Undercurrent

Sam glanced at his grandmother and a sheepish expression softened his face. “Good,” he said. “Hopefully, that will keep you both out of trouble while I’m gone.”

His eyes held a teasing glint, and Kat’s stomach flipped. She moved toward the phone and away from all the feelings he stirred up.

“We’ll be fine,” she said and picked up the phone to call the concierge station as Sam left the room. After the phone rang several times with no answer, Kat gave up for the time being. “I’ll try again in a few minutes.”

“You coming, then?” Alice asked as she stepped onto the balcony, then looked back at Kat. “Or maybe you’d like to freshen up first? It might feel good to splash some water on your face.”

“I think I’ll do that,” Kat said. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.” She walked to the bathroom, her side aching where the scars stretched taut, shoulder bruised from rolling off the stage. Her gown was ruined, but that was the least of her concerns.

A deep shadow of unease swept in and stole the relief she’d felt earlier after escaping the chandelier. Could Sam’s intuition be on the mark? What if someone had deliberately caused the explosion? She tried to push the thought away. Sam may be suspicious of her ex, but the idea of Max setting a bomb off was ludicrous to anyone who knew him. That wasn’t the kind of fire he played with.

Regardless, Kat wanted to know what exactly had happened in the atrium. And she wanted off this ship before something else happened.

Days from land in every direction, she knew she was stuck.

She closed herself in the bathroom. The mirror glared back at her in the bright fluorescent light and she winced as a headache flared. What a mess. Debris dotted her hair. Dust smudged her nose and her right cheek. Her eyes were bloodshot, burning from the too-familiar sting of smoke. Mascara smudged under her eyes. Hard to believe only an hour had passed since she’d left her cabin for her performance.

She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she had survived, but she didn’t feel relieved in the least. An eerie sense of danger crawled along her spine, dread pitting in her stomach. The opportunity to travel the world for the summer on a cruise ship had seemed like a gift—a chance to recharge and renew her spirits.

Sunshine. That was what Morgan had said. You need lots of sunshine. And to put some distance between you and Max.

It had worked, for a little while. Performing and sightseeing and experiencing the peace and relaxation of the open waters, Kat had begun to feel more like herself again. Over the past couple of days, though, alone in her room, the quiet had gotten to her. The sunshine she’d been hanging on to replaced with shadows of sadness from the past, and the enormity of what she’d be returning to at the end of the summer...a brand-new house, empty of everything that made it home.

The photos and videos. The scent of her father’s cologne. The piano she’d woken up to Christmas morning when she was six years old.

Gone. All of it.

At least she had escaped.

Not your time to go. That was what her dad would have said. He’d believed that everything happened for a reason, and Kat had always believed that, too.

Lately, though, she’d begun to question. Her losses kept stacking up, and she wasn’t sure what else she had left to lose.

What purpose had her parents’ deaths served? And why would God spare Kat’s life but allow a fire to destroy her home—the home she’d grown up in—and with it all her tangible memories?

The questions swirled through her mind, but she had no answers. For now, she’d just have to clean up and be happy she could do it.

She turned on the faucet and washed her face, grateful for the warm water running over her chilled hands and rinsing the grime away. She pulled her hair out of its makeshift bun and finger combed it, then wet a hand towel, rubbing it along her arms and neck. She looked a little better, but still she stood, staring back at her herself. Willing herself not to think about what would have happened if Sam hadn’t been in the atrium tonight. Forcing herself not to think about his questions, but, of course, she couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Enemies? No one came to mind. She wasn’t prone to conflict, never had been. Growing up as an only child had instilled in Kat a sense of peace and order that she’d carried with her into adulthood. She didn’t like to make waves, and she tried not to hang around people who did. Life was too uncertain, she’d found, to allow anger and bitterness to fester.

Even after Max’s betrayal, she tried not to let her emotions take control. Letting him go had been much easier than she’d expected. She realized that perhaps she’d been more in love with the idea of settling down and starting a family than she’d been in love with Max.

Now she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do after her contract was up. There was a certain allure to the sea, but it was a short-term gig. She could go back to teaching at the university, or she could open a private piano studio. She could take a year off and concentrate on composing music for a new CD. Nothing sounded enticing lately, and she hoped her path would become clear given a little more time.

“God is in control,” she whispered at her reflection. She used to believe that. Even after her mother’s death, Kat’s trust in God had never wavered. Lately, though, she’d wondered.

Surely, He could have given her just a little more time with her father. Why bring her back home and draw her in deep only to take him away so soon?

At least you had some time with him. That was what Morgan had reminded her quietly, and Kat knew she was right. But it hurt. And now she was more alone than she’d ever been.

Watching Sam with his grandmother reminded her of what she was missing, what she’d been missing for most of her life. A real sense of family. People to share life with. Morgan was the closest thing she had to family now, and she was anxious to get back to her room so she could check on her.

A quiet tap sounded at the bathroom door. “Everything okay in there?” Alice called from the other side.

Kat opened the door. “Yes, thanks. I feel a lot better now.”

Alice swept a quick glance over Kat and nodded. “Still in one piece, and all cleaned up. Too bad about the dress.”

Kat stepped out into the room. “It was my favorite one. My dad bought it for me.” And since the dress had been at the dry cleaner’s the week of the fire, it had been one of the only things she had left of her father.

Through slurred speech that was painful to listen to, he’d apologized for missing out on so much, for being too absorbed in his own grief to help Kat through hers. Said he should have done the things a mother would have done, like taking her for manicures and buying her a prom dress. So he’d told her he wanted to buy her next concert gown. Morgan had gone with her, snapped photos of Kat in her favorite choices. Later, Kat had come home to show her father the pictures and ask his opinion.

He’d never see her in a wedding gown or walk her down the aisle, but she’d at least shared those moments with him and seen the love shimmering in his fading brown eyes.

The memory hit her suddenly and without warning, and she felt the heat of tears threaten. She walked to the chair and grabbed the blanket, facing away from Alice so she wouldn’t see.

“Still chilly?” Alice said. “I got through to the concierge while you were in the bathroom, and they said they’d get your key to you soon.”

“Oh, thank you. It’ll be nice to change into some dry clothes.”

“For sure. Come on out to the balcony with me. Knowing Sam, he’ll be a while yet.” She smiled, pride lighting her eyes. “He was born for the work he does. It’s as if God gave him an extra little bit of bravery and honor. He’s just...not your average young man. But I’m sure you noticed.”

“He was the only one running toward me while the chandelier was coming down.”

“Exactly!” Alice nodded as if they’d just agreed on some deep philosophical truth. “Now, let’s sit down and try to enjoy this evening,” she said cheerfully. “It isn’t every day we face death straight on and live to tell about it.”

Her words did anything but cheer Kat. She hadn’t faced death once, but twice, and she didn’t want to face it again anytime soon.

FOUR

The sharp scent of burned wiring stung Sam’s nose as he made his way down the nearly empty stairway. He expected voices echoing up from the atrium, but the ship was eerily quiet. He hurried down the stairs, anxious for a good look at the scene, wanting to get a better feel for what had happened.

He hoped it was simply an electrical malfunction, but his gut told him otherwise. The timing had been too convenient—a lot of people had been streaming through the atrium while Kathryn performed and could have been taken out by the explosion. It was a hallmark of a terrorist act: injure as many people as possible. Ship security was tight, but criminals always managed to find a way.

An image of Kat flashed in his mind: the horror that washed over her face as the flames burst right above her.

He’d seen that same look on his wife’s face many times in his nightmares. For months after the car accident, he saw those terror-stricken eyes whenever he turned out the lights. Had Marissa seen the broken-down truck at the last minute and known her life was about to end? If he’d cut out on work and come home just a day earlier, would she still be alive today? Would he be at home right now, playing with their two-year-old daughter?

He would never find the answers to satisfy his feelings of guilt. Sam wasn’t used to failing, and he didn’t plan to make a habit of it. He would find answers for Kat, and he would make sure that she and his grandmother both made it safely off the ship and back home.

“Sir!” someone called, drawing Sam’s thoughts back to the present. To the musty, smoke-filled air. To the broken bits of piano two floors down. To the two cruise employees who were moving up the stairs, heading straight for Sam.

Neither looked old enough to have graduated high school. The taller of the two caught up with Sam and attempted to stand in his way. Lanky and awkward, he wore a white uniform that was just a little short in the pants and arms.

“We’ve been asked to remind passengers to stay in their cabins until further notice,” he said.

Sam narrowed his gaze and waited a beat. Watched the young men shift uncomfortably.

“Thank you for the reminder,” he finally said. “But I don’t intend to stay in my cabin.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” The second crew member joined the first, jogging up behind his coworker as if to offer moral and physical support.

He could offer whatever he wanted, but Sam would go where he desired.

“No?” He took a step closer, and the two exchanged worried glances. Sam didn’t make a habit of physically intimidating people, but he towered over both kids and probably had fifty pounds of muscle on each of them. He doubted they’d attempt to detain him.

“It’s for passenger safety,” the second of the two said. Much shorter than his buddy, he had freckled skin and dark brown eyes behind round glasses. He pushed them higher up the bridge of his nose and shifted anxiously. “It should only be for a couple of hours.”

“Look, you’ve done your job,” Sam responded. “You’ve warned me. I’ve decided to ignore you. If something happens, you can tell your boss and anyone who asks that you did your due diligence.”

“But—” the freckle-faced kid began.

“Go ahead and let your boss know.” Sam walked past them, ignoring the sputtered protests and unhappy shouts. They’d call Security, and he’d deal with that, too. He’d been hardwired from day one to be proactive. His parents said he’d always been a daredevil. His siblings said he was too independent for his own good. They were right, but he used both qualities to his advantage in his work.

In his personal life? Sometimes they got him into trouble. Sometimes they kept him from remembering important dates like birthdays and anniversaries. And 3-D sonogram pictures. Memories of his failures were never on short supply lately, hadn’t been for the past two years. His work kept him from falling too deeply into a pattern of regret. With a job to do, there was simply no time to dwell on the past.

Two uniformed security officers and a firefighter met him as he turned onto the second flight of steps, their expressions hard. Unlike the kids who’d tried to stop him before, these three looked as if they meant business.

“Sir, you’re going to have to return to your cabin,” a bulky guy with a menacing demeanor said. His name badge said “Larsen,” but he didn’t bother to introduce himself. He stared hard at Sam, arms crossed, feet in a wide stance that was meant to intimidate. “We’re investigating a fire that occurred in the lobby below,” the man continued. “All passengers need to stay clear of the area for their own safety.”

Sam pulled out his wallet. He didn’t have his credentials, but he handed over a business card. “Sam West, Secret Service,” he said. “I was there when the incident occurred. I think we all know it wasn’t a simple fire.”

“We don’t know anything,” the second officer said. A few years younger than Larsen and at least three inches taller, the officer looked fit and strong in his tailored uniform, his blond hair in a high fade cut. Sam pegged him as former military, and that might play to Sam’s advantage. “I don’t guess we need the Secret Service involved,” the officer said. “We’re trying to avoid contaminating evidence.”

“Before the Secret Service, I worked for the Miami PD,” Sam added. “I’m not trying to get in your way. I just figured the more hands, the better.”

“Right.” Larsen’s eyes gleamed black with anger. No one liked other departments nosing in on their investigations. “I don’t think we need any more hands. We’ve got things—”

“Actually—” the younger man cut him off “—it might not be a bad thing to have an extra set of eyes. I’m Nick Callahan. A good friend of mine works for the Miami PD—his name’s Brent Mitchem.” He held a hand out toward Sam, and they shook.

“Brent Mitchem, solid officer,” Sam said. “Got to know him pretty well on the night shift a few years back.”

“How ’bout that?” Nick said with a brief smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Then it was gone, and he was all business again. “Been working cruises for nine years, and I’ve never seen anything like this before. Come on. I’ll bring you down. Don’t touch anything, though. We need to preserve the scene.”

“Now, hold on a minute,” Larsen said, face ruddy with agitation. “Policy—”

“Policy,” Nick cut in, “should welcome an extra pair of eyes. We’ve got six thousand people on board with no way to evacuate.” He looked pointedly at his partner. “Why don’t you check on his creds? As long as they check out, and I’m sure they will, there’s no reason to keep him in the dark about what’s going on.”

“You’re the boss,” Larsen muttered as he brushed past them, and Nick motioned toward the man next to him.

“This is Colton Hughes. He heads up our firefighting team.”

“Nice to meet you.” Sam offered a hand, appreciated the firefighter’s firm grip and steady gaze.

“Appreciate your coming down,” Hughes said as Nick finally began to lead the way down two more flights of stairs to the atrium.

Sam was anxious to get to the scene, observe what he could and return to the room to check on Grandma and Kathryn. He didn’t want to leave them alone for long, especially Kat.

Back home, he’d have the discipline to keep his distance from a woman like Kat, the kind of woman whose smile alone could stir up dreams he hadn’t entertained for two years. But here on the ship Sam felt he had a duty to stay close. At least that was what he tried to tell himself, even as Kathryn’s liquid amber eyes flashed in his mind. He’d seen sadness there behind her easy sense of humor, and an inner strength that drew him in.

Sam denied the thought almost as soon as it rose, focusing instead on the atrium ahead as he and the other two men exited the stairwell on deck eight.

The smoke had cleared, leaving behind a gray film over every surface and an acrid scent Sam couldn’t quite place. Shards of crystal lay heaped with splintered wood and twisted piano strings. Yellow tape cordoned off most of the atrium. Sam’s gaze traveled straight up from the mess to the scorched opening in the ceiling.

“That’s a lot of damage,” he said. “Will we dock at the nearest port?”

“The closest port is where we’re headed.”

Sam had expected as much, but had hoped to hear otherwise. A week ago, they’d departed from São Paulo, Brazil, making two other stops in the country before embarking on the next leg of their trip—a seven-night journey to the Canary Islands.

Impeccable timing, for sure, with three days left at sea before reaching their destination. The realization only fed his suspicion that it wasn’t an accident that had caused the chandelier to fall.

“Any leads on what happened?”

Sam had expected to see a crew of officers combing through the debris for evidence, but he counted only three officers in the area other than Nick, and they stood outside the borders of the yellow tape.

Nick shook his head. “We don’t have the means to perform a thorough investigation on a cruise ship. Our job is to preserve the scene until we dock.”

Sam didn’t like the sounds of that. With three days until they reached land, they needed to discover the origin of the explosion in the atrium before something worse happened.

“What about security footage?”

Nick pointed to a spot two decks above, parallel to where the chandelier had hung. “I’ve got men scrolling through footage from that camera specifically. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get a closer view of how it all started.”

“What are your initial thoughts on the cause?” Sam asked.

Nick was quiet for a moment, not taking his eyes off the wreckage. Finally, he gestured toward Colton. “Colton suggested it could have started with a bulb exploding. That could account for the popping sound many people heard.”

“Is that a common malfunction?”

Colton shook his head. “Rare. And not likely to cause such a big fire.”

“Could it have caused the chandelier to come down?” Sam pressed, because the theory didn’t sit right with him.

“Not unless one exploded and caused several others to explode in succession.”

“Is that possible?”

Colton nodded. “Sure. Anything’s possible. Could also be faulty wiring. Ship’s pretty new—this is only her second year at sea.”

“So, we’re talking a long shot.” Sam peered up at the hole in the ceiling. “I’d say there was more to it than a few bulbs popping. Do you agree?”

Neither man seemed eager to share more, but Sam was sure they were all following the same line of thought. Someone had caused the chandelier to fall. Deliberately.

“Off the record,” he assured them. “I’d be the last one to spread word that could incite panic.”

Nick turned to Sam, a troubled expression in his eyes. “The most unlikely scenario, of course—it could have been a bomb.”

Sam said nothing. The theory didn’t surprise him. Several times he had replayed the sounds he’d heard, the loud pop, the explosion. And that chemical scent.

“Why unlikely?” Sam asked. In his opinion, a bomb was the most likely possibility.

“Our security policies are tighter than even air-travel policies. It’d be tough to get explosives on board,” Nick said.

“Looks to me like someone may have figured out a way,” Sam said. “You can’t ignore the extent of the damage.”

“Hard to believe the pianist made it out alive,” Nick said. “You said you were there when it happened?”

“I was a few feet away.”

Nick glanced at him, assessing. “Some witnesses said an unknown man pushed the pianist out of the way just before the chandelier came down. That you?”

“Yes.”

“You see anything or hear anything before then?”

“Thought I did,” Sam said. “Saw a man rushing through the crowd and into the coffee shop over there.” He pointed in the direction of the shop. “Almost as soon as he was gone, I heard the loud pop, and the chandelier burst into flames.”

“Did you get a good look at him?” Nick asked, eyes lit with interest.

“No. Just saw his back in a passing glimpse. Dark jacket, black ball cap, dark pants, maybe cargo-style.”

Nick turned toward the coffee shop. “I’ll have my team pay close attention to footage from that angle, too.”

“Excuse me, I’ve got a briefing with my team,” Colton said from behind them. “Callahan, we’ll catch up later. Sam, good to meet you.” He hurried back toward the steps and away from the accident scene.

“Any chance I can get a look at that security footage?” Sam asked, and Nick hesitated.

“Let me get back to you on that,” he said. “I’ll need you to verify the person you saw when we get ahold of the image. And I may ask for your assistance if I need more hands. If this was just an accident, that’s one thing. If it wasn’t...”

He let the thought trail off, but Sam knew where he was going.

If it wasn’t, there could be more trouble to come, and days from land, they were in a vulnerable position. Getting six thousand people safely into lifeboats would be a nightmare. Sam had stood through the muster station drill before the cruise set out, and he’d listened as a fresh-out-of-high-school crew member instructed them on ship-evacuation procedures. As if everyone would simply follow the muster rules in the case of an emergency. Sam had spent nearly a decade in law enforcement, and he’d seen people in desperation. Knew one human truth: in times of disaster, most people cling to just one rule—every man for himself.

* * *

Black water stretched before them under a moonless sky. Dark clouds had rolled in, bringing a cool breeze. Kat tugged the blanket around her shoulders. She was chilled, but happier outside than in. Couldn’t stand another minute breathing in the stench of smoke from her dress. At least out here, the breeze carried the odor away.

“Nothing as far as the eye can see. Just water and sky and stars. All of it a testimony to God’s creative genius.” Alice spoke the words softly. “I always wanted to go on a cruise with my Frank. I wish we’d had the chance.”

“Frank?”

“My husband. He had an artist’s soul and would have enjoyed every moment. It wasn’t meant to be, though. He passed away a little over a year ago. We had booked this trip already. It was to be our fiftieth-anniversary celebration.”

“I’m sorry.” Words were never enough, but they were all Kat had. “This trip must be hard for you.”

Alice watched the waves, silent for a moment. “I do wish he was here. But God’s been good to me. Frank and I spent forty-nine wonderful years together, raised four children, became grandparents. We even got to be great-grandparents. Many people don’t get that chance. I can’t complain. Plus, Frank wouldn’t have wanted me to come on this cruise and moon over the past.”

“I’m sure it gets lonely, though, sometimes.” Kat knew the feeling all too well.

“If I let it,” Alice said. “Happily, I’m not alone on this cruise.”

“Sam came with you.”

“Sam. Yes.” She sighed deeply. “My babysitter. He can be a stick-in-the-mud, such a rule-follower. Always has been. But my Red Hat Society ladies make up for it. Three of them came, actually, to make sure I had a good time. And let me tell you.” She leaned close, eyes sparkling. “We’ve been having a blast!”

“Does that mean you’ve been causing trouble?” Kat asked, amused with Alice’s sense of mischief.

“Causing it? Never! Trouble just seems to find me.”

“So you really are a trouble magnet, Alice?”

“That’s what my family says. All because of a few very minor incidents. But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about Sammy. He’s a lot like my Frank.”