Damaged (Maggie O'Dell #8)

Another wave almost capsized the boat. The tuna bag slammed into Walter. He pressed his heels into one wall and his shoulders against the other, wedging himself tight. When the boat rocked back down, the tuna bag slid toward the steps but Walter stayed put.

Something told him it was all a big roller-coaster ride to this kid. He knew guys like Joe Black in the navy. They loved the adventure, the more dangerous the better. They craved it. He recognized a bit of that in himself. He saw it in his daughter Liz, and he worried it could end up getting her hurt. There always came a time when the rush wasn’t enough or when you thought you were invincible because you had survived. What was it Liz had told him they said these days? You looked the beast in the face and won? So you upped the ante, took bigger and bigger risks.

No, Walter wasn’t surprised that the hurricane didn’t deter Joe. A moment later he was saying, “Hey, Walter, I wish you didn’t have to be tied up, ’cause I think you’d be enjoying this. You should see it from up here. Bet you spent rougher times out on the seas, huh?” There was more static then a click-click and he thought the connection had failed.

Then Joe added, “Might have lost you there. These radios need updating.”

Walter waited out another crest—up, up, up, and finally back down. The tuna bag rolled to one side and crashed into the other, but he stayed put.

“I learned from my dad, Walter. You can’t put off living the good life. You’ve got to take what you can whenever you can. And after all those years when my dad got sick and the navy didn’t do right by him … well, let’s just say I’m evening the score.”

Another surge.

“And you know what else, Walter? I’ve learned to love hurricanes. You just have to work them to your favor.”

Walter thought Joe was referring to the roller-coaster ride. It didn’t occur to him what Joe really meant until he saw the tuna bag moving, the zipper working its way down.

“Yup, these hurricanes have been a cash cow for me this summer. Because you know what? People disappear all the time after a hurricane. A missing person suddenly becomes a donor. You know how much one body’s worth these days?”

Walter’s head pounded and he blinked his eyes hard, thinking maybe he was hallucinating. He twisted and jerked around to see better, holding his breath while he watched a bruised and battered Charlotte Mills crawl out of the tuna bag.





CHAPTER 58





Maggie knew she’d need more than a couple of capsules of powdered ginger to get her through this. Why had she ever thought Liz Bailey’s offer of “a ride” off Pensacola Beach would be simple? Why? Because she had no idea what to expect. What was it that she had said to Charlie Wurth yesterday? “It’s one storm. How bad can it be?”

Everyone kept calling these the “outer bands,” but the air was already too thick to breathe. Maggie felt like the world had been tipped on its side. Trees bent sideways. The rain poured in horizontal streams. The few people outside teetered from side to side, leaning into the wind to avoid being blown over. She struggled to keep her own balance while sand pelted her skin like a million tiny pinpricks.

Then as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Maggie swore she could even see a swirl of blue sky through the layers of gray overhead. Liz had finished gearing up and was watching her.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Sure. Absolutely,” Maggie said, zipping open her flight suit just enough to show Liz her shoulder holster and Smith & Wesson tucked inside. “I’ve got all the control I need,” she joked.

Liz smiled but was unsuccessful in covering her concern. It wasn’t quite the same look Maggie had seen in Liz’s eyes when she thought her father might be in danger. Earlier, there had been just a hint of panic and Maggie’s immediate reaction was to squelch it. Truth was, Liz’s father might be in danger if he was still with Joe Black, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it right now.

She could tell Liz had switched into rescue mode.

“How can you be so brave?” Maggie asked her.

Liz smiled at her again until she realized Maggie wasn’t joking.

“My first instinct is simply to survive.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow. She wanted to understand.

“Just because I go up in a helicopter or plunge down into the ocean doesn’t make me brave. It just makes me a bit crazy.” She gave a short laugh. “Look, I know there are things you do instinctively, too. Things that I wouldn’t dare. Rescuing someone and coming face-to-face with a killer, in the end both those situations come down to our instinct to survive.” She shrugged. “I don’t have time to think about being brave. I bet you don’t, either.”

Maggie wanted to ask her how she had gotten so wise. She realized Liz was waiting for some response, some sign of agreement or understanding. But Maggie simply nodded.