P. Alderman - A Killing Tide

"I haven't been on the run." He gave Michael a hard look. "You get Kaz out of town, now . This mess is about to blow wide open."

#

Kaz made herbal tea and scrounged together a sandwich for Gary. When she entered the living room with the tray, Michael and Gary were talking quietly.

"It's our speculation that the fishermen are running drugs," Michael was saying.

Gary accepted a mug from Kaz and nodded. "Ken figured it out before I did."

"Did he steal drug money to pay for Bobby's treatments?" she asked.

"Yeah, the fool. And he paid the consequences. I tried to talk him into giving the money back, although I wasn't sure it would save his sorry hide. But he'd already used some of it. After the second time they beat him up and threatened to go after his family, he gave the rest of the money to me to put in the locker." He shot an exasperated look at Kaz. "And then you had to go looking for it."

"I figured if you had something they wanted, the locker was the logical place to hide it."

"Yeah, and that analytical mind of yours put you right in the line of fire." He took a bite from his sandwich. "Cutting the lines on the pots was a warning. They'll threaten your life, next."

"They already have," Michael said and told him about the ultimatum she'd been given. "Who else besides Bjorn in the fishing community knows about my background?"

Gary paused from wolfing down the rest of the sandwich to give him a curious look. "Pretty much everyone. Why?"

"Because I think someone's counting on your instinctive distrust of me as a newcomer to slow down the investigation." He shrugged. "And it's not the first time someone I care about has been targeted."

Kaz frowned. She hadn't even considered that angle. Lucy hadn't told her the real source of the rumors about Michael—just that the cops had been talking about him. But Bjorn had clearly known the details of Michael's background; he'd indicated as much when they'd talked to him earlier in the evening.

Gary's expression was speculative. "Even if you're right, it doesn't help us unless you can figure out who's been checking you out."

Michael nodded. "I've got a call in to a buddy of mine back East. I should hear back from him in the morning. Who told you about me?"

"Bjorn." Gary frowned. "But he could've heard it from any number of people."

Michael shrugged. "I'll find out, sooner or later. In the meantime, I won't have Kaz at risk because you get off playing the vigilante. You need to turn yourself in, tell the cops everything you know."

Gary set aside his empty plate. "If I do that, I'm as good as dead."

"I can get you protective custody," Michael insisted.

Gary shook his head. "That won't stop them."

Kaz placed a hand on his knee. "At least tell us who's involved. Give us something to go on."

"No." Gary got up and started pacing. "I'm close. I only need one more day to put it all together."

"Is Karl Svensen involved?"

Gary rounded on her. "You stay away from Svensen and his crews. They don't have any loyalty to us, and they won't lift a finger to help you."

"So that's what the fight was about six months ago, and why Svensen never pressed charges. Ken had found out what Karl was doing, and Karl threatened him. You stepped in to protect Ken."

"I didn't know what was going on, but yeah. Svensen took a swing at Ken, and I stopped him. At the time, it surprised the hell out of me when he refused to press charges." Gary growled in frustration. "Dammit, Kaz, haven't you heard anything I've said? They'll kill you without even flinching."

"Who else is in on it?" Michael demanded. "Either tell us what you know, or I call the cops now. Jackson is right outside."

Gary abruptly sighed and sat down. "I'll talk if you promise to take Kaz out of the equation."

"Done."

"Hey!" They both ignored her.

"They're using the Redemption as their meeting place," Gary told Michael. "The back room. And yes, before you ask," he said to Kaz, "Steve is in on it. I don't know what they have on him, something that happened around the time of his divorce. He's turning a blind eye to the meetings. He could finger every damn one of them if he wanted, but I can't get him to talk. I searched Svensen's boat, but I didn't find anything, other than some notations in the ship's log that could've been drop-off points."

He shook his head. "Bjorn's in the clear, but I think he knows what's going on. If he does, he's not saying, and I don't blame him. He's got his kids to think about. The supplier is someone off shore, probably a Triad offshoot. The buyer's right here in Astoria. Most of the drugs are going up-river, only a small amount is staying here in town."

"Who's the buyer?" Michael asked.

"No one you can do anything about. He's set up so well no one can touch him—at least, so far, but Jacobsen and I are planning to follow Karl and observe the hand-off, then take the information to the right people. And that's all I'll tell you. Now will you please get Kaz the hell out of town? I can't finish this unless I know she's safe." He pinned Michael with a hard glare. "If you're sleeping with her, the least you can do is take care of her."

"You're jumping to the wrong—" Kaz started, but Michael cut her off.

"My intentions are honorable," he said evenly. "And I resent the implication that I would use her in any way."

"You moved in awfully fast after I split. I'm not happy about that."

"Get used to it," Michael suggested. "I'm not willing to let her get hurt again."

Gary hesitated, then nodded. "Fair enough. But if you've taken advantage of her in any way—"

"Oh, for God's sake," Kaz exploded. "Will you two listen to each other? You sound like we're living in Regency England. I've been taking care of myself for a long time. If someone doesn't recognize that, and damn quickly, I'll throw you both out of the house."

The men exchanged a "see what I have to put up with" look.

Gary stood and handed Kaz his empty mug. "Twenty-four hours, that's all I need." His expression turned wry. "At least try to keep her out of my way during that time."

Michael nodded, then added, "I still think you should go to the cops."

"Not yet."

#

Michael closed the back door and leaned against it, watching her clean up the dishes with an expression she couldn't fathom. Unaccountably nervous, she grabbed the dish towel and dried off the counter around the sink.

He pushed away from the door, walking slowly toward her. She backed up, saying the first thing that came to mind. "I can't believe you two, thinking you can make a plan to 'take care of me' without even asking me what I want."

He shrugged, but kept coming toward her. "We know what's best in this situation—you don't."

"Bullshit." She backed up another step, her retreat abruptly stopped by the edge of the counter. Lifting her chin, she said, "I make the decisions concerning my life."

"Not this time." He came to a stop in front of her and looked down at her, his silvery gaze heated. "Quit using the issue of your independence to dodge the real issue here."

She swallowed. "What real issue?"

"Whether I'm taking you back upstairs."

In an instant, she went cold, then hot. She could think of a thousand reasons why this wasn't a good idea. They had a killer closing in, maybe even waiting nearby for the perfect moment to strike. Chuck was in the hospital, in critical condition. And Gary was out there somewhere, laying a trap, taking God knew what kind of risks.

Michael took one more step, invading her personal space. Her mind blanked. All she could think about was the strength and heat of his body, and how much she wanted to explore it. It was pure insanity, but she couldn't seem to make herself care.

Leaning over, he braced his hands on either side of her. His face was only inches from hers, his expression rigid from tension. "Am I?"