Rye, New Hampshire
The photo held memories of a happier time for a now-broken family. Atticus sat in the sand, building a sand castle with a little girl Andrea could only assume was his dead daughter, Giona. His hands intertwined with those of the girl, who looked to be about seven, drizzled wet sand on the castle walls. The dripping sand created small structures that looked more like miniature versions of the stone spires that decorate the desert of Moab. But beyond the obvious sand-castling skills, it was the woman to Atticus’s side who held Andrea’s attention.
Her hair had been caught by the wind and partially covered her and Atticus’s faces. Her eyes were bright, full of life, and her full, puckered lips were kissing Atticus on the cheek. The photo embodied everything Andrea always felt a family should be. In the moment the camera’s iris opened, collected, and recorded the light, it captured an image that Norman Rockwell would have been proud to produce. There was one large discrepancy between Rockwell’s paintings and the photo-the latter pictured reality. A family in love, once hale, but since wrecked by time.
Andrea had never met his wife or daughter, but knowing that everything in this image had been taken from Atticus struck a chord in her heart. To love so deeply and have it taken away in two devastating instants could destroy a man…or woman. She knew that from experience.
Giving little thought to the act, Andrea removed the framed photo from the hallway wall and took it to the kitchen. She opened the frame and removed the four-by-six picture. She flipped it over and read the back.
2001, old orchard beach, Atti, Maria, and Gi Gi.
The handwriting was beautiful and feminine-a reminder of the woman whose loving face graced the front of the picture. She looked at the photo again, and rather than feeling envious or even jealous of the woman whose lips were pressed against the cheek of the man who’d been her first real love, she was filled with a sense of kinship…of responsibility.
She imagined Maria’s voice, urging her, Take care of him. But would she mind? Had he ever told Maria about their young love? About his broken heart…if that was what he’d experienced at all? There was no way to be sure, but the woman in the photo would most certainly appreciate someone looking out for her husband. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Funny,” a friendly yet masculine voice said, “I thought that would be my job.”
Andrea turned quickly to the voice. A man whose eyes were Atticus’s yet whose pudgy body revealed a life more adapted to sitting behind a computer rather than that of a former Navy SEAL, stood in the doorway. His brother, older and rounder perhaps, but she still recognized him.
“Been a long time, Andrea,” he said.
“Hello, Conner.”
He smiled, stepping into the kitchen, and shook her hand. “So, Coast Guard, huh? Isn’t this a little out of your jurisdiction?” He motioned to the empty frame on the table but didn’t let her respond.
“He never did stop pining for you, you know.” He sat down next to her and pointed at the photo still in her hand. “Not until he met her, anyway. And that was after he left the Navy. I always wondered if he’d try to find you again after Maria passed; looks like he did. How long has he been keeping you a secret from us?”
Andrea’s stare was a mix of confusion and guilt.
Conner’s eyebrows rose high. “You’re not together, are you?”
“No,” she replied. “Is he with…someone?”
“No, no. Not that I know of anyway. I thought he might be holding out on me, but if you’re not his girlfriend, then he’s been telling the truth. Not that he doesn’t need one; mind you…the job’s open if you want it.”
Andrea smiled.
Conner’s eyes returned to the photo in her hands. His lips suddenly turned down, his voice grew cold. “I was behind the camera in that picture. I’m no photographer, but that’s the best shot I ever took. I have the same one hanging on my wall at home. There’s just something about it. He had everything, you know?” Conner sighed. “I have a family. I love my wife. My kids are great. But that”-he pointed at the photo-“is something I’ve never experienced.”
Andrea felt a twinge of guilt take root in her gut. She handed the picture to Conner. “I was going to give it to him when I found him.”
In that instant, Conner seemed to forget about the photo. “He’s not here?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
Andrea wasn’t sure how to respond. She had just returned to Atticus’s life and wasn’t even sure if she was welcome. She didn’t know how he’d feel about her divulging what she knew-what she suspected, but this was his brother. Her memories of Conner included a lot of teasing and arguing. But they were brothers…and Conner had come to Atticus’s aid. Before she could utter a syllable, Conner spoke up.
“He went after it,” Conner said. “Damn it.”
It wasn’t a question. He simply knew, just like that, just as she had.
“How did you know?”
He shook his head. “It’s always been a weird thing with Atticus. People who love him can read him like a book.”
Andrea remembered the hospital. She’d had the same feeling. She had known he intended to go after the creature.
“I don’t know the details yet,” she added, “but I’m going to try tracking him down. He was picked up this morning by a helicopter. They headed out to sea.”
“The man moves fast. Was it Navy?”
Andrea shook her head. “No, but I’ll find out who owns it.”
“You’ll bring him back?”
“If I can.”
Conner handed the picture back. “Give this to him when you find him.”
“I will,” she said as she stood, suddenly more resolute about finding him right away. “Will you be here?”
Conner smiled again, forcing back his good nature. “I’ve nowhere else to go.”
Andrea smiled and headed for the door. Conner stopped her with his voice.
“You know…it’s a rare woman who will drop everything and search the high seas for an old friend. Even if it is her job.”
Andrea’s face heated as her embarrassment grew.
“Your picture was in the paper and on the news,” he said, with a knowing smile. “Thanks for going to his rescue. Thanks for going now.”
Andrea nodded, surprised by the kindness in Conner’s voice. He knew who she was-an old friend, almost something more, but really just a woman who by chance was on the job when his brother needed help. Any number of people could have got to him first. She might have had a cold, and it would have been someone else giving him mouth to mouth after he’d thrown up while unconscious and choked on his own bile. She knew Atticus had no idea she’d resuscitated him, that he’d been dead, if only for a moment. She wondered if he might even resent being brought back. His brother had no idea either, yet there he was, acting as though she were…
“Andrea,” he added, interrupting her thoughts, “welcome back to the family.”
With those few words, Andrea’s thoughts cleared. For eight years she’d spent every waking moment with Atticus, and many of them with his family as well. They’d eaten, played, laughed, and adventured together. Inseparable. Kindred. Family. Those memories formed the bond that motivated her now, regardless of their broken past or feelings about what might have been. They were family. And that was enough.
16
Gulf of Maine-Aboard the Titan
Serrated teeth tore through flesh, rending sinew and vessel, crushing bones and doing a precise job at what they were designed to do-kill.
Atticus watched in amazement as white membranes slid over the obsidian eyes of the great white shark tearing into a tuna. He’d seen great whites feeding, as well as many other sharks, but never… never in the Gulf of Maine, nor a shark so enormous.
“It’s at least thirty feet long!” Atticus stood at what he now knew was a pane of glass looking out at the undersea world below the waterline.
“Twenty-eight, actually,” replied Trevor, who was now standing beside Atticus, watching the shark.