Identity: Undercover. Lois Richer

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      Someone was watching her.

      Callie could feel the burn right through her windbreaker to the back of her neck. But no matter how closely she scrutinized the area, it was impossible to see exactly who it was.

      The same thing had happened the day before when she’d visited the estate Josiah would inherit. Whoever it was knew how to keep a low profile.

      Truthfully, she’d expected someone to take an interest in her appearance there. Finders already knew someone didn’t want Josiah gaining control of the estate. What they didn’t know was why.

      But she’d find out. She always did. And maybe in the meantime she’d discover why they had followed her.

      Callie glanced at her watch for the thousandth time and finally admitted what her brain didn’t want to accept.

      Max wasn’t coming.

      The knowledge burned a hole straight to her heart, but she ignored the pain, paid for her coffee and left the restaurant. As she rounded the corner and moved toward the craft that would transport her to Ketchikan, she had to sidestep a crowd.

      Callie wove her way among the group of curious bystanders and fought to get a better look through the throng of shoulders and heads. What she saw made her gasp: four trim, elegant offshore cruisers still tied to the dock lay listing to the west, badly damaged and taking on water faster than it could be bailed out.

      “What happened?” she asked the person beside her.

      “Problems with the ferry,” he said. “Should never have come near those boats. Must have been something mechanical that made it veer so close. The captain did some very snappy maneuvering to get it docked but not before it scraped those four beauties. The repair bills are going to be astronomical.”

      He was right. Even from this distance she could see that repairs to The Marguerite, her ride, were going to take a lot longer than a few hours. Farther down the dock one of the B.C. ferries lay battered and bruised, but securely tied in place.

      Callie pulled out her cell phone to tell Shelby she was going to take the ferry to Ketchikan, but paused in the middle of dialing as she caught a fragment of the conversation nearby.

      “The ferry’s out of service till the investigation’s complete,” she heard someone behind her grumble. “They say they can’t get a replacement here till late tonight.”

      Callie snapped her phone closed, walked away from the mess as she tried to figure out her next move.

      “Callie?”

      It wasn’t the hand on her arm that made her freeze, it was the voice. Totally devoid of all the assurance Max Chambers’s firm tones had once boasted, his low utterance now sounded hesitant, unsure, as if he was afraid to talk to her. She turned, faced him, and wondered if it had been his eyes she’d felt watching her.

      “You’re late.”

      It wasn’t the best thing she could have said, but Callie was furious that he’d shown up now, after she’d shoved away hope and the past and begun to concentrate on her job.

      “I’m sorry. There’s road construction everywhere. I got caught in a detour. I couldn’t help it.” His eyes—shimmers of dark green with flecks of seafoam, held hers for just an instant before he took in the scene. “What happened here?”

      “A ferry hit some boats.” She moved her arm so his hand fell away. “I can’t talk to you now, Max. I’m on assignment. I’ve got to get up north.” She turned away, checked with operations at Finders, learned that flights into Ketchikan were sold out. Now what?

      “Wherever you’re going, Callie, I’ll take you.”

      “I’m sure you’ve got to go to work.”

      “Nope.” He shook his head, his smile faintly mocking. “I sold the business, remember?”

      “You sold Chambers and Son?” She could hardly believe it. “But it was the family business. It was your dream.”

      He shook his head. “It was never mine. For a while I thought it was my job to keep the family business going but eventually Dad convinced me I needed to live my own dream.”

      “Doing what?”

      “Designing boats.” He grinned at her. “In a way I was already doing that, suggesting alterations and special orders for the clients. Now I plan it all into the original design. My design. Somebody else builds them.”

      “Oh. I didn’t know.” This was a side of him she’d never seen. He looked at peace about his decision, relaxed, but in a different way than he’d looked at the publicity launches of his company’s sailboats. “I—I’ve been away.”

      “I know. I’ve tried to reach you a hundred times to talk to you.” His face tightened. “I didn’t expect that when you finally contacted me it would be with divorce papers.”

      Trust Max to get to the root of the problem without wasting time.

      “We both know it’s over. Why prolong things? I spent a lot of time thinking about us on my last assignment.” She faced him, chin thrust out, shoulders back. “I’m not what you need or want, Max. I never liked posing for the cameras, being your photo-op partner. I ruin things, spoil your image. You yourself said I was bad for business.”

      He winced at the reminder.

      “I was mad. That hull cost—no!” He bit his lip, shook his head. “No. I’m not doing this again, Callie. I promised myself that when I finally got to talk to you it would not be about the past. Whatever was, was. We can’t change it. I’m more interested in the future.”

      “We don’t have a future. That’s why I had those papers sent.” She glanced at her watch, grimaced. “This isn’t the place nor the time. I’ve got to find some way to get out of here.”

      “I told you, I’ll take you.” He pushed his hands into the СКАЧАТЬ