Strands of Truth Read online

  Sara toweled off her hair. “Maybe a camera would be the thing to do. At least you could determine the culprit and maybe get to the bottom of all this.”

  “It could just be a fisherman who wanted them. It’s still not right since they belong to me, but it might not be anything sinister.”

  She was grasping at straws, and from the look Sara threw her, Sara knew it too.

  “Josh said the Coast Guard struck out on finding that guy who attacked you. They stopped several boats and questioned a few people, but no one stood out as a possible suspect. So we’re at a dead end.”

  Harper hadn’t expected any real results. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at the guy. “I appreciate the effort. We’re so close to shore, the attacker might have entered the water from there. Maybe it’s someone hired by Kennedy. He showed up here right after the attack.”

  “You have to admit that seems a little extreme for a politician. I’ve been thinking about it ever since it happened. The guy could have killed you.”

  “But he didn’t use the knife on me. I don’t know what he wanted.”

  Sara pulled on board shorts and a shirt. “Everything was quiet overnight?”

  “As a clam. Bear didn’t make a peep.” At the sound of his name, the dog picked up his head and woofed at her, then settled back down and closed his eyes.

  “I don’t like you staying alone on that boat with no one around to hear if you scream.”

  “I have Bear. He’ll warn me if there’s an intruder.” The word scream brought an unpleasant word picture to mind, and she shivered. She pulled a sweatshirt over her wet bathing suit and moved to the controls. “We might as well head for home.”

  “Let’s go to my place. I’ll fix you a late lunch.”

  Her stomach rumbled. “I wouldn’t say no to food.” She reached for bottles of water from the cooler and tossed one to Sara.

  The company would be good too. After the past twenty-four hours and two strange occurrences back to back, Harper wasn’t eager to go to the deserted houseboat. She started the motor and headed for the dock.

  Harper slowed the boat while Sara hopped out the bow and grabbed a post at the dock to secure the boat. She’d have lunch with Sara and forget all about these attacks for a while.

  7

  The night breeze held a bit of a chill, but Ridge was too white hot with outrage to shiver as he walked from the parking lot to the marina. He’d taken Jamal to Dad’s house with instructions to call if he needed him. At least Jamal didn’t have a concussion.

  Ridge passed the park with its painted dolphin and walked past the signs along the dock for dolphin sightseeing tours. Dunedin held on to that laid-back beach town vibe he’d always loved. He’d often come here to enjoy the town’s Scottish celebrations, and he was particularly fond of bagpipes.

  He spied the Sea Silk’s lights almost at once. Harper was home. He skirted a couple strolling along the pier and reached her houseboat.

  Though it looked old, it seemed sturdy. Harper never took it out into open water but stayed either docked here or in some small mangrove inlet along the coast.

  Proper etiquette demanded he ask for permission to board, but he didn’t think she’d hear him from inside, so he stepped aboard and went to the door and knocked. No one answered, so he knocked again. Not even Bear barked. Maybe she’d gone to get food from the Fish Market.

  He retraced his steps back to the pier. He’d try calling her later. He was halfway down the pier when he heard a familiar bark, and Bear rushed toward him. The dog leaped on his leg, and he picked him up as Harper reached them. “I wondered if you’d gone after food.”

  Her hair was still up in a ponytail, and she carried a take-out box. “I just picked up some quesadillas from Olde Bay Café, and I’m happy to share.”

  He started to turn down her offer, but his stomach growled. “Well, now that you mention it, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so I’ll take you up on the offer.”

  “Let’s sit out here. It’s a beautiful night.” Without waiting for an answer, she settled onto the pier and dropped her legs over the side, then opened the box of food.

  The tantalizing aroma of seafood and cheese wafted to his nose. He settled down beside her with Bear, who lay down on Ridge’s lap. “Smells like the shrimp and blue crab quesadillas.”

  “You nailed it.” She held out the box to him.

  He selected a piece and bit into it. The peppers, sour cream, black beans, and seafood hit his tongue, and he gobbled it down like a starving man. “Man, these are good.”

  “My favorite too.” She chewed a moment, then fixed him with a questioning gaze. “So what’s going on? How’s your dad?”

  “His condition is the same, but I told the doctors I’m pretty sure he was attacked.” He told her about what he’d found aboard his dad’s boat as well as the knife in the sand. “And someone hit Jamal—a kid! What kind of maniac are we dealing with?”

  “Is Jamal okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine. Resting. I’ll go check on him soon.”

  Her eyes got bigger as he spoke, and she shivered. “I’ll bet it was the same assailant. It’s so weird. My mollusk beds aren’t worth this kind of attention. I don’t get it. Someone dug up most of my pen shells today.”

  “I think Dad was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The guy who attacked Jamal took Dad’s air tank and sliced hose.” He’d been thinking about this all afternoon. “Maybe there’s something important out there someone doesn’t want you to find.”

  She blinked. “Like what?”

  “Treasure? Illegal activity? Drug smuggling? The list could go on and on.”

  “But the guy who grabbed me wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was trying to take me with him.”

  That fact hadn’t registered with him. “You said the guy had a knife.”

  “But he didn’t try to use it on me—it was a warning not to resist. I escaped anyway, of course, but he came after me. Bear bit him.”

  Bear lifted his head at the mention of his name, then lay back down on Ridge’s lap. Ridge frowned as he thought about the attack, but she was right—the fact the man chased her indicated it wasn’t someone trying to warn her off the area. “This is very odd. Have you had any other kinds of attacks?”

  She shook her head. “Just the break-in I already told you about. Did the information help the doctors?”

  “Not really. They still think the lack of oxygen brought on a stroke or a heart attack. His heart enzymes are elevated, and the CT scan indicates he’s had at least a mini stroke at some point, though it might not have been on Saturday. Even though he’s still in a coma, his doctors are cautiously optimistic.”

  “I’ve been praying for him constantly. Oliver’s been my rock for a lot of years.”

  And no one else in Dad’s family had liked it. Ridge had always wondered if she only saw Dad as a meal ticket, but the moisture in her eyes and the quiver in her voice seemed sincere.

  He reached for another slice of quesadilla. “I talked to the police and asked for an officer to guard Dad, but since I have no proof he is in danger, I got shot down. So I hired a security guard to hang out by the ICU door. I also alerted hospital security, and they said they’d keep an eye on his room.”

  “You really think Oliver might be in danger?”

  He shrugged. “The thug was persistent with you, so it’s possible Dad’s a target too. We don’t know what this is all about.”

  “I’ll rip up the beds. I’m not risking Oliver’s life. I’ll start over somewhere else.”

  He thought about her offer for a long moment. “I’m not convinced this has anything to do with the beds yet. You might be sacrificing a lot of Dad’s money for no good reason.”

  In the twilight her cheeks went pink, and he knew his well-aimed barb about Dad’s money had struck home. Good. Maybe she’d realize what a mooch she’d been for years.

  He set Bear aside and got up. “I’ve gotta go check on Jamal. Let me know if you see or hea
r anything.”

  He should have been happy she’d heard his displeasure, but he felt only a stab of shame as he walked to his truck.

  * * *

  Ridge could hear his dad’s voice booming down the hallway of the cardiac floor as he approached the door. On his way back from Gainesville this morning, the hospital had called to let him know Dad was awake, and Ridge had barely managed to hope for a weak hello. His dad’s voice was the sweetest sound he’d heard in his life.

  Even from here, he heard Dad drawing out the nurse and asking her questions about herself. She was telling him how excited she was to be on the dayshift now and that her husband finally found a job after being unemployed for three months.

  He paused in the doorway and saw the nurse giving Dad a sip of water. Her dark eyes were bright and she was smiling as she brushed past Ridge. “You’ve got a nice father,” she whispered.

  He smiled and nodded. The hospital was fairly new, and his dad’s room held several blue leather recliners and a sofa. The sleek gray cabinets contained plenty of space for belongings, and it was a more welcoming space than most hospital rooms.

  Ridge pulled a chair beside the bed. “You are already sweet-talking the nurses. I thought that last nurse was going to kiss you on her way out.”

  Dad’s black hair was combed, and he wore the pajamas Ridge had brought from home so he didn’t have to wear a hospital gown. The oxygen cannula still snaked around his head, but some of the other monitoring equipment had been removed. Sunlight streamed in the big window on the other side of the bed. A breakfast tray sat on the bedside table, but Dad hadn’t touched much of the food.

  His dad plucked at the crisp white sheet. “How long have I been here? I don’t remember much.”

  “Since Saturday, and it’s Tuesday now. You were in a coma. Do you remember what happened?”

  “The last thing I remember was talking to Harper for a few minutes before I dove. Then I woke up here. What do you know?”

  Should he tell his dad about the assaults? It might agitate him and cause another heart attack. “The doctor thinks you had a heart attack. You’ve also had a mini stroke, though they are unsure if it occurred on Saturday or at some previous time.”

  The color washed out of his dad’s face. “Heart attacks and strokes are for old people. I’m not going down without a fight. Get me released so I can get home.”

  “You need to cool your jets for a few days. You’re not getting out until the doctor is sure you’re stabilized. In the meantime I’ll arrange for a nurse when you get home as well as any equipment you might need.”

  His dad’s black brows drew together in a thunderous scowl. “I don’t need a nurse.”

  “Oh? You’re able to get to the bathroom by yourself now?”

  “Well, no, but it won’t be long.”

  It was going to be a long convalescence. “We’ll see how you do.”

  Dad pressed the button on the side rail and lifted the head of the bed. “Did you tell Harper about the new lab?”

  “I didn’t have a choice since you hadn’t told her.”

  His dad reached for the glass of water on his stand and took a sip from the straw. “She was okay with it?”

  “I don’t think she liked the idea of working with me any more than I like the idea of working with her, but we’ll manage. I examined the setup, and the bivalve beds look good. We might have problems though. You hear anything about a Native American burial ground being found offshore near the beds?”

  Dad shook his head. “What’s going on?”

  Ridge told him about the politician showing up, but he withheld the news of Harper’s attack. The last thing he needed was for Dad to get in a tizzy about her safety. He’d be calling for his Glock and go rushing off without being formally released.

  “Let me check into it. If there truly is a burial ground there, we may need to move the beds. What did Harper think of the research lab?”

  “She isn’t sure she’ll have enough pen shells to share for research. She has already seeded them for black pearls, and she’s sold some of the meat to restaurants to try to build a market for it.” And he still wasn’t sure he wanted to give up his new job for this either.

  “The research is a priority. I’ll make sure she understands that.”

  Like his dad would insist on his own way with Harper. He never had in the past. Anything she wanted, Dad had provided.

  “Why, Dad?” The burning question had never been answered.

  Harper always got priority over Willow and him. Growing up, all he’d wanted to do was spend time with his dad. He wanted Dad at his football games and his science award ceremonies, but Dad was always off on this business trip and that business trip. He had barely hidden his disappointment when Ridge told him he wanted to study mollusks instead of join the family businesses.

  Ridge stepped away. “Never mind. I need to go.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was upset his dad and cause another episode. After all this time, what did it matter?

  8

  Harper had to force herself to concentrate on the road as she drove from Tampa to Dunedin with the top down on her Jeep Wrangler. The glowering sky flickered with lightning, and she smelled rain. Motor homes and cars clogged I-275 as she left the city behind, and there was no good place to stop so she took the next exit and pulled into a deserted lot. She got out and secured the cloth top of her Jeep. The first fat raindrops began to fall before she finished, and she was soaked by the time she slid back under the steering wheel.

  Lightning flashed overhead again, and the thunder rumbled through her bones as twilight fell. Her cell played the beginning chords of Jack Johnson’s “Only the Ocean” and she gasped and pressed the answer icon. “Oliver, you’re awake! I’ve been so worried.”

  “I was beginning to think I’d get your voice mail.”

  “I was out of the Jeep putting up the top. It’s storming here.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just outside Tampa. I had to get some supplies.”

  His answer was garbled. Lightning flickered again, and she had trouble hearing his answer over the sound of lashing rain, wind, and thunder. “Say again? The storm drowned you out.”

  “Ridge told me about the nosy politician. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I’d rather you weren’t worrying about anything like that while you’re still recovering.”

  “I’m going crazy here in the hospital. It will help to think about something else.”

  “You mean you have to keep your fingers in the pie.” She chuckled, but Oliver’s need to be in charge had caused more than one argument between them. He had a big heart but a big personality as well.

  “That too.”

  A long pause followed, and she looked at her phone to make sure they were still connected. Why had he called? She knew better than to think it was to chitchat. Oliver always had an agenda. “You still there, Oliver?”

  “Yes, I’m here. Listen, would you go past the house and talk to Ridge? This feud between the two of you has to stop.” His voice wobbled.

  Harper clenched the phone. She’d never heard his voice shake like that. “Sure, I can try.” She’d do anything for him, but she doubted Ridge would let go of his animosity just because she asked.

  The pounding of the rain lightened, and she started the Jeep and turned on the windshield wipers. “I’ll do what I can, but don’t expect too much, okay? You know he doesn’t like me. I’ll turn around and head for his place.”

  “He’s staying at my house while I’m in here to make sure no one breaks in.”

  Oliver was paranoid about security, and more than once Harper had waited in the rain while he removed all the security and locks to let her in. “I’m about ten minutes from your place. I’ll stop by.”

  He grunted. “So how are you feeling?”

  “Okay. It’s too soon to be feeling pregnant or anything.”

  “Well, call me when you get to the house. If he doesn’t ans
wer the door, I’ll text you the codes to get in.”

  “Sounds good.” She ended the call and pulled out of the lot. Ridge’s reaction wouldn’t be good if he didn’t want to open the door to her and she forced her way in.

  Her stomach was in knots as she merged into traffic on the bridge and drove over Old Tampa Bay with the black night pressing in. Whitecaps churned in the bay’s gunmetal-gray water, but she kept her gaze on the cars ahead of her. During a storm the Courtney Campbell Causeway was downright terrifying, and she wanted to get across before the wind picked up any more.

  When she pulled into the circle drive in front of Oliver’s palatial home, she didn’t see Ridge’s truck in the wash of light from the security lamp, but he could have parked in one of the four garage bays. The rain had stopped, and stars began to peek through the dark clouds as she went to the door.

  She pressed the doorbell and heard it echo from inside. Please don’t be here. A quick stop, and she could be on her way home. There was no sound from inside, and she eased out a relieved breath. She’d just go now.

  She turned toward her Jeep, then forced herself to swing back and press the doorbell again. If she was going to comply with Oliver’s request, she needed to do it right. Her hands curled into fists when she heard footsteps from inside.

  The door opened and Ridge peered out at her. His thick black hair stood up on end, and his button-down collared shirt was wrinkled. He looked pale and drawn.

  He stared at her for a long moment. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your dad said you haven’t answered his texts or calls.” She refrained from reminding him he’d jumped all over her for that very thing just days ago.

  He frowned and bit his lip. “I fell asleep, I guess. It’s been a rough few days.”

  She allowed herself a shaft of compassion. He loved his dad, and this had to have been hard. “I’d rather not discuss this on the porch. Can I come in and talk to you?”

  “Sure.” He stepped aside to allow her to enter.