Page 69 of Backtrack

“What’s your issue with my friend?”

“What? I got no issue—”

“How about you knock this shit off?” the big guy said. “You think that stupid hoodie offers some kind of disguise? You’ve been watching her since we were in line to board. Now you’re standing around here by your lonesome eyeballing us every time we walk past. What gives?”

“I got no idea—”

The big guy took a half step in. “Why are you following her? I’m not going to ask you again.”

“You a cop?” Bart asked.

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Well whoop-tee-do!” Bart said. “You know as well as I do. A cop don’t have any jurisdiction on the open ocean.”

The big guy smirked. “I don’t need jurisdiction to put a boot in your ass for bothering my friend.”

“Oh,” Bart said. “She’s your friend, is she? You know who she’s married to?”

“I do not,” the big guy said. “But you obviously do, which proves my point, genius.”

Bart gave a nervous chuckle.Where was Leo?He turned back to the railing. “Get away from me—”

“Oh, I’ll leave,” the big guy said. “I’m a firm believer it’s better to shine the light on a cockroach. You can explain yourself to security. See what they have to say about—”

Leo finally emerged from under the stairs, moving at a fast lope. He tossed his track jacket over the nearest camera as he passed. Smaller and leaner than Bart, Leo Bouchard could go from cordial to berserk in a heartbeat.

The big guy spun with surprising speed at the sound of footsteps only to meet a devastating blow to the liver from Leo’s left hook. He staggered backward, one arm over the railing.

“Get his leg!” Leo snapped.

“What?”

The big guy realized what was happening a split second before Bart. He attempted to push himself off the rail, but the liver shot had wobbled him bad. Leo followed up with a barrage of cross elbows to the face. The big guy raised his hand to ward off the punches, keeping him occupied while Bart grabbed his right leg. With a man on each leg and using the ship’s railing as a fulcrum, it wasn’t much of a feat to toss even a large man over the side.

The big guy choked out a primal whimper—like something out of a horror movie, the most terrifying sound Bart had ever heard. It was over in an instant. There was no splash. Just the breeze over the deck and the sizzling hiss of the ship sliding through black water.

“We need to haul ass!” Leo said, already turning to retrieve the jacket he’d thrown over the security camera.

“How long you think he’ll last?” Bart stood entranced, pushed by some unseen hand to look over the rail.

“Hell, the sharks probably have him already. If not, minutes maybe. That water is colder than a witch’s tit!” Leo said, one hand hovered over the jacket, ready to grab it off the security camera. “Maybe he got chopped up by the screws.”

Bart looked over his shoulder toward the nest of electronics and cameras affixed to the rail toward the foredeck. “What about those?”

“Taken care of,” Leo said. “Now come on. I said haul ass!”

Bart shook off his stupor and ran. Leo yanked the jacket away, clearing the image as soon as Bart was out of the frame. If anyone from security happened to be watching, they would have seen Bart and the big guy talking, a glitch, then an empty deck. It was an extra precaution. None of the cameras would be a problem—as long as their man came through and did what they’d paid him to do.

Joellen walked out of the women’s room relieved and anxious at the same time. She stood along the track, drying her hands on a paper towel while she waited for Steve to come out from behind the movie screen. She had a clear view down either side of the ship. He wasn’t waiting by the diner. She’d walked past that already. No, he was behind the huge screen. He had to be.

But he didn’t come out.

She pulled the oversize blazer tight around her chest and walked faster, glancing over her shoulder in case he’d decided to hide and then sneak up behind her. He didn’t seem that childish. But then, he was a guy and—

She stopped in her tracks when she rounded the corner. The tunnel behind the screen was completely empty.

He must have gotten cold and gone inside.