27. Knox

"Stacey has a lead."

Caro walked in from the next pool room with Tango at her heels, and despite the heat, she'd taken inspiration from the poachers and put on a hoodie. Paranoia was setting in. Few people could be trusted. Only Caro and Baptiste, plus they were giving Stacey Custer the benefit of the doubt as well. The police were likely corrupt. A stalker was waiting in the wings. The poachers were still somewhat of an unknown quantity, but undoubtedly dangerous if cornered.

"What kind of lead?"

Even the hood couldn't hide Caro's smile. Damn, she was beautiful. Knox had already asked Samia, who handled scheduling, to block him out for as many long weekends as possible. He'd work Saturdays and Sundays for the rest of the month, no problem, but now that he'd gotten used to having the same woman in his bed for more than two nights in a row, he wasn't ready to give it up. It was so…easy. He knew Caro's body, and she knew his. Those breathy little gasps when he hit the right spot, the way she closed her eyes and tipped her head back when she was about to come… It was still just sex, he told himself, but great sex. Plus he didn't have to think of a hundred ways to let her down gently in the morning. Or scrub his truck clean when a woman scorned wrote "asshole" across the windshield in lipstick.

"Camera footage from Bar Tropicana," Caro said. "Apparently, the bartender hates the boss, and she's on the verge of quitting. For fifty bucks, she showed Stacey through to the back office where the security system was and let her do whatever she wanted. Although ‘security system' is a grand term. There was only one camera."

Knox put down the bucket he'd been using to empty water from one of the pools. He'd moved the residents—half a dozen juvenile hawksbills—into a clean pool while he gussied up their home. Fresh water, extra rocks, a bunch of the sea sponges that hawksbills liked to eat. The sponges were grown by an aquaculture company on Spice Island, and they delivered once a week. Knox had grown fond of the turtles as well as Caro in his time at the sanctuary.

Which meant the poachers needed to be stopped.

With Caro's words came hope, and man, did they need some good news.

"She worked out who posted the shark sighting? Do we have a picture of their face?"

"Two men came in together. The camera was near the ceiling, and Stacey said they never pushed their hoods back, not once. But there was only one man using a phone at the time when the shark post was made, and we do have a good picture of his hands. The camera was at the right angle when he went to buy a drink." Caro held up her phone. "Look. Light brown skin and a distinctive tattoo."

Knox studied the still Stacey had pulled from the video footage. Even with the graininess of a cheap camera, the tattoo was recognisable. It looked like rope coiled around the man's left wrist, ending in an anchor on the back of his hand. Did it mean something significant? They already knew he had a link to the sea, but a nautical tattoo suggested the connection ran deep.

"How many tattoo shops are there in San Gallicano?"

"I have no idea, but Stacey said she was going to find out."

"Tell her we'll find out. I'll ask someone from Blackwood's research team to look into it."

"How long will that take?"

"A day or two. And when Slater arrives, one of us can go ask about the guy with the tattoo."

"What if they kill more turtles in the meantime?"

"If they've realised we're onto them, and it seems like they have, then they'll probably need time to regroup and come up with a new strategy."

"I hate waiting."

"I know, baby. But we need to do this the right way. Luna has an active threat against her, so she takes priority right now." Plus she was the client. And, it appeared, Ryder's girl. "Our drone will be here tomorrow, and the tech team is sending a jammer too. We'll find this guy, and then we can focus on the poachers."

And when they did find him, Knox hoped he'd be the one to take the motherfucker down. This was personal for Ryder, and he was pissed enough that he'd end up in jail if he did the honours. Good roommates were hard to find.

* * *

"What's that thing?"

The man was barely taller than Luna and roughly as old as time. Wiry grey hair hung to his shoulders in a wild tangle, a cross between locs and dragged-through-a-hedge-backward, and his leathery skin had lost its battle with the elements long ago. When the motion detectors began pinging, Knox had found him shuffling along the driveway with a blue-and-yellow parrot sitting on his shoulder. The thing squawked and flapped as Knox came near.

"Sir, can I ask who you are?" He kept a safe distance from the bird. There were no weapons in sight, and the visitor didn't look as if he'd be quick on the draw in any case.

"I'm Lyron." The man pointed at the drone in Ryder's hands. "Why are you flying that thing over my property? Are you trying to kill Veronica?"

"Who's Veronica?"

"This is Veronica," he snapped, pointing at the parrot. "She flew off to take her morning exercise and nearly got mown down by that spaceship."

"By the drone?"

Ryder cut in. "The parrot was at least fifty yards away."

"The parrot. The parrot. She has a name, you know. She's right here."

"I apologise. Veronica was at least fifty yards away."

"You scared her. She flew right back home, and she wouldn't leave her perch for half an hour."

Caro ran up, puffing slightly because she was wearing flip-flops and who the hell could run properly in those things?

"Lyron? Is everything okay?" Caro spoke to him patiently, but there was an edge to her voice. She clearly knew the man, and Knox suspected this wasn't the first time he'd shown up complaining.

"These cretins tried to murder Veronica."

"I'm sure they didn't do anything on purpose. What happened?"

"They flew their UFO right at her. Like an arrow, except with whirling blades."

Caro petted the parrot, and it bobbed its head, no squawking whatsoever. The bird had good taste.

"Lyron, we've had some problems with intruders lately, and the drone is just to check for trespassers. We won't fly over your property again, I promise."

"We weren't flying over his property before," Ryder said. "Apart from a few minutes over the sea, the drone stayed within the sanctuary's perimeter."

"Young man, didn't anyone teach you that it's rude to talk back to your elders?"

Knox glanced to the heavens and took a calming breath. "Sir, nobody's trying to be rude. We're running security checks on private property."

"Where's Franklin? Franklin won't stand for this nonsense."

Again, Caro spoke, still polite, although Knox noticed her hands ball into fists before she caught herself and relaxed.

"Franklin went to pick up turtle eggs on Spice Island. I'll let him know you dropped by, but he's going to say the same as us—this is private land, and we can fly the drone here."

"We'll see about that. The sky is for God's creatures, not that abomination."

Lyron shuffled off, muttering about aliens under his breath, and Caro rolled her eyes.

"Give me strength. You definitely weren't over his property?"

"Is his place the one with the fence made from string and the piles of broken furniture outside?"

She nodded. "Lyron never throws anything away. People give him old chairs and whatever to use as firewood for his stove, but he keeps saying he'll fix everything up someday and hardly burns any of it. Then he undercooks his food and ends up in the hospital, and I end up taking care of Veronica while they pump him full of antibiotics. She whistles all freaking night."

"Is he going to cause problems?"

"He's more bark than bite, and he usually keeps to himself in his cabin. Franklin checks on him a couple of times a week. Can we possibly avoid flying the drone anywhere near him? Ever since his wife died, he's been unnaturally attached to Veronica."

"This is just fucking great," Ryder muttered.

His sarcasm was well-placed. If it weren't for Caro, this trip would be the perfect nightmare. Jubilee had gotten in touch with Luna's lawyer yesterday and asked him to explain the stalker situation to the judge with the hope of commuting her sentence, but it didn't sound hopeful. Judge Morgan said he'd already taken the stalker situation into account, and that was why she'd been allowed to bring security. Unless something changed drastically, Luna was stuck on Valentine Cay. So were Knox and Ryder. Knox at least had Caro to soften the blow, but Ryder had been bitching for twenty-four hours straight.

"We're halfway. Fifteen days, and we can head home. Also fifteen days until Amethyst gets released from jail, so good luck, buddy."

"Luna's dreading it. Her mom fucks with her head."

"Can't she fire her?"

"She should. I haven't broached the subject, but Luna doesn't have much of a support network. Only Jubilee, and Jubilee always caves to Amethyst."

"It's not easy starting over," Caro said softly. "I wouldn't have done it if I'd had any other choice. Honestly, it's taken years for me to pick up the pieces, and now it feels as if it's all falling apart again."

Knox tucked an arm around her waist. "But you and Luna are running from different things. You cut ties completely; she just needs to stand up to her mother. And is your new life better than your old one?"

A long pause. "It is now." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But I'm still really freaking scared."

Fuck. Caro had changed in the past two weeks. They'd all changed, and Knox hated that he couldn't snap his fingers and fix everything that was wrong in her world. Ryder had two weeks to convince Luna to stand her ground with the army of leeches who wanted to suck her dry, and Knox had two weeks to find out precisely who Aiden was. He intended to make the most of them.

"Maybe you could drop a few hints to Luna?" Ryder suggested. "Help her to understand that change isn't necessarily a bad option. That sometimes doing nothing can be worse."

"Are you serious?"

"She respects you."

"She does?"

"Yeah, but you also make her nervous."

Caro sighed, but Knox was learning to read her better. When she didn't roll her eyes, he took it as a good sign.

"Okay, fine. I'll try."