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Once again, the weighted sensation of eyes watching her swept across Sienna. Her heart rate picked up speed. The warehouses lurked on the shore like ghostly sentries. A person could be hiding nearby and she wouldn’t know. It sent her nerves jittering. She didn’t like this. A part of her was tempted to abandon this risky meeting, but Sienna shook off the urge. Ruby’s grandmother was worried sick about her only grandchild. She deserved answers.
Sienna intended to get them.
There was no movement above deck. Albert was likely inside the cabin. Annoyed and cold, Sienna stepped onto the fiberglass hull. The deck was cluttered with paraphernalia. A pile of fishing nets clawed at her foot and she tripped trying to wrench it free. Her body slammed into the deck with a teeth-clattering jolt. Slime and salt water seeped into her clothes. Repulsed, she scrambled onto her hands and knees. “Albert!”
No movement from inside the cabin. Irritation flared white-hot. She was exhausted after a long day of work, creeped out by the clandestine meeting in the marina, and now was covered in leftover fish goo and salt water.
Sienna gritted her teeth and pulled her foot free of the net before standing. Her hands clenched. She shouldn’t let her emotions get the best of her, but Albert was in for several choice words if he’d dragged her out here for nothing.
Sucking in a breath, Sienna carefully crossed the slick distance between the edge of the boat and the cabin. The helm was nothing more than a few instruments and a steering wheel. A door led to a small interior area below deck.
She pushed it open, revealing a set of narrow stairs. Music spilled from the cabin. Body sweat and the faint hint of blood wafted across her nose. Sienna grimaced. It smelled like Albert was cleaning fish in the same place he was sleeping. Yuck.
A counter ran along the edge of the cabin. It was covered with various items. A hotplate rested next to a jagged knife. Hooks and fishing line mingled with discarded cans of soup. As Sienna descended the staircase, Albert came into view. He reclined in a fancy camping chair with a footrest attached. His eyes were closed, hands propped up on his lap.
For some ridiculous reason, the sight of him sleeping fueled her frustration and irritation. Sienna flicked off the nearby radio. “Wake up, Albert.”
He didn’t stir.
Sienna lifted her fingers to her mouth in preparation to whistle sharply, when something about his positioning stalled her movements. Dread slicked through her like a heat wave. She slowly lowered her hand to his shoulder. His skin was warm to the touch, even through the fabric of his shirt. Sienna shook him.
Albert pitched from the chair, nearly falling into her as he toppled to the floor.
Sienna recoiled. The back of Albert’s head was covered in blood. A dark stain coated his collar and the backside of his T-shirt.
Bile rose in the back of her throat as her backside slammed into the counter. The soup cans rattled. A bobbin toppled to the floor. It rolled slowly to the side of Albert’s arm. Her gaze followed its path. She’d seen crime scene photographs, but had never been in the presence of a dead body before. Horror swallowed her up and stole her breath. Her knees weakened. She couldn’t tear her attention away from the back of Albert’s head. It looked like he’d been shot.
A thump came from overhead.
The noise sliced right through Sienna’s shock. It sent her heart rate skittering as terror took hold. Albert’s killer. Had he come back?
Another scuffle overhead. Someone was definitely on the deck. Panic shot straight through Sienna as instinct took over. She searched the small space for something to use as a weapon. Her gaze snagged on a dark object on the floor.
A gun. A Glock 19.
She moved closer, her pulse roaring in her ears as she recognized the familiar engraving on the grip. The initials S.E. enclosed inside a round circle topped with a cross.
Her initials.
Her gun.
Her stolen gun.
Dizziness threatened to swallow her whole as black edges appeared at the corners of her vision.
More movement on the deck drew her gaze upward. Survival instinct overtook logic as Sienna scooped up the Glock from the floor of the cabin. She quickly ejected the magazine. One bullet was missing.
She didn’t want to think about where that bullet was. Not now. Instead, she snapped the magazine in place, her movements smooth despite the fear coursing through her veins.
Whoever murdered Albert wouldn’t hesitate to harm Sienna. The only escape route was through the wooden cabin door, but she’d never make it outside without being noticed. She prayed whoever was on the boat wouldn’t come below deck.
The steps grew louder, thumping against the hull like a herd of elephants. Growing closer.
She kept the gun pointed at the cabin door. Said another prayer. Held her breath.
And waited.
TWO
