Page 1 of Ship Happens
Chapter One
Frankie
My mother thinks this is a terrible idea. She’s seated on the couch in her living room. The space is clinical—all-white everything—which is at odds with my mother’s warm nature.
Yes, that was sarcasm. The woman is about as warm as a penguin’s asshole, but she’s my mother. It’s just her way.
She worries her nails, not gnawing them off but running them through her teeth. Such a nasty habit, but I won’t scold her this time. I understand her concern. A couple of agents going into a scenario filled with hardened killers is nothing to sniff at.
“Mama, I’ll be okay,” I say. I take her hands in mine to stop the incessant nail nipping. “I’m pushing forty, and I’ve finally been given a job in the field. Can’t you be happy for me?”
She shakes her head, sending her gray hair into a flurry around her head. “Couldn’t they send you to North Korea? Frankie, I don’t want you dealing with serial killers.” She shudders.
My mother and I are in similar lines of work, though her dealings have been more on the documented side. The general American public hears aboutheraccomplishments, especially after she studied some of the most notorious killers up close. My dealings, however...
I’m a ghost. Well, figuratively, and mostly from my office computer. I get in, I get out, and I try to leave as little trace of my existence as possible. There are no accolades, no public ceremonies to celebrate which dictator or crime lord I’ve toppled. It all happens beyond the public scope.
But it hasn’t been enough. I’ve wanted to go into the field, just like my mother, since the day I got the job. I haven’t been afforded this opportunity.
Until now.
“World leaders wield power and money,” my mother continues. “You won’t be swayed by that, but the killers, Frankie? They wield charisma, and that’s a far more powerful weapon.”
Another daughter would smirk at this, maybe even roll her eyes and tell her mother to stop being silly. But my mother speaks from experience, and I am the direct product of a difficult lesson learned.
“I’ll be careful, Mama.” I place my hand over hers, then rise to stand. “My meeting with Castle is soon, though, so I need to head out. I thought we could have dinner before I leave, but the plans have been moved up.”
“This is all happening so fast,” she says. Her hand rises toward her mouth again, and I lean down to place it back in her lap.
I pat her hand once more. “I’ll be gone for two weeks. The first week is the mission, and the second week is the debrief. Maybe longer if I discover something substantial.”
“If you come back at all.”
NowI roll my eyes. “I’ll be back in three weeks at the most. Just plan to take me to dinner when I return. I want to eat at the Italian manor.”
“Deluca’s?”
“That’s the one.” I squeeze her shoulder and stand. “Make a reservation for the nineteenth at seven. I’m sure to be back by then.”
“You wouldn’t miss a dinner at Deluca’s for the world,” she says as her shoulders finally relax.
“Exactly, so you know I’ll be back.”
My mother relents with a nod, though she won’t meet my eyes. She still isn’t happy about this mission, but I don’t blame her for her fears. I don’t know many mothers who would want their daughter to plant themselves in a situation that puts them within a serial killer’s grasp, let alone an entire ship full of them.
But that’s exactly what I’ll be doing, and Castle will join me. It’s the first time our agency has required we work as a team, which means they want to hedge their bets. They expect to lose at least one of us, so they sent the second as an insurance policy.
Hi. I’m the insurance policy.
Castle was none too pleased when he learned I’d be accompanying him. He was supposed to head this mission alone. It’s simple enough on the surface. Break into a rumored serial-killer retreat, then get evidence that can take down the suspected kingpin: none other than Jim Madigan, the Siesta Killer. He’s been on our radar for years, but he’s always one step ahead of us. If we can take him down, his entire murdery empire will go with him.
“The nineteenth at seven!” I shout as I open the front door. “Don’t forget!”
“Don’t fall in love!” she shouts back.
I scoff and shake my head with a smile. Not,Don’t die, or,Don’t get hurt. With the serial killers, she’s most concerned about my heart.
No worries there. My contract demands I remain a lone wolf, and my job means more to me than a meaningful connection with a human being. If I have urges, I can handle them myself. I’ve never gotten off with any help from a man, anyway, so I’m not missing out on much.
