LITMIR.BIZ

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He was in a tank with multiple creatures that might decide he’d make a tasty snack. They were used to the aquarium staff sharing their habitat, but a random guy who had scant knowledge about their feeding preferences or behaviors? Focusing on the dock, he wasted no time getting there.

      Water sluiced down his body onto the metal grid beneath his sodden tennis shoes. While the older man read him the riot act, he scanned the water for Olivia.

      Would the other diver reach her in time?

      “Good, security’s here. You’re going to be escorted off the premises, sir.”

      Movement beside him belatedly registered, and he looked up into the grim visage of the security guard.

      “You’ll need to come with me, Mr.—”

      “It’s Captain Johnson. Look, I know I broke a rule of some sort, and I apologize. I will leave without a fuss, but first I need to see that Olivia is all right.”

      The guard’s nostrils flared, and he rested his hand on the weapon at his hip. “You will leave now.”

      Brady hadn’t ever been arrested or spent a night in jail. The prospect hadn’t even occurred to him. Now he found himself debating the cost of his actions. He wasn’t leaving until Olivia was out of that tank.

      “I see them!” Leon shouted.

      Brady spotted the two divers. The brunette was assisting Olivia through the water and sharing her air with her. The fact she was conscious was a good sign, but he couldn’t give in to relief just yet.

      A hand clamped on to his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

      “Can’t he stay a little longer?” Leon piped up. “He’s friends with Olivia.”

      The man in charge—James, according to his name badge—eyed Brady with skepticism. “How do you know her?”

      “She was married to a pilot friend of mine.” A trivial label for the friendship that had saved his career, and possibly even his life. Grief, that terrible companion that caught him unawares and threatened hard-won control, slammed into him again.

      “You knew Derek?”

      He cleared his throat. “We met in flight school.”

      James nodded to the guard, who retreated to the railing with a disgusted scowl. The group returned their attention to the divers, who appeared to stop every few feet and tread water. When the pair finally reached the dock, he put a hand beneath Olivia’s arm and helped her out of the water.

      “Brady.” Once on her feet, she shifted out of his grip, removed her eye mask and peeled the wet strands off her face. He noticed her hands were trembling. “How did you get up here?”

      “Leon brought me. Are you all right?”

      “I’m fine.” Her rich brown eyes told another tale. The incident had shaken her. Her nose crinkled. “Why are you wet?”

      Leon grinned. “He jumped in to help you.”

      Her jaw sagged. “You did what?”

      Olivia’s disbelief was to be expected. He’d frozen her out, not taking pains to hide his suspicions that she was using Derek to perpetuate a fantasy. He’d seen it all too often...local girls who painted pilots in a glamorous light and thought they could achieve a Top Gun dream life. She’d had Derek talking marriage after a week. That wasn’t a sign of an authentic bond. It was the sign of a campaign launched to dazzle and distract.

      “What happened down there?”

      “Regulator free-flow.” Seeing his lifted brows, she amended, “The gas started discharging from my cylinder. My regulator malfunctioned.”

      James turned to her. “Didn’t they teach you how to handle that in dive school?”

      “They did.” Olivia’s black brows pulled together. “It hasn’t happened to me before, and I lost my cool. I’m sorry for worrying the guests.” Tugging off her fingerless gloves, she looked at Brady. “Did I frighten the little girl?”

      “Her mother distracted her.”

      “What about your backup?” James persisted.

      Brady bristled at his accusatory tone, but he muzzled the brewing retort. This man could be Olivia’s superior, and he didn’t want to get her in trouble.

      Sinking onto a metal bench, she tugged off her fins one by one. “Something’s wrong with it. My primary cylinder, too. I checked both before I went in, and they were fine.”

      The brunette interjected. “She’s right. We inspected our equipment at the same time.”

      “The gauges showed they were full,” she said, straightening. “Down there, it was a different story. My large cylinder was nearly empty and the pony bottle was completely out.”

      James planted his hands on his hips. “It would be unusual for one to malfunction, but not both.”

      Silence reigned. Brady voiced what no one else seemed willing to. “Did you leave your equipment unsupervised between the time of your inspection and the time you entered the water?”

      Olivia let her fins clatter to the floor. “What are you suggesting?”

      “Is it possible that someone wanted to sabotage your dive?”

       TWO

      Sabotage? The word wasn’t part of her everyday life. Olivia understood why a military man like Brady would consider it. He was conditioned to combat evil in the world.

      “There isn’t a single person on the aquarium payroll whom I’d consider capable of such an act.”

      He held her gaze. “Capable in knowledge or intent?”

      “There are plenty of certified divers here, but no one who’d willingly damage scuba equipment.”

      “Not even for a joke?” Brady said.

      “That’s not my idea of a joke.”

      Erin sat beside her. “You were called away for an urgent phone call, remember?”

      Olivia had forgotten about the summons. She’d been told that an American Zoo Association representative was requesting information about the upcoming fund-raiser, but when she’d gotten to the phone, the line was dead. She dismissed any thoughts of foul play. This was her second home. Her coworkers were her substitute family. The aquarium had kept her in the Jacksonville area after Derek’s death. If she didn’t adore her job, she would’ve returned to Cherokee in the western part of the state or even sought employment at a different aquarium.

      “True,” she said, “but you were here.”

      Worry lines dug into Erin’s forehead. “Actually, I dashed to the restroom.”

      Brady bent and retrieved his jacket. The long-sleeved gray shirt he wore, wet from his foray into the tank, adhered to his muscular shoulders and biceps like glue. He straightened and regarded them with his arctic blue-gray gaze. His customary air of authority—gleaned from flight school and his subsequent climb through the ranks—was in place. He was accustomed to being respected and admired, not befriended or loved. She believed he preferred it that way. Why else would he work so hard at keeping others at arm’s length?

      A shame, because he had a lot to offer. She’d witnessed his tireless commitment to community service. Each Christmas season, he was instrumental in local gift collection for Toys for Tots. He gave his time and energy each week to kids who lacked positive role models. She’d seen evidence of his compassion and selflessness, his patriotism and work ethic. She’d even seen him let go and have fun. He and Derek had played together on a church basketball team. On the court, he’d forgotten his childhood wounds, forgotten

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