“Beka!” he said, sounding surprised. “I didn’t expect to see you. Did you make some kind of arrangement with my da that he forgot to mention?”
She shook her head. This was the part she’d been dreading since she figured out last night that she was going to need to use the boat again. What was she going to do if he turned her down? For a minute, she was tempted to lie and say yes, she’d already talked to his father, but she’d lied to Marcus enough already. Look at where that had gotten her.
“Um, no,” she said, “and I’m sorry to hear that he isn’t doing well. Is he in the hospital?”
Marcus gazed from her to Chewie, obviously puzzled, but for now, he simply answered the question. “No. He’s just tired and resting at home. It’s hard to tell how much of his exhaustion is the cancer, how much is the treatment, and how much is plain old discouragement.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here, Beka?”
She’d just been asking herself the same thing. She must have been out of her mind to think this would work. But Marcus already knew about her—and more importantly, about Chewie—and she didn’t know how in hell her plan could work using a boat full of people she had to come up with some kind of reasonable explanations for.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked, trying to keep the pleading out of her voice. “Alone?”
Marcus stared at her for a minute, then turned to Chico and Kenny. “Why don’t you guys take a lunch break.” He pulled out a couple of bills from his wallet and handed them to Chico. “It’s on me.”
Kenny’s face scrunched up in confusion. “But Marcus, it’s only seven in the morning.”
Chico grabbed the money and stuffed it in his back pocket, cuffing Kenny on the head and giving him a little push toward the gangplank. “You maybe would rather stay here and scrub the deck some more? Come on—we go get coffee. Maybe we can find someplace to buy you some brains too.” The older man gave Beka an encouraging smile as he passed her. “Buena suerte, chica.”
Beka thought she was going to need more than good luck. She was going to need a miracle.
*
MARCUS HAD NEVER been so happy to see someone in his entire life. Even though Beka looked like crap; she was pasty white under her tan, and her dark circles had dark circles. If he had a little more ego, he’d think she’d been pining for him. But he was pretty sure that wasn’t it. For the moment, he was just glad she was here. He’d find out why soon enough.
“You brought Chewie,” he said, for lack of anything more intelligent to say.
“Yes. Actually, he’s kind of why I’m here.” If he didn’t know Beka better, he’d swear she looked guilty. Obviously she was up to something, but it wasn’t diving, because she didn’t have any gear with her.
“Why don’t you come on board and tell me about it,” he said, and was rewarded by a shadow of her usual sunny smile. He realized with a shock that she hadn’t even been sure he’d let her on board.
He gave her a hand onto the boat, the dog bounding after her with a thump that shook the entire ship. “Hey,” he said softly, still holding on to her hand and gazing down into those amazing azure eyes. “You look terrible. Are you okay?”
Beka gave a tired laugh. “Still the charmer, eh?” Chewie woofed in what might have been agreement.
Marcus shook his head. “If you want charming, I’m afraid you’ll have to stick with your friend the Irishman. Or prince, or whatever he is.”
She pulled her hand out of his but didn’t move away from him. “He’s a rat and a murderer, actually. And he turns out to be behind both the problem I was trying to find a way to fix and the disappearing fish. That’s why I’m here. I need your help to stop him.”
Sonofabitch! He knew he didn’t trust that guy. “I’d be happy to stop him. Permanently, if necessary. But maybe you’d better tell me what the hell is going on. Obviously, I’ve missed a part of the story.” His own fault, for walking away just when it was getting good. Not a mistake he planned on making again, if he could help it.
Marcus guided Beka over to sit on a bench, Chewie sticking close to their heels.
“I’m sorry,” he and Beka both said at the same time. She looked startled, eyes so wide he could almost see the ocean in their depths.
“You’re sorry?” she said. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who didn’t tell you the truth from the beginning and let you think I was a normal woman.”
Marcus snorted. “I never thought you were normal, Beka. Hell, the first time I met you, I fished you out of the sea in a net. But normal is highly overrated.” He wanted so badly to reach out and hold her, but he was afraid she’d pull away if he tried. “I’m sorry I overreacted when you told me who—what—you really are. You’re still Beka, and I should have realized that.”