Page 42 of Austen

Too bad they were tracking an empty ship.

Declan had about thirty-six hours before things got really ugly.

Hands found him, helped him up, and he focused on Austen, her eyes reddened, her jaw tight.“Are you okay?”

He nodded.

She shook her head.

“We’ll figure a way out of this.I promise.”

He’d gotten them into this.He’d get them out.

* * *

The moment the body dropped into the water, Steinbeck knew his gut had been right.

He set down his binoculars and sat hard at the helm of Hawkeye’s dinghy.

It didn’t look like Austen, but he couldn’t be sure, could he?

He should probably turn around, get back into radio range of Hawkeye’s boat, but he’d lose precious time, not to mention the opportunity to sneak on board and end whatever had gone down on Declan’s yacht.

The twelve-foot boat listed in the gentle water.No way he’d have taken the dinghy off Hawkeye’s boat if the sea had been running angry.Well, maybe...

Aw,he should have never left.He didn’t care what Austen said—he shouldn’t have let Declan’s explanation soften his resolve.Even if he had dropped his cell phone into Austen’s bathrobe pocket, in case she needed him.

It hadn’t been enough, because the minute he’d stood at the rail of Hawkeye’s boat, watching the yacht disappear, his gut had clenched, something niggling at him.

Hawkeye had noticed.“What’s eating you?”

Maybe it had been the way he stood, the wind flapping his shirt, his jaw tight.The external version of the knot in his chest.“I don’t know,”he’d said, and he wasn’t lying.Just, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Hawkeye had sat in the high captain’s seat, glanced over at him through his aviator sunglasses, his hair curling out from under his backward gimme cap.He’d worn a sleeveless shirt, the name Ocean Adventure Divers on the front, and a pair of shorts and flip-flops.

Not unlike how Steinbeck had looked a year ago, working as a dive instructor in St.Lucia.An easier, simpler life, albeit aimless.

It felt years away now.Declan Stone had changed that.Given him back a taste of the life he’d lost.

Oh, how he wanted Phoenix to be wrong, but his conversation with the operative two months ago as they were fighting for their lives just wouldn’t leave him.

“Declan Stone is a terrorist, Stein.I’ve seen the proof.”

And then, of course, she’d spent the better part of five hours laying out that proof.

Declan had eliminated all of that with one sentence: “I’m a patriot, and when the DOD came to me and asked for help, of course I was going to do what I could for my country.”Except, he seemed to have good reasons for everything, didn’t he?

“Stein?Really, what’s going on?”

Austen seems to trust Declan.

Stein had glanced at Hawkeye.“I dunno.Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Aw, man, she’ll be fine.”

“I know.”He’d walked over to the cooler and pulled out a cold bottle of water.“It’s just that she always has a way of...”

“Standing up to you?”Hawkeye had grinned.“You and the rest of the world.Sea creatures and men alike.”

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