going to call security, all right? They’re going to want to deal with this before we make a mess of it.”
Lexie unfurled her legs and stretched, hoping to work out the crick in her lower back from the earlier events of the day. Once security completed their sweep of the room, she and Shaun were going to have a serious talk, whether he liked it or not. He knew far too much to be a simple passenger on board the ship—not to mention the gun she was sure he had hidden in his waistband.
Shaun Lane had a secret, and she intended to figure it out.
* * *
Shaun’s heart thudded as he replaced the phone receiver. It had become quite apparent that he needed to bring Lexie in on his case. The woman had a good head on her shoulders, and she wouldn’t accept his diversions for long. He had to call his case officer with an update sometime in the next few hours anyway, and he needed to clarify how much he could tell Lexie about his search for the Wolf without leading her into even more danger.
On the other side of the room, Lexie’s stare bore holes into his skull. He admired her persistence—and understood her desire for answers perhaps more than anyone else aboard—but safety had to come first. Whoever left the braid and the message knew very well who she searched for, but likely hadn’t yet figured out Shaun’s purpose here. That put her in the line of fire and left him with the option of sticking by her side for the next twelve hours or so until they docked...not that he’d complain about spending more time around her, but with it came the possibility of being distracted for entirely the wrong reasons.
As he contemplated what to say to ease her raised hackles, crackling came through a speaker in the corner of the room.
“Ship-wide announcement?” Shaun watched as surprise flit across Lexie’s visage. She already looked tired. Hopefully this announcement would bring some good news about the noises around the ship.
A pleasant, masculine voice with a heavy Newfoundland accent came over the speaker. “Good evening to all passengers of the MV Providence. This is your captain speaking, and on behalf of myself and the crew, we’d like to thank you for choosing Atlantic Voyages for your journey to Argentia this evening. No doubt you’ve heard quite the ruckus outside, and we’d like to ease your minds. Please rest assured, the ship is in no danger. It’s quite natural for ice to form this time of year, though it’s atypical for ice to reform this quickly and this thick after a warm spell. As you know, the weather this year has been a mite unpredictable. However, we are not, repeat not, going to sink.”
The captain paused, and Shaun regarded Lexie. She’d taken his place leaning against the desk, her arms folded and hands tucked against her sides. An urge to cross the room and rub her shoulders for reassurance tugged at his gut, but she appeared less than welcome to any sort of interfering comfort at the moment.
“What sometimes happens,” the captain continued, “is the ice thickens to the point where the ferry is unable to break through the ice on her own. We’re also unable to turn around and return to harbor. But rest assured! An icebreaker from the Canadian Coast Guard is on its way.”
Lexie glanced his direction, met his eyes and looked quickly away. What was she thinking? He’d give more than a penny for her thoughts. He’d pay a whole dollar—what was it they called them in Canada? Loonies?
“So, please sit tight and enjoy the ship’s amenities. A special, complimentary evening buffet will be provided by our kitchen staff in about a half hour’s time, and we’ll provide hot beverages for the remainder of the evening at no cost. Current estimates put us docking into Argentia late tomorrow evening—a slight delay from our original estimated arrival time. We will continue to provide updates as the situation develops.”
The speaker broadcast ended with a click. Shaun didn’t even attempt to hide the sigh that welled up, releasing it in a long, drawn-out breath. Having the ferry trapped in ice presented an additional complication, namely that it meant more time in an enclosed vessel with someone who wanted to hurt Lexie. If his suspicions were correct, that someone also happened to be a notorious criminal who had eluded him for the past three years.
This left Shaun with just one option: Find the Wolf and take him into custody before he could hurt Lexie or anyone else. First things first, though. He had a question, the answer to which might provide some insight into the situation.
“The security team should be here in a minute,” he said. “But before they get here, I’m curious. What made you pick this ferry? Specifically, I mean.” He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but his gut told him it might be important.
Lexie raised one eyebrow at him. “If you must know, though I don’t think it’s any of your business, we received an anonymous tip at Lead Me Home. The tipster saw Maria’s photo on our website and called to tell us he saw someone matching her description at the last gas station on the highway before the ferry terminal. Logic followed that she might be headed to Newfoundland, as there isn’t really anywhere else to go from here. And the small community of North Sydney, Nova Scotia, isn’t the kind of place a person can run to in order to disappear. It’s not unusual for us to get tips like this. Folks call in sightings of people we’re searching for, or report whispers and rumors. Sometimes finding a person is as simple as a friend knowing where their buddy has gone for the weekend, or an employee at a rehab facility letting us know the person has checked in. This one came in about Maria, so I followed it. I didn’t pick this ship for any particular purpose, just got on the road as soon as I could after the tip came in.”
Buzzers went off in Shaun’s ears as he listened to Lexie’s explanation. As a CIA operative, he relied on leads from anonymous sources on a regular basis, following up on promising tips and using the intel to assist sensitive investigations. The kicker here? He’d undertaken the voyage to Newfoundland for a similar reason, after receiving a tip that possible suspects with ties to the Wolf might be operating out of Argentia. It could be a coincidence, but in his experience, very few happenings in life could truly be chalked up to coincidence.
Had the same anonymous tipster provided intel to the CIA and to Lexie’s missing-persons organization? It seemed unlikely and far-fetched, but then again, so did the fact that he’d bumped into Nicola’s sister on a ferry to Newfoundland, far from both of their homes.
And even more bizarre? That Lexie might possibly be targeted by the same man he’d been trying to bring down for the past three years.
* * *
Although he stood on the other side of the room, Lexie felt keenly aware of Shaun’s presence. His concern for her safety had softened the edges of her anger, though allowing herself to pursue any line of thought regarding why wouldn’t serve any purpose. Better that they remained far from each other, especially after the embrace he’d given her when they found the braid and photo on the bunk. They’d fit together too well.
She had to stop thinking about him that way. She wouldn’t be the second Reilly sister to have her heart broken and her life shattered by this man. Lexie squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.
“Knock, knock?”
Several raps on the door frame followed the question, and three men in navy blue security uniforms entered the room. An older, stocky gentleman who looked as if he’d spent a lifetime on the open water strode over to Shaun and extended his hand. “Tim Parsons. We spoke earlier about the incident on the parking deck?”
“Tim, thank you for bringing your team in here. We’ve got a bit of an unusual situation.” Shaun took the man’s hand in a firm grasp, and Lexie noted with mild annoyance
