Radclyffe - Wild Shores

“You’re pushing me to a place I don’t like to go,” Eloise said, “considering we don’t have any visible signs of a leak at the surface or, if I’m getting the correct information from your Dr. Spencer, in any underwater currents.”

“We don’t, yet ,” Austin said, “but I don’t think anyone in this room will bet against that happening soon. And when it does, we have to be able to show appropriate intervention and full disclosure well ahead of the spill.”

“Very well,” Eloise said, her fury a cold and lethal blade. “I’ll contact the authorities. Be prepared to coordinate. Hopefully the storm will at least keep the reporters away for a while longer.”

“I’ll need to contact the Coast Guard and the research team at the sanctuary.”

“First let me handle it at our level. Then you can contact the locals.”

Austin gritted her teeth. Translation: Eloise would deal with the bureaucrats, because that’s where the political pressure would come from. The individuals on the front line would have to wait. “Let me know as soon as you’ve made your statement. Then I’ll set up a joint briefing here.”

“I’ll leave that to you,” Eloise said. “Expect my call within the next few hours.”

“Right.” Austin disconnected and faced the others. Tatum and Reddy looked weary, Claudia contemplative. “We’ve got about an hour or two before the fat hits the fire.”

Claudia tilted her head and gave her a long look. “I don’t think you made her very happy. She would’ve liked it if you had tried to buy her a little more time.”

Austin shrugged. “There isn’t any more time.”

“Tough call,” Tatum said, “but it’s done now.” He glanced at Reddy. “Let’s go back to work.”

“Let me know if the situation changes,” Austin said.

“You’ll be the first to know.”

The men disappeared, and Claudia settled back into her chair in front of the monitors. She continued looking at Austin, a crease between her perfectly arched brows. “If Eloise is inclined to shoot the messenger, your job could be on the line.”

“If it is, it is.” Austin was used to being the messenger bearing bad news and had taken more than a few arrows in similar situations. She wasn’t worried about Eloise—she had no control over what she might do. If Eloise wanted to fire her for the call she’d made, she didn’t really care. She was a lot more concerned about Gem—who was right in the path of a potentially major oil spill, not to mention a hurricane.

Chapter Eighteen

Gem woke to the thrum of her cell phone vibrating on the straight-backed wooden chair she’d placed next to her bed to use as a nightstand. She fumbled for it in the otherworldly darkness of the cabin. Her eyes were open but they might as well have been closed. With no moonlight coming through the window, the blackness was absolute. Her sister’s name flashed almost too brightly across the screen and, blinking, she thumbed accept . “God, what time is it?”

“Half past the witching hour,” Alex grumbled. “Were you sleeping?”

“Of course I was sleeping. It’s the middle of the night and I got almost no sleep last night.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” Gem caught herself. Oh no, she wasn’t going there with Alex. No way was she discussing having sex with a stranger, even if Austin didn’t feel like a stranger, with her sister. Or any kind of sex, for that matter. That ship had sailed along with Paul. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Gem tamped down her impatience. One thing her sister was not was a drama queen. If she was calling in the middle of the night, something was happening. “Alex, you’re not making any sense.”

“We just got an all-sector alert. Everyone is on standby readiness, but we don’t know why.”

“That’s not normal, I guess.”

“Not without a briefing, no.”

“And you’re calling me because?”

“Our sector commander ordered me to head the incident-response team.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“No, I’ve headed up emergency responses countless times. But something’s not right about this one.”

“I know you’re speaking English, but your sentences don’t make any sense to me. What’s off about all of this?”

“When I asked my CO for the mission details, he said we would be briefed ASAP, but that other notifications had to go out, and a task force would be assembled and read-in all at once. He mentioned he wanted me to lead the team because I knew the sanctuary.”

“What about the sanctuary?” Gem was awake now and sat up on the narrow bed. “Is this something related to the storm, do you think?”

“I don’t know, it could be. Projections are now for hurricane category.”

Gem’s heart thudded. The sanctuary could be devastated by a storm of that magnitude. “That’s disaster enough as far as I’m concerned. We’ll have to start making provisions to secure the shoreline. I’m glad you called. We hadn’t gotten that word yet.”

“There’s something more going on, Gem, or we would have gotten more information. You haven’t heard anything? No one has called you?”

Gem checked her phone for missed calls. “No, nothing, but sometimes the service here hiccups. Are you sure your CO wasn’t just making some tangential comment because the sanctuary is in your sector?”

“I don’t think so. You’ll let me know if you hear anything?”

“Of course, and you too. You’ll be careful, won’t you, no matter what it’s about?”

“We’ve got a hurricane coming. It’s going to be a hell of a few days.” Alex sounded a lot more excited than anxious. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Of course I’ll worry. Love you.”

“Love you too. Talk soon.”

After Alex disconnected, Gem stared into the dark, trying to make sense of her sister’s message. If something critical was about to impact the sanctuary, the Coast Guard would definitely be alerted. They were charged with securing the shoreline, not just from illegal activities like drugs and human smuggling, but physically, as in the case of hurricanes. If the coming storm had escalated to hurricane levels, the station responsible for that sector would be involved in the preparations and recovery. That was probably all that was happening.

But why hadn’t she heard anything?

She scanned her messages. A text blinked that hadn’t been there when she’d gone to sleep, and she tapped it.

Sorry. Couldn’t get a signal. All is good. Talk soon. A

The message was completely impersonal, friendly, and no more. But she smiled as her heart fluttered. She’d thought Austin had forgotten to text her—or hadn’t wanted to. She saved the message and added the phone number to her contacts, typing in Austin Germaine along with the number. Somehow doing that made the last few days with Austin seem a little more solid and real. She almost texted back but stopped when she remembered the time. First thing in the morning, she’d send a short message. Just to say hello. That ought to be safe enough.

❖

Austin sat in front of a desk piled with folders, stacks of loose, fingerprint-smudged papers, and a few coffee cups with dregs growing things she’d rather not think about. She crossed her left ankle over her right knee, balanced a pad of drafting paper she’d found in one of the piles on her leg, and sketched facial studies—Gem in various poses—thoughtful, excited, serious, and playful. She longed to capture her face suffused with passion again, but she’d wait until she was alone for that. No rush—she wasn’t about to forget. Her body still burned with hunger for more.