The Girl Beneath the Sea (Underwater Investigation Unit #1)(54)

“So, this is still a cover for the two of you?” I ask, half joking.

They look at each other and contemplate this. Cynthia asks George, “When did it start becoming real?”

“I knew it was real the moment I first saw you. But when you picked me up from jail with a bottle of champagne and said it was just for show, I suspected it was maybe more than that. If not, thanks for protecting my cover all these years.”

“It’s a journalist’s job.”

George glances over at me. “So, where did she pick you up from? I tried to bail you out of Palm Beach, but they said they never processed you. I called FBI, DEA, and everyone else I could think of. Nobody had an answer. The duty officer at Palm Beach hung up on me when I asked where you’d been taken. I was on my way to his house when Cindy told me you emailed her.”

“To his house?” asks Cynthia. “What were you going to do? Beat it out of him?”

Solar responds gruffly, “I don’t like to be hung up on.” He turns to me. “So, what the hell happened?”

I fill him in on everything that happened after I jumped into the water. It seems like I left our rental boat a week ago. In reality, it’s only been five hours. He stops me to ask a few questions but generally lets me tell it the way it comes to me.

At the end of it, he just sits there. I use my phone, which I’d left in the boat, to catch up on text messages with Jackie. She got a little panicked when I didn’t respond after all this time. Although it caused her stress, it warms me a little to know I could be missed that much.

“So, the Kraken is real,” says George. “And those DIA rejects . . . are neck-deep. I still can’t believe they took you to an actual DIA site, though.”

“Was it?” asks Cynthia. “How can you tell an official secret black-ops site from an unofficial one?”

“I guess it comes down to who pays the bills,” he replies. “But if you’re doing everything through contractors and subcontractors, who the hell knows? Jesus.”

I notice a voice mail message from Chief Kate on my phone. I’m pretty sure I’m still on leave, so I’m not sure what it’s about.

I play it, and a minute later, Cynthia and George are staring at me.

“You okay?” asks Cynthia.

“They fired me,” I say flatly.

I’m still trying to make sense of what Chief Kate said. She’d always looked out for me.

“Just like that?” says Solar.

“She . . . my chief . . . says the city manager said they had to let me go because of budget issues.” I stare at them, trying to find some sense of reason. “A week ago, everything was fine.”

I think about my student loans and the share of Jackie’s expenses I make it a point to pay for. Heck, she’s on my health plan—which is now going away.

“How can she do this? Right now, of all times?” I ask aloud.

“Of course right now,” says Solar. “This is how they play the game.”

“What?”

“That Jane woman with K-Group. She did this,” he explains.

“But Chief Kate is my friend.”

“And she still is. The city manager probably got a call from some fed who said they couldn’t pay them for some program like they promised and mentioned questions about you. Who knows how it really went down, but this is most definitely about our case.”

“About what I did? Getting caught?”

“That, everything else.”

“I like being a cop,” I say from the gut. “How can they take that away from me?”

“Do you?” asks George.

“Of course.” Maybe I didn’t fully realize it until now. Maybe diving for the police started as a rebellious way to pay the bills, but I love what I do. I’m proud of it. I think it over for a moment. “I wanna take those assholes down. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines.”

“Do you really mean it?” asks George.

“Hell, yes.”

“You want to keep going? You’re not scared off?”

“One thousand percent.”

“Do you want to take a trip across the state?”

“What?”

George checks his watch. “I’ll explain on the way. We need to hurry. Cindy, I might be back kind of late.”

“What else is new?”

After getting dressed, I follow George out the door and into his truck. “Where are we going?”

“I can’t tell you yet.”

“Enough mystery bullshit for today. Where are we going?” I demand.

“McPherson, I swear to you that I can’t tell you yet. Trust me on that. Either get out or buckle up. Your choice if you trust me.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

GULF

The sun is setting as we race toward the horizon down Alligator Alley. The Everglades, a vast sea of sawgrass, stretches into infinity on either side. This part of Florida has risen and fallen beneath the sea numerous times, reminding us that nothing stays the same. When it’s back below water, none of what’s going on right now will really matter. Small comfort when you measure your life in minutes, not interglacials.

George hasn’t said anything about our destination. Since I suspect that this is a legit secret and not an “I’m going to surprise Sloan with a trip to the ice cream parlor” secret, I stop asking.