Beachcomber Investigations
Beachcomber Investigations series Book 2
By Stephanie Queen
Sample Chapters
Chapter 1
Shana darted a glance at Dane leaning on the doorjamb, oozing his ridiculous brand of sensuality, all casual and strong. Visits to the hospital were usually nausea-inducing events in her life experience, but this visit had a whole different vibe. With all her might she resisted crediting Dane with the reality-defying mood she felt standing in the middle of this room, immune to the scent of antiseptics wafting around her.
Instead, she refocused and smiled at Cap—Captain Colin Lynch—lounging against his pillows, all bandaged and sporting a sling and a grin as if the bullet in his shoulder had been a movie prop and he was playing the role of the injured State Police Chief of Martha’s Vineyard—and playing that role poorly.
“You’re not taking your injury very seriously,” she said.
He grinned wider. She squelched a long-suffering sigh, because Cap was not one of her younger brothers even if she scolded him as if he were.
Far from it. He was a hunk of a grown man if she was in the mood for admitting things. Her gaze slid back to Dane as he moved into the room. He eyed her back and gave her that sizzling stare. The one she’d recently become familiar with.
Without thought, her chin rose and she moved closer to Cap as if he would protect her. As if Dane Blaise were a monster. He was—if you thought of legendary war heroes who saved lives routinely—including your own—as monsters.
No. The monster was in her mind. She only felt like he was a threat to her well-being. Overly dramatic maybe, but she felt as if he were wielding a knife, ready to cut her heart out and shred it to pieces. All figuratively, of course.
Cap said, “I don’t need to be serious. You’re plenty serious for all of us. I think I like your Nurse Nightingale side—it’s cute on you.”
“Don’t start with me. It’s probably the meds putting that grin on your face.” Shana reached out and touched Cap’s arm. He was a good man, and luckily the prognosis was good for his arm.
“The meds and the medals. Puts me in the mood to celebrate. I’m told there’s a commendation coming—maybe even a ceremony with some pomp and circumstance.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.” Dane snorted.
“Not even if it’s the governor talking?”
“Especially then.” Dane smiled and shook his head. “Okay—so maybe you will get a medal out of this.”
“Shana will get one too,” Cap said.
He smiled and took hold of the hand she had on his arm. An instant hot alarm went through her and she avoided Dane’s eyes, hoping to God he wouldn’t make a deal out of the touch. It was an innocent touch. She was almost sure of it. There had been nothing between her and Cap. Nothing beyond mild sparks that flashed like firebugs more than fireworks. Nothing like the atomic sparks between her and Dane.
Shana realized then that Dane would be the only one not getting a medal and that he was the one who deserved it most. Cap didn’t seem to care. Dane didn’t seem to care. So why the hell did she care?
“Maybe they’ll have a medal of some kind for you too, Dane—”
“I don’t need a medal. I already have a drawer full. That what you think I’m after?”
Boom. He put her on the defensive when she’d shown concern for him. That’s what she got from Dane when she revealed softness or anything resembling genuine caring.
“Don’t worry about Dane. He’s getting a pile of money,” Cap said.
“Money? Is that what this is all about to you?” she asked, turning to Dane.
Her chin jutted higher and her heartbeat picked up a notch as if there were something at stake in his answer. As if she wasn’t sure of the answer. It wasn’t all about covering up the soft spot.
“That what you think, girlie? You think I’m in it for the money?” Dane had a gleam in his eye.
It was a test question. She let out a breath and smiled. They were back to the even playing field of a seesaw. Endless sparring. No real punches allowed. And absolutely no real caring. No softness. They couldn’t be bumped out of their rut by real emotion. It might kill or at least maim one of them, possibly both.
“No, not the money. You’re in it for the glory. I’ll make you a medal. I have some tin foil I can use—”
He moved so fast she stopped mid-breath. His arms enveloped her in a hot close circle as she was pulled against his solid body by arms that may as well have been made of steel. He swept her away from Cap’s bed and bent his head toward hers. When she thought he would kiss her, he instead nuzzled her earlobe and took a deep breath.
Then he said, “You know the only reward I want is the girl. And in case you didn’t realize it, this time that means you.”
His breath was hot and goose bumps rose on her skin everywhere, erasing all her instincts for self-protection. She closed her eyes to stop the spin and her knees felt rubbery and in danger of collapse. Everything in her wanted to take him inside and claim him. She was far too vulnerable—
Her eyes opened. “Wait—what do you mean—this time?”
“You know—another case, another girl.”
He let her go and the devilish grin on his face told her he was kidding. Maybe. She pushed him away, aware of Cap watching, and turned her attention back to him. To hell with Dane Blaise’s medal and his money and his—whatever the hell else made him tick.
“I’m with you, Cap,” she said. “We do this for honor and justice and—”
“Bullshit,” Dane cut in and moved to her side again, so that their bodies were touching hip to hip and she could feel his heat simmering against her. “You’re a pair of adrenaline junkies if I ever saw one.”
“Hah. And you’re not?” Cap said.
“Leave me out of that category,” Shana said. “I want to protect and serve as much as the next girl, but I could have done without the knives and guns.”
“You referred to yourself as a girl,” Dane said. His face was mostly neutral but, to her surprise, shaded with disappointment.
“You’re rubbing off on her, Blaise. She needs a vacation from you—”
“The hell she does.”
“Neither of you gets to decide what I need.” Her voice was light, but the problem was heavy. She had no idea what she needed.
“What are you going to do next?” Cap asked.
“She’s putting in with me. I’m going legit,” Dane said. “Sticking around the island. Decided this morning. I turned down a mission in Haiti.”
She looked at Dane and then at Cap whose jaw hung open like he didn’t know what to say. Her head buzzed. She knew this meant something, but didn’t know what.
“So what are you going to do?” she said as she wrapped her mind around the possibility. “Security? Private investigating? You’re serious about a partnership?”
“Unlike other men you may have met in your brief past, girlie, I’m not all talk. I say something, I mean it. I’m setting up as an investigator. Beachcomber Investigations. You want in?”
“In?”
“So you’re saying it was all talk with you—how we work well together, make good partners—”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. But I have a job. You know, with Scotland Yard?”
She let her sarcasm shield her nerves. The swirling in her mind was becoming too regular in Dane’s presence. She concentrated on her words and said, “David Young said he was having me permanently transferred to his staff with the Scotland Yard Exchange program out of Boston, so I thought—”
“You thought you’d be close by and that would be a good compromise.” Dane’s voice was flat and his statement dead-on accurate.
She said nothing. She felt Cap watching them both.
“What are you looking at?” she said to Cap as if she were ten years old in the schoolyard.
She felt pathetic lashing out at a bystander when she didn’t know how else to defend herself. She felt too vulnerable. Too inexperienced. Too out of her league. And yet….
She did not want to leave Dane Blaise. This man was her albatross and she idolized him. Adored him. Needed him. Wanted him.
*****
Cap laughed. “Good question.”
Dane’s phone buzzed in his back pocket and he slipped it out to read the message. It wasn’t good news. His gut clenched, but he refrained from swearing out loud. Didn’t even blink. He looked up. There was no need to tell Shana. Not the way things stood. Nowhere.
Cap and Shana both looked a question at him. He shrugged and slipped the phone back into his pocket, but he felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. He needed some space to talk to Cap.
The TV buzzed in the background. Shana examined the card on a vase of flowers and bent to smell them.
He nodded at Cap. Cap nodded back. He knew the signal.
“Shana could you do me a big favor and get me a diet Pepsi from the machine down the hall?” Cap asked.
“Sure. Be right back.” Shana scrunched her eyes at Dane.
He knew their discussion about her staying or going would continue back at the beach shack. In private. She sashayed out the door, passing in whiffing distance so he almost had to hold his breath not to be drawn by her scent.
When she left the room, he said, “There’s been a threat to the unit.”
He didn’t have to tell Cap what unit. They’d all served under Peter John Douglas back before he was the Governor of Massachusetts. Peter was the leader of the Special Forces unit they’d both served in, though Cap was younger and had only caught the tail end of their run after Dane had been shipped out to serve his remaining days at Walter Reed Medical.
“What is it?”
“A bullet. Acer.”
“Jesus—he’s okay?”
Dane nodded.
“How the hell did anyone find Acer, of all people?”
“That’s the thing. No one could. Has to be an inside—”
Cap started to protest, but Dane put a hand up and continued speaking.
“Inside leak. Peter is the most visible of us all. We all knew there would be a risk when he became governor. His service history is an open book. Someone with a grudge got inside and found something about Acer’s whereabouts.”
“Do we have any idea who took the shot?”
“Someone with sniper skills.”
