of death was chilling. The significance of this find was worse than she’d thought.
Dillon opened the truck door and gently guided Beth onto the passenger seat, but he remained standing in the lot, his outstretched arm resting on the open door as though he were holding a shield. “Santa Muerte is particularly revered among Mexican drug cartels, who pray to her for protection, for guidance and to grant them a painless death. People also sometimes ask her to grant them success in eliminating targets.” He looked down at the stone. “They often perform a ritual to Santa Muerte when a target has been identified.”
“Is this a ritual?” Beth asked, unable to keep her eyes off the bony image staring up at her from Dillon’s hand. “I’m the target, aren’t I? That’s why the stone was placed by my home. They want to eliminate me.” She realized that her voice was becoming quick and breathless, so she tried to steady it. “The cartel wants me dead, right?”
Dillon said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.
“Why me?” she asked, rubbing her moist palms on her jeans. “What did I do?”
Dillon shook his head. “I don’t know. Not yet anyway. But I’ll need to assign you protection.” He held up the bright stone. “This is too serious to ignore.”
Beth thought of her tranquil little cottage, cramped with people allotted to look after her. She and Ted had gotten used to a quiet life. Could she handle the intrusion of others sharing her space? But she knew that Dillon was right. This ritual to Santa Muerte was far too serious to ignore. She turned her head to look over the ocean.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Who would be staying with me?”
“I have a friend—Tyler Beck—and I’ve already put in a request to transfer him into the Bracelet Bay Station to assist us with some duties. He’s a surveillance expert working for the Department of Homeland Security on the East Coast. If you’ll allow us to create a lookout post in your lighthouse tower, Tyler and I will set up home there until the cartel members are in custody and no longer a threat to you.”
“You do realize how small the lighthouse tower is, right?” Beth asked. She imagined two big men bedding down for the night in the tightly curved space, dominated by the huge lenses of the disused beacon. “It’ll be a really tight squeeze.”
Dillon smiled. “Tyler and I have worked plenty of missions in the past where space was limited. We’ll manage just fine.”
“Missions?” she questioned. “You make it sound like a military operation.”
“The coast guard is a branch of the US armed forces,” he replied. “Not many people realize that we are part of the military. The coast guard is trained in reconnaissance, search and rescue, maritime law enforcement and many more things besides. And these are all very good reasons why you should place your trust in us to keep you safe.”
Beth rubbed her hands together, creating friction to keep them warm in her lap. Dillon’s words and tone sounded formal, and they made her feel even more ill at ease. Her safety seemed like a military mission to be accomplished, and the severity of her situation had hit home.
“So you and Tyler would be with me twenty-four hours a day?” she asked.
“I’ll be continuing to work at the station during the day while staying at the lighthouse during the night,” he answered. “Tyler will take the lead in providing protection for you.” He must have noticed a look of disappointment sweep over her face. “Tyler is a highly trained individual. You can rely on him.”
“Of course,” she said. “It’s just that I kind of figured you would take charge of things.” She felt awkward and uncomfortable asking him to take the lead, but if she must accept somebody being responsible for her safety, she would at least prefer it was someone she was already on a first-name basis with. And although she didn’t want to admit it, he radiated a strength that reassured her. She felt secure with him.
Dillon kept his fingers gripped firmly around the painted pebble as he spoke. His face had lost the previous expression of concern and was replaced by one of detachment. “I’m afraid it’s not possible for me to take my focus away from my job and put it onto you. I’ll do whatever I can to assist Tyler, but I need to keep my sights elsewhere.” He cast his gaze out over the ocean as if to emphasize his point. “I can’t afford to let myself be sidetracked.”
Beth watched Dillon’s eyes scan the ocean, darting back and forth across the waves. He always seemed to be searching the sea, permanently on the lookout. His awareness was constantly heightened, and she wondered whether his single-minded focus was the reason he’d been given the top job at the coast guard station. He had an important smuggling assignment to oversee, and her situation must be like a thorn in his side. She suddenly saw herself as he did: as a nuisance and a distraction. It made her defensive streak rush to the surface and prickle her skin.
“I’ve been managing by myself for five years,” she said, crossing her arms. “Once Ted has recovered from his surgery, I’m sure we’ll be able to cope alone. I really don’t want to divert resources from your day job.”
He clearly guessed he had hit a nerve. He took his eyes away from the ocean and settled them on her. “Ensuring your safety is as important as any task I need to accomplish in my day job, but I can’t take personal responsibility for protecting you.” He sighed. “It’s complicated.”
She looked him full in the face. She figured he was casting her off with excuses, trying to make her feel better about being such a drain on his brand-new job as station chief. She also knew that all her insecurities about being a burden shouldn’t be laid at his feet. They had been stored up nice and tight for a long time.
“One thing I’ve learned over the years,” she said, “is that things are always complicated.”
He leaned in close to her on the passenger seat. “I know that you’re an independent woman who’s going to struggle to adapt to a couple of big men lumbering around your little lighthouse like giants.” She smiled in spite of her swirling emotions. “And I also know that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself under normal circumstances,” he continued. He uncurled his fingers from the stone and held it in his palm. “But these are not normal circumstances. Although I won’t be the person taking overall responsibility for your security, I will make absolutely sure that nothing bad happens to you.” He laid a hand over hers. “You deserve all the resources we have, and you’re worth the effort. You should know that.”
His words almost took her breath away. Had he been able to guess that she saw herself as worthless? That she felt of little value to anyone? Had he seen through the air of confidence she had created to hide the pain of being publicly rejected?
She finally found her voice after being stunned into temporary silence. “When would you want to move into the tower?”
“Tyler should be here tomorrow evening, so for tonight it’ll be just me staying with you.” He checked his watch. “Let’s get back to the lighthouse so I can measure the tower room for equipment. I’ll have Carl deliver it later on.”
“How long do you think this will take?” Beth desperately wanted to know when the acid taste of fear would leave her mouth and when she could return to her normal life again. “How close are you to catching these cartel guys?”
Dillon pressed his palms together and brought them to his face with a sigh. Before he could give an answer, a crashing sound cut through the
