Murky Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 2) Page 5

  “I talked to as many of them as I could. I wanted to see if anyone knew anything about Penny, but ironically enough, whenever conversation on Penny began it ultimately turned to a discussion about Daphne.”

  “How come?” Quinn moved his other foot on top of Rowan’s ankle, smirking when she widened her eyes.

  “Because Penny is Daphne’s assistant.”

  “It has to be more than that,” Quinn argued. “These women obviously associate Penny with Daphne on a personal level. Either they’re friends – which I don’t tend to believe because Daphne talked to Penny as if she were a slave when I was with them this afternoon – or Penny gossips behind Daphne’s back and these other women now associate Penny with Daphne complaints.”

  “That’s fairly solid thinking there.” Rowan screwed up her face in concentration, making a face Quinn found utterly adorable. “I don’t know what to do other than watch Penny.”

  “We can’t watch her twenty-four hours a day,” Quinn pointed out. “We saw how well that worked last time. We run the risk of people thinking we’re stalkers.”

  “Or, in your case, we run the risk of the women thinking you’re open for offers.”

  “And we don’t want that.” Quinn’s smile doubled in size when Rowan rested her other foot on top of his. Their ankles now formed a weird pretzel. It was ridiculously silly and yet he couldn’t muster the energy to care.

  “We definitely don’t want that because Daphne has decided that she wants you for herself.”

  Quinn’s smile slipped. “That woman bothers me. She’s extremely bossy and full of herself.”

  “You’d have to be to run a company, right?”

  “Yeah, but she clearly doesn’t understand what the word humility means,” Quinn argued. “There are different ways to exert control – friendlier ones – and she clearly doesn’t want to go that route.”

  “So … what do we do?”

  “We keep our eyes and ears open.” Quinn extended his hand. “We also take a walk.”

  “A walk?”

  Quinn nodded. “I want to take a walk with you. Even though we’ve talked, I feel as if I haven’t seen you all day. We can continue making plans while we walk.”

  “It’s raining,” Rowan pointed out. “We’ll get wet.”

  “Do you melt when you get wet?”

  Rowan shook her head. “You run the risk of my hair turning into a big mass of uncontrollable curls given the humidity, though. You might mistake me for a witch in the wrong light.”

  “I can live with that.” Quinn was reluctant to untangle his feet from Rowan’s, but he was anxious to get some air. They’d earned a number of curious stares from fellow co-workers as they passed the table and Quinn felt as if he was on display.

  “Okay.” Rowan stood carefully to make sure she didn’t trip over Quinn’s legs and shoved her phone in her pocket before taking his hand. “I don’t want to hear one complaint about my hair when it grows to the size of a kraken, though.”

  Quinn barked out a laugh, genuinely amused. “I’m sure I’ll be able to control my tongue.”

  The deck was quiet when they stepped out from the cover of the hallway, the night quiet other than a few scurrying guests who were anxious to avoid the rain. Since dinner was in full swing, Quinn wasn’t overly worried about Penny expiring during their walk, figuring she was otherwise engaged and in the middle of a crowd.

  “What are we going to do about dinner?” Rowan asked, lifting her face to the sky so she could feel the rain. She’d opted against wearing makeup because the humidity made her skin blotchy and Quinn couldn’t help but marvel how pretty she was despite the lack of artificial manipulation.

  “We can grab something at the deck restaurant in a little bit.”

  “Are we cleared to eat there?”

  “I’m cleared to eat everywhere,” Quinn replied. “I can also bring a date, so you’re cleared to eat wherever I feel like eating.”

  “That’s … convenient.”

  “I think so.” Quinn squeezed her hand as they walked, the couple falling into amiable silence. Thankfully the rain consisted of a light pattering rather than a steady deluge. It was more sprinkles than anything else.

  As they walked, Rowan knew she should bring up Penny’s safety and the shifting death omen. She was fairly certain the fact that the symbol hopped between individuals was significant. She had no idea why, though.

  “Did you ever picture yourself living at sea half the time?” Quinn asked, drawing Rowan toward the railing and slipping behind her so he could wrap his arms around her waist. The stance felt natural, as if Rowan should live there all of the time. He couldn’t help but marvel about how comfortable he felt with her despite only knowing her for a few weeks.

  “Not really.” Rowan’s lips curved as she ran her fingertips over Quinn’s knuckles, which he had wrapped around the banister, essentially trapping her in place. “I’m always up for a new adventure, though. It’s not as if I have anything holding me in Michigan. My family is gone for the most part, so … I was kind of eager to come here.”

  “Still, you must wish you had family to anchor you.”

  “I wish for things that I can’t change,” Rowan clarified. “I wish my mother didn’t die when I was a kid. I wish my father didn’t follow her when I was barely an adult. I wish I knew what happened to my father so I could stop imagining so many terrible things.”

  “Yeah, not knowing is worse.” Quinn rubbed his cheek against Rowan’s as he stared at the rolling ocean. “When I was overseas, we hit a roadside bomb one day and I lost consciousness in the carnage. When I woke up, two of my fellow marines were dead, but a third was missing.”

  Rowan jerked her head to the side so she could study his profile. “Did you ever find him?”

  Quinn shook his head. “I was confused. I had a concussion and a bad cut on my leg. When reinforcements arrived I was too out of it to issue orders. By the time I got my head on straight it was far too late to mount a search.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “I think he was probably injured and hurt like me but managed to get on his feet,” Quinn answered, his voice strained. “I think he tried to go for help and headed in the wrong direction. He either died in the desert or was taken captive. I’m not sure which outcome is worse.”

  “In theory, he could still be alive.”

  “That was five years ago. If he was still alive and being held prisoner he probably wishes he was dead. Trust me. Sometimes dead is better.”

  Rowan mutely nodded, her heart going out to him. She wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed, at a loss for what to say. Thankfully Quinn saved her from the ordeal, shaking himself out of his reverie and gracing her with a small smile.

  “I love walking in the rain,” he volunteered. “I have since I was a kid. I love storms, too, although they’re not a lot of fun at sea. When I’m on land, though, I like nothing better than sitting in a chair and watching a storm rage.”

  “I like storms, too,” Rowan admitted. “I like putting horror movies on when they hit, though.”

  “You’re an odd woman.”

  “Something tells me you like that.”

  “Something tells me you’re right.” Quinn shifted his face so his lips were inches from Rowan’s. He had an opening – finally! – and he intended to use it. He lowered his mouth, his lips practically grazing hers, and then a petrified scream split the night air.

  Quinn jerked back his head, eliciting a disappointed groan. He didn’t have a chance to dwell on the lost chance, though, because another scream assailed his ears and he found himself running in the direction of the noise before he could register what almost happened.

  Rowan followed closely at his heels, confused. Her heart pounded due to her proximity with Quinn a few moments before while her head reeled with worry because of the screaming.

  Quinn pulled up short when he caught sight of a flailing figure next to the railing at the aft side of the ship.
He recognized Daphne DuBois right away. She had her hand pressed to the spot over her heart and she looked deranged as she swiveled her head from side to side.

  “What’s going on?” Quinn asked, stepping forward and catching Daphne’s eye.

  “Someone tried to kill me,” Daphne gasped, taking two lurching steps away from the railing and throwing her arms around Quinn’s neck.

  Quinn caught her out of reflex, his skin recoiling at the woman’s touch. Duty outweighed dislike, however, and he didn’t attempt to dislodge her. “How did they try to kill you?”

  “They tried to throw me over the deck.” Daphne buried her face in Quinn’s neck and clung to him. “I didn’t see a face, although I’m pretty sure it was a woman. A big woman, mind you, but a woman all the same. I swear I smelled perfume. It was a very cheap perfume, if that helps.”

  “What happened?” Rowan asked, swallowing her dislike of Daphne.

  “She came out of the darkness,” Daphne replied. “She had a hood over her face and I couldn’t see who she was. She took me by surprise and I opened my mouth to say something but … it was too late. She ran at me and tried to throw me over the railing.”

  “Where is she now?” Quinn asked, glancing around. He hadn’t seen a hint of movement from anyone other than Daphne when he rounded the corner.

  “She took off when I screamed,” Daphne replied. “Oh, my heavens! I almost died! This is just the worst thing to happen ever.” The woman tightened her arms around Quinn’s neck and burst into hysterical tears. “What is this world coming to? I’m lucky to be alive. It’s a miracle.”

  6

  Six

  Daphne was such a mess that she refused to release Quinn when more security details arrived. Despite his best efforts, Quinn found himself entangled. He could’ve sworn Daphne had at least eight of them given how many times she caught him during potential escape attempts.

  Eventually Rowan offered a smile and curt nod, saying she was going to retire for the evening before shuffling off. Quinn watched her go, anger coursing through him. In his head he knew he shouldn’t be angry with Daphne. She seemed legitimately upset, although she was obviously playing to a certain crowd once she realized she was drawing an audience. In his heart, though, Quinn couldn’t help but curse the woman for her theatrics. If she’d waited thirty seconds – even ten seconds, for crying out loud – he would’ve been able to kiss Rowan. He had a feeling he would feel much better about Daphne’s octopus Olympics if he had that memory to cherish.

  “I think we’ve done everything we can for the night,” Quinn said, taking a step away from Daphne. “You should probably return to your room and have a drink or something to settle your nerves. Everything will be better in the morning.”

  “Better?” Daphne arched an incredulous eyebrow. “Someone tried to kill me. How are things going to get better?”

  Quinn stared back, unblinking. “Well, you won’t be dead.”

  Daphne rolled her eyes. “I’ll have business cards printed up with that on them. It will be my new motto.”

  “Whatever floats your boat.” Quinn stepped to the side and focused on one of his men. “I want regular rounds on this deck twenty-four hours a day. I want one man on each side making regular passes. Come up with a schedule.”

  The man nodded. “I’ll email you as soon as we’re done, sir.”

  “Great.” Quinn turned to leave, but Daphne grabbed his wrist before he could. He was almost at the limit of his patience and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out at her. “Do you need something?”

  “Do I need something? Of course I need something.”

  “Who are you talking to when you repeat my questions back to me like that?” Quinn challenged, snark winning out.

  “I’m talking to you.” Daphne’s voice was firm as she smoothed her hair. Despite everything – a struggle to stay on deck when someone was trying to throw her overboard, a steady amount of rain – her hair remained perfectly coiffed.

  “Ms. DuBois, it’s getting late,” Quinn pointed out. “I need to fill out some paperwork on the incident and then I want to turn in early because I’m sure I will have meetings regarding what happened first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “I understand that you have a job to do,” Daphne sniffed. “It’s just … I’m very unsettled. I was hoping you could walk me back to my room and … I don’t know … sit with me a bit.”

  Quinn’s eyebrows winged up his forehead. That was the last thing he wanted to do. “Sit with you?”

  Daphne widened her eyes and blinked rapidly, as if she was trying to muster tears. “I’m afraid. You’re the head of security. I think the only way I’ll feel safe is if you’re with me … all night.”

  She threw in that last part as if it were some sort of bonus. Quinn was done messing around, however. He calmly extricated his arm from her grip, extended a warning finger when she moved to grab him again, and firmly shook his head.

  “Ma’am, I understand you’ve had a trying experience tonight and I don’t want to belittle that.” Quinn chose his words carefully and adopted a stern face. “The fact remains that I have a job to do. I cannot let you interfere with that job.

  “Now, if you’re truly afraid, I can have one of my men position himself outside your door this evening,” he continued. “It would be unprofessional for that man to be in your room, however, so you’ll have to make do with your own company or that of one of your workers.” That wasn’t exactly true, but Quinn didn’t want to unjustly punish one of his employees, and he could think of nothing worse than being trapped in a tiny room with Daphne DuBois.

  “I have paperwork that has to be filed,” Quinn added. “I have things that have to be attended to tomorrow. I’m sorry that you’re frightened and feel uneasy regarding your surroundings – I truly am – but I cannot sit with you all night.”

  “Fine.” Daphne’s eyes filled with fire. “Do whatever you need to do. Far be it from me to stand in your way.”

  “That’s my plan, ma’am.” Quinn ignored her tone – and murderous expression – as he turned away from her. He was only a few feet away when he was forced to pull up short because he saw Demarcus watching the scene with unveiled amusement. “This is hardly funny.”

  “I think that depends on which direction you’re coming from,” Demarcus countered. “From where I’m at, well, this is downright hilarious.”

  “I’m glad you’re having a good time.” Quinn ran a frustrated hand over the top of his short-cropped hair as he glanced around the deck. “This is so weird. I don’t know what to think.”

  Demarcus widened his eyes, surprised. “Do you think she’s making it up?” He kept his voice low. “I wouldn’t put it past her given all of the stories I’ve heard.”

  “I’m actually curious about those stories, but I’m going to have to wait until tomorrow morning to listen to them,” Quinn said, sighing. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Rowan, have you?”

  “She went back to her cabin.”

  “I know but … .”

  “You thought she might wait out here for you?” Demarcus’ eyes twinkled. “Does your heart hurt because she didn’t wait for you?”

  “My heart does hurt,” Quinn confirmed. “Not because of that, though.” He exhaled heavily through his nose as he tried to center himself. “This entire thing sucks. It’s weird … I hate these women … and I really wish I could’ve finished my walk with Rowan instead of dealing with this. I know that sounds selfish given the circumstances but … there it is.”

  Demarcus didn’t bother to hide his mirth. “I don’t blame you. That brings me back to my previous question, though. Do you think she faked the attack?”

  Quinn shrugged, unsure how to answer. “Let’s just say I’m not completely believing her story and leave it at that for now.”

  “Got it.” Demarcus mock-saluted. “So what are you going to do?”

  “File some paperwork and go to bed. There’s not much else I can do.”<
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  “Okay, well … I’m sorry your date with Rowan got cut short.”

  “It wasn’t technically a date,” Quinn argued. “It was, however, a lost opportunity. If I don’t kiss her soon I swear I’m going to rip someone’s face off. Right now, Daphne DuBois has the unfortunate honor of being the person I want to do that to because she totally ruined my chance.”

  Instead of laughing like Quinn envisioned, Demarcus opened his mouth and quietly worked his jaw. The gesture was enough to make Quinn unnaturally defensive. “What?”

  “You haven’t kissed her yet?” Demarcus was incredulous.

  Quinn jolted at the question and looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Do you mind keeping your voice down?”

  “What is the matter with you? You’re straight, right?”

  Quinn scowled. “What is the matter with you? My kissing habits are none of your business.”

  “Apparently they’re none of anyone’s business.” Demarcus leaned forward conspiratorially. “Do you need some tips to seal the deal? I can probably help you if you’re desperate.”

  “Oh, that did it!” Quinn threw his hands up in the air and stormed away from a chuckling Demarcus. He knew the man was messing with him, but the jabs hit close to home.

  “Say hello to Rowan for me,” Demarcus called to his back. “Actually … don’t say anything at all. The second she opens the door, plant one on her. You’re a manly man. Remember that.”

  “Thanks, Demarcus. I’ve got it.” Quinn didn’t bother turning around.

  Sally, who had been loitering in the shadows during the discussion, stepped out and fixed Demarcus with a pointed look. “I thought we agreed to let them work things out on their own.”

  “We did.” Demarcus was sheepish. “The boy needs help, though. He’s stumbling all over himself.”

  Sally sighed. “Fine. Don’t make a habit of it, though. It will be more special if they stumble through this messy game of life on their own terms.”

  “I’m not sure how much fun that will be for Rowan.”

  “Yes, well … .” Sally let her eyes drift toward the door Quinn disappeared through. “He really hasn’t kissed her yet? Rowan left that part out of our discussion the other day.”