"Damn, Zoe, I'm sorry for going off on you yesterday. Don't think I don't want the truth to come out about what happened to Dad, because I do."
"I know that."
"Whatever it is, I can take it. It's one thing to live with not knowing who shot him because his killer's in Colombia or New Jersey or someplace and there's just no realistic chance we'll ever know. But if he's here in Goose Harbor, if we can find him, or her, or them-" She trailed off, leaving it at that. "I need to get back to work."
She took her coffee with her and swung off, more energetic and focused if not calmer.
"Hey, Agent McGrath," one of the lobstermen, a wiry guy somewhere between fifty and a million, called to him. "You going to find the bastard who tossed a grenade into your boat? We can't have some asshole running around town torching boats."
It was one thing to tease him-they knew they'd never act on their threats, that they were all in good fun. It was another to have someone come damn close to destroying all their livelihoods.
"The police are on it." He got to his feet and glanced down at Zoe. "I should go back down there. You?"
She rose, handing him his coffee. "Take it with you. I have an in with the owner. We can bring our mugs back when we're done. I don't know about you, but this stuff's burning a hole in my stomach, although I could use about a gallon of coffee this morning."
"Not much sleep last night?"
"As much as you got, Agent McGrath."
The drizzle had picked up, now a fine, bone-chilling, misting rain, but the cops didn't seem to notice. The firefighters were heading out, which meant they were satisfied there were no other explosive devices in the vicinity and the fire danger was over. Although he had an urge to hold Zoe close, keep her warm, J.B. just walked beside her down to the water.
Stick Monroe was hovering on the edge of the taped-off crime scene in his corduroy shorts and sweatshirt. "I heard what happened," he told Zoe. "What an asinine thing to do. What the hell was the point? It must have been Teddy Shelton. He's an idiot. I warned Luke."
Zoe stared at him. "You knew Luke'd hired him?"
"Not immediately. I thought about telling you but decided it would only upset you unnecessarily." He glared down at the lobster boat. "It was a judgment call."
"Not a very good one! Stick, what were you thinking?"
He settled his dark eyes on her. "I was thinking about you. So was Luke. He was concerned, not irrationally, I might add, that McGrath here would stir up trouble and you and Christina would get caught in the crossfire."
"Luke wasn't trying to protect me."
"You underestimate your importance to people, Zoe. You always have. You help them, you're there for them, but when they try to do the same, you question their motives."
Zoe didn't push. "Luke says he fired Shelton."
"Let's hope." Stick sighed, shifting his gaze back down to the ruined boat. "He had nothing to do with this little show. Shelton 's playing his own game now. Don't for one second think he's gone away. He knows Luke's rich. He'll find a way to try to blackmail him, extort money from him."
"What about you?" J.B. asked. "Do you think Shelton will come after you?"
The old judge snorted. "I hope he does. He'll land up in prison for an even longer stretch this time."
Zoe hunched her shoulders against the rain and the cold, and J.B. could feel her focus, her determination as she beat back her concern for her friends and family. "Kyle's BMW pulled out of here a minute or two after the explosion. It almost ran Chris over. She didn't see the driver. They both could have been blinded by the explosion, but who knows."
Stick frowned. "It wasn't Kyle?"
"She doesn't know."
"If it wasn't-"
"Stick, you've dealt with Teddy Shelton. Is it possible he snatched Kyle as a way of putting pressure on Luke and extorting money from him?"
"It's possible, but money isn't what motivates Teddy. At least it's not his central motivation. He likes guns. You'd think seven years in the custody of the federal government would have had an effect, but I remember thinking when I sentenced him that he'd be back-he'd never give up illegal weapons."
J.B. could feel the drizzle collecting on his hair. "The police-"
The judge cut him off. "They have Teddy's record. They know everything I know, and then some, no doubt." He turned back to Zoe and touched a finger to the glistening drizzle on her hair just above her ear. "You'll be okay? How's your hand?"
"It's fine." She smiled at him, her lips a little purple. "You're retired. Go dig in your garden."
"It's compost day." But he seemed distracted, an old man unsettled by the goings-on in the quiet, pretty village where he'd retired. "I heard the explosion. I wonder if this is what Teddy wanted-all of us up and focused on grenades and blowing up boats while he- " He broke off, shaking his head. "Well, I don't know. That's why we have law enforcement."
After he left, Bruce rejoined Zoe and J.B. "You're the talk of the town, J.B. Look-" He pulled J.B. aside, out of Zoe's earshot. "There's a rowboat sinking in the harbor. Marine patrol's all over it. I'm guessing it was Teddy's transportation."
"From?"
"The lobster pound. If I'm right, it's the rowboat that was turned over off to the side. I was going to salvage what I could from it and get rid of it, but I never got around to it. It probably made it here and gave up the ghost."
J.B. considered the logic of taking a rowboat from the lobster pound to the harbor and the docks. It would be slow but quiet. Unexpected. Risky- Shelton had to know the police were looking for him and he'd be in big trouble if they caught him with his flash-bang.
"I'm thinking about driving down to the lobster pound and taking a look around," Bruce said. "Bruce-"
"I know. You're the freaking FBI. You've got procedures." He seemed oblivious to the weather and grinned at J.B. "You coming?"
Zoe thrust herself back in between them, apparently having been left out of the conversation for as long as she was going to stand. "What're you two plotting?"
J.B. handed her his coffee mug. "Bruce and I are going down to the lobster pound. You'll stay here with your sister?"
"I like the way you make that a question instead of an order. Maybe I should go instead of you. I've already been fired."
"What?" Bruce winked at her. "We're just going to talk lobstering. McGrath thinks he knows everything about it."
Zoe rolled her eyes. "You're both full of it. Go. Just keep me posted."
Something about her struck J.B. as vulnerable, a lightning rod for too many people's sense of personal inadequacy, a woman who had her world shattered and was still trying to fight back. An image of her last night came at him, and he decided-screw it. He leaned toward her. "Want me to kiss you goodbye, warm you up a little? You can prove to all of Goose Harbor you're not a repressed Yankee."
"You know, McGrath-" But she stopped, and without warning, kissed him lightly, boldly. She smiled cheekily. "Now who's embarrassed? I don't know if your pals in the FBI have rolled in yet."
"One thing about me, Detective Zoe-I don't embarrass."
Bruce grinned at him. "You work fast, don't you, McGrath? Leave it to Zoe. She gets fired, she learns to knit. Now she falls for a bad-boy FBI agent."
The repressed Yankee in her was back. "I haven't fallen for anyone."
"Yeah, right." Bruce wasn't buying it. "Come on, Agent McGrath. We'll take my truck."
Thirty
Zoe slipped behind the counter and fixed eggs and home fries with a little onion and green pepper while her sister, humming a sad tune, popped a pan of apple-cinnamon muffins into the oven. The lobstermen had all gone out to pry information out of the police, then hit their boats, late, with plenty to think about as they worked their strings of traps.
Christina hadn't put out a Closed sign, but between the lousy weather and a grenade going off on the docks, customers were few. But Betsy O'Keefe was one of them. She took a table overlooking the harbor. Zoe set the eggs and home fries in front of her and sat down. "You look like you could use a good breakfast, Betsy. Did the festivities this morning wake you up?"