the public was slightly ghoulish.
And since the news was out, they’d decided to bite the bullet and answer any questions honestly, giving what information they could, which wasn’t much. A finger and a foot had been found in the lagoon. The police and other agencies had conducted a thorough search for additional body parts but had found nothing else. More information would be forthcoming pending the investigation.
It was easy for Lara to say that she didn’t know anything, because she really didn’t.
Now she looked around and took time to really appreciate everything that had been put together to make the evening special. The interns had done a fabulous job of arranging colorful plants around the open square, decorating the tables—each one held a vase filled with shells and a candle—and creating an elegant ambiance by the sea. Rain might have ruined everything, but they’d lucked out. No rain that night. Just the perfect breeze, the moonlight and the occasional sound of a dolphin calling from the nearby lagoon. Lara had worked on the menu to make sure there were delicacies for everyone. Sonia Larson was a vegetarian, Mason Martinez lived a gluten-free lifestyle and Ely Taggerly was in his early seventies and on salt restrictions, while Grant Blackwood was a forty-year-old Texan who had made his millions in the oil industry and still liked a good steak.
Rick and Adrianna Laramie were pescatarians, eating fish but nothing warm-blooded. As they said, fish ate fish, and so did their dolphins, so they had no problem eating fish, too. Everyone else—both guests and staff—ate just about anything.
Lara was proud that she’d managed to create a gourmet menu that accommodated everyone there—and cheaply. She had enlisted an up-and-coming Key West chef who had just won a cable-series cooking challenge. He and his family would enjoy a special day with the trainers and Grady Miller, and the meal would be compliments of the chef, who, as an added bonus, was featured in all their PR material.
She looked over to see what was going on in the dining area. A local jazz trio was providing free entertainment. Sonia Larson—petite, dark haired and gorgeous in a teensy-tiny black dress that probably only she could wear—was holding a wineglass in her delicate fingers as she laughed at something Ely Taggerly had said. Grant Blackwood, standing next to Sonia, let out a deep bellow of laughter. Dr. Amory was with them, being his suave and charming self. Grady Miller and the rest of the staff were circulating, making sure every guest felt special, valued. Rick and Adrianna were chatting with Kevin and Diana Valentine, locals who owned a chain of drug and convenience stores, and sponsored their special events for veterans and their families. The café staff were supposed to be guests, but she’d noticed that they were still picking up empty plates and cups when they found them. That made her smile. Everyone here loved the place.
Everything appeared to be going exceptionally well. Both Ely Taggerly and Mason Martinez had shown themselves to be interested not only in the center’s general research but in what research into dolphin physiology and health could carry over into the field of human health, where both men made their living. EEG research had shown that half of the dolphin brain slept while the other half remained awake, seeing to it that they continued to surface as necessary to breathe.
She decided to take a moment longer and enjoy the caress of the mist blower. Closing her eyes, she let the fine droplets and the gentle breeze wrap her in cool comfort.
She loved her new world, despite the trauma of the day.
There had been so many law enforcement personnel on site that she hadn’t even met them all, but everyone had been nice, except for Agent Cody. And it wasn’t that he’d been rude or anything. He’d just been so...intense. As if what had happened was a personal affront to him. Brusque. That might be a way to describe the man. Curt, or maybe tightly wound. Kind of a shame. Both he and his partner were certainly striking looking, the kind who made you look when they walked in. One had asked that she call him by his given name and not Special Agent McCullough. He’d grinned when he’d told her that his name was Diego and explained that his mom had been a Cuban immigrant at the tender age of two. She’d grown up in Miami and married the Anglo doctor she’d met when she broke her foot playing soccer her senior year of college. “That’s Miami for you,” he’d told her with another smile.
She’d liked that. And she liked him.
As to his partner...
The man hadn’t had two words to say to her that weren’t directly concerned with the case. His features seemed to be composed of granite, totally immobile and incapable of expression. His eyes were almost black, they were so dark a brown, and while he ticked her off to no end, she couldn’t help but feel something like a warm charge suffuse her when he gave her his intense stare.
“Stick up his butt,” she muttered softly to herself.
Time to get back to work. The day was almost over. Cocoa’s discovery would be the talk of the town for several days, and then something else would capture the public’s imagination. And as far as she was concerned, that was a very good thing.
She opened her eyes. And started.
He was there. The agent. Not Diego, but stick-up-the-butt Agent Cody.
She wondered how long he had been standing there right in front of her.
And she wondered just how loudly she had spoken.
She flat-out stared at him for several seconds, stunned to see him.
“Agent Cody,” she said finally. “Well. How nice. You’re back. Just in time for the fund-raiser.”
“I’m not here for the fund-raiser,” he told her.
“That’s a pity. The food is excellent,” she said, and then shook her head. “Look, Agent Cody, this place readily turned itself inside out for you today, and we’re willing to do anything to help. But tonight’s event is very important for us.”
“I’m not here to bother you or break up your party,” he assured her.
She just stared back at him. He definitely had a blind side. It was tonight, and he was here.
And he was definitely a bother.
“I need you and your dolphin tomorrow,” he told her.
“First, I’m working tomorrow. Second, I don’t have a dolphin. I don’t own any of the dolphins, and I’m not a trainer. I’m pretty new to the facility, as a matter of fact,” she told him.
“I’ve already spoken with Mr. Miller, and he says that he’s willing for you, Rick and Cocoa to participate in what I propose, as long as we record the process for research purposes.”
“In what you propose?” Lara echoed slowly. She turned to look toward the dining area. Grady Miller was still standing by Sonia and Ely, but he was looking at her and Agent Cody. And when he caught her looking at him, he nodded gravely.
When had all this happened? How long had she been standing there in the mist?
“I’m leaving,” Agent Cody assured her. “I really just interrupted you in your—your moment of whatever—to let you know about tomorrow and to thank you. You were a tremendous help today, and I’m hoping that we fare better tomorrow.”
She hoped she wasn’t staring at him quite as blankly and stupidly as she had a feeling she was.
“You’re welcome,” she told him. “As
