Page 8 of Rogue Wave

I couldn’t tell if he was asking me all about them because he was genuinely interested or if he was just trying to calm my nerves with Hank there. The latter made more sense, since Hank made me more of a worrier than I already was, but Kingston likely didn’t know that.

One thing I hadn’t been worried about originally was my boss freaking out that my face was plastered all over the news today.

Until now.

My phone buzzed on Dottie’s kitchen table, and I swiped to answer once I realized who was calling.

“Hazel, are you okay?” my boss asked. “I saw you on the news!”

I groaned.

After I had finally finished talking with Deputy Kingston about everything and was walking back up to my house, two news reporters had swooped in and started asking me twenty questions.

“Are you the one who found the drugs?”

“What kind of drugs are they?”

“Have the police told you who they think is a suspect?”

That last one made me laugh. Hank wouldn’t even tell me his first name for the first two weeks I lived here, so that anyone would think he’d share crime investigation secrets was just asinine.

Thankfully, Dougie and Deputy Kingston had quickly come over and steered me away from the reporters and covered me as I’d walked over to Dottie’s house.

Dougie had told me it was better not to be alone right now, so I’d gone willingly.

“Yes, Kri, I’m okay,” I told my boss.

Dr. Kri Marcie was my supervisor and practically ran the entire aquarium. Honestly, she was a wonderful boss, and I knew she was likely only concerned for my wellbeing, but I also just wanted this all to go away.

“What happened?” she asked. “Are you allowed to talk about it?”

Deputy Kingston had informed me not to give too many details away for the sake of the investigation, but I figured the basics were fine.

“I was down collecting shells after the storm,” I began telling her, knowing she would understand since she, too, knew the joy of a good find. “But as I was looking at things, I found drugs. I called it in to my neighbor, who is the sheriff, and the police took over from there.”

I figured that was good enough to appease her and also not upset Deputy Kingston either.

“Vivi is working today. Would you like me to tell her so you don’t have to?” she offered, and I appreciated it, but Vivi was my best friend, and I knew it would be better if she heard it straight from me.

“No, I’ll give her a call when she gets off her shift and fill her in, but thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” she said.

I thanked her and told her I’d be back at work on Tuesday as scheduled, and I would be. I figured keeping my routine would be best.

“Do you want to call your family, dear?” Dottie asked as I set the phone back down on her table. “I know it may not seem like a big deal, but if they see you on TV before you tell them, they might be worried.”

I knew she was right, even though I didn’t really want to call my family. All of them except Auntie were worriers, but I knew I needed to let everyone know.

By everyone I meant all the O’Hara family—our adopted family. I was born Hazel Anne Carson to a loving couple just outside San Diego. A few years earlier, my sister Cora had been born, and we were the perfect little family—until we weren’t. Our father, Craig Carson, was a good dad but liked to gamble. He was always into the get-rich-quick schemes, and after a while, our mom finally gave up on him. She left, and she did so without taking Cora and me with her.

My sister became my mother at way too young of an age.

Dad tried to take care of us. He loved us in his own way, but it was a struggle for him. He either couldn’t or didn’t want to hold down a steady job, so he went back to gambling. His biggest con was being a pool shark—a skill he’d taught Cora and me as well.

Cora hated it, but I rather enjoyed showing people they couldn’t judge a book by the cover. Dad would take us to the bar and pool hall with him. Cora would sit in the corner reading a book, while I stood next to my dad, beating the snot out of grown men at billiards—and I was only twelve years old.

Unfortunately, social services tended to frown on that behavior. Plus, Dad gambled with the wrong people and lost. Not only did he get us all nearly killed, but he landed in prison.