.
Stars that covered the sky in millions of twinkling dots usually gave me a sense of peace and a crazy notion that everything
would be okay. But those distant planets also magnified our isolation. It was a stark reminder that we were in the middle of the
ocean.
The shark fin numbers peaked at seven, but as the hours ticked away, they dropped back to three.
Before we’d left Perth to travel around Australia, I had sold our house. The decision had been a brutal one, but I couldn’t
live in the place where every memory of Lewis was plagued with an equally harrowing one. We’d built that home together and
poured our hearts into every decision regarding the design and decorations. Lewis had died in our bed, on the mattress that
we’d taken months to choose. I never slept in that bed again. I couldn’t, not when just the sight of it cracked my heart in two. I
didn’t want to forget him or get over him, but I needed to move forward. So did Scout.
In the weeks prior to putting our home on the market, I had sold or gifted to charity nearly everything we owned. The items
we wanted to keep were all transferred into Dreamcatcher.
Our beautiful yacht was my last connection to Lewis.
Now, our dream project was reduced to sodden wreckage on the bottom of the ocean.
I literally had nothing.
A crisp breeze swirled around us like a ghost.
Scout shivered, and I did, too.
I’m wrong. I have Scout.
She’s my connection to Lewis.
She’s my everything.
I’m going to make sure we live.
Not just live. Scout and I are going to have a life.
 Scout smacked her lips together, and groaning, she sat up.
I didn’t ask if she was okay. Glow from the constellation above us was sufficient to know that she wasn’t.
“I’m hungry.” Her expression was so sad.
I stretched my back, trying to shift the knot that ran from the base of my spine to my neck. Scout raised her arms over her
head and did some kind of pretzel move.
“Mom, does this mean we can go home now?”
“Home?” Had she forgotten that I’d sold our house? “Um, we can’t go back to our home, remember?”
She cocked her head and her green eyes darkened like she was trying to piece that information into a life-and-death puzzle.
“So, we don’t have a home and we don’t have our yacht. We don’t have anything.”
“We have each other?”
Her shoulders sagged. “Great.”
I shuffled to her and put my arm around her back, tugging her to my side. “We’ll be okay.”
Scout scrunched her nose. “No, Mom, we won’t be. I want to go home.”
My chest sagged. “We can’t—”
“Back to Perth. I can live with my friend Christa.”
I frowned. “But you hate Christa.”
“No, I don’t,” she snapped, pulling away from me.
“Scout. You told me you hated Christa.”
“I did not!”
Heaving a breath, I turned to the horizon where a minuscule glow of orange colored the scenery. Sunrise was finally on its
way.
The ocean was nearly flat, and there was no breeze. Although that stopped the waves from rocking the container, the lack of
wind meant the foul stench hovered around us.
Oh, God. How will it be in the middle of the day?
I kneeled and stretched from side to side. Every muscle in my body protested at the movement. The damn sharks still
carved through the water in never-ending circles.
Whatever was in this container kept them interested. Or maybe it was our blood they were after.
“You don’t have to go home, but I am,” Scout blurted.
I didn’t answer. Last thing I needed was another argument with my daughter.
Peering at the break of dawn as the container dipped side to side, I scanned the horizon, searching for signs of life.
There was nothing.
I tugged my band from my hair and drove my fingers through the messy knots. My hair felt disgusting. My skin felt raw and
was crusty with salt and sea spray. The lifejacket was hot and restrictive, and I loosened the straps around my waist a fraction.
But I had no intention of taking it off, no matter how annoying it was.
I ran my tongue over my dry lips and snagged on a piece of flaky skin. I would give anything for my lip balm right now.
Orange hues announcing sunrise glistened off the water in beautiful streaks of citrus colors. Dawn was usually my favorite
time of day. I nearly always rose before the sun, and since Lewis had passed away, sunrise was my constant reminder that life
went on. Each morning brought hope for a lovely day. I had a dreadful feeling that today was going to test my positive focus.
“I have to go to the toilet.” Scout groaned.
Ah, jeez.
“Okay. You’ll have to pee over the side.”
“Fucking hell!” Scout screamed so loud the tendons in her neck should have snapped.
I blinked at her. “Feel better now?”
“Nope!”
I chuckled, and to my surprise, Scout giggled, too.
Placing my hand on her shoulder, I said, “I’ll help you.”
As we shifted to the edge of the container, a tiny white blob on the horizon caught my eye. I squinted at it. “Look.” I
pointed. “You see that?”
“Oh, my god. It’s a boat.”
Moving back from the edge, we waved our arms over our heads.
“Help!” I screamed, even though they couldn’t possibly hear me.
“Help!” Scout yelled, too.
As we waved our arms and yelled across the ocean, the tiny white blob morphed into the shape of a boat.
Scout and I continued waving and cheering.
Finally, the boat flashed a light at us.
“Yes! We’re saved.” I wrapped my arms around Scout and squeezed.
 “Don’t squeeze too hard, Mom. I have to pee.”
I burst out laughing, and she laughed with me.
She pulled back from me. “Your lip is bleeding.”
“Oh.” I wiped my hand over my mouth and licked the bitter tang away with my tongue. “We must look like crap.” I smiled
at her.
“You don’t. I probably do.”
I scooped her blonde hair away from her forehead. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right!”
I leveled my gaze at her. “Scout. You are beautiful. You always have been. That is my honest truth.”
She huffed and pierced me with her stunning eyes.
Turning my attention back to the boat, my mind swirled with a mixture of relief and anxiety.
We were officially homeless. Our only possessions were the clothes we wore.
And I had absolutely no idea what Scout and I would do next.
 CHAPTER 7

Ryder

“Holy shit!” Whisper blurted. “Are they on a shipping container?”

“Looks like it,” I said, lowering my binoculars.
“Christ, that’s bloody lucky.” Whisper whistled.
“Sure is.” I checked my watch. The two souls clinging to the top of the shipping container in the distance abandoned ship
nine hours ago. They were lucky to be alive. “They’re going to be hungry and thirsty.”
“Maybe now we can have your surprise.” Whisper wiggled her dark brows at me.
I rolled my eyes. Their surprise was likely to be the birthday cake in the fridge, making it the worst-kept secret.
“Let’s get them on board first. And with the sailing regatta planned for this weekend, we need to get that shipping container
out of the water.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and speed-dialed command. “Hello, Grace, it’s Ryder Westwood from
Coral Guardian.”
“Hey, Captain, I hear you had a rough night. Any news?”
“Yes, we have just made visual contact of two women standing on a shipping container.”
“Wow,” Grace said. “Okay, I’ll let Levi at Air Sea Rescue know that he’s no longer required.”
“Good. And text me the number for Indiana Smith. I’ll need her to tow this shipping container to shore.”
“Okey dokey. I’ll send that through in a minute.”
“Thanks. I’ll ring you back soon.”
“Roger that, over and out.” Grace ended the call.
I raised my binoculars again. The two women had stopped madly waving their arms and were slumped together as if they
were barely holding each other up.
“Whisper, head out the front and give them a wave,” I said.
“Sure.” Whisper skipped out the door and reappeared at the bow through our front windshield, waving her hands.
I raised my binoculars again. Both women had blood over their limbs and faces. “Hey, Jeff, looks like they’ve been through
the wars. Get the first aid kit ready.”
“Roger that.” He strode out the door.
I navigated the boat toward them, and as I studied the women through the binoculars, a shark fin carved through the water
near the container.
“Bloody hell.” They didn’t need that adding to their distress. Another two fins came into view, and I frowned.
Jesus. Maybe there had been more than two people on their yacht when it sank.
Please don’t let that be the case.
Jeff returned. “First aid is set up in the recovery room.”
“Good. Get the tender ready.”
As Jeff strode out the door again, I reduced our speed to avoid rocking that shipping container with our wake.
Once we were fifty yards away, I stopped the engine. There was no point dropping anchor out here. It would never reach
the bottom.
I pulled on my captain’s hat, and at the doorway, I yelled toward the bow, “Whisper, you’re with me in the tender.”
“Yes, sir.” She sprinted toward me.
I strode to the rear of our boat where Jeff had lowered the rubber raft into the water. “Jeff, keep Coral Guardian steady.
We’ll go get them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Whisper and I climbed into the raft and sat together at the back. As I guided us toward the semi-submerged shipping
container, the morning sun broke over the horizon, casting brilliant rays across the tranquil ocean. At least we didn’t have a
swell to deal with.
“Jesus, check out those sharks.” Whisper’s eyes lit up.
 She’d done enough scuba diving with sharks to be fearless of them. Then again, Whisper didn’t seem to be scared of
anything.
Just like Emily had been. Until those final moments when she’d clawed my neck. Her terror had been so raw it had ripped
out my heart.
Dragging my mind off that brutal memory, I focused on the women atop the container.
As we approached, Whisper cupped her hands around her mouth to project her voice. “Hello!”
The women stood, and I realized the person with the cropped blonde hair was just a girl. Mother and daughter, maybe,
although they didn’t look alike.
As we crossed the glassy surface, a stench wafting through the air made my stomach churn.
“Jesus, what the hell is that smell?” Whisper met my gaze.
I shook my head. “I don’t know, but it’s not good.”
“It’s coming from the container, isn’t it?” Whisper asked.
“I’d say so.”
“Shit.” Whisper’s expression grew serious.
We had three unfortunate situations where we’d recovered gruesome bodies from the water. I had a sick feeling that
whatever was producing the stench would be just as horrific.
Cuts and blood covered the exposed skin of the two women, and their faces were etched with exhaustion.
I eased the rubber raft to the side of the container. “Hello, I’m Captain Ryder Westwood.”
The woman lowered to her hands and knees to peer down at us. “Hi, I’m Piper, and I’m with my daughter, Scout. We’re so
glad to see you.”
Although she looked broken and battered, there was a strength in her tone that confirmed Piper was a fighter.
“Likewise. Hold on tight and we’ll get you off that thing.”
Although she attempted a crooked smile, deep sorrow emanated from her eyes.
A shark fin glided inches away from our raft. The fin had a triangular chunk taken out of it, and I imagined an angler’s hook
had made that wound.
“Whisper, pass me that rope.” I pointed to the front of the raft.
She handed the rope forward, and standing on the tender’s rubber siding, I attached the rope to the corner of the container,
securing us in position.
“Whisper, think you can climb up there?”
“Give me a boost and I will.” She gripped her hand on my shoulder and raised her leg.
I cupped my hands and lifted Whisper onto the container.
“Thank you so much.” Piper wrapped her arms around Whisper.
“You’re so lucky you found this container,” Whisper said, easing back from Piper’s embrace.
“Not really. I think this is what our yacht crashed into,” Piper said.
“Shit! That’s unlucky.”
“Yeah. During that storm,” Scout added.
“Right. Well, let’s get you two off this thing.”
“Yes, please.” Piper draped her arm over her daughter’s shoulder.
Whisper leaned over the side. “You ready, Captain?”
“Ask them to turn around and lower on their stomachs.”
Whisper held onto Scout’s wrists, lowering her first, and as I gripped her hips and helped her into the boat, the poor girl
looked like she was ready to crumble into a heap. “Okay, I’ve got you. Let her go.” Once her feet were on the raft’s rubber
side, she pulled away from me, stumbled backward, and flopped onto the bottom.
“You’re okay.” I helped her to stand. “Take a seat over here.” I pointed toward the front.
We repeated the process with Piper.
Once she stood in the boat, she turned to me. “Thank you.”
My breath caught. Piper had weathered a shocking situation, yet she was still truly stunning.
“I’m sorry we took so long to find you.”
“You found us. That’s all that matters.” Her eyes glazed with excruciating sadness.
“Piper. Was there anybody else on your yacht?”
“No, just us two.”
Relief washed through me. “That’s good. Take a seat with Scout.”
After Piper sat with her daughter, Whisper lowered herself down from the container in a move that demonstrated her
strength. Once she was steady in the boat, I undid the rope.
“Hang on,” Whisper said, indicating to the handles for Scout and Piper.
Returning to Coral Guardian, I studied my bullet-riddled boat and shook my head. The hull was intact, but the rest was a
fucking mess. She wasn’t likely to bounce back from this destruction.
Piper turned to me. “What happened to your boat?”
“We ran into trouble last night.”
“Trouble?” She raised her brows. “Looks like you ran into a warzone.”
I huffed. “Yeah, something like that.”
Jeff helped us transfer Piper and Scout from the raft onto our patrol boat.
“Okay, ladies, this way.” He led them inside.
“Whisper, after you secure the tender, meet me on the bridge,” I said.
Removing my cap, I strode inside and pulled my phone from my pocket. Grace had sent through Indiana’s phone number.
At the bridge as I dialed Indiana, I studied the shipping container again through my binoculars. The side facing me had no
identifying markings.
“Yo, is that you, Ryder?” Indiana’s deep voice boomed down the phone line.
“Sure is, Indiana. I have a job for you.”
“Yes. I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Her sarcasm oozed down the line.
I could picture her bugging her chocolate eyes at me. “Sorry. Hi, Indiana. How are you?”
“I’m better now that I’m talking to you, Captain Hottie,” she said.
I groaned. I hated her nickname for me.
“You calling for that date you keep promising me?”
I released a nervous chuckle. I have never promised to take her on a date. Nor would I. Indiana was an interesting woman
but absolutely not my type. She was rugged and bold, and I would never challenge her to a wrestling match. She had so much
anger in her she would probably beat the crap out of me.
Dodging her question, I said, “I have a loose shipping container that needs to be towed to shore. Are you available?”
“I’m always available for you, Captain.” The queen of innuendo attempted a sexy lilt to her tone.
“Great,” I said. “But our equipment has been compromised, so I’ll send you our last known coordinates, and you may need
to scout around to find Coral Guardian.”
“Compromised, huh? That sounds like a story you can tell me over dinner.”
I rolled my eyes. “Indiana. The contents of this container appears to be illegal.”
“Ooh, what do we have? Cigarettes? Weapons?”
“A foul stench.”
“Ah, fuck. You sure do know how to ruin a good date. Okay, send me the deets. I’ll kick Rhino into gear.”
Rhino was Indiana’s salvage boat which was built for extracting wrecks from the bottom of the ocean and was not designed
to look pretty.
I ended the call and texted her the coordinates Piper had sent us before her yacht sank. There was no telling how far the
container had drifted from that location. Hopefully, Indiana would locate us faster than we’d taken to find them.
After noting the rescue of Piper and Scout in the logbook, I added details of the container and my request to have the
shipping hazard towed to shore.
Unfortunately for Piper and Scout, we wouldn’t be able to take them to dry land just yet. We needed to wait until that
container was out of harm’s way.
I strode to the recovery room.
“Here’s the birthday boy,” Whisper’s booming voice bounced around the room.
I groaned. I’d forgotten about my birthday, and I’d hoped everyone else had, too.
“Happy birthday,” Piper said, indicating to the chocolate cake on the plate before her.
“Thanks.” I nodded at her. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now.”
“What about you, Scout? Are you okay?”
Piper’s daughter had only crumbs left on the plate in front of her, and she had her hands around a steaming mug. Her green
eyes were bloodshot, possibly from crying. “I’m okay.”
“Good.” I pulled up a chair. The smell of chocolate was too good to resist, and I cut a small piece of cake for myself.
“Would anyone like more?”
“Yes, please.” Piper and Scout both pushed their plates forward.
“I’m sorry we don’t have anything more substantial.” I placed cake on Piper’s plate and pushed it toward her.
“That’s okay. You weren’t expecting to pick up a couple of castaways.”
I nodded. “Sorry about your boat. Dreamcatcher, is that right?”
A sadness washed over Piper’s expression that was so dark that I expected her to crumble to tears. She gathered herself,
though, and nodded. “Thanks, and yes, Dreamcatcher is right.”
“You believe you hit that container?”
 “Yeah.” Piper cleared her throat. “Water came in through a hole in the bow, and a wave capsized us. Scout and I swam out
of the cabin once Dreamcatcher was fully submerged.”
“Jesus, that would have been terrifying,” Whisper said.
“Scout was very brave.” Piper grinned at her daughter.
Scout’s expression gave me no clue as to what she was thinking. The poor girl was probably in shock.
“Where have you sailed from?” Jeff asked.
“We left Perth three months ago and sailed across the top of Australia.” Piper reached for her daughter’s hand, but Scout
slipped her fingers away before her mother touched them.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Whisper said.
“Yeah. Amazing.” Scout’s tone oozed disdain.
A red blush washed over Piper’s neck, and she seemed to shrink a fraction.
I finished the last of my cake and pushed the plate away. “Well, you both must be exhausted, so get some rest and we’ll
have you on dry land and on your way to the hospital very soon.”
“No,” Piper blurted. “We, um, we don’t need a hospital. We’re fine. Aren’t we, Scout?”
Her daughter nodded. “I just want to go home.”
Piper’s eyes seemed to plead at me.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “You have been through some—”
“Yes,” she cut me off. “We just need to rest. That’s all.”
“Okay. But if you change your mind, we’ll make the arrangements.” I stood.
“What’s going to happen with that container?” Fortitude hardened Piper’s expression.
“As you know, that container is a shipping hazard. So, I’ve arranged to have it towed.”
“That’s good.” Piper’s shoulders softened.
I had a feeling she had more to say, but when she didn’t, I said, “It’s going to take a while for Indiana to reach us, so get
some rest.”
Forcing my gaze from Piper’s sad eyes, I walked back to the bridge.
The damn shipping container had drifted closer to our boat, meaning we needed to keep an eye on that thing. Coral
Guardian didn’t need any more scrapes. I peered at the rusted metal through the binoculars again, searching for identifying
marks, but its unique CSC number wasn’t visible.
“Excuse me, Captain.”
I spun to Piper as she stepped onto the bridge. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Regarding that shipping container, I just wanted to ask if you smelled that um . . .”
“Yes.”
As her gaze drifted over the bullet-riddle equipment, a spark of wariness crossed her expression. She curled her hand
around her wavy red hair, strangling the ponytail, and when she lowered her sad gaze but didn’t ask a question, I decided that
Piper had been through some serious shit.
Just like me.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” I plucked my phone from my pocket.
She frowned. “No, not really.”
“Parents? Family?”
“No. I’m okay. Thanks.” A darkness that was equal parts sadness and exasperation washed over her eyes. She looked so
lost. The pain seemed to crush her more than the wounds that crisscrossed her skin. A burning desire to hold her to my chest
and tell her that everything would work out rushed through me.
What the hell am I thinking? She has enough going on without me invading her space.
Shoving my phone away, I stepped back from her. Needing a change of subject, I said, “Did you happen to notice any
markings on the container?”
She blinked a few times as if searching her recall. “I’m sorry, with the waves and everything, we struggled to get on top of
it.”
“No need to be sorry. You have gone through hell. Thank goodness you climbed onto it though. You would have been much
harder to find.”
“Yeah, well, those sharks were extra motivation.”
Nodding, I peered out the windshield to the container. The sharks were still there, circling the red metal as if sizing up their
dinner.
“Do you think the sharks can smell that . . .” Piper didn’t finish her sentence.
Her comment was like a lit stick of dynamite in my brain. I needed to get intel on that container. “Yes, I do.” I scrubbed my
hand over my face, feeling the rough stubble on my cheeks. It had been a long night, but I wasn’t going to get sleep any time
soon. “Listen, you head back to the others and get some rest. I’m going to take the raft out and get another look at the container.”
 “I’ll come with you,” she said.
“No. No. It’s okay. You can—”
“Please. I can’t sleep anyway.” She shrugged one shoulder, and it was such a delicate move, it would be easy to mistake
Piper for a frail woman. But she wasn’t. From what little I knew about her already, she was anything but fragile.
“Really? I thought you’d pass out after the night you had.”
“Yeah, me too. But I have so much going through my mind, I can’t switch off.”
I knew that situation well enough. “Okay, then. Follow me.” I led the way back to the recovery room.
Whisper burst out laughing just before I entered. Scout and Jeff were also chuckling as he applied bandages to Scout’s left
hand.
“Hey, Captain,” Whisper said. “I was just telling Scout about my last attempt to bake a cake.”
I chuckled. “It made good fish food if I recall.”
“Actually, yeah it did.” Whisper giggled. “I’d rather degrease an engine than blend ingredients together.”
Scout’s jaw parted as she blinked at Whisper like she was a Hollywood star. It was a look of awe that I’d seen aimed at
Whisper many times.
“Piper and I are going to take another look at that container.”
“What?” Scout blurted. “Why the hell would you want to go near that thing?” She glared at her mom.
Piper’s expression highlighted her turmoil, and I had a feeling she wanted to protect her daughter from the truth.
“Don’t worry, we won’t go too close,” I said, hopefully helping Piper out.
“You want me to come with you?” Whisper asked half-heartedly as she swept her gaze between Piper and me. The glint in
her eyes was a worry, though. Whisper liked to think her job description included rescuing me from my widower status.
She was wrong. I didn’t need rescuing.
And I sure as hell didn’t need a woman in my life ever again.
“No, we’re fine. But I’d like you to contact the hotels in Rosebud and book Piper and Scout a room for the night.”
“Sure.” She smiled at Piper. “Don’t worry. We’ll look after you, won’t we?” She winked at me.
Rolling my eyes to Jeff, I said, “You’re on bridge watch. And make sure you keep a distance from that container.”
“Yes, sir.” Jeff stood.
I led Piper to the rear of Coral Guardian, and she climbed into the raft without my prompting.
As I guided the raft toward the container, the ocean was no longer the plate of glass it had been earlier. The breeze had
picked up, instigating ripples across the surface, and the sun was a golden orb in the sky, beating down mid-summer heat with
vicious intensity.
“I’m so glad Scout and I weren’t stuck on that thing in the middle of the day,” Piper said.
“I agree. You’re very lucky.”
She groaned. “No. That’s one thing we are not.”
I got the feeling she wasn’t referring to the demise of her yacht, and I hoped Piper would elaborate. But I needed to yank
that curiosity back. Although this stunning, brave woman was attracting my interest, I needed to curb that bullshit.
“Those sharks are persistent.” Piper’s comment dragged me from my stupid thoughts.
Four dark fins circled the container and didn’t seem perturbed by our approach.
“Yeah.”
As I had already established, the side of the container facing us didn’t have any markings. The majority of the container
was beneath the surface, and peering into the water, I searched for the giant letters that usually branded containers and frowned.
It was blank.
I drove around the other side and found the ISO code 40HC stenciled in white, describing the container as a forty-foot-high
cube. Below that was the weight and the manufacturer’s plate.
Hopefully, the CSC number will be on the front doors.
“Do those numbers help?” Piper asked.
“Not really. I was hoping to find the CSC number, which is supposed to be displayed prominently on the doors and sides.”
“Why would that be helpful?”
“It’s a unique number used to identify the owner of the container.” But I already had a bad feeling that even with that
number, finding the assholes who knew what was inside this thing wouldn’t be easy.
“Ryder.” She said my name like we were old friends. “Do you think the container could have people inside? Dead bodies, I
mean, from human trafficking?”
“I don’t know. But I bloody well hope not.”
She squinted at me like this was some kind of test.
A shark fin came so close to our boat that I could have touched it.
“I’d say the sharks think so,” she said.
Resisting a further response, I turned the boat away from the container and steered back to Coral Guardian.
 But as the stench drifting in the breeze followed us, I decided that Piper’s yacht had definitely crashed into a world of hell.
My hometown had been linked to some fucked-up crimes in the last couple of years.
This is next level.
If that container did have victims of human trafficking inside, then the bastards behind this crime were going to be seriously
pissed that the incriminating contents were found.
I glanced back one last time at the container, and an ugly foreboding gripped my chest. The sharks circling were like
guardians of a horrendous secret.
Finding this container wasn’t just about unearthing the contents, this was going to wage a war on the assholes behind it.
And that put me, and everyone connected to it, in the crosshairs of some evil bastards.
 CHAPTER 8

Ryder

I had to shift Coral Guardian out of the way of the shipping container twice before Indiana’s boat, Rhino, arrived. As Indiana
eased her salvage boat alongside Coral Guardian, coming in too close for my liking, I stepped from the bridge.
“Fuck me, Captain. Did you run into pirates?” She released a throaty cackle.
“Something like that.”
She whistled. “Sounds like fun.”
Whisper stood beside me and waved. “Hey, Indy.”
“Whisper, how you doing? Got yourself a man yet?”
“Nah, none of them can keep up with me.”
“I hear you.” Indiana burst into laughter like her comment was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
“I’ll come over,” I said. “Hold steady.”
She saluted me. “Roger that.”
“Want my help, sir?” Jeff asked as I entered the bridge.
“Not yet. Keep an eye on that container, though. The damn thing is chasing us.”
“Will do.”
I turned to exit and collided with Piper. “Shit.” I grabbed her arm as she tumbled backward. “Sorry. You okay?”
She curled her red hair behind her ear. “I’m fine. Is that the salvage boat?”
“Yes. We’ll get moving in a minute, so hang tight.”
Worry crept across her forehead.
“Is Scout okay?” I asked.
“She’s asleep. Thank goodness.”
I cupped my hand around her arm. “You should try to sleep, too. This could take a while.”
She tilted her head, and the sunlight caught in her stunning blue eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. I need to get over to Indiana before she slays me.”
At the back of Coral Guardian, I climbed into the raft, started the engine, and motored to the other side of Rhino.
“You look like you had a rough night.” Indiana stepped onto the raft wearing her signature outfit: navy T-shirt, denim shorts
that were frayed at the hem, and blood-red Dr. Martens ankle-high boots.
“Did you hear how we found the container?” I asked.
“You ran into it?” She cocked a sassy grin, and her mirrored glasses reflected a blaze of sunlight.
“Not me, but a yacht did.” As we crossed the distance to the container, I briefed Indiana on Piper’s accident.
“Fuck me. That’s unlucky.” Indiana has been cruising these waters her whole life, so she would understand what Piper and
Scout went through. “Are they okay?”
“Not really. I could tell that boat meant a lot to her.”
“Unfortunately, there’s Buckley’s chance of salvaging it. Out here, it’s a bottomless pit.” Indiana did an imaginary slice
across her neck. “That boat is a goner, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.”
As I angled the raft to arrive alongside the container, Indiana pointed to the corners of the rusted metal. “This will be piss
easy. I’ll hook the cables to those corner castings, and Bob’s your uncle.”
“I want this one to make land, Indiana. Make sure it doesn’t sink.”
She slapped my back. “Ye of little faith.”
I leveled my gaze at her. “I mean it.”
“All right. I get it. Trust me, mate, if this thing contains what you think it does, I’ll do whatever you want to help you crucify
them.”
“Good. What do you need me to do?”
 “Kiss me.” She leaned forward with her eyes closed and her lips puckered.
“Indiana!”
“All right. Fucking hell, man, you need to lighten up, ya grumpy bastard.” She flicked her hand toward her boat. “Get me
back to Rhino, and you can give me a hand with the cables.”
Revving the engine, I circled back to her boat. “Is your dad helping you today?”
“Nah.” She adjusted her sunglasses on her nose. “I gave Old Smithy a rest day. He was pissing me off.”
“So where is he?”
“He’s doing what he does best.” Her shoulders sagged.
“Getting drunk?”
“You got it.”
“Things haven’t changed, huh?”
“Nah. He’s happier when he’s got booze in him, but who am I to judge? I don’t know how I’d react if I went through what
he did.”
I guided the boat alongside Rhino, and she climbed out. “Meet me at the back.”
Her boots tracked her long strides to the rear.
Working together, we secured heavy-duty cables from Rhino to two corner castings on the container. Once the cables were
in position, I returned Indiana to Rhino.
She thumped me in the arm. “Ready to do this?”
“Ready when you are.” I gave her a thumbs-up and guided my raft away from Rhino to a position where I could watch the
cables and the container.
Rhino's powerful engines roared to life, churning up the water as she eased away. The cables tightened with a loud creak,
and the massive container rolled forward like a dead whale, yielding to Rhino’s power.
Water boiled at the front of the metal monstrosity as Rhino dragged it through the tranquil waters. Once I was certain the
plan would work, I motored back to Coral Guardian.
Whisper met me at the rear dive platform. “I’ll look after the raft, boss.”
“Thanks, Whisper.” I stepped on board.
As I returned to the bridge, our engines rumbled beneath us.
I was surprised to see Piper still standing. Nodding at her, I said, “Still can’t sleep, huh?”
“Unfortunately.” She scrunched her nose in the cutest little move.
As we made our way toward the shore, following the container that created ripples across the surface, Whisper returned to
the bridge carrying a tray topped with four steaming coffee mugs.
She handed me a mug. “Black coffee and the last of your birthday cake to get us through the next couple of hours.”
“Thanks.” Taking the plate, I inwardly groaned. I already hated birthdays and now this one could be added to my reasons
why. As I sipped the bitter, sweet brew, my gaze drifted to Piper. Her expression was impossible to read. She would have a
rocky road ahead, but she’d already proven she was tough, so she would bounce back.
Not like me. I was still wallowing in anger and confusion over what Emily did. That rotten reality was going to crush me
forever.
Piper had showered and redressed into the same clothes, and as her hair dried, the strawberry-blonde waves lightened in
color. A wayward curl drifted toward her eye, and for some crazy reason, I wanted to sweep it away. Piper was commanding
my attention, and that was messed up. The poor woman had been through hell. She didn’t need a grump like me ogling her.
I plucked my phone from my pocket and dialed command.
“Border Force command,” Grace answered after a few rings.
“Grace, it’s Ryder. We have the container secured and we’re heading to Rosebud Wharf. We’re going to need a crane when
we get to the other end. Have you informed the wharf manager?”
“Yes, I have Nate Christianson on standby. I’ll let him know you’re on the way.”
Nate had been promoted to wharf manager after the previous wharf manager was jailed for twelve years for a string of
offenses related to Chui’s crimes. I hadn’t met Nate yet, but I’d heard good things.
“What’s your ETA?” Grace asked.
I checked the clock. “About an hour. And, Grace, I have a bad feeling about the contents of this container, and I couldn’t
find the CSC number. Can you have Captain Watts on standby?”
“Yes, sir. You think it’s that bad, huh?” Grace said.
“Unfortunately. It’s looking grim.”
“Okay, Captain. I’ll get onto it.”
“Thanks. See you soon.” I ended the call.
Piper’s fascinating blue eyes were aimed at me as she hugged the coffee mug to her chest like it was a safety beacon.
“Are you okay?”
 Goddammit, why do I keep asking her that? Of course, she isn’t.
She nodded. “I’m just thinking about the contents of that container.”
“It’s probably best if you don’t. I’m sure you have enough to worry about.”
“Oh, speaking of that.” Whisper clicked her fingers. “I called around for accommodation for Piper and Scout, but with the
sailing regatta this weekend, both hotels are fully booked as are all the B and Bs. I’d offer my place, but with all my brothers at
home, there’s not even enough room to breathe.” She wriggled her brows at me.
I frowned at her.
“You have three spare bedrooms in your house.” Whisper shrugged.
Bloody hell. Fighting the urge to growl at Whisper, I turned my gaze to Piper.
“It’s okay,” Piper said. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Whisper’s right. I have three spare bedrooms. You and Scout are welcome to stay at my place as long as you need.”
“Oh.” Piper sucked her lips into her mouth.
I had the impression she was fighting tears. If she broke down, it would be my undoing.
“I mean it. But the only problem is, I’ll still have a few more hours looking after this mess.” I shifted my gaze from Piper to
the container being dragged ahead of us. I was certain the contents of that thing were going to consume the rest of my day.
“I understand. I don’t have anywhere else to go anyway.” A sadness washed over her that nearly cracked me in two.
“I’ll hang with you and Scout until he’s ready.” Whisper grinned like she’d solved all the problems in the world.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” Jeff asked Piper.
“No.” Her gaze swept to me.
“What will you do now?” Jeff asked. “Do you have a place back home in Perth?”
Piper shook her head. “I sold my home after my husband died.”
“Oh, damn. You poor thing.” Whisper wrapped her arms around Piper. “You’ve been to hell and back.”
Piper hugged Whisper, but her eyes were on me.
My heart clenched over the sorrow marring Piper’s beautiful features.
She and I did have something in common after all. We were both widows.
When her sad eyes locked on mine, I had a feeling that the contents of that container carving through the water ahead of us
were the least of my worries.
 CHAPTER 9

Ryder

At the wharf, Indiana maneuvered the container next to the dock, where Nate waited with his crew. I moored Coral Guardian
alongside a pontoon, and the stares from a couple of boaties nearby reminded me of the bullet holes punched into her sidings.
That attack from the enemy vessel over Chui’s wreck already seemed like days ago. For now, the report I needed to do on that
damage would take a back seat to the container.
As I shut down the engines, Scout strolled into the bridge, squinting against the sunshine.
“Hey.” Piper strode to her daughter. “Are you okay?”
“What’s happening?” Scout bounced her gaze from one of us to the next.
“We’re at the marina,” Piper said.
Scout’s gaze drifted out the front windshield. “What are they doing with that?”
She nodded at the shipping container that bobbed on its side, semi-submerged in the water.
“The authorities will handle it from here,” I said.
Two men were lowered onto the container and working in harnesses attached to the crane hovering above, they connected
four cables, one to each corner of the container.
I need to be there when they open that thing.
“Whisper, you stay with Piper and Scout,” I said.
“Yes, sir, don’t worry about us women. We have lots to chat about, don’t we?” She winked at Scout, and the teenager
frowned.
I nodded at Piper. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Try to relax, okay?”
A tiny smile curled at her lips. “I’ll try.”
As I stepped from Coral Guardian onto the pontoon, the men on the container were lifted away and lowered back on the
dock. With Jeff at my side, I strode along the pontoon, pushed through the security gate at the end, and headed toward the crane.
Police Captain Ian Watts had cordoned off an area with temporary fencing that had been erected mighty fast, and I was
stopped by two of Rosebud’s latest police recruits, Lacey Brooks and Tyler Kingsley, who I’d never met before. Lacey Brooks
looked way too young to be a cop. Or maybe I was getting old. And Tyler had a fierce glare that would make most criminals
crumble.
But despite declaring who we were, the cops wouldn’t let us past the barricade until they’d gained approval from Watts.
While I waited for his go-ahead, I rang Aria, but when she didn’t answer, I left a message for her to call me.
Aria’s investigation into Chui’s illegal activities resulted in many arrests that ranged from politicians to junkyard workers.
Rosebud had two cops embedded in that corruption, and they were men I’d known for years and would have trusted with my
life. That was how they got away with their crimes for too long. They used people like me.
The pain of their betrayal was like a festering wound that made me cynical. It was hard enough trusting the cops that
remained at Rosebud Police Station, let alone two new recruits.
Once we were let through, Jeff and I strolled toward three people in head-to-toe hazmat clothing who stood in a huddle
drinking coffee and chatting like they were there for a costume party. I had no right to judge them. Those guys had one of the
worst jobs in the world, and I was grateful that they put their hands up to process what I was certain was going to be a
gruesome crime scene.
I would be the laughingstock of Rosebud if the container contents turned out to be rotten fruit. Although my gut told me I
was right, this was one of those times where I hoped I was wrong, laughingstock or not.
“Hello, Captain Hottie.” I was surprised to see Indiana had beaten us to the restricted area. Then again, knowing her, she
probably came from the water’s edge and sweet-talked her way past one of the wharf personnel. “You sure you want to see
this?” she said. “Curiosity can be a bitch.”
“I know, but I have to see what’s in there.”
“Yeah. Me too.” She rested her fists on her hips. “Though I know I’m gonna regret it.”
 “Same.” I had unfortunately dragged a few lifeless bodies from the ocean, but only one had ripped out my heart. I begged
for my brain to wrench away from that horror, but it wasn’t easy. Nothing about her was.
Following the blunt orders from Officer Kingsley, Jeff, Indiana, and I kept our distance.
Indiana nudged her hip to Jeff’s side. “Hey, you. How’s your missus?”
“Michelle is good.” Jeff smiled like he always did at the mention of his wife. They were high school sweethearts. Just like
Emily and I had been, and I knew exactly how wonderful a love like that was. Until it wasn’t.
“You let her know that anytime she wants to whip me up some more of those scones you gave me last time, I’m in.” Indiana
rubbed her non-existent belly. Her body was hardened by years of manual labor working on Rhino. She had been twenty when
she’d bought that boat from her father before the debtors got their hands on his only asset.
Jeff grinned. “Sure. Although she’s got her hands full at the moment with Victoria.”
“Oh. Nothing bad, I hope.”
“Nah. Our little munchkin is only seven, but she’s into everything. Horse riding. Hip-hop dancing. Swimming. God help us
when she’s a teenager.” Jeff rolled his eyes.
“Get her on the ocean.” Indiana grinned. “That’s what happened to me, and I turned out okay. Right, Captain Hottie?” She
gave me an exaggerated wink.
I glared at her, and she burst out laughing.
Indiana liked to put on a show, giving the illusion that everything was rosy. But her mother had died in a shocking murder
when she was nine, and although the father who raised her tried hard, her upbringing on Rhino was questionable.
A twanging sound snapped my attention back to the container. As it was lifted into the air, water poured from a few random
holes in the sides. Were those air holes? If they were, it increased my conviction we were about to uncover a horrific crime
scene.
“I hope you’re wrong about this, Ryder.” Indiana moaned.
“Me, too, but I’m getting some bad vibes.”
“Same.”
“Have you ever got wind of human trafficking in this region, Indy?” I studied her in a lame attempt to see if her answer was
truthful, and I hated that I felt the need to do that. I’d known Indiana for over ten years. She was one of the good guys despite
the family legacy she was born into.
“Nope. But you’re asking the wrong person.” She tilted her head, and the sun homed in on the jagged scar on her forehead.
“If there’s illegal shit going on in this place, Old Smithy will know. He loves getting involved with the shady characters. Keeps
him alive.”
I huffed. Indiana’s dad had a knack for getting himself into trouble, and she’d had to bail him out many times. “Thanks. I’ll
ask him.”
“Make sure he’s got a few brews in him first. Otherwise, he’ll never blab.”
“Got it.” I nodded at her.
“And remember, he’s half deaf. You’ll need to get right in his ear.” She rolled her eyes. “Stupid bastard refuses to get a
hearing aid. Drives me nuts.”
Following Nate’s instructions that he yelled into a two-way radio, the crane driver lowered the container onto the dock
where a massive tarp with upturned sides had been prepared to catch evidence.
As water poured out the holes in the container like pressurized spouts and pooled on the tarp, the two men who had
attached the cables earlier climbed ladders to the top of the container and unhooked them.
The crane’s engine switched off and a heavy silence hung in the air. Even the breeze had stilled like my seaside town was
preparing for the worst.
A man in a high-viz jacket stepped forward with motorized bolt cutters. “Ready?”
One of the hazmat personnel nodded.
My heart thundered.
Indiana chewed on the skin around her thumbnail.
A snap sounded as each of the four bolts sealing the container was cut free.
The high-viz man unhooked the two latches and peered at the hazmat guy for confirmation.
Indiana turned to me with a grim expression.
“Turn away.” I stepped in front of her.
My heartbeat boomed in my ears like thunderclaps.
Everyone stood back from the doors as a second hazmat man stepped forward. The container doors shrieked as they were
opened.
Liquid contents gushed out, and everyone who was able to see inside the container groaned and rushed back from the
deluge. The stench of death and decay filled the air, making my stomach churn.
The looks on the faces of those in front of the open doors confirmed that my gut instinct was right, and I snapped my gaze
away.
Behind me, Piper stood behind the police barricade with her hand over her mouth.
Fuck!
I marched to her. “What are you doing here?”
Tears pooled in her eyes as she shook her head.
I grabbed her wrist, but she tugged her arm free.
“You don’t need to see this.” I clenched my jaw, furious at Whisper for letting Piper out of her sight.
“I wanted to.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
I pulled her to my chest, forcing her to look away. “I’m going to kill Whisper. She’s supposed to—”
“I told her I needed some air. Please don’t blame her.” Piper draped her arms around me, but she turned her gaze so she
could see the container again.
“You crazy woman.” I shook my head. She didn’t need to see this.
When the liquid contents from the container had finished pouring out to become a disgusting brown pool contained within
the tarp, the hazmat team stepped inside.
“I’ve seen enough,” Jeff said. His face was beyond pale.
I released Piper from my embrace. “Jeff, head on back to Coral Guardian to finish up. Take Piper with you.”
“Yes, sir. Come on, Piper.” He nodded at her.
To Piper, I said, “I’ll come get you as soon as I can.”
Piper looked up at me, and something so intense crossed her eyes that my chest squeezed.
“Let’s go see what mischief Whisper and Scout are up to.” Jeff placed his hand on her lower back to guide her away.
“See you soon.” Her voice was a breathless whisper that seemed to swirl around my heart.
I swallowed. “Get some rest.”
As she and Jeff strolled away, her long red hair fell in waves down her back, and my mind careened to Emily. I’d loved her
long blonde hair and the way it swayed when she walked. And her carefree smile. And her laugh. God, I loved her laugh.
A dagger pierced my heart. I wrenched my mind from my wife who had caused me so much hurt to the forensic scene ahead
of me which was just as painful.
Captain Watts walked toward me with a dark cloud shrouding his expression.
“Right then.” Indiana nodded her head toward the police captain. “That’s my cue to get out of here.”
“Indiana.” He nodded at her.
“Captain Watts.” She flashed a strained grin at him and then turned to me. “Catch you later, sexy.” She marched away like
Watts was chasing her with handcuffs.
Watts shook my hand. “Captain.”
“I hate it when I’m right.”
He stood at my side with his hands on his hips. “Fucking bastards.”
“How many victims?”
“Too many,” he said. “Even one is too many.”
I groaned. “That’s true.”
“I shouldn’t be sharing this with you.” He tilted his head at me. “But there’s something you need to see.”
Frowning, I waited for him to elaborate.
“You want a photo, or you want to see what I’m talking about for real?” He indicated with his head toward the crime scene.
My stomach churned as shocking images crisscrossed my mind. “A photo will suffice.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket, jabbed the screen a few times, then handed the phone to me.
I frowned. “What the fuck? Scorpion Industries.” I hissed as I glared at a photo taken from inside the container. The
corrugated surface distorted the drawing, and dribbles of moisture had disfigured the artwork, but it was unmistakable. The
drawing was the Scorpion Industries logo. The image had been a major feature in many headlining news articles after Chui had
died. “Is that drawn in blood?”
“Looks like it. My guess is one of the victims drew it.”
“Sending their dying message.” I shook my head. “Those poor people.”
“Some of them were kids.”
My knees threatened to buckle. “Jesus Christ. Do you think the container was shipped from here? Or coming here?”
“Don’t know yet.” He turned to the container.
I followed his gaze as two men in hazmat gear carried a body, concealed in a bag, from the container and gently lowered
the victim next to three more on the other side of the tarp. The gruesome scene displayed unimaginable tragedy, and the loss of
those young lives cut me to the core.
Pain from my own loss slashed my brain and my chest tightened. Before the pit of sorrow that was forever threatening to
engulf me took over, I yanked my gaze to a railway sleeper on the ground in front of me with six rusted bolts sticking out of it
like a caveman’s hammer.
“You okay?” Watts eyeballed me.
I heaved a breath. “I knew Chui’s death wasn’t going to be the end of his bullshit, but human trafficking? That’s next level.”
“Yep. It’s fucked.” Watts removed his police hat, drove his hands through his thinning gray hair, and shoved his hat back on.
“I’ll have every agency getting involved in this. And the damn media will be crawling over our town again. I swear this place
is cursed.”
Aria hadn’t mentioned human trafficking to me when we’d discussed Chui’s extensive criminal activities. But this was a
harsh reminder that beneath the tranquil surface of my coastal town lay a dark and dangerous underbelly.
“I agree. I need to let Aria know about this. Can you send me that photo?”
“Sure. And when you contact Aria, tell her you got that photo from me. I’m going to need her help on this one and she has
the right connections.”
“I will.” I sighed. I still couldn’t believe the extent of Chui’s corruption that had gone undetected right under our noses.
Then again, Chui had some powerful friends, including the man at the very top of the Australian Security Intelligence
Organization. But even with him and Chui now dead it still wouldn’t be the end of the drug trafficking.
No country could eradicate that poison, and each time I uncovered an illicit drug haul, I was reminded that we were
fighting a losing battle.
I had a feeling we’d only scratched the surface of who in Rosebud was involved. We were fortunate that some of the stupid
bastards tattooed themselves with the Scorpion Industries logo, because after it was flashed all over the TV and newspapers,
anonymous tips with names of people with that logo as a tattoo came in by the bucketload.
I frowned. “I wonder where the person who drew that Scorpion logo had seen it? Did you see anything in there branded
with the logo?”
“No.” Watts shoved the phone into his pocket. “But it’s too early to say. The container was crammed with boxes of crap
that have turned to mush.”
I groaned as another body was carried across the brown pool.
“This is going to take a while,” he said. “I’ll keep you posted if you want to go. Sounds like you had a rough night.”
I huffed. “You could say that. Have you seen all the bullet holes in my boat?”
“What?”
“Oh shit. You don’t know about that?” I gave him a summary of our attack from the bastards who’d illegally dived down to
Chui’s sunken yacht.
“What the fuck? What were they doing on that wreck?”
“Don’t know.” I shook my head. “As far as I’m aware, nobody has found anything in that wreck other than Chui’s body. But
those bastards were armed to their teeth.”
Two deep frown lines divided Watts’ forehead in half. “What the hell is going on?”
“No idea. But I have a really bad feeling that Chui’s death was just the beginning of this bullshit.”
Ahead of us, another body was carried from the container and placed alongside the first six. A wave of sadness washed
through me. Those poor people would have suffered through hell.
Watts’ spine seemed to crumble. “My wife begged me to retire last year. Maybe I should have.”
I gripped his shoulder. “What would this town do without you?”
Overhead, a chopper hovered like a buzzard.
“The vultures have arrived,” I said.
“Son of a bitch.” He groaned. “This is going to be a long day.”
“Yep, I hear you.”
He flicked his head. “Get out of here before you get roped into something you don’t want to do. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thanks, Ian.” I shook his hand. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I appreciate that.”
As another tiny body was carried from the container, I turned and marched away before bile burned a hole in my belly.
My phone rang, and I checked the screen before answering. “Aria, thanks for returning my call.”
“You have me worried, Ryder. What’s going on?”
“It’s not good.” I told her about the container and its gruesome contents.
“Bloody hell.” A breath escaped her throat.
“But there’s something else. Inside the container, one of the victims drew a picture with what looks like blood.”
She groaned.
“It was the Scorpion Industries logo.”
“What? Christ!”
“Yeah. Chui is still fucking with us.” I told her about the boat that had attacked Coral Guardian.
“Son of a bitch! What the hell are they after?”
 “I don’t know, but they had some serious weapons. You should see my patrol boat.”
Aria’s groan sounded painful. “Thanks for the info. I’ll come your way now.”
“Okay, not sure where I’ll be, but ring me if you need anything.”
“Will do.” I ended the call and retraced my steps to Coral Guardian. The damage to my patrol boat was extensive and
likely to be a complete insurance write-off.
Not having our boat on the water wasn’t good. Not for this town and not for me.
If I wasn’t busy, my mind would careen along the highway to the worst moment of my life and that was a road I did not
want to be on.
Then again, the fight for those innocent victims in the container was on my radar now, and bringing the assholes behind that
brutality to justice gave me a purpose that my wandering mind needed.
I stepped onto the bullet-riddled front deck of Coral Guardian and found Piper sweeping broken glass in the bridge. “Hey,
you’re supposed to be resting.” I tried to take the broom from her, but she pulled away.
“I know.” Her voice was soft yet filled with strength. “I just need to keep moving at the moment.”
I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant. “Okay. Let me wrap up a few things with the crew, then I’ll take you back to my
place.”
“Ryder.” A haunting look swam in her eyes, revealing deep sorrow. “Are you sure about us coming with you? I don’t want
to be a burden.”
It took everything I had not to wrap her in a bear hug and eradicate all her pain. “You’re not a burden. Far from it. Just give
me a few minutes and we’ll get moving.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Clenching her jaw, she shoved the broom across the floor.
As I strode through the passage, laughter bounced off the walls. It was so out of place with the grim scenes I’d witnessed
over the last couple of hours, yet it was also so right. Whisper was a genius when it came to reading personalities, and it
looked like she’d tapped into Scout’s psyche.
I stepped into the lunchroom where Whisper and Scout were playing cards.
“Hey, Captain, you’re back.” Whisper slapped her card onto the middle pile. “Snap,” she yelled like Scout was seated at
the other end of the boat.
“Oh, man. You win every time.” Scout pulled a face, yet she smiled.
“Where’s Jeff?” I asked.
“He said he was checking out the damage topside. You need me to come with you?”
“No. But we’ll end our shift now, so get your things together.”
“Roger that.” Whisper’s chair scraped across the floor as she stood. “Come on, Scout, let’s find your mom.”
“Piper’s in the bridge, sweeping,” I said as I walked away. I found Jeff on the top deck, investigating the water cannon.
“How’s the damage?”
Shaking his head, he slapped the non-lethal weapon. “It’s a goner, I’m afraid. We’ll need a full replacement.”
“That’s not the only casualty. I wouldn’t be surprised if Coral Guardian will be scrapped.”
Jeff winced. “Jeez. That’s going to be an issue. We already have one boat out of the water.”
“I know.”
“How did you go?” He indicated with his thumb toward the crime scene, where the helicopter was still hovering overhead.
“Not good. Seven bodies had been removed before I left.”
“Jesus. That’s horrific.”
“That’s an understatement.” I told him about the Scorpion Industries logo.
His eyes bulged. “What the hell? I thought we were done with those assholes when Aria made all those arrests.”
“Seems like someone had already taken over.”
“Unless . . .” He cringed.
“Unless what?”
“Unless that container has been out there for months.”
I frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.” It wasn’t unheard of for shipping containers to drift in the ocean for years. Most sink,
but a small proportion, like the one Piper’s yacht crashed into, had enough air trapped inside to keep them buoyant.
“Maybe when all those people were arrested, the assholes tossed that container overboard,” Jeff said. “Is there any way to
establish how long it was a sea?”
“No idea.” I shook my head. “Hopefully, the forensics team will find something.”
“Hopefully.”
“Anyway, grab your gear. It’s time for you to go home and give your wife a hug,” I said, heading toward the stairs.
That was what I had done with Emily every night for the thirteen years we were married. I’d gone home and hugged her.
I missed our hugs.
I missed everything about her.
And I fucking hated how that screwed with my mind.
 CHAPTER 10

Piper

As Scout, Ryder, and I strolled from the pontoon where Coral Guardian was moored toward the wharf parking lot, people
shouted at us from an area cordoned off by the police. The helicopter buzzed overhead, and Ryder gave off angry vibes like a
UFC fighter about to step into the cage.
“Hey, Captain Westwood, what can you tell us about that shipping container?” a woman yelled from the crowd. She aimed
the big fluffy microphone in our direction and slapped the arm of the cameraman beside her for his attention.
Refusing to even look her way, Ryder leaned toward me. “Just ignore them. You give them an inch; they’ll take a fucking
mile.” Cringing, he swept his gaze to Scout, who was on my other side. “Oops, sorry. Pardon my swearing.”
“I don’t mind.” Scout grinned.
Our conversation about her swearing seemed like a distant memory.
“Captain Westwood, were the bodies victims of human trafficking?” another woman yelled.
“What bodies?” Scout glared at me. “Were they in the container?”
“Just keep moving,” Ryder said.
“Is that what we could smell, Mom?”
“Scout, it’s—”
“Don’t.” She hissed at me. “If you’re going to lie to me again, don’t.”
“Is the people smuggling linked to Zǐháo Chui?” a man yelled across the parking lot toward us.
Ryder groaned. “Keep moving.”
“How many victims are there?” Another reporter lobbed the question at us.
“Forget it, Mom.” Scout released an exasperated breath. “It’s going to be on the news, so I’ll find out anyway.”
“Okay. Yes, Scout, you’re right.” I wouldn’t be able to protect her from this horror anyway. “Unfortunately, there were
bodies in that container. I wanted to tell you when we could sit down and talk about it properly.”
“Great. And look how that turned out?” She folded her arms over her chest.
“Captain Westwood, do you want to make a statement?” a woman asked.
“My car is this way,” he said to Scout and me, ignoring the reporters as he led the way along an avenue of vehicles.
The shouts kept coming, but Ryder remained stony-faced as he strode to his new-looking Jeep 4WD. He pressed a button on
his remote to unlock the car and opened the doors for Scout and me.
Before I climbed into the passenger seat, the beat of the helicopter echoed overhead, and I peered upward. It was right
above us, and out the open door, a man had a camera directed right at me.
I scrambled into the seat and slammed the door shut. Last thing I needed was to be involved in headlining news. I’d learned
just how cruel those vermin could be when Lewis was first diagnosed. Apparently, an elite athlete cut down in the prime of his
career with a rare debilitating disease made ideal media fodder.
Ryder climbed into the driver’s seat and started the ignition.
“Nice car,” Scout said from the back seat.
“Thanks.” I couldn’t decide if Ryder’s steely expression was because of the reporters who’d haggled us or because he was
harangued into taking Scout and me to his place. Maybe it was both.
“Mom, I’m hungry.” Scout moaned.
“Oh, um . . .. Maybe we could stop at the shop.” My thoughts crashed through another problem. I didn’t have money. Or a
credit card. Or even a phone to access my money. Everything was about sixty fathoms below the ocean surface. I groaned.
“What?” Ryder’s eyes were a fascinating blend of green and blue as if his genetics couldn’t decide which one to choose.
“I don’t have a way to access funds. My credit card and phone were on Dreamcatcher when—”
“I’ll handle food for you two, so don’t worry about that.”
I started to protest, but he glared at me until I nodded.
“Okay. But I’ll pay you back.”
 “No, Piper. Please, don’t. You’ve been through enough. It’s the least I can do.”
“It’s not the least. You’re already giving us a room for the night.”
He pulled the car into traffic. “It’s all good.”
I’d barely settled into the seat before he turned off the road into the parking lot of Sunshine Tavern where a flickering neon
sign announced 24-hour Slot Machines, and the free schooner of beer that came with the special of the day, beef and burgundy
meat pie and chips.
“I need to see a guy here,” Ryder said as he parked the car. “The food is decent enough.”
We climbed out, and as Ryder led the way, Scout walked beside me. Both of us had showered on Coral Guardian and
changed, but while I had to put my grubby clothes back on, Whisper had given Scout a dress that she generously offered for her
to keep. The tiny blue summer dress made my daughter look much older than fourteen and it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a
bra. Covering her size D breasts was just another argument Scout and I seemed to have on repeat.
Inside the tavern, the afternoon sun’s feeble attempt to pierce through the grimy windows cast a dusty haze over the room.
At three in the afternoon, I was surprised at how many people were in there. In one corner, a group of weathered men had their
gazes fixed on a television on the wall which was playing a rugby league game.
In the opposite corner, annoying jingles came from rows and rows of slot machines where a dozen or so people sat, feeding
their coins into the money traps.
Ryder indicated to a booth table in the corner, away from the noisy areas. “Take a seat. I’ll grab some menus. What do you
want to drink?”
“Just water for us,” I answered for Scout and me.
Ryder cocked his head. “You can have anything.”
“A lemonade, please.” Scout grinned.
“Done.” Ryder strode to the bar.
“Scout, I don’t have access to money at the moment, so please—”
“He offered.” She waggled her head.
“Scout! I’m warning you. Be nice.” I glared at her.
“Okay. Fine.” She rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t pop out.
Clenching my fists beneath the table, I turned my attention to the slot machines, where a middle-aged woman with a blank
expression and tired eyes pulled the lever repeatedly, chasing the elusive promise of fortune.
At least when I had access to my funds again, I wouldn’t have to worry about money. Lewis had taken out a life insurance
policy when I fell pregnant with Scout. He’d been twenty-two at the time and was an A-grade football player in the prime of
his life. We’d been able to access those funds when his diagnosis confirmed that his incurable disease was going to result in a
swift death.
While the money hadn’t provided a cure, it did mean he had the best care in the last couple of months of his life. He’d also
said many times that he was pleased to know that Scout and I would be financially stable after he was gone.
Money was the only thing that was okay.
A jukebox in the corner played ‘Untouched’ by The Veronicas, a pop duo from Brisbane. Scout had become obsessed with
the identical twins and unfortunately for me, that meant I’d heard every song they produced about a thousand times over.
The tune was way too chirpy for the chaos going on in my mind.
Ryder returned with our drinks and two menus under his arm. He handed them out. “I’ve had the pie here a few times. It’s
good. But the chicken parmy is the house favorite.”
“That’s what I want.” Scout flopped the menu down.
“Please.” I glared at her.
“Please, Ryder, may I have the chicken parmy?”
He winked at her. “Chicken parmigiana for you. And Piper?”
“I’ll have the calamari and salad, please.”
“Righty ho.” He took the menus from us and returned to the bar.
“Scout, can you please just—”
“Just what, Mom?” She hissed at me. “What are we even doing here? We wasted all day when we could already be at the
airport or flying home.”
I groaned. Not this again.
“It’s not that easy, Scout. I need to work out how to access my bank account so I can buy tickets. I need to lodge an
insurance claim for Dreamcatcher, and I don’t have a phone or computer to do any of that.” My voice got louder as I rattled off
just some of the things I had to do.
I felt the stares from a few of the men near the television.
Scout slapped her hand on the table, shuffled sideways out of the booth, and stormed away.
“Scout. Scout,” I whisper-shouted across the increasing distance between us.
Another random document with
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Tube-feet.—The tube-feet belonging to the aboral surface are
pointed and devoid of a sucker in Diadematidae, Echinothuriidae,
Arbaciidae, and Cidaridae;[490] in the last-named family those
belonging to the oral surface have suckers, in the centre of which a
pointed (sensory) prominence is to be noted.

The classification of the Endocyclica is by no means in a

satisfactory condition, and different authorities have arrived at widely
different results. Agassiz,[491] for instance, places the genera
Echinus (the common British form) and Strongylocentrotus (the
commonest American form) in different families. Bell,[492] on the
other hand, considers them to be closely allied. Bell's system, based
as it is on the development of the peristome, seems to the present
author the most justifiable, for the peristome is undoubtedly a
differentiation of the corona, which has been brought about by the
manner in which the animal breathes and masticates, two functions
of prime importance. The periproct is also of importance,
representing as it does the whole aboral surface of the Starfish, and
so are to a less extent the arrangements of the spines and of the
tube-feet. Proceeding in this way, living Endocyclica can be divided
into six families, which are briefly described below.
 Fig. 235.—Oral view of dried and cleaned test of Cidaris. p, Pores for tube-feet
arranged in single series; per, peristome with both ambulacral and
interambulacral plates; t, tubercle of a large interambulacral spine.

Fam. 1. Cidaridae.—Endocyclica with a large peristome and a large

periproct. The peristome is covered with a regular series of both
ambulacral and interambulacral plates, the former pierced by tube-
feet. No special buccal tube-feet and no external gills. The periproct
is large, and is covered with irregular plates (Fig. 236, A). The
lantern coelom is provided with large Stewart's organs.

The auriculae are incomplete and consist only of pillars arising from
the interambulacral plates. The ambulacral pore-plates remain
disunited, and the pores are arranged in a single vertical series;
hence the ambulacra are very narrow. The interambulacral plates
each bear one large primary spine surrounded by several circles of
secondaries. No ophicephalous or trifoliate pedicellariae are to be
found, and the gland of the gemmiform pedicellaria is placed inside
the concavity of the blade.

Fig. 236.—Figure showing periprocts of A, Cidaris; B, Echinus, × 1. amb,

Ambulacral plate; g.o, genital opening; g.p, genital plate; inter,
interambulacral plate; m.p, madreporite; oc, ocular pore.
The Cidaridae are in many respects the most primitive of the six
families living. They are distributed all over the world, and chiefly
inhabit deep water. No two naturalists agree as to how they are to be
divided into genera. Mortensen,[493] who takes the structure of the
pedicellariae as his principal guide, recognises fourteen genera.
Others (as for instance Bell) have been inclined to attribute nearly all
the living species to one polymorphic genus, Cidaris, finding all
attempts to divide the genera from one another frustrated by the
discovery of transitional forms. Goniocidaris (Fig. 237), however,
distinguished by its comparatively broad poriferous zones, by bare
places in the middle line of both radii and interradii, and by deep pits
on the lines of suture of the plates, is by general consent distinct.
This genus is confined to the Eastern Pacific, but from British waters
three species of Cidaris have been recorded, only one of which, C.
(Dorocidaris) papillata, is at all common. It is found in water from 100
to 500 fathoms in depth off the western coast of Ireland and
Scotland. It also occurs in the Mediterranean, and has been carefully
examined and described when living by Prouho.[494] From his
description it appears that locomotion is effected almost entirely by
spines, and that the tube-feet of the lower parts of the radii have
each in the centre of the disc a pointed sense-organ like those in the
centre of the first tube-feet of the just metamorphosed Echinus,
whilst those of the aboral surface have no suckers.

Fig. 237.—Goniocidaris canaliculata. × 2. (From Wyville Thomson.)

Fam. 2. Echinothuriidae.—Endocyclica with a large peristome and
comparatively small periproct. The peristome has a regular series of
ambulacral plates bearing pores for tube-feet, but no interambulacral
plates. No specially modified buccal tube-feet, but external gills are
present, and internal gills (Stewart's organs) also occur. The
periproct is covered with numerous small plates. All the plates of the
corona are separated by thin slips of flexible body wall. Numerous
comparatively short primary spines on both ambulacral and
interambulacral plates; these spines are covered on the tips with a
layer of hard dense material.

Fig. 238.—Oral view of Asthenosoma hystrix. × ⅔. (From Wyville Thomson.)

This remarkable family is divided by Mortensen into ten genera,

based as usual on the pedicellariae, but taking into account also the
shape of the tip of hard material on the spines. Most authors refer
the majority of the species to two genera, Phormosoma and
Asthenosoma (Fig. 238), recognising also a genus Sperosoma for
one or two aberrant species. Asthenosoma is distinguished by
having wide interspaces of membrane between the plates, and by
having ten longitudinal folds of the body-wall, two in each radius, in
which powerful longitudinal muscles are developed projecting
inwards in the radii. The organs of Stewart are very large. In
Phormosoma, on the contrary, the interspaces of membrane are very
narrow, and the longitudinal folds are thin and membranous and the
organs of Stewart are vestigial. Asthenosoma hystrix and
Phormosoma placenta have both been dredged in deep water off the
Irish coast. A. urens, in which there are ectodermic poison-sacs at
the bases of the spines, inhabits the Indian Ocean near Ceylon, and
was thoroughly described by the Sarasins,[495] who regarded its
structure as a proof that Echinoidea were derived from
Holothuroidea. Both palaeontology and embryology have, however,
yielded strong evidence that Echinoidea were derived from
Asteroidea, and hence there is ground for believing that
Holothuroidea are descended from primitive Echinoidea and not vice
versa. The Echinothuriidae may perhaps be regarded as showing
the first steps in the change, and though possibly not closely related
to the actual ancestors of the Holothuroidea, they at any rate show
parallel modifications.

Fig. 239.—View of peristome of Asthenosoma hystrix. amb, Ambulacral plates on

the lower edge of the corona; inter, lower plates of the interambulacral area.
(From Wyville Thomson.)

Fam. 3. Saleniidae.—Endocyclica with a large peristome and

periproct. The peristome is covered with thin, scattered, irregular
plates. There are five pairs of special buccal tube-feet, each
supported by a special plate, and there are external gills. The
periproct is excavated in the side of a large central pentagonal plate.
It is covered with fifteen or twenty plates.[496] The ambulacral plates
are separate as in the Cidaridae, but occasionally adhere in pairs
near the peristome. The interambulacral plates also, as in Cidaridae,
each bear one large primary spine surrounded by a circle of
secondaries. A few deep-water forms belong to this family, the type
genus Salenia (Fig. 240) being the best known. None occur in the
British area. Superficially they resemble the Cidaridae, but in reality
they are widely separated by the essentially modern character of the
peristome.

Fig. 240.—Dried and cleaned shell of Salenia varispina, showing periproct

covered by one large plate. × 4. (From Wyville Thomson.)

Fam. 4. Arbaciidae.—Endocyclica with a peristome on which, as in

Saleniidae, there are only ten prominent plates perforated by the
buccal tube-feet, and besides these thin irregular plates; external
gills are present, and the auricles consist of incomplete arches
springing from the ambulacral plates. The periproct is covered by
four valve-like plates. The ambulacral pore-plates are separate near
the periproct, but near the peristome unite on the "Arbacioid" pattern
(v. p. 531) to form secondary plates. The interambulacral plates each
carry several spines. No representatives of this remarkable family
are known in British waters, but Arbacia is found both on the east
coast of North America and in the Mediterranean. It is distinguished
by its conical test. All the upper tube-feet are devoid of a sucker; only
those on the oral surface are used for locomotion.

Uexküll has studied the Mediterranean species, and has shown that
the spines converge no matter how strong the stimulus may be, and
so are incapable of aiding in locomotion; also that the ectoderm is
devoid of ciliation, and hence the faecal matter which falls on the
surface of the animal is not, as in other genera, allowed to fall off by
the divergence of the spines nor swept off by the action of the cilia.
In its natural habitat the wash of the ripples on the shore cleanses
the animal. In captivity it is liable to suffocate itself.

Fam. 5. Diadematidae.—Endocyclica with a peristome similar to

that of the Arbaciidae and the Saleniidae. External gills present and
ten buccal tube-feet. Periproct small, covered with numerous small
plates. The auricles form complete arches arising from the
ambulacral region. Aristotle's lantern is provided with rudimentary
Stewart's organs. The ambulacral pore-plates are separated at the
apex, but unite orally in "Diadematoid" fashion (p. 531) to form
compound plates. The interambulacral plates bear numerous
primaries. The aboral tube-feet are pointed, having lost their suckers.

This family is represented (according to Agassiz) at the present day

by seven genera, none of which are found in British waters, though
one (Centrostephanus) enters the Mediterranean. C. longispinus[497]
was investigated by Uexküll and found to be distinguished by its
sensitiveness to light and shade, and by the quickness of its
movements, which were mainly carried out by its long spines. The
family resembles the Arbaciidae in the pointed aboral tube-feet, but
in the complete auriculae it resembles the next family.

Fam. 6. Echinidae.—Endocyclica with peristome and periproct as in

the preceding family. External gills and buccal tube-feet present, but
Stewart's organs totally absent. Ambulacral plates combined on the
"Triplechinoid" plan (p. 531) to form secondary plates.
Interambulacral plates with numerous tubercles. All the tube-feet
have suckers.

This family contains by far the larger number of living genera. It is

divided into two sub-families, viz.:—

(a) Temnopleurinae.—Echinidae in which the plates of the corona

dovetail into each other by means of pits and knobs along the line of
suture. This sub-family does not occur in British waters; almost all
the species are confined to the Indian and Pacific Oceans, but on the
east coast of America it is represented by several genera, which
however inhabit deep water, e.g. Trigonocidaris arbacina.
(b) Echininae.—Echinidae in which the plates meet each other in
straight, simple sutures.

This sub-family is represented in British waters by three genera, viz.

Echinus, Sphaerechinus, and Strongylocentrotus. Echinus is
distinguished by having its pores arranged in arcs of three, owing to
the fact that its pore-plates are united in threes to form secondary
plates, whilst in the other two genera the ambulacral plates are
composed of four or more pore-plates. Six species of Echinus have
been recorded from British waters, viz. E. esculentus, E. acutus, E.
miliaris, E. norvegicus, E. microstoma, and E. elegans. The validity
of the last three is very doubtful. Mortensen[498] regards E.
norvegicus and E. microstoma as mere variations of E. acutus, and
this is probably correct. E. esculentus has already been described;
its most marked character is the forest of comparatively short, close-
packed, reddish or white primary spines with which it is covered,
between the bases of which the delicate secondaries are hard to
detect. It is essentially a shallow-water species. E. acutus is
distinguished by having much fewer and longer primaries and
numerous delicate secondaries. It is an inhabitant of deeper water,
being abundant at 100 fathoms, though stragglers are found in
shallower water. At the depths at which it lives wave-disturbance can
scarcely be felt, and hence the long primaries are not irritated.

E. elegans has spines intermediate in character between those of E.

esculentus and those of E. acutus. Like the latter it is an inhabitant of
the deeper water. It seems to the present author not at all
improbable that further research might show that E. acutus, E.
elegans, and E. esculentus are all members of continuous series of
forms; certainly the larvae and early development of E. acutus and
E. esculentus, the extreme members of the series, are strikingly
similar.

E. miliaris differs somewhat widely from the other species and is

closely allied to E. microtuberculatus of the Mediterranean, from
which it is distinguished mainly by the greater thickness of the
scattered plates on the peristome of the latter species. From the
other British species it differs in its much smaller size and in the
greenish hue of its primary spines, which are short and thick and
possess purple tips. Its larva is markedly distinct from the larva of E.
esculentus. E. miliaris is a littoral species, and is found in great
numbers in some of the Scottish sea-lochs; when the tide recedes,
under every stone of the gravelly beach several specimens will be
found. It has a curious habit of "dressing" itself, i.e. of covering itself
with fragments of dead shell, sea-weed, etc., which are held in
position by the aboral tube-feet. This habit aids in concealing the
animal, and has probably been developed on account of the dangers
to which E. miliaris is exposed owing to its littoral habit of life.

Sphaerechinus differs from Echinus in the structure of the

ambulacral plates, in which it agrees with Strongylocentrotus, but it is
distinguished from this genus by the very deep gill-clefts, or
indentations of the edge of the corona from which the gills are
extruded. Its most marked peculiarity, however, as shown by both
Mortensen and Uexküll, consists in the highly developed character of
its gemmiform pedicellariae, on the stalks of which are situated
glands. When the head with its poison-glands is torn off, the
secretion of these stalk-glands can envelop an enemy with a
glutinous secretion, which impedes its movements. The blades on a
slight mechanical stimulus divaricate very widely and become locked
in this position, so that the enemy's body gets in well within their
reach. The muscles of the poison-glands contract, but their ducts are
bent by the act of opening, so that the secretion cannot escape. The
sense-organs have stiff hairs, which penetrate the surface of the
enemy and cause its juices to exude and so stimulate the blades to
close, and at the same time permit the poison to be expelled. It will
be remembered that the gemmiform pedicellariae of Echinus open in
response to a chemical stimulus and close on a mechanical one
being superadded; so that their responses are the direct opposite of
what occurs in Sphaerechinus. S. granularis, a Mediterranean
species with short red spines, just reaches the Channel Islands.
Strongylocentrotus has shallow gill-clefts and gemmiform
pedicellariae, like those of Echinus, except that they have a
muscular stalk. In the British area it is represented by two species, S.
lividus, in which the primary spines are markedly longer than the
secondaries and are of a brownish purple colour, and S.
droëbachiensis, in which the primaries are little longer than the
secondaries and are of a greenish brown colour. S. lividus occurs
abundantly in the Mediterranean, and reaches the English Channel
and the west coast of Ireland. In the last-named locality, where it is
exposed to the full sweep of the Atlantic, it is said to excavate holes
for itself in the limestone rocks, about ten inches in depth.[499] S.
droëbachiensis, which has been recorded in the British area, chiefly
from the west coast of Scotland, is one of the most abundant
members of the fauna of the east coast of America. In the Gulf of St.
Lawrence and in the branches of the Bay of Fundy it is found in
thousands, and is frequently left bare at low tide. It thus takes the
place of E. miliaris in the British fauna. An allied if not identical
species, S. purpuratus, is found in Puget Sound on the Pacific coast.

Other interesting genera of the Echininae are Echinometra,

Colobocentrotus, and Heterocentrotus. All possess large, thick
primaries, and all are elliptical in outline. In Echinometra the
primaries are pointed, and the long axis of the body makes an
oblique angle with the axis passing through mouth and madreporite.
In Colobocentrotus and Heterocentrotus the axis passing through
mouth and madreporite is the short axis of the ellipse, and the
primary spines are very thick and triangular in section, whilst the
expanded ends of the secondaries form a closely set armour
between the bases of these. In Colobocentrotus the test is markedly
flattened on the under side, and this flattened area is fringed with a
circle of primaries; but in Heterocentrotus there are a few rows of
primaries all over the test. These are tropical genera and are found
on the outer side of coral reefs, and they require the cuirass of
expanded secondaries to protect them against the waves.

Order II. Clypeastroidea (Cake-urchins).

The "Cake-urchins" have only one representative in the British area,
and this is unsuitable for dissection on account of its small size. We
shall therefore select as type the "Sand-dollar" Echinarachnius
parma (Figs. 241, 242), which occurs abundantly in shallow water on
the east coast of North America. As its popular name implies, this is
an extremely flattened Sea-urchin of nearly circular outline, so as to
suggest a resemblance to the silver dollar of North American
currency. The peristome is exceedingly small, and is placed in the
centre of the lower surface (Fig. 241), whilst the periproct is placed
on one edge. The outline is not quite circular, for the periproct lies in
a slight indentation of the edge; and this side is broader and of a
lesser degree of curvature than the opposite one, so that a
secondary bilateral symmetry is superimposed on the fundamental
radial symmetry common to all Echinoderms. A line drawn so as to
pass through the anus and the centre of the disc will divide the
animal into two similar halves; the periproct of course lies in an
interradius and the axis of symmetry passes through the centre of
one radius. We can thus distinguish an anterior group of three radii,
or "trivium," from a posterior pair or "bivium." The madreporite lies in
the left anterior interradius. The five genitals and five oculars
surround a dorso-central plate, which covers the spot which in
Endocyclica is occupied by the periproct.
 Fig. 241.—Oral view of "Sand-dollar" (Echinarachnius parma), with spines. amb,
Ambulacral furrow, × 1.

The whole test is covered with extremely short delicate spines, which
form a velvety felt-work, and are all of approximately the same
length; they are of a brownish purple colour. The spines on the
dorsal surface are all ciliated, and these cilia cause a current of fresh
sea-water to flow continually over the modified tube-feet.
Pedicellariae are scattered amongst the bases of the spines; they
are of the tridactyle, the gemmiform, and the ophicephalous types,
but they have only two jaws.

Fig. 242.—Aboral view of the "Sand-dollar" (Echinarachnius parma), with its

spines. m.p, Madreporite; pod, small tube-foot with sucker; pod', flattened
respiratory tube-foot. × 1.

The ambulacral areas on the upper surface of the test can be

distinguished only by the flattened respiratory tube-feet (Fig. 242,
pod'), which can be seen protruding from between the spines. Below
these areas are clearly marked, for in the centre of each is a well-
marked groove proceeding inwards to the peristome. This groove
receives lateral branches on its course which traverse the adjacent
interambulacral regions. The purpose of these grooves will be
explained later. The interambulacral regions do not reach the
peristome, which is entirely surrounded by the ambulacral areas.
The ambulacral and interambulacral areas both consist of somewhat
large hexagonal plates, except in the region of the respiratory tube-
feet. Here the pore-plates are not united with one another. This
region in each radius is termed a "petal" (Fig. 243, A, p), for the
respiratory tube-feet are arranged in two rows which diverge from
their commencement at the "calyx" and slightly converge again
towards the outer margin of the disc, and thus in a dried specimen
the two rows of double pores outline an area having some
resemblance in shape to the petal of a flower. Besides these double
pores for the larger tube-feet there are numerous small single pores
for the smaller tube-feet; these are found in all the plates, ambulacral
and interambulacral, of the dorsal surface, but in the neighbourhood
of the grooves only on the ventral side.

Fig. 243.—A, aboral, B, oral view of Echinarachnius parma after spines have
been removed, amb (in A), Ambulacral plates, (in B), ambulacral furrows;
g.p, genital pore; inter, interambulacral plate; p, petal; t.t, pore for terminal
tentacle, × ½.

The sphaeridia are only present to the number of one in each radius.
Each sphaeridium is enclosed in a pit situated near the edge of the
peristome.

A remarkable feature in the skeleton of Echinarachnius which is

characteristic in greater or lesser degree of all Clypeastroidea is the
presence of vertical partitions of calcareous matter traversing the
coelom and stretching from the upper to the lower surface of the test.
These are found principally in the peripheral region of the animal;
and there can be no doubt that they have originated as cellular
bands traversing the coelom, for the formation of similar structures
can be followed step by step in the Crinoidea. In the axis of these
trabeculae, or folds of the coelomic wall, jelly is secreted, and into
this the lime-producing amoebocytes wander. In Echinarachnius
these partitions are arranged in groups, each group radiating from a
common centre.

The main peculiarities in the structure of Echinarachnius are

comprehensible when the species is viewed from above in its normal
environment. It is found in comparatively shallow water on a sandy
bottom, and normally is nearly but not quite buried in the sand. It
might thus be overturned by the force of the waves and currents, and
it is protected against this fate by its flattened shape. This shape,
however, necessitates some kind of support for the upper part of the
test, and this is provided by the internal partitions.

In order to view the internal anatomy of the "Sand-dollar," it is

necessary carefully to pick away the dorsal surface of the shell piece
by piece. In this way the whole course of the alimentary canal is
exposed; as in Echinus esculentus it can be seen to issue from the
upper surface of Aristotle's lantern. It then bends sharply to the left,
and makes a complete circle round the edge of the disc; this portion
is the stomach, and is considerably inflated and accompanied by a
"siphon." It then bends sharply back on itself, but only goes half way
round; when it reaches the posterior interradius it ends in the anus
(Fig. 244).

Aristotle's lantern is greatly simplified as compared with its condition

in the Regular Urchins. Both rotulae and compasses are absent; the
jaws are sharply bent on themselves, and their appearance gives
one the impression that they have shared in the process of
compression which the test as a whole has undergone, and have
thus become bent. The teeth are nearly horizontal, and they actually
articulate with the auriculae, which, as in Cidaridae, consist of
disconnected pillars and spring from the plates of the interradius.
Each pillar is fused with the adjacent one belonging to the next
radius, so that the system which in Echinus consists of five radial
arches here consists of five interradial pillars. Aristotle's lantern has
lost its respiratory function and apparently its masticatory function as
well, for the teeth are used as spades to shovel into the mouth the
sand mixed with organic detritus and small organisms on which the
animal lives.

The water-vascular system is highly modified. There are two sharply

marked kinds of tube-feet—(a) the respiratory tube-feet, (b) the
locomotor tube-feet. Both kinds are terminated by suckers, but the
first variety are much larger than the second; they possess a
flattened lobed base, and are connected with the ampulla by a
double canal. They issue only from the double pores which form the
petal. The locomotor tube-feet are small and cylindrical; they are, as
already mentioned, scattered over the whole upper surface of the
test, penetrating both ambulacral and interambulacral plates, but all
are connected by transverse canals with the radial canals of the
water-vascular system. On the under surface they are confined to
the neighbourhood of the ambulacral grooves, which have nothing to
do with the ambulacral grooves of an Asteroid, but are due to
secondary localisations of the tube-feet, which are here also
connected in each radius with a single radial canal. The appearance
of a living Echinarachnius covered with a veritable forest of short
brown tube-feet is very striking.[500]

Fig. 244.—Dissection of Echinarachnius parma. × 1. The oesophagus has been

cut through and moved to one side so as to expose Aristotle's lantern. The
aboral part of the test has been removed. gon, Genital organ; int, intestine;
 musc, transverse muscle connecting jaws of adjacent interradii; rect,
rectum; siph, siphon; st, stomach.

The condition of the water-vascular system is to be explained

entirely by the peculiar environment of the animal. The demand for
specialised respiratory organs is brought about by the habit of living
half buried in the sand. Under these circumstances the strain of
supplying the needful oxygen is thrown on the dorsal tube-feet, and
they become modified in order to fit them for this function. The
locomotor tube-feet are very small and feeble compared with those
of Echinus esculentus, but this is comprehensible when it is
recollected how little resistance the yielding sand would offer to the
pull of a powerful tube-foot like that of the Regular Urchins, for in
order to move the creature through the sand a multitude of feeble
pulls distributed all over its surface is necessary, and the locomotor
tube-feet are exactly fitted, both as to size and number, for this
object.

The principal points in which Clypeastroidea vary amongst

themselves are (1) the nature of the internal skeleton, (2) the shape,
and (3) the spines.

Internal Skeleton.—In Echinocyamus and its allies this consists in

each interradius of two simple partitions radiating out towards the
edge of the disc; in Laganum it consists of walls parallel to the edge
of the disc; in Clypeaster, of isolated pillars.

Shape.—In Echinocyamus the outline is oval and the test

comparatively high. In Clypeaster and its allies the outline is
pentagonal, and the test is swollen up into a blunt elevation in the
centre. In a large number of genera, however, the test is, as in
Echinarachnius, extremely thin and flat, and the outline may be
variously indented. A first indication of this process is seen in
Echinarachnius itself, but in Rotula the edge is drawn out into finger-
like processes which are all interradial. In Mellita these processes
unite with one another distally so as to surround spaces called
"lunules," which appear as perforations of the test.

The Classification of the Clypeastroidea adopted by Agassiz is

based chiefly on the degree of development of the internal skeleton,
and as this is of great physiological importance to the animals we
shall follow it here; but since it was published the remarkable
discovery has been made of Pygastrides, a type previously known
only from fossils. We must therefore recognise two sub-orders:—

Sub-Order I. Protoclypeastroidea.
Anus on dorsal surface near apical pole. One species, Pygastrides
relictus,[501] with no "petals," from deep water in the Caribbean Sea.

Sub-Order II. Euclypeastroidea.

Anus on under surface.

Fam. 1. Fibularidae.—The "petals" are short and imperfect, and the

internal skeleton consists of two short outwardly-directed septa in
each interradius. To this family the only British Clypeastroid,
Echinocyamus pusillus, belongs. This animal never exceeds an inch
in length, and has an oval outline. It inhabits shallow water, and is
often found in the same ground as Echinus miliaris, but like all
Clypeastroids it prefers a sandy bottom.

Fam. 2. Echinanthidae or Clypeastridae.—"Petals" well marked,

internal skeleton consisting of isolated pillars. The largest Cake-
urchins belong to this family, which is found chiefly in tropical waters.
Clypeaster, the great Cake-urchin, with a deeply sunken peristome,
belongs to this family.
Fam. 3. Laganidae.—Closely allied to the foregoing, but
distinguished by the fact that the internal skeleton consists of walls
parallel to the edge of the test. (Laganum, Arachnoides, Peronella.)

Fam. 4. Scutellidae.—This family includes about half the genera,

and is sharply distinguished from all the rest by (1) the extremely
flattened shape, (2) the indentation of the outline in the anal
interradius and often elsewhere, (3) the branching of ambulacral
furrows on the under surface. Echinarachnius, taken as the type in
describing the anatomy of the Cake-urchins, is the best-known
genus. Others are Mellita, with five perforations in the edge of the
test; and Rotula, with the edge produced into a number of finger-like
processes.

Order III. Spatangoidea (Heart-urchins).

As the type we may select Echinocardium cordatum, which occurs
abundantly in the Clyde and on the west coast of Ireland. The animal
is found buried in sand at a depth of about 8-10 inches from the
surface. At this depth it lies in a burrow, the walls of which are kept
from collapsing by the somewhat broadened tips to the spines. This
burrow communicates with the surface by a narrow cylindrical
opening similar to the opening of the burrows made by the Clams
and other bivalves. A little practice, however, enables one to
distinguish the burrow of the Heart-urchin from these.

The animal is about the size of a small potato, and is of light straw
colour. Its outline is oval, and the test is about two-thirds as high as
the shorter diameter. It is thus higher in proportion to its width than is
the case with any living Cake-urchin. The highest point is behind the
centre. The narrower end of the animal terminates in a vertical edge,
in the upper part of which is a large periproct covered with a number
of thin movable plates. The mouth is situated on the under surface,
considerably nearer the front end of the test than the hinder end. It is
entirely devoid of jaws or of teeth, and also of gills or of a movable
peristome.
Aristotle's lantern has entirely disappeared, leaving as the only trace
of its former presence a canal with membranous walls encircling the
mouth, which has the form of a transverse slit, the posterior lip
projecting considerably forward.

The ambulacral areas are easily distinguishable from the

interambulacral areas by being comparatively bare of spines. On the
upper surface they are distinctly grooved, the groove being
especially deep in the case of the anterior one. On the lower surface
they coalesce round the mouth, shutting out the interambulacral
regions, and are here perforated by the large pores of the buccal
tube-feet. Between the two posterior radii on the oral surface there is
a space with specially arranged spines called the plastron or
sternum. The interambulacral plates composing this region are very
much lengthened, and interdigitate with one another at the sutures.
To this lengthening is due the apparent forward shift of the mouth.
The spines are very characteristic, and are very different from any
which have as yet been described. They are the sole organs of
locomotion. The primaries are long and curved, with flattened tips,
admirably adapted to plough through the sand in which the animal
lives. On the upper surface, mingled with the tube-feet, are a large
number of small secondary spines. Between the two posterior petals
there is a hoop-shaped band of very small black spines. These
spines are ciliated, and draw a current of fresh sea-water over the
respiratory tube-feet. Beneath the periproct there is a similar band
called the "sub-anal fasciole"; this probably produces a current of
water which sweeps away the material ejected from the anus.

The pedicellariae are of the trifoliate and gemmiform varieties. The

sphaeridia are situated in open pits, one or two in each, situated at
the bases of the tube-feet nearest the mouth.

When the upper part of the test is picked away, the course of the
alimentary canal is exposed (Fig. 247). It is very similar to the
alimentary canal of Echinarachnius, except that from the first coil a
large blind pouch, called the caecum, is given off.
The water-vascular system shows many characteristic features. The
tube-feet are confined to two rows in each ambulacrum, the
scattered smaller feet found in such abundance in Echinarachnius
being entirely absent. There are four distinct varieties of tube-feet in
Echinocardium, which are as follows:—(a) The respiratory tube-feet
of the petals. These have, as in Echinarachnius, broad flat bases,
but they have lost the sucker. (b) The prehensile tube-feet of the
anterior ambulacrum. These are enormously long structures,
measuring when expanded several times the length of the body.
They end in discs, which are frayed out into fingers, so as to look like
miniature sea-anemones. These tube-feet are comparatively few in
number and are confined to the apical portion of the anterior
ambulacrum. (c) The buccal tube-feet. These are short, thick, and
pointed, and covered with a multitude of club-shaped processes.
They are found on all the ambulacra in the neighbourhood of the
mouth. (d) The degenerate tube-feet found in the portions of the
ambulacra between the "floscelle" (see p. 553) and the petals. These
are single and pointed, few in number, and issue from single pores in
the test.

Fig. 245.—Echinocardium cordatum. A, aboral view; B, oral view, × 1.

This extraordinary diversity in the tube-feet is fully explained when

the habits of the animal are known. The function of the respiratory
tube-feet requires, of course, no special elucidation, but the peculiar
anterior ambulacrum was a mystery till the feeding habits of the
animal were observed by the late Dr. Robertson[502] of Cumbrae. He
found that the animal protruded the long prehensile tube-feet through
the opening of the burrow up to the surface of the sand. With their
finger-like processes they then collected the surface film of the sand,