Raging Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 9) Read online

  That wasn’t the only thing Quinn loved about mornings, though. He also enjoyed the fact that she was always warm and snuggly. Being slow on the uptake, she was also perfectly fine resting with her head on his chest in silence. There was an intimacy to the time that Quinn was convinced most others wouldn’t be able to understand. He did, though, and he looked forward to waking up every single day.

  “Your mind is making too much noise,” Rowan murmured as she shifted. It was the first sign she’d shown all morning that she was awake.

  “How do you know my mind is making too much noise?”

  “I could hear it in my dreams.”

  He chuckled. “What does my mind sound like?”

  “The prettiest instrumental music I’ve ever heard.”

  “Oh.” He was charmed despite himself. “That’s kind of sweet.” He poked her side. “How did you sleep?”

  They spent a good hour on the deck the previous evening, sharing the lounger and sipping beers neither of them particularly wanted. They both had a lot on their minds. Upon returning to the room, Quinn did his best to get her to forget her problems. He knew her subconscious wouldn’t be quiet in sleep, though. The mounting problems — which often felt insurmountable at times — probably tracked her through dreams that should’ve been much happier.

  “I slept fine.” Rowan smiled at him, but the expression didn’t make it all the way to her eyes.

  “How did you sleep?” he repeated, firm.

  She sighed, the sound long and drawn out. “I slept okay. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to fall apart.”

  “I don’t believe that’s what I asked.” Quinn pulled back his head so he could meet her steady eyes. “How did you sleep? It’s fine to share as many details as you’re comfortable with.”

  His tone grated even though she knew he had the best of intentions. “I slept okay at the start,” she snapped. “I passed out right away and it was a deep sleep. Then it turned more restless in the middle of the night. I had dreams about shadowy figures chasing me through the corridors in the lower levels.

  “Now, I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, her agitation coming out to play. “I should’ve been safe on the lower levels because only people with keycards can get in there. I didn’t feel safe, though. People were chasing me — two or three people — and I couldn’t lose them. I’m pretty sure I know what that dream means and I’m not surprised I had it.”

  Her eyes flashed with potential mayhem as she glared. “There. Are you happy with the details?”

  He studied her face for a long beat without answering. Somehow he’d managed to push her to the point of no return in two minutes flat. That had to be a new record. He didn’t want to upset her. That was the last thing he wanted. He was, however, determined to take care of her.

  “If you ever get trapped down there, go to my office,” he replied finally. “There’s a hidden security closet behind that shelf because of the weapons. There’s more than enough room for you to hide in there.”

  Rowan worked her jaw. “It was a dream.”

  “Yes, but your anxiety is obviously high. I don’t blame you.” He shifted so he could kiss her forehead. “I’ll make sure you have a security pass that grants you access to my office and the gun room if you need it. That should give you two layers of security if you need to hide. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

  Rowan’s mouth dropped open. “That’s all you have to say? You don’t want to pick a fight with me over my attitude?”

  “No.” He was calm, matter-of-fact. “You’re dealing with a stressful situation. These people are invading your turf. Say what you want, despite the fact that you’ve only been here several months, this is your home. It’s annoying when someone tries to break into your home. I would’ve been surprised if you didn’t have high-anxiety dreams.”

  His relaxed reaction only made Rowan want to fight with him more. “You’re ticking me off.”

  “I know.” That was the truth. He could tell that he was angering her with every word uttered. He simply didn’t know how to fix things. “I don’t mean to. I just ... want to take care of you. I’m afraid you’ll keep things from me in an effort to protect me. That’s not what I want. We should share everything.”

  “Everything?” Rowan was dubious. “I don’t think it’s possible for people to share everything.”

  “Try me.”

  “Okay. Right now I’m kind of in a pickle because I’m warm and I love cuddling with you. I have to pee, though. If I move the wrong way, my bladder might make me pay. That makes me think about what would happen if I accidentally wet the bed and how I would taint our relationship for life. So, I’m trying to figure a graceful way to exit the bed without upsetting you because I know you like your snuggle time in the morning.”

  Instead of being put off, Quinn barked out a laugh. “Is it any wonder that I fell for you practically the first moment I saw you?” He cupped her chin and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Go to the bathroom. After that, we’ll shower and head down to breakfast. I want to be up and about before most of the guests so we can position ourselves in the dining room to watch where the Phoenix Society folks are seated. I want to be the one watching them enter a room for a change.”

  Rowan arched an eyebrow. “You really don’t like them.”

  “I don’t like that they’re a threat to you. Plus ... I don’t like Spencer. I’ve barely met the man, but I can tell he’s full of himself. I don’t want him playing in my pool.”

  She tilted her head, considering. “Do you want me playing in your pool?”

  “See, you and I are a unit. We share a pool.”

  “That’s kind of sweet.”

  “I’m a sweet guy.” He leaned close and graced her with a kiss so soft it made her ache. “Now, go to the bathroom so we can get ready. If we can swing by the suite rooms to see your father and uncle before they leave, that might be a good idea, too.”

  Rowan nodded, thoughtful. “I’m sorry for jumping all over you this morning. I don’t mean to be a grouch. I’m just not used to this. It’s like living in a fishbowl.”

  “I know. I’m not angry. I promise not to take it personally if you lash out here and there. You need to express your frustration and it’s better if you do it in the privacy of this room. I’m okay absorbing the bulk of your anger.”

  He sounded rational, which only made Rowan feel worse. “I’m not okay with it,” she countered, shaking her head. “I love you. I’ve never been this happy. You do everything for me. I don’t want to be mean to you.”

  “I don’t consider it being mean. You’re just ... wound a little tight right now. In truth, so am I. We’re the perfect pair. We’re going to get through this.” He made a face when his phone chirped on the nightstand. “Geez. So much for the lazy shower I had in mind.”

  Rowan couldn’t stop herself from smiling as he reached for his phone. “You want to do it again? You’re feeling pretty active since the Phoenix Society landed. Is there something you want to tell me?”

  He grinned. “Yes. My name is Quinn and I like having sex when I’m anxious. It calms me down.”

  “I think you like having sex regardless.”

  “That, too.” He frowned when he read his text message. “Well ... crap.”

  Rowan recognized the change in his tone. “Do I even want to know?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted, rolling his neck. “They found a body on the main deck.”

  Whatever she was expecting, that wasn’t it. Rowan pushed back so she could sit and relieve some of the pressure on her bladder. “I don’t understand.”

  Quinn wasn’t sure he did either. “There’s a dead woman on the deck. She was just discovered by the overnight crew. I need to get up there.”

  “But ... how could someone die?” Rowan was thrown for a loop. “I didn’t see an omen in anybody’s photograph. I swear it. I looked close.”

  “Maybe our dead woman didn’t get he
r photograph taken,” Quinn noted. “Twenty-five percent of the guests opt to avoid the initial photograph. She could’ve been the type who didn’t want a cheesy photo in front of a cardboard backdrop.”

  Rowan narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “I never take cheesy photographs.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from snorting at her adamant expression. “Of course not. Every photo you take is an artistic dream.” He shifted his legs to climb out of bed. “We’ll have to talk about this later. For now, I have to get up there. I need to shower fast so I’ll be doing it alone. You can follow when you’re ready.”

  Rowan nodded absently. “I wonder what happened.”

  That’s the direction Quinn’s mind was floating, too. “I don’t know. This is the last thing we need given everything that’s going on, though.”

  Rowan didn’t say it out loud, but she was thinking the exact same thing.

  QUINN HAD BEEN HARD AT WORK for forty-five minutes by the time Rowan joined him on the deck. No matter how she tried to hurry, there were certain tasks that simply took a long time ... like blow drying her hair.

  Quinn was surrounded by his security personnel when she joined the group amassing on the front deck. The guests were clearly interested in what was happening before the barrier Quinn’s men had set up to keep them from trampling over a potential crime scene. She made a coughing noise to get his attention. When he didn’t look in her direction, she called out his name.

  Quinn shifted in her direction and motioned for her to cross the line. The gathered guests whispered amongst themselves as she closed the distance and she could hear a few of the excited exhalations. People were buzzing about a body being found. There would be no keeping this discovery secret.

  “I need you to take photos of her before I can haul her to the medical wing,” Quinn explained. “We need to record the scene and then get her out of here before more guests start showing up.”

  Rowan quickly grabbed her camera and started shooting without further prompting. Before becoming a cruise ship photographer, she worked for a local newspaper in Michigan. She’d covered her fair share of crime stories and had long since gotten over being squeamish when it came to photographing bodies.

  “Do we know who she is?” Rowan asked as she circled to a different angle so she could catch the woman’s face. She was face down, her eyes open and sightless as they looked to the east. Two fingernails looked to be missing, probably broken off in a fight, and her auburn hair was a mass of tangles. “Oh, so weird,” she muttered, making a tsking sound with her tongue.

  “What’s weird?” Quinn queried absently. His mind was going a mile a minute as he organized his thoughts and to-do list.

  “From behind, her hair looks like mine.”

  He stilled, something occurring to him. “Oh, geez.” He moved to stand next to Rowan, his eyes going wide when he realized she was right. “I talked to this woman last night. She thought I was hitting on her.”

  Rowan made a face as she lowered the camera and slid her gaze to him. “When did you have time to hit on someone?”

  Quinn scowled. “I didn’t hit on anyone,” he promised. “I was in the tiki bar getting beers. When I turned, I saw her from behind. I thought she was you. I didn’t pay any attention to the outfit she was wearing. I asked what you were doing because I said I would be right back and when she turned, it was obvious she wasn’t you. Then she tried to flirt with me.”

  Rowan screwed her face up in a look of annoyance. “What is it with you and women? They just fall to their feet whenever they see you.”

  “I don’t know. Why did you fall to your feet when you saw me?”

  “Hey. I waited like two days before falling at your feet. I was strong.”

  Her reaction made his lips curve. Then he remembered himself ... and the fact that they were standing over a dead body. “I didn’t talk to her for more than a few minutes,” he supplied. “I thought she was you. When I realized she wasn’t, I said my goodbyes and returned to you on the deck. She invited me to stay, but I’m nothing if not faithful.”

  Rowan rolled her eyes. She recognized he was trying to lighten the mood but now wasn’t the time. “How did she die?”

  Quinn sobered. “I’m pretty sure she was strangled.” He hunkered down and pointed so she would know where he wanted photographs taken. “Make sure you get every angle of her neck. Do you see the bruising pattern there? It’s clear someone wrapped a set of hands around her neck and squeezed.”

  Rowan made a face at the imagery but dutifully snapped away. “When do you think it happened?”

  “We’re going to need the medical examiner to decide that. It had to be after dinner.” He turned to Lance Buttons, the security guard who had found her as he was finishing up his shift. “When was the last time you guys crossed through this section before discovering her?”

  Lance pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked. “It looks like we were here around one in the morning, a little before. After that we walked every corridor and then swung back around to the deck. Everything was quiet last night so we weren’t too worried.”

  “So she definitely wasn’t here before one,” Quinn mused, pity washing over him as he studied the woman. Up close, she didn’t resemble Rowan at all. He remembered thinking the hair belonged to her the previous night, though, and a nasty suspicion took hold in his gut. “We need to get her downstairs. Ro, have you finished your photos?”

  “Just a few more.” Rowan stood and quickly started snapping again. She worked tirelessly for five minutes and then indicated the security guards could pack up the body and take it below deck. She moved closer to Quinn when she finished and blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Do you think she was killed because she looks like me?”

  Quinn almost fell over. “No. Why would you say that?” His response was shriller than he intended.

  “Because her hair was similar enough that you mistook her for me from behind,” Rowan replied calmly. She refused to engage in another fight. One a morning was her limit. “If you were fooled, think how easy it would’ve been for a member of the Phoenix Society to be confused.”

  Quinn didn’t like where her head was. “I don’t want you blaming yourself. You didn’t do this. You’re not responsible.”

  Rowan was unnaturally calm as she fixed him with a pointed look. “If she was killed because she looked like me, who else should I blame?”

  “Now, you listen here—”

  She fervently shook her head to cut him off. “You can’t wiggle your fingers and make this one go away,” she pointed out. “If she was killed because someone mistook her for me, then it’s my fault.”

  “No. It’s not.” Quinn was adamant. “You didn’t cause this. You’re not to blame.”

  “Then who is to blame?”

  “Whoever did this.” Quinn gestured toward the body as it was lifted on a gurney and immediately covered to keep the guests from snapping photographs. “You need motive for blame. You didn’t have motive, so you’re not to blame.”

  “I don’t think that will hold up in a court of law.”

  “I don’t really care.” Stubborn until the end, Quinn folded his arms over his chest. “If you keep blaming yourself for this, we’re going to have issues.”

  Oddly enough, his cranky response made Rowan feel better. “I won’t blame myself if you don’t do the same. I know you’re going to wonder if there’s something you could’ve done to save her. Just for the record, I already know there wasn’t. It is what it is.”

  “Yeah.” Quinn forced a smile. “I need to start digging on this. We don’t even know what went down. We could be jumping to conclusions.”

  “We could,” Rowan agreed. She was doubtful that was the case, but she kept her opinion to herself. Why add to an already tense morning?

  Quinn was secretly happy when she didn’t expand on the statement. He was already thinking the same thing. Nothing would convince him the woman didn’t die because she looked like
Rowan. It was way too much of a coincidence considering what was going on.

  That meant Rowan was a potential victim moving forward, and he would fight to the death to make sure nobody got close enough to end her like someone had this poor woman. He would protect her with his last breath ... and then love her for the eternity beyond.

  6

  Six

  Her name was Deborah Little. She was on the cruise with a group of friends following a divorce. It was a supposed to be a “sisters before misters” outing. That’s what the friends told Quinn anyway.

  All of them were devastated.

  “I don’t understand how this happened,” Abby Cross said, swiping at a tear on her cheek. “I just ... don’t understand.”

  Unfortunately for her, Quinn didn’t have acceptable answers. “We’re not sure yet. We’re obviously looking into it.”

  “Will you turn around now? Are we heading back to port?”

  It was a reasonable question. Of course, Quinn didn’t have a satisfactory answer. “No. We have to stick to our schedule. Arrangements will be made for you and the others at our first port. The body has to stay on the ship until we can transport it back to Florida.”

  Abby’s shocked expression reflected abject horror. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re going to make us go on vacation?”

  “There is protocol in these situations.”

  “You have protocol for dead bodies found on your ships? I wish I would’ve known that before I booked.”

  Quinn didn’t take the outrage personally. In fact, he couldn’t blame her for being upset. If he were in her shoes, he would be causing a scene. “I’m sorry.” It was a lame response, but it was all he had. “I know this isn’t ideal. The cruise line will pay for you and your friends to fly back to the states. Once we return to port, we need to transport the body to the proper authorities. It can’t leave our care in case they need to conduct their own investigation. There are chain of custody issues at play.”