Wild Shores

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.

“Those are really good,” Claudia said from behind her. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” Austin smiled and casually flipped over the page.

“You could make a living doing that.”

“I might have to, seeing how this is coming down.”

Claudia rested a hip on the only spare inch of the corner of the desk. “I thought we’d have heard something from the company a long time ago. Weren’t we looking at a timetable of a few hours?”

Austin stood, turned the pad facedown on the counter, and stretched. Some of the soreness was due to inactivity, but not all of it. Some was from the hours she’d spent in Gem’s bed. She tamped down the images of Gem in her arms before they destroyed her focus. “I think Eloise misjudged the rate at which attorneys move, particularly late on a Friday night going into a Saturday morning when half the country is obsessed with watching the news of the impending hurricane.”

“Ah,” Claudia said musingly. “The attorneys. I’d forgotten about those.”

“Lucky you. I seem to live with them shadowing my shoulder.”

“Well, that’s the nature of your beast, isn’t it? You only get called out in a crisis, and where there’s a corporate crisis, there’s an attorney or twenty.”

Austin laughed. “You’re absolutely right. Once they’ve discussed the wording of the formal statement, and the appropriate federal bureaus and agencies have been advised, Eloise will—”

Austin’s phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket. “And that would be her now,” she said to Claudia as she answered. “Germaine.”

“The Department of Fish and Wildlife has been advised, we have a statement ready to release to the Associated Press, and your name has been provided as the on-site incident commander,” Eloise snapped out. “Coast Guard command at the regional level has been alerted, but not given any details. We haven’t yet contacted the people at the sanctuary, mostly because we’re still going through channels and their exact directorship is a labyrinth.”

“I know who is in charge,” Austin said, hearing the flatness in her voice.

“I am aware of that, and I suggest you set something up for early in the morning. You’ll have to wake a few people up.”

“I understand.” If Eloise thought her orders put Austin in an uncomfortable position, she gave no sign of it. And Austin had no room to complain. She’d been the one to complicate the situation, and now she’d have to pay the price. “I’ll contact them as soon as we finish.”

“Good. Our meteorologists tell us you will have at least thirty-six hours before significant winds and water impact the shoreline.”

“That means we have twenty-four hours, maybe a little longer, to contain any oil that makes it to the surface or gets caught up in the currents.”

“That’s our estimation, yes.”

“Then I need to get to shore.”

“You need to set up your command center on shore, but I want you overseeing the work on the rig,” Eloise said.

“Tatum can—”

“Not Tatum—I want a direct line, and I want you on the other end of it.”

“Right. I’ll split my time.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“Thanks.” Austin wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to manage anything once Gem discovered who she was and why she was here. But she’d know very soon. She checked her phone for messages. There were none, but she had Gem’s number. She glanced at Claudia. “You got the gist of that?”

“Enough. I guess it’s time for you to stir up a storm,” Claudia said quietly.

“Past time,” Austin murmured and tapped Gem’s number.

❖

Gem couldn’t sleep and it was a few more hours until sunrise. Finally she gave up trying, got up, and lit a lamp in the center of the table. The cabin was chilly, and she heated water for tea. While the water boiled, she made toast and checked the cabinets for peanut butter. Hallelujah, someone had left a jar. She needed to stock in some supplies first thing in the morning.

Fortified with caffeine and protein, she settled into a chair at the table and powered up her laptop. She’d bookmarked the NOAA site and studied the latest forecasts. The projected cone of the storm’s movement predicted landfall somewhere along the coast within fifty miles of the sanctuary if the storm kept on course at its current speed. That was close enough to be a direct hit, and even if it wasn’t, the high winds and storm surge would strip coastal trees, erode the shoreline, and flood the coastal marshes with enough sediment to destroy habitats and waterways. The resident wildlife and migratory populations would be decimated. If they acted quickly, they could sandbag the high-tide line and at least limit erosion beyond that point. That kind of mobilization took days, though, and they might not have that long. Someone in DC should have warned her—their team reported directly to a division at the NIH, but bureaucrats being who they were, no one probably thought to take responsibility. It was done now and her complaints wouldn’t change anything. She rubbed her eyes and thought about calling Emily, but there was no point in both of them losing sleep.

She had the number of her liaison at the NIH. She’d just have to wake him up and get him to contact FEMA and approve funding for the people and equipment she’d need. They could get the trucks and FEMA personnel moving before daylight, hopefully out of Baltimore. Until then, they’d just have to—

Her phone rang and, expecting it to be Alex, she thumbed it on and said, “Have you heard anything else?”

“Gem?”

She recognized the voice but it took her a moment to grasp Austin was calling her at three a.m. “Austin?”

“Yes, sorry. I woke you.”

“No,” she said, confused and pleased at the same time. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m afraid it isn’t.”

Austin sounded different—formal and distant. Gem’s heart beat a rapid tattoo against the inside of her rib cage. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m sorry. Let me explain why I’m calling. There’s a developing situation that may involve the sanctuary. I’d like you to gather your people for a briefing at seven a.m. I’ll be able to explain then to everyone at once exactly what’s going on.”

“I’m not following,” Gem said quietly. “What are you talking about?”

“All I can say at this time is we have some problems that may impact the sanctuary. It’s best if everyone hears the details at one time.”

“And you want me to get the team together at seven a.m.?” Gem parroted Austin’s request while trying to assimilate the impossible. Why was Austin involved in anything to do with the sanctuary? “Can you at least tell me—”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I know this all seems cryptic, but if you could just hold your questions until the briefing—”

Everyone kept mentioning a briefing, but no one was giving any details. Gem’s temper flared. “At seven a.m. at the sanctuary.”

“Yes, the sanctuary visitors’ center would be fine for now.”

“Austin—”

“I’m sorry, Gem, I’ll explain everything in a few hours.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on, but I don’t seem to have any choice,” Gem said, hearing the ice in her voice.

“I really am sorry.” Austin sounded weary. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Good night, then,” Gem said, understanding on some fundamental level that everything she thought she knew about Austin and what they’d shared had suddenly changed. She redialed Alex with a steady hand, but her insides roiled like rough surf.

“Martin,” Alex said almost immediately.

“I just got the strangest call—”

“About what?”

“About a meeting—”

“Hold on for a second, Gem…” Alex’s voice faded. “What is it?”

Gem could make out Alex talking to someone nearby, her tone raised in question and a low male voice replying.

“Vice Admiral? Sir, this is Commander Martin,” Alex’s muffled voice came through to Gem.

Gem waited while minutes passed, trying and failing to put Austin from her mind.

“Gem?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“It looks like I’m going to be seeing you in the morning,” Alex said. “Zero-seven-hundred, to be precise.”

“That’s what I was about to tell you. I got a call also. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said, a hard bite to her voice. “I still haven’t been briefed.”

Her sister was not happy, and Gem didn’t blame her. She didn’t like being kept in the dark either.

“Why is this all so cloak-and-dagger?” Gem said.

“I’m not sure, but I’ve got a pretty good guess—that was Vice Admiral Moorhouse just now, informing us we’d be meeting with someone by the name of Austin Germaine, and not only that, we’d apparently be sharing incident command responsibility with her team—whatever that might be.”

A cold hand fisted in Gem’s middle. “I’m sorry? Are you sure about that name?”

“Very sure. In fact, I met her yesterday out at Rig 86.”

“The offshore oil installation?”

“Yeah—I was doing a routine check about storm preparedness and talked to her then.”

“That can’t be right,” Gem murmured more to herself than Alex. “Austin wouldn’t have any reason to be out there.”

“About thirty, average height, beyond average looks although not my type—on the rugged, adventurous side with the required dashing dark hair and intense eyes.”

“That—could be her.” Gem had thought of Austin as a pirate, and maybe she’d been more right than she knew.

“You know her?” Alex asked.

“No,” Gem said, the chill spreading through her. “No, I don’t know her at all.”