Page 80 of Secrets Beneath the Waves
Ellie’s thoughts churned like the restless tide. What if she was wrong? What if her instincts were failing her, and Matthew wasn’t the mole? The possibility gnawed at her, sharp and unrelenting.
She took a deep breath, willing herself to focus. The stakes were too high to let doubt take over. She didn’t have all the answers, but she didn’t need to—not yet. Sometimes, the best thing to do was to take one step at a time and let the rest unfold.
Soon, she’d have her answers. Whether or not she was ready for them was another matter entirely.
CHAPTER
NINE
The next morning
Cayman Islands Cruise Port
With her scubadiving showdown with Matthew looming in two days, Ellie continued to work every angle of her investigation. As she did most days, she was down at the cruise ports. Each day, five or more cruise ships unloaded over ten thousand tourists into the Cayman paradise.
At first, it seemed like finding a needle in a haystack, but every tourist passed through the same port of entry, giving her a clear vantage point.
Ellie had learned from her mother that blending in was an art form, not just a matter of wearing a hat and sunglasses. Each disguise she chose was deliberate, designed to match her surroundings and her objectives for the day.
Today, she opted for the casual-tourist look. A wide-brimmed hat, oversized sunglasses, and a flowy sundress with a tropical print. It wasn’t just about looking like everyone else, but was about ensuring no one would give her a second glance.
The biggest challenge was the bright, naturally blonde hair she got from her mother. So, she chose loose waves for the casualtourist, a sleek bun for the professional look, and, when she really wanted to disappear, a light scarf or baseball cap to cover it altogether.
Today’s disguise was perfect for her task. If someone looked her way, they’d see nothing more than a tourist soaking up the Cayman sunshine. If they looked closer, they might notice the way her eyes scanned the crowd with sharp precision, but she even knew how to hide that.
As Ellie adjusted her hat and glanced at her reflection in a shop window, she thought about Friday. Her upcoming scuba-diving date with Matthew. She was dreading it.
For now though she pushed those thoughts aside. Today was about the cruise port. Every precaution had been taken. She’d driven there in her car that no one knew about.
Not even Matthew, Mark, or Luke had seen her new car. If she scheduled a date with them, she met them at the restaurant or at their house and caught a taxi to meet them.
Her new house was on the beach in a secluded area of the island. None of them had been there. When she drove home at the end of each day, she spent nearly an hour doing evasive moves to ensure that no one was following her.
At this point, she didn’t know who she could trust, so she didn’t trust anyone.
Ellie turned her attention to the tourists as the first ones appeared from the exit. She lingered at the crowd’s edge, her movements casual but her gaze sharp. Most passengers fit the cruise ship profile: families herding children, couples holding hands, and retirees with fanny packs and cameras, their early energy likely to wane by day’s end.
Identifying a bad guy wasn’t hard for her. Her mother had taught her what to look for. Mostly, evil in the eyes. More objectively, anomalies, the ones who didn’t belong.
She scanned their faces, their body language, their subtle cues. Not missing a single one. Looking for the man who avoided eye contact yet seemed hyper-aware of his surroundings. The woman who shifted her weight from foot to foot, her fingers twitching near her purse as if debating a move. The tourist who lookedtoomuch like a tourist. Loud shirt, camera, sunhat but stood rigid instead of relaxed, as if playing a part rather than living it.
Then there were the smaller tells. A clenched jaw. A glance held too long or broken off too quickly. Shoulders drawn too high, or a gait that didn’t match the casual rhythm of the crowd. Hands that hovered near pockets, adjusting something unseen. The ones who acted like they belonged but carried a stiffness that set them apart.
Her mom’s instincts were rarely wrong. She wanted to develop those same skills. Suspicion wasn’t about paranoia, it was about patterns, her mom would say. The way a predator watched before moving in. The same way a trained operative scanned a space before entering.
She wasn’t only looking for the obvious. She was looking for whatfeltwrong.
And somethingdidfeel wrong.
She looked closer. That’s when she saw him.
A prickle crawled up her spine as she locked onto a figure near the edge of the crowd, his posture too controlled, his focus too direct. Was she imagining it?
He was tall and lean, with an olive complexion and dark hair cropped close to his head. Dressed in nondescript clothes, simple button-up shirt and slacks. He moved with a precision that set him apart from the carefree tourists around him.
Ellie’s instincts flared. The man’s gaze darted around the port, his movements purposeful yet cautious. He wasn’t here for duty-free shopping or rum tastings.
Who are you looking for?Ellie wondered, keeping her distance as she followed him.
