Page 8 of Too Far To Sea
Dana tossed her phone into the fanny pack she wore like a crossbody bag. Her mother had ridiculed the newest fashion, however it was extremely useful with crutches and better than wearing it on her belly or fanny like her mother did. She glancedaround the room again for anything she might need. Her key card lay on the bed. She was never that careless. Stress overload? Bad luck? Dana snatched it up and slid it in her pack. She started her second quest for ice.
4
The last ofthe passengers filed in. Of the thousands McKay saw today, Dana Knight stood out. Something about her didn’t quite fit the typical passenger profile. Maybe it was the way she scanned her surroundings. Something was off.
“Worth.” Chief Security Officer Alvaro’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “Office.”
McKay turned over command to the NECs in charge and hurried to the security office. On the far side of the room, the security crew monitored feeds from nearly three hundred CCTV cameras. He found Alvaro alternating between scanning the screens to checking his tablet, a deep frown etched on his face.
“Sir?”
Alvaro held up the tablet. A notification in a blue box with a familiar logo in the corner illuminated the screen:
Hastings Security App Connected: In Use
Hastings Security. The last time he’d heard that name, or seen the blue shield logo, he was a newly minted one-bar security officer on a cruise through the Panama Canal. The private security team had worked with the ship’s crew to protecta high-profile passenger. Although the cruise ended well, there had been some tense moments when both a passenger and a Hastings’s employee disappeared. McKay checked his phone. The same message appeared.
“Have we had any contact with Hastings? Who are they protecting?” Alvaro asked. He’d been on that ship too. The kidnapping of an oil heiress and the most unassuming security personnel McKay had ever seen resulted in a dramatic rescue and headlines which forced the cruise line to upgrade their security on every ship. “They know to contact us if they’re privately hired.”
“Contact with who?” asked Martina from her monitoring station, confusion evident in her voice.
The other crew members monitoring the CCTVs stared at him and Alvaro blankly. Only the highest-ranked officers had received the notification.
McKay felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. At his request the cruise line had shortened his contract by three months. He would be going on leave after this voyage to help his mother. With his brain so full, he didn’t need complications.
Alvaro’s next words came out in his native Portuguese. Far from fluent in the language, McKay recognized the expletives. “Mac, I hate to ask you, but since you were the only other one on that Panama sailing, will you find the source of this? Confirm they are not providing private security. Call their headquarters in Chicago if necessary. Then find out why our app says this.”
“On it.”
“Go now. I don’t want to pull the anchor until we find the source. The captain will not be happy.”
McKay sat at an empty computer terminal and sorted through the passenger list focusing on those who listed home addresses in the greater Chicago area. Forty-three people,including most of the bachelorette party in the Diamond Suite, came up. As did the bride’s parents. Dana Knight’s reservation was also linked to theirs. McKay read her reservation notes again. That’s what had caught his eye when she checked in— originally assigned to the largest suite with the bride, Miss Knight moved three weeks ago to the smallest level of interior rooms on the ship. That was odd. She’d indicated her injury was only a few days old.
After further analysis, three names stood out like buoys in a bay, and one of them belonged to Dana Knight.
Choosing to locate her first had nothing to do with the intelligent gray eyes she’d flashed at him earlier. It was a strategic choice. One, she was the least likely candidate, and Hastings used unlikely bodyguards. Logically, the least likely was the most viable candidate for a Hastings’s employee. Two, her crutches would make her easy to find in the ship’s security feeds. The CCTV coverage showed her entering her room twenty minutes ago.
McKay headed for the nearest service elevator, his mind racing. If she were here on assignment, he needed to know. If she wasn’t... Well, that was a dangerous line of thinking he shouldn’t pursue. He hurried along the corridor of deck 8, wishing it had long straight halls like most of the other decks. He turned a corner, only to collide with the woman in question and her crutches.
The impact sent Miss Knight off balance. Her crutches slipped from beneath her. Panic flashed across her face as she teetered. Acting on instinct, McKay reached out quickly, his hands finding purchase on her waist to steady her. Chestnut hair tumbled around her face in waves, and those startling gray eyes peered up at him from mere inches away. A hint of vanilla filled the space between them.
His breath caught. “I am so, so sorry. Are you okay?”
Miss Knight, her chest rising and falling rapidly, met McKay’s gaze with a mixture of surprise and the hidden exhaustion many jet-lagged passengers had the first day aboard. “I... I’m fine. Thank you for catching me. I should have been more careful with my crutches.”
McKay fought the smile that wanted to answer her as he eased his grip on her waist, making sure she had regained her balance. The brief contact left his hands tingling. He stepped back, reminding himself firmly that she was a passenger or an undercover security officer. Neither option was appropriate for the direction his thoughts wanted to take.
Dana turned sideways in the narrow corridor to allow him to pass. “I’ll let you go. You seem to be going somewhere in a hurry.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
“No, I was just going to get some ice.” Dana scanned the area. “Actually, you’re standing on my ice bag. If you could?”
McKay bent for the baby blue bag, noting its medical-grade design. “I can fill it if you would like.”
“No, I’m almost to the elevator.”
“Why didn’t you call room service?”
