And that was what was twisting Clint’s gut into a knot. Bree cared deeply about people and she always sacrificed herself for them. Seemed like she planned to do whatever she could to find her friend’s killer, even if it meant sacrificing her life.

  THREE

  The next morning in the kitchen, Clint watched Bree feed Ella. Bree wore a plain sundress with a blue jean jacket and cowboy boots. As if he didn’t like her enough already, he had a soft spot for women who wore boots as his mother had often done.

  Ella had big globs of a goopy-looking cereal down the front of her bib and on a little one-piece number with pink kites and blue balloons. She raised a fist and shoved it in her mouth, then pulled it out with mushy drool covering her fingers.

  “She eats like most of the guys on my SEAL team.” Clint laughed.

  He waited for Bree to laugh with him, but she frowned.

  “What’d I say?” he asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just, when Laura fed Ella, she didn’t make a mess like this.”

  “The kid and her clothes are washable, right? So it’s no big deal.”

  “Exactly,” Marie stepped into the room and peered up at him. “I keep telling Bree to stop comparing herself to Laura as there’s no point in it.”

  Bree tapped her forehead. “I get that up here, but my heart’s not quite on board yet.”

  “You want what’s best for Ella, and that will win out no matter if she gets messy or not.” Marie bent over Ella. “Right, sweetie? You’re a big old mess, and we don’t care.”

  Ella gave Marie a huge toothless grin and drool mixed with food oozed out and slid down to her bib.

  “Go ahead and make things worse.” Bree stood and handed the food bowl to Marie. “You’re the one who will be cleaning her up afterward.”

  “Seems like that smile was worth it, though,” Clint said.

  “Et tu, Brute?” Bree asked then laughed. “Let me wash this cereal off my hands and grab my purse, then I’m ready to go.”

  He watched her leave, her skirt swishing with each step.

  Marie sat in the chair vacated by Bree. “Bree still seems fond of you. If the way you’re looking at her says anything, you feel the same way.”

  He wasn’t aware his feelings were so transparent. He’d best get a better handle on them.

  “A piece of advice?” she asked.

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Life is short. Jason’s and Laura’s deaths only proves that. If you and my daughter care for each other, then maybe you should work through whatever came between you.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Isn’t what?” Bree asked as she returned carrying a large purse.

  “Nothing.” Clint gestured toward the door.

  She eyed him for a moment then changed her focus to her mother. “I’ll have my cell so make sure to call with any problems.”

  “I do know how to take care of a baby. You were once one, you know.”

  Clint laughed, and Bree scowled at him.

  Okay, fine. Taking her mom’s side two times in less than ten minutes probably wasn’t a good idea before heading out to spend the whole day with her. Or maybe it was. That scowl would help him ignore how glad he was to see her again.

  Not that it seemed to matter what he did, as she remained silent for the thirty-minute trip to the marina. Only when they approached the turnoff did she seem to remember he was in the truck with her.

  She pointed at a sign announcing their arrival at the county park. “Just follow the signs, and you can’t miss it.”

  Clint turned onto the marina road. “Has Jason always owned a boat?”

  “He inherited it from his dad about five years ago.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve been thinking that if you had asked me before they died about how well I knew Jason, I would have said we were very close friends. But now I’m realizing how much I didn’t know about him.”

  “Is the same thing true of Laura?”

  Bree shook her head, and the braid running down her back swung in response. “I’ll be surprised if there’s anything I learn about her that I don’t already know.”

  “Her death must be hard on you.”

  “I keep reaching for my phone to text or call her and then remember I can’t.” She swiveled to face him. “But you’d know all about that after losing your mom and dad.”

  He nodded, but didn’t elaborate as he didn’t want to add to the already somber mood. He pointed at the sign ahead. “We’re here.”

  She changed her focus out the window, and he pulled into the parking lot. Even on a Monday morning, fishing boats, wave runners and cabin cruisers all mixed together in bright colors bobbing on the cool blue water.

  “It’s funny.” He shifted into Park and stared over the lake. “I was never much for the water until I joined the navy.”

  “Then why did you enlist?”

  “At the time, I wanted to be anywhere but on the miles and miles of land in Texas, and I thought adventures on the high seas sounded exciting.”

  “From what you were cleared to tell me about your job, you’ve lived a very adventurous life.”

  He grinned at her. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “So just to be clear, are you staying with the SEALs because it’s a calling or because you think you’d die of boredom here in Texas?”

  “It’s a calling,” he replied quickly, but didn’t explain that if it was just for the thrills, he’d have gladly given up the excitement for her. “We should get going. Wait here until I check things out, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  He climbed out and made a quick sweep of the parking lot. He patted the holster under his jacket and was glad he had a concealed carry permit allowing him to carry a handgun. He opened her door and stood back. She slid long slender legs from the truck.

  He dragged his focus back to the surroundings. “Stay close to me.”

  “Sure.”

  They crossed the lot to a wooden walkway leading out to a low-slung metal building holding the marina office and a small restaurant.

  “Do we have to check in with the office before seeing the boat?” he asked.

  “No. I have the keys. Follow me and I’ll show you where it is.”

  She continued down the walkway to the covered boat storage area. It made perfect sense to Clint that the meticulous Jason wouldn’t leave his boat exposed to the elements in an uncovered slip. She turned off on one of the docks and stopped beside a white boat with a blue-and-red stripe running around the hull. Clint didn’t know much about cabin cruisers, but he recognized the high-end brand.

  “Expensive boat,” he said.

  “Laura told me Jason’s father had expensive tastes.” She stood staring down at the platform on the boat’s stern where they would board.

  “I should have thought to wear athletic shoes.” She shrugged. “I’ll just have to take these off.”

  “Boots can be tricky to pull off while standing. Let me help.”

  Before she could object, he knelt at her feet and took one foot in his hands.

  To keep from falling, she had no choice but to rest a hand on his shoulder. He should have thought this through, as her touch felt like a hot branding iron.

  He removed both boots and forced out a smile. “Now my turn.”

  She started to bend down.

  “Don’t worry, I can handle my own boots.” He sat to remove them.

  She didn’t argue but stepped onto the boat.

  Clint joined her. “What is this? A thirty footer?”

  She shrugged. “I think that’s what Jason said, but I didn’t really pay much attention to the little details he shared and I personally know nothing about boats.”

  “I’ve had a little bit of experience with them.” He winked to try to keep things light between them.

  “Of course you have.” She turned away, and he wondered if he’d said something wrong. “What do you want to see first?”

  “The cabin.”

  She opened the gate to the outdoor seating area, and then unlocked the cabin door. Clint was thankful he could stand upright in the cabin and still have a few inches to spare. Bree stopped moving to stare at the bow of the boat where a dining table and benches were folded down into a bed, likely the spot where the couple had died.

  She took a breath and blew it out, but her shoulders started shaking. He soon heard her sniffle.

  He should stay far away from her, but he couldn’t let her cry without offering comfort. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s got to be hard to come down here.”

  She pivoted to look up at him. Anguish lingered in tear-filled eyes, and she looked as helpless as little Ella had appeared the night before.

  “Aw, honey, don’t.” He didn’t think but drew her into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

  She rested her head against his chest, and her crying intensified. Her touch on his shoulder earlier had sent him reeling, but holding her again made his head spin. But this wasn’t about him. It was about her and comforting her in her grief.

  “Shh,” he whispered and stroked her back until her sobs lessened, and she simply lay with her head against his chest.

  She suddenly pushed back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  He resisted reaching out to swipe lingering tears from her high cheeks. “It takes time to heal from such a loss.”

  “I suppose.” She cleared the remaining tears with her own fingers. “But you’re not here to help me through that so we should get started on what we came to do.”

  She spun. Good. He didn’t want her to see that he was very ready to help her through her grief. Not the right thing to do when he couldn’t be there for her any more today than three years ago. He wished things were different, but wishing never changed anything. If it did, with all his childhood wishing, his parents would still be alive.

  He stepped through the plush cabin with a small kitchen, bathroom and another small berth, running his gaze over every inch as he moved. Coming up with nothing to help, he faced Bree. “I’m assuming the generator’s in the engine hatch on the deck. Do you know how to open the hatch?”

  “I saw Detective Newlin do it. There’s a switch on a console outside. I’ll show you.”

  On deck, she went straight to the helm station holding switches and gauges. She put the key in the ignition and pressed the hatch switch. He waited for the floor to rise up, but it didn’t move.

  She looked up. “It’s not budging, and I know it works.”

  He stepped over to the station and checked the gauges. “The battery’s almost dead.”

  Looking frustrated, she dropped into the helm seat. “So now what?”

  “We have two options that I can think of. We could use a car battery to power the hatch—which I don’t feel good about doing because I don’t know the electrical system on this boat. Option two is that most boats have a way to open the hatch manually. There should be access to the release pin under the table base or in the seating storage.”

  “Let’s try that.”

  “Full disclosure, I could damage something and you might want to get a mechanic out here instead of me messing with it.”

  “We can’t wait for that.”

  “I’ll need tools.”

  She retrieved Jason’s toolkit. “Can I help at all?”

  “In a minute, I’ll need your assistance in lifting the hatch.” He set to work releasing the pin. The hatch popped up a fraction of an inch.

  “Okay, now’s when I need your help.” He got into position to lift the door, and she stepped to the other end. “It’s going to be heavy so get a good grip and be prepared for the weight.”

  She nodded and slipped her fingers under the end.

  “Ready?” He braced his knees to take the brunt of the weight. “Lift.”

  When they raised the door about a foot, movement caught his eye.

  “What the...” He suddenly recognized the thing that was moving. “Drop the door and jump back!”

  “What?”

  “Now, Bree! Drop it.”

  She gave him a puzzled look but let go and stepped back as he released his hold.

  The door slammed to the deck. Clint quickly moved to seal the gasket, closing off the hatch completely.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “A Texas coral snake was slithering toward your hand.”

  “A snake?”

  “Not just any snake. It’s the most poisonous snake in the US. It carries neurotoxins and could easily kill you.”

  Her eyes went wide, and she shot a look around. “A snake...poisonous...but how? Who?”

  This wasn’t a snake typically found around water, but Clint had a pretty good idea of how it had gotten into the sealed waterproof hatch.

  The killer.

  * * *

  Bree watched the animal control worker carry the container off the boat. He’d removed a total of three snakes, and she could hardly breathe for how close she’d come to being bitten.

  She sighed, catching Clint’s attention. His warm gaze was like a caress, reminding her of being held by him a few hours ago. Having his arms around her again had felt like she’d found something important that she’d been missing, and part of her wished he’d repeat his performance right now.

  But why? What good would it do? She still wanted him by her side, not off in some foreign country. Sure, when they’d dated they’d been able to regularly communicate via video and telephone, but she couldn’t hug a phone or computer—not if she wanted to receive any warmth or affection in return.

  Clint looked at his watch. “It’s almost lunchtime. Why don’t you show me the gouge, and then we’ll regroup over lunch at the marina restaurant.”

  She stepped to the far side of the boat where she pointed at the long blue gash in the otherwise pristine white paint.

  Clint leaned over the edge next to her. “Looks like there’s enough paint left behind to take a sample and get it analyzed.”

  “To what end?”

  “My deputy friend Shawn once told me that samples from cars can be matched to paint colors used by automobile manufacturers. That then gives the police a model to look for. Maybe they can do the same thing with boats.”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  Clint sat up. “When you were questioning people, did you ask if anyone could identify the type of boat that would leave such a mark?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Since boats are various sizes and designs they ride differently in the water. It would take a certain size boat to cause damage this high up.”

  “I had no idea, but we could stop at the office and talk to Dennis Green. He’s the marina manager and seems to know a lot about boats.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  On the dock, they slipped into their boots and, as they started down walkway, she spotted Dennis’s snowy white hair as he worked on one of the moorings.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Green,” she called out and rushed down the dock toward him.

  Clint hurried up next to her, and she appreciated his protective instincts.

  Dennis wiped his hands on his shorts and peered up at her. “Ms. Hatfield. Seems like there was quite a commotion on your boat this morning.”

  “Yes.” She avoided giving him details by quickly introducing Clint, but didn’t offer his profession. She’d seen firsthand how knowing Clint was a SEAL intimidated people, and she wanted Dennis to speak freely. “I was wondering if any of your boaters have snakes as pets.”

  “Snakes? My word.” He sat back on his haunches and straightened the collar on his knit shirt. “Is that why animal control was at your boat?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t know of anyone into snakes, and I’ve never seen anyone bring them onboard.”

  “If you do hear something, would you let me know?”

  “Of course.” He turned back to the post he’d been working on.

  “One more thing,” she said, garnering his attention again. “If you looked at the gouge I told you about on Jason’s boat, might you be able to give us an idea of what type of boat could have done the damage?”

  He pushed up his rimless glasses. “Sure. I could at least make an educated guess on the size of the boat, but you should know there are a ton of models so narrowing it down might be difficult.”

  “Still, any help you could give would be appreciated.” She led him straight to the gouge, not even stopping to take off her boots. Clint stayed on the dock, his gaze roving over the area.

  Dennis gave her feet a disdainful look, but joined her at the gouge. He studied it for a few moments then pulled back. “Let me look at it from the slip next door.”

  He disembarked and they followed him to the dock running parallel with the other side of Jason’s boat.

  “Okay, I can tell you the damage came from a much larger boat. I’d say you’re looking at a forty footer, or even bigger.” He rattled off a few boat models, and Bree jotted them down on a notepad from her purse.

  “Could you suggest any specific models moored here?” Clint asked.

  “Sure, but I don’t want to at all intimate that one of the boats at the marina caused the damage. We have a public boat ramp, too, so anyone could have been on the water when this happened.”

  “Could you give us a list of the boats moored here?”

  He shook his head hard. “Privacy rules and all.”

  “But you wouldn’t mind if we looked around at the boats, right?” Clint drew back his shoulders, and Bree knew it would take a strong man to say no to Clint at any time, but when he looked like a fierce warrior as he was doing now it would be nigh on impossible.

  Dennis chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment then met Bree’s gaze head on. “Stick to the docks and no trespassing on the boats. I’ve had some complaints from our customers about you asking so many questions so I’d prefer if you didn’t bother anyone else.”