Wild Shores

Chapter Fourteen

Alexis scanned the water ahead of the cutter, checking for smaller vessels, solitary sea forms, and other flotsam and jetsam that didn’t show on sonar or radar. Air temps were warmer than usual for this time of year, and she wore only a light flight jacket, cap, and gloves. On the one hand, it was nice to be able to stand on deck while patrolling without being lacerated by frigid winds, but the high temperatures were a deceptive gift whose price was steep. The unseasonably warm Gulf winds were harbingers of virulent and unpredictable storms that were forecast to be more plentiful and extend later into the fall than during other years.

Tropical storm Norma was thundering down upon them now, big, fast, and threatening major damage, and Alexis couldn’t do anything but wait while trying to secure the sea, shores, and inhabitants before it arrived. Seafaring traffic was down, but not absent. After the high winds and heavy rains of the previous day and a half, commercial fishing boats had started to put out to sea in hopes of making up for their lost catches, and despite the maritime weather warnings, she’d spotted a few intrepid pleasure sailors and touring boats as well. The onboard radar screen at her console beeped rhythmically, and she scanned it reflexively every few minutes. On the last sweep, she picked up four new blips just emerging on the upper left-hand corner of her field, about twenty nautical miles northeast. She didn’t have to check the map to know that put the ships in the waters off the oil rig, nothing unusual in and of itself, but the timing was strange given the storm warnings. The oil rig was a common destination for tankers offloading oil from the rig, transport ships delivering equipment, and other vessels. Ordinarily, she didn’t pay much attention to the traffic, as their patrol range was considerably closer to shore. This morning, though, any activity on the seas caught her notice.

She would have expected the rig to ramp down production until the weather cleared. The oil platform sat out in the ocean like an apple in a barrel. Considerably more stable, but all the same, a speck compared to the vastness of the sea. A speck that housed dozens of vulnerable human beings as well as an underwater threat to the entire coastline.

She calculated the directional adjustment and thumbed her radio to contact the helmsman. “Lieutenant, course change. Let’s go see what’s going on out at the rig.”

“Aye, aye, Commander.”

She gave him the coordinates, and the patrol boat made a sweeping curve and headed farther out to sea. Thirty minutes later, they came in visual range of Rig 86 and the four big ships riding the waves in a semicircle a half mile away. She switched to an open channel and hailed the rig.

“This is Coast Guard Cutter Hayes Adams, hailing Rig 86. Come in.”

A moment later, a female voice, deep and steady, replied, “Coast Guard Cutter Hayes Adams, this is Rig 86. Morning to you. Over.”

“Permission to come aboard, over,” Alexis said, although she didn’t really need permission. As federal law enforcement agents, coastguardsmen could board any oceangoing vessel in territorial waters, and the rig was technically a ship since the platform was anchored to a stationary underwater hull. All the same, she was making a routine check and extended the courtesy of a request.

“Permission granted. Use the south side dock.”

“Affirmed, Rig 86.”

Alexis directed the helmsman to the south side of the platform, where he brought it smoothly in to the ocean-level dock and idled as the crew threw down for temporary anchor. Alexis climbed down the ladder, crossed the dock, and rode up in the crane-operated lift to the rig platform two stories above the water. A woman with short dark hair, average height, early thirties, in the usual uniform of windbreaker, boots, and serviceable pants awaited her with a friendly smile. Alexis didn’t recognize her, and she thought she’d met most of the crew leaders at one time or another. She held out her hand. “Commander Alexis Martin. Good to meet you.”

Alexis thought she saw a flicker of surprise in the woman’s eyes, but the smile didn’t falter, and the hand that closed around hers was firm. “Austin Germaine. Welcome aboard, Commander.”

❖

Austin led the Coast Guard officer through the warren of containers and equipment to the command center, mentally evaluating. Martin. Had to be a coincidence the officer shared Gem’s last name. Her luck couldn’t possibly be that bad. She searched for some physical resemblance to Gem and tried to tell herself the shape of the officer’s sea-green eyes, the particular golden hue of her hair, and the subtle squareness to her chin weren’t really similar to Gem’s remarkable features. Her artist’s eye disagreed, however. The likeness was subtle, but it was there. God damn it.

As she opened the door to the command center, Austin said, “Come on in and make yourself at home. We’ve got some decent coffee. The OTL is out with the drill crew, but I can get him up here if you need him. I’m acting sub right now.”

“Thanks,” Alexis said, unzipping her jacket and stowing her gloves in the pockets, “but I’m just doing a drop-by to check on storm preparedness. No need to call the OTL. I’m good without coffee, but appreciate it.” She glanced around the room. The usually crowded command center was oddly empty. The only other occupant was a woman who sat at a nearby workstation in front of two huge computer monitors showing satellite graphics and a variety of charts.

“Dr. Claudia Spencer is our oceanographer and meteorologist,” Austin said, apparently following Alexis’s gaze.

Claudia glanced over her shoulder and smiled in Alexis’s direction.

Alexis straightened. Claudia Spencer was gorgeous. Ordinarily, the sight of a beautiful woman didn’t give her a little charge, but this one did. Her hair and eyes were the color of a starless sky, deep black and endless; her elegant features and pale skin as flawless as polished ivory; her sensuous mouth wide and full, and at the moment, lifting in a deliberate smile. Alexis cleared her throat. “Ma’am.”

The stunning brunette laughed. “Hardly. Commander, is it?”

“Yes, ma’am, Alexis Martin.”

“Very nice to meet you, Commander.” Claudia’s voice was throaty and warm, as rich as dark honey. She held Alexis’s gaze for another few seconds and then turned back to her computer screen.

Alexis dragged her attention back to Austin. “How’s the rig riding out the weather?”

“So far so good. As you can see,” Austin indicated Claudia’s screens, “we’re keeping an eye on what’s coming, but as I’m sure you know, these semisubmersibles have incredible stability, even in big storms.”

“I know, but we don’t want a replay of what happened with the Petrobras.”

Austin winced. Petrobras 36 was the world’s biggest semisubmersible rig until it exploded and sank in bad weather off the coast of Brazil. “Believe me, neither do we.”

“I noticed you’ve got a convoy out there. Transport?”

“Potentially. We’re keeping our nonessentials off the rig,” Austin said, carefully keeping to the truth. She wasn’t about to lie to anyone, but particularly not to a Coast Guard officer whose duty it was to protect all of them.

“Good idea,” Alexis said. “How’s your storage level on the rig?”

“We’ve offloaded most of our fuel already,” Austin said, again sticking to the facts.

“You have everything at the ready to evacuate the rig if there are problems?”

“We have protocols in place. Ray Tatum will contact the company to make the call if the situation changes.” Austin indicated Claudia with a tilt of her head. “Dr. Spencer’s keeping a close eye on the storm as well as evaluating the stability of the rig. We won’t take any chances.”

“I doubted you would.” Alexis glanced toward Claudia Spencer again. The brunette didn’t turn around, and Alexis hid her disappointment. Everything sounded in order, and she had no reason to stay. She pulled her gloves from her pocket and slapped them against her thigh. “Good enough. I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Austin said.

Claudia turned and caught Alexis’s eyes. “Safe seas, Commander.”

Alexis nodded. “And to you, Doctor.”

Alexis walked with Austin to the far side of the deck and swung her leg over the side of the railing into the cage. “Make sure you institute those protocols with plenty of time. This one is going to be tough to call.” The wind whipped her hair, the sting bringing tears to the corners of her eyes. “No matter how good your meteorologist might be.”

“You’ve got my word on that, Commander.”

Alexis nodded and disappeared as the cage rapidly descended to the dock below.

Austin gripped the rail and watched the cutter glide away in a rapid curve, headed toward the convoy riding easily on the horizon at the moment. The last thing she wanted was to put anyone in danger, and if they didn’t make the right call at the right time, it wasn’t just their crew they’d put at risk. Claudia wanted ten hours to make a firm prediction. They had six left, and every one hung over her head like the sword of Damocles.

❖

Gem set out when the sun finally broke through the clouds for a few precious moments. The weather report suggested they might have scattered clouds with a bit of sun for the rest of the afternoon, and she intended to make the most of it. She wanted to get her cameras situated and temporary blinds set up where she could view and record the various migrants en route through the sanctuary. With her backpack full of equipment and a water bottle tucked into the pocket of her cargo pants, she followed the main trail away from her cabin into the marsh for a quarter of a mile, using her GPS to map her route and mark observation locations. Then she left the trail and headed into the undeveloped areas where tourists had no access, taking care not to disturb the native vegetation that provided not only cover, but food for the birds. The type and plentifulness of the reeds, grasses, and other ground cover constituted two of the prime determinants of which birds nested in which part of the sanctuary. She stopped at intervals and set her infrared-capable video cameras to cover areas she anticipated would be prime nesting spots and attached extended battery packs. Some of the birds would only rest for a day or less, others might remain for several. She would make a twice-daily circuit, downloading the camera readouts and changing batteries.

She didn’t have to make the trip every day, let alone twice a day. She could just as easily monitor the cameras from her cabin’s computer, but she preferred to do it manually. A camera could only see where its lens was pointed, but her human senses could follow the trill of birdsong, catch the flicker of wings on the air, spy a flash of color in a way a still camera never could. And besides that, she was a field researcher. She didn’t want to sit in a warm room in front of a computer monitor. She wanted her boots on the ground, no matter how muddy, and the wind in her hair, and the beauty around her warming her spirit.

In a couple of hours she’d completed her preliminary route, which she’d modify as the flocks arrived, and was only a twenty-minute fast walk from the center. Hopefully some of the other team members had arrived. She could use a little company to divert her attention. Activity seemed to be the only panacea to thoughts of Austin. Some of those thoughts were immensely enjoyable, but beneath the pleasant memories was a tide of sadness threatening to rise. She needed to call Kim too, and she’d been putting it off. Funny, now that she thought of it, that Kim hadn’t called her or even requested when they’d parted that Gem call her when she arrived. She hadn’t thought to wonder what Kim’s schedule was either. How long had they been in that stagnant place, both of them going through the motions because it was easier than admitting they had only the barest of connections any longer? They were friends, but she was closer to Emily, who she only saw in person a couple of times a year. Her night with Austin aside, it was time for her and Kim to move on, and the weeks of separation while she was in the field would be a natural time to make the break. She sighed. So she’d call—as soon as she got back to the cabin.

The visitors’ center’s main area was empty except for a twentysomething brown-haired boy in a pressed plaid shirt and jeans, who looked up eagerly when she walked in.

“Hi,” he said in a high soft tenor, “welcome to the Rock Hill Island sanctuary. Can I help you?”

“Hi.” Gem held out her hand. “I’m Gem Martin. I’m part of the research team.”

Disappointment flickered across his features and then he smiled again. “Oh, hi. I’m Paul.”

The name used to give Gem a start, even recently, but today she had no reaction at all. Paul was long gone and would not steal a moment of her time, now or ever. “I don’t imagine you’re getting much in the way of visitors today.”

“No. It’s deadly quiet.” He brightened again. “But tomorrow’s Friday, so the weekend ought to be busy. If the storm doesn’t keep everyone away.”

“You know birdwatchers. They’ll be here.”

“I hope so. This is one of the biggest weeks of the year for us. The donations really help.”

“Well, stay warm and dry, Paul,” Gem said and went on down the hall to the canteen. To her disappointment, the small dining area was empty. Emily and Joe must still be out in the field somewhere, and the other team members either hadn’t arrived or were getting settled into their cabins. She checked the coffeepot, found it nearly full, sniffed, and decided it was fresh enough to drink. She poured a cup and turned at the sound of footsteps behind her. Maybe Emily or Joe—

She caught her breath, and her heart actually raced in her chest.

“The guy out front said I should come back,” Austin said from the doorway. “I hope it’s okay.”