Page 9 of Turn the Tide
Deep Blue
Chapter 1
Zoe shouldn’t have come out to the oil platform alone.
How many times had Jane warned her? How many times had she promised her partner that she wouldn’t scuba dive offshore rigs on her own? But she’d done it before, and she’d do it again.
Unless, of course, this time was her last.
Crap.
Eighty-five feet beneath the surface of the water, she spun, taking in details she hadn’t noticed above. The absolute stillness was disquieting, when usually the water around the rig’s coral- and crustacean-coated legs was teeming with life. The sea turtles and tiny reef fish that always investigated her presence were nowhere to be seen. The only sound was her own breathing as she sucked air from the tank, the only movements the gentle swish of sea anemone and the flurry of bubbles rising from her mouth.
The flat, washed-out blue she usually found so calming looked dead without the flash of garibaldi dashing between the old oil platform’s maze of support beams like playful orange flames. Usually they’d be swarming, but today…nothing.
It was Sea Lion Bob’s absence that transformed her sense of general unease into full-blown worry, however. He’d greeted her every time she’d come to check the Polaris platform reef.
Something was very wrong.
Get out of here, her instincts screamed, even as her training forced her to relax. A slow inhale, the sound thin under the weight of the water, and a kick up, as languid as she could make it with the panic weighing her limbs down. A long exhale churned the water above, and she added bubbles to the mix by venting enough air to rise slowly.
Relax. Stay calm.
Why hadn’t she paid attention to the niggling in her belly as she’d driven her boat toward the platform? It was impossible to pinpoint exactly when the feeling had started or what had set it off, but it was undeniable. Funny how fear changed things. It turned the platform’s shell-encrusted support beams into a phantom forest. The pinks and purples, leached of all color, were the wan gray of death.
I’ll never come alone again, she promised the Fates or God or the ocean itself.
As she slowly ascended, her eyes searched feverishly for some clue as to what had turned a busy, dynamic reef into a foggy, blue ghost town.
Had she missed something on the trip out here?
She remembered passing the two working platforms closer inland. Nothing strange there. A few miles farther out, just before San Elias Island, she’d spotted theDaphneand drawn her boat up alongside her, as she did nearly every time she came this way. Blushing, of course. Always blushing with that guy.
“Hey, Eric.”
Slow as syrup, he had leaned against the rail of his boat, lean body indolent-looking, though his face remained serious as always. “Evening, Zoe. Kinda late today, aren’t you?”
She had shrugged, working hard to keep her gaze above chest level so she wouldn’t stare. What was it about this guy that made her want to eat him up with her eyes? He wasn’t even her usual type, which was dark and intellectual. No, this guy had Paul Newman good looks, with the build of a roughneck. She’d bet anything his hands were as coarse as his voice.
“Yeah,” she’d managed to shout against the wind. “Been a couple weeks since I checked in on Polaris.”
“I noticed,” he’d said without the hint of a smile.
The words—straight, serious, and a touch accusatory—did things to her. Good God, what was wrong with her? Those two innocuous words made her heart race more than anything she’d done with her last boyfriend. Ridiculous, considering that Eric showed no more interest in her than in his fishing pole.
Besides, she knew absolutely nothing about him.
“All right.” She reached forward to pull the throttle out, but stopped at his next words.
“You alone today?”
“Yeah,” she had to admit. “Jane’s not—”
“You diving the rig?”
“Yes.” She had sounded defensive. Weird how that came back to her now, with a hiccup of embarrassment.
The lines around his mouth tightened, his too-blue eyes narrowed, and he nodded once, quick and short.
