The Reef

squid and other night feeders, spots of color, blurs of movement in the shadowy sea. She never flagged.
    He could have fallen in love with her for that alone, for the dogged way she swam, her hair and clothes floating around her, her eyes dark and determined behind her mask.
    From time to time he checked his compass, corrected their course. It took more than thirty minutes of steady strokes to reach the boat.
    Tate surfaced, fountaining water.
    “Matthew, I thought you were dead. I saw the Mermaid explode and I knew you were on it.”
    “Doesn’t look like it,” he said lightly, but supported them both gratefully as she held onto him. “Let’s get you on deck, Red, you’re shaking pretty bad, and your mom and dad are crazy with worry.”
    “I thought you were dead,” she said again and sobbed as she crushed her mouth to his.
    “I know, baby. I’m sorry. Buck, give me a hand with her.”
    But Ray was already reaching over the side. His eyes, wet with relief, roamed over his daughter as he hauled up the tanks. “Tate, are you hurt. Are you all right?”
    “I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said again as Marla reached down to take her hand. “Don’t cry.”
    But she was crying herself when her mother embraced her. “We were so worried. That horrible man. That bastard. Oh, let me look at you.” Marla framed Tate’s face, nearly smiled before she saw the bruising. “He hurt you. I’m going to get you some ice, some hot tea. You sit down, honey, and let us take care of you.”
    “I’m all right now.” But it felt wonderfully good to sink onto the bench. “The Mermaid —”
    “It’s gone,” Ray said gently. “Don’t worry about that now. I want to take a good look at you, see if there’s any shock.”
    “I’m not in shock.” She sent Buck a grateful smile when he wrapped a blanket over her shoulders. “I need to tell you. LaRue—”
    “At your service, mademoiselle.” With a jaunty smile, he came out of the galley with a bottle of brandy.
    “Sonofabitch.” Fatigue, fear and the fogginess of shock snapped clear. With a snarl she was on her feet and leaping. Matthew barely caught her before she could sink nails and teeth into LaRue’s face.
    “Did I tell you?” LaRue shivered and drank the brandy himself, straight from the bottle. “She’d have clawed my eyes out if she’d had the chance.” He tapped his free hand on the medicated scratches scoring his cheek. “Another inch north and I would be wearing a patch, eh?”
    “He’s working for VanDyke,” Tate spat out. “He’s been VanDyke’s worm all along.”
    “Now she insults me. You give her the brandy,” he said, shoving it into Ray’s hand. “LaRue, she’d hit over the head with it.”
    “I’d tie you to the stern and use you for chum.”
    “We’ll talk about that later,” Matthew suggested. “Sit down, take a drink. LaRue isn’t working for VanDyke.”
    “He only pays me,” LaRue said cheerfully.
    “He’s a traitor, a spy. He blew up your boat, Matthew.”
    “I blew up my boat,” Matthew corrected. “Drink.” He all but poured a shot of brandy down her throat.
    She sputtered, and the heat hit her stomach like a fist. “What are you talking about?”
    “If you’d sit and calm down, I’ll tell you.”
    “You should have told her, and all of us, months ago,” Marla said testily as she bustled out with a steaming mug. “Here’s some soup, honey. Did you eat?”
    “Did I—” In spite of everything, Tate began to laugh. It was only when she couldn’t seem to stop that she realized it was borderline hysteria. “I didn’t care much for the menu.”
    “Why the hell’d you waltz off with him?” Matthew exploded. “A half a dozen people saw you get into his tender without a murmur.”
    “Because he said he’d have one of his men kill you if I didn’t,” she shot back. “He had another right outside the boutique where Mom was.”
    “Oh, Tate.” Shaken all over again, Marla sank to her knees beside her daughter.
    “I didn’t have any choice,” she said, and between sips of hot chicken soup, did her best to fill them all in on the events that had taken place since VanDyke had found her.
    “He wanted me outside,” she finished. “He even provided binoculars so I could watch the boat blow up. There was nothing I could do. I thought you were dead,” she murmured, looking up at Matthew. “And there was nothing I could do.”
    “There was no way to tell you what was going on here.”