Riptide

who'd been standing very still until this instant,
    looking solemn and mean, began to laugh. And laugh.
    The woman with the beautiful bright red curly hair looked up
    at her husband, cocked her head to one side, sending all that hair to
    bouncing around her head, and began laughing herself.
    "I'm glad you're not gay," Savich said. "What? You really think
    this other guy is jealous of Adam here?"
    Becca nodded. "Yes, and it's so stupid really. This is a life-and-death
    situation. Who would ever think of jealousy or sex at a time
    like this? That's just nuts."
    "That's right," Sherlock said. "No one would. Right, Dillon?"
    "That's exactly what I would have said," Savich said.
    Adam watched Savich slip the SIG back into its shoulder holster.
    Well, shit. All right, maybe the two of them could help. He'd wait
    and see what they did before he said anything more.
    Becca said, "Adam is drinking a diet Dr Pepper since I don't
    have any brandy to help him get over the shock of being wounded.
    Ice or lime in yours?"
    Savich grinned at her. "Give me a goodly amount of lime and
    then Sherlock and I will go out and buy some brandy." He then
    looked long at her. He wanted to tell her that her father was worried
    sick about her, that she looked a lot like him, that, when this
    was all over, he would come into her life for the very first time. But
    for now, Savich couldn't say anything at all. They'd promised
    Thomas Matlock that they'd keep him in the shadows until the
    mess was all cleared up. Thomas had said, "Until I can be certain
    that Krimakov is really dead, I just can't take the chance. And for
    me to believe that, really believe it all the way to my gut, I've got
    to see a photo of him lying on a slab in a Greek morgue."

Sherlock had said, "But if he's not dead, sir, and he is orchestrating
    all this, then he already knows about Becca and is trying to terrorize
    her with the ultimate goal of getting to you through her."
    Thomas had said, "I know only enough to scare myself spitless,
    Sherlock. I just want to keep a lid on all of this until I'm certain. In
    the meantime, I want to keep her hidden from all the cops and the
    FBI because I'm certain that they can't protect her from this stalker."
    Becca said over her shoulder as she led them into the kitchen,
    "Before anyone comes over, you've got to tell me who you are and
    why you're here. As I told you, Adam's cover is that he's my gay
    cousin."
    Adam said as he cocked the soda can at Savich, "You want to be
    her other gay cousin?"
    "Then what would that make me?" Sherlock said. "I can't keep
    my hands off him. That would blow the cover right off."
    "Maybe we'll be your friends, Adam. I know quite a bit about
    you and your background. You and I went to school together, how
    about that?" Savich said.
    "Then what the hell are you doing in Riptide, Maine?"
    Sherlock took a glass of soda from Becca, sipped it, and said,
    "We're here because of that skeleton that fell out of your basement
    wall, Becca. You guys wanted some help, and since we live in
    Portsmouth, it wasn't tough for us to get up here."
    "How do you know where I went to school?" Adam said, his
    eyes dark and hard on Savich's face.
    MAX gave me most of your particulars. It took him a while
    longer to find out about all your other activities. You went to Yale.
    No problem. Did we crew?"
    Well, damn, Adam thought, it was a good idea. "Yeah," he said.
    We did crew. We also beat Harvard, that bunch of pissy little
    wimps."

Sherlock wondered why Adam Carruthers didn't want her or
    Dillon there. Didn't he realize that they could help? The stalker was
    here in Riptide, he'd tried to kill them.
    Sherlock gave Adam a sunny smile. "Why don't we go look in
    the woods and try to uncover a trail for this guy?"
    "Yeah," Savich said, rising. "Then we need to figure out why he
    would want to kill Becca like this. It doesn't make sense. He's into
    terrorizing her. Why just shoot her and end it all? He'd have no
    more fun."
    "Good question," Becca said. "We haven't had time to think
    about anything since it happened. Me, I don't think he wanted to
    kill either of us, just scare us real bad, just announce that he was
    here and ready to play again."
    Becca sucked in her breath. "Oh dear, we need to get the front
    door repaired before our neighbor, Tyler McBride, or the sheriff
    come to visit. I don't want to try to explain bullet holes in the
    door."
    "Let's check for a trail first," Sherlock said. "Then, Becca, you
    can tell us