The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin
THIRTY-NINE
The Garrett Citation CJ4 landed at the West Houston Airport at ten o’clock the next morning. Reese led Kenzie down the metal stairs over to one of the Land Rovers parked just off the tarmac. Both of them got in and buckled their seat belts.
They hadn’t talked much on the plane. Two other Garrett employees had joined them on the flight, scheduled for meetings in the Houston office. To all outward appearances, he was CEO of the company and Kenzie was his executive assistant. For their relationship to work, they had to separate their personal lives from their jobs.
It wasn’t easy for either of them. There were things he needed to say, questions he wanted to ask, things he hoped Kenzie would want to hear. Things he hoped she would say to him.
All of that would happen tonight. He had carefully planned the evening: an intimate supper in his Houston apartment catered by Chez Julienne, one of the finest restaurants in Houston, then snuggling together on the sofa, where they could talk before he carried her to bed.
His groin tightened just thinking about making love to her. He had it all worked out, just prayed things would go as he planned.
Once things were straightened out between them, he could concentrate on finding the evidence they needed to prove Kenzie innocent of murder.
Instead of stopping at his Houston apartment, Reese drove straight from the airport south on I-45 to Galveston and the Sea Titan Pelican Island terminal. The helicopter was waiting when they arrived, an EC155 this time, a chopper big enough to hold thirteen passengers plus a two-man crew.
This was a modified version, designed for Sea Titan’s top executives, a plush, roomier interior that carried only eight people. An attempt, Reese figured, to make up for the disastrous flight he had barely survived before.
He glanced at Kenzie as they crossed the tarmac toward the aircraft. She looked luscious in a pair of snug-fitting jeans and a pale blue short-sleeve sweater that hugged her pretty breasts, while Reese wore crisp blue jeans and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
A salty ocean breeze whipped the navy blue windbreaker with POSEIDON in bold white letters on the back he’d been given when they arrived.
As the blades began to spin up, Reese felt the first twinge of nerves. He’d been expecting it, had tried to prepare himself, but as he settled in the buttercream leather seat next to Kenzie, his pulse kicked up and his mouth went dry.
He was gripping the armrest, he realized, when he felt the brush of her hand as her fingers twined with his. She knew what was going through his head, knew part of him was replaying the crash that had killed two men and put him in the hospital. Kenzie always seemed to understand.
He squeezed her fingers. “I’m okay. Just a little nervous after what happened before.”
She cast him a knowing glance. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m a little nervous myself. I’ve never been crazy about helicopters.”
Reese smiled. “Maybe the company should buy one of its own. Then we can make sure everything is maintained the way it should be.”
Her golden eyes sparkled. “Your brothers would probably approve. Especially Brandon. He seems to be up for just about anything.”
Reese chuckled. “I think Bran might have had enough of helicopter flying in the army.”
She grinned. “You could be right.”
The chopper had already lifted away, Reese realized, and was winging a path over the heliport and out over the ocean. He held on to Kenzie’s hand and began to relax.
Less than an hour later, he spotted the platform, rising like a metal giant out of the sea. Four pillars pushed the Poseidon nearly two hundred feet above the surface of the water. As the chopper circled, Reese took in the twenty-story structure that produced a hundred-thousand barrels of oil a day, and housed the eighty-plus employees who lived and worked on the rig.
The chopper continued its descent, its wheels settling lightly on the helo pad angled out over the ocean, and the blades began to slow. The doors slid open. They ducked as they ran across the pad to join the three men waiting to greet them, including Dave Pierce, Poseidon’s installation manager.
“Welcome aboard,” Dave said, the stiff wind ruffling his thick red hair. The chopper engine made it hard to hear. Reese shook Pierce’s hand and introduced Kenzie, and Dave introduced the other two guys who would be showing them around.
“Let’s get inside where it’s not so noisy and I’ll show you what goes on around here.”
Kenzie and Reese followed Pierce and his men down a set of metal stairs into what appeared to be one of the data control centers.
Five men and one woman, dressed in the yellow coveralls worn by the Poseidon crew, sat in front of a bank of dials and gauges, watching production levels and God only knew what else.
They went from one room to another, one level to the next, Dave Pierce or one of the other men rattling off complicated explanations of the different work done by the massive drilling equipment.
They talked about blowout valves, cement-lined casings, and all the other important safety precautions in place. Reese asked poignant questions and seemed to comprehend most of what was being said, but the lengthy discussion of machinery and equipment was putting Kenzie to sleep. Which Reese seemed to sense.
When they reached the cafeteria, he pulled her aside. “We’ll be coming back here to eat when the tour is over. In the meantime I’d like to get your take on employee morale, what their workdays are like, their family life, that kind of thing. I think it would be more productive for you to talk to some of the crew while I finish the tour of the rig.”
Relieved, Kenzie smiled and nodded. “I can handle that.” Reese left with the men and Kenzie pushed through the doors leading into the cafeteria. She paused next to a heavyset man with thinning gray hair and asked how to get a cup of coffee.
“Just head in that direction, ma’am.” He pointed toward a line of thermal containers and stacks of paper cups against the wall. “They never run out. With twenty-four-hour shifts seven days a week, coffee is the lifeblood of this place.”
“I can understand that. Thanks.” Kenzie headed across the room and poured a cup of coffee from the container of French roast next to the decaf, then walked over to speak to one of the few women she had seen among the crew.
Introducing herself and explaining her interest, she sat down at the table with a safety engineer named Marty DeSalvo.
“I’ve been wondering what it’s like to work here.” Kenzie sipped her coffee, which was fresh and hot and strong.
“It’s not an easy lifestyle, that’s for sure.” Marty, a small woman with heavy black hair and a pretty face, explained that there were few women on the rig because it was difficult for them to be separated from their children for two weeks at a time.
“For me and my husband, it works. We don’t have any kids and he’s a salesman, so he sets his own schedule. My two weeks off gives us a chance to travel, something we both really enjoy.”
Kenzie spoke to a few of the men and got similar answers. Leaving home every two weeks wasn’t easy, but having two weeks off all at once had its advantages, and the pay was good.
A guy named Joe Wickersham warned her that rig life wasn’t for everyone. “There ain’t no windows in your room, you know? So you got a problem with enclosed spaces, this ain’t the job for you.”
She was beginning to understand that. The cafeteria was big, with plenty of lighting, lots of tables, and room to move around, but you couldn’t see outside. In a lot of ways, the rig was like a giant submarine. She would be glad when they were headed back home.
Her gaze went to the door as Reese walked in. The man with him was taller, more muscular, with a thick barrel chest. But it was Reese who dominated the space, clearly the man in control.
Her pulse kicked up the way it always did. As he strode toward her, she felt the same spike of awareness that hit her every morning when he walked into the office.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Great. It’s an interesting life. It’s not for me, that’s for sure, but the people who work here seem happy with their jobs.”
He nodded. “Good to hear.” He glanced around the room, taking note of available tables. “Let’s get something to eat.” They went through a line that offered a variety of food, everything from lettuce wraps to enchiladas to good old American standards like burgers and chili.
Good food was important on a rig.
“There’s a supply ship on the way,” Reese said as they sat down across from Dave Pierce and the big guy he had walked in with, Tony Sandini. “We’re scheduled to go for a ride, take a look at the rig from the water. You like the ocean, right? You don’t get seasick or anything?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Soon as we’ve finished our boat ride, we’ll take off back to Houston.” His gaze heated. “I’ve got plans for us tonight.”
Kenzie’s stomach contracted. He just had to look at her the way he was now and she wanted him. She swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”
The supply boat was a red-and-white affair sixty feet long. The platform produced its own power and water, but food supplies, all sorts of products that were needed on a daily basis, arrived by boats out of Galveston.
Kenzie stepped onto the deck and immediately lost her balance as a heavy wave lifted the vessel several feet into the air. Reese’s strong hand wrapped around her waist to steady her, and she smiled. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” His hot glance said his mind was already on the night ahead. Kenzie felt a rush of heat, but Reese’s attention had returned to the job at hand.
He followed Tony along the deck toward the bow of the boat, where a big metal crane was offloading supplies to a deck that circled the base of the rig. An elevator lifted the goods to the various decks, where they were unloaded.
Reese was busy asking questions, but as the boat pulled away from the lower deck to circle the four massive pillars supporting the rig, Kenzie was absorbed by the beautiful day, the clear blue sky, and foamy white waves breaking against the hull.
She watched a seagull circling above her and smiled at the warmth of the sun on her face. She noticed Reese moving farther away as Tony explained something about the crane.
It took a moment to realize something in the atmosphere had shifted. She turned at the sound of shouting and running feet. The engine stalled and a wave washed over the bow. Then the big boat shuddered and erupted in a fierce explosion, pieces and parts flying into the air with murderous force.
“Kenzie!” Reese raced toward her. He was still several yards away when a second explosion ripped through the air, lifting the center of the boat out of the sea and flipping the deck onto its side.
Kenzie screamed as she hit the cold water, the shock taking her breath away. Kicking her legs, she pushed toward the surface, broke through, and dragged in a deep breath of air. The sea was littered with huge chunks of wood and pieces of plastic, some of them on fire, but the boat itself seemed to be holding together in some kind of tenuous bond. But where was Reese?
Treading water, she turned in a circle, madly searching for him, determined not to panic, fighting to stay calm until she found him. He had been farther away, somewhere past the crane on the bow of the boat. Half the crane remained on the deck, but the rest had been blown apart. A huge piece of metal attached to a slab of wood floated in the ocean a few yards away.
“Reese!” More and more frantic, she swam toward the bow but saw no sign of him. She’d been the best swimmer on her high school swim team and she used that skill now, diving beneath the surface again and again. Still, no sign of him.
Her pulse was pounding, hard and fast, and fear threatened to overwhelm her. She dived again, swam toward the bow, and dived again.
Her heart jerked when she spotted him, ten feet below the surface, struggling to free himself from the heavy piece of metal holding him under the sea.
Kenzie went up, took a deep breath, and scissored through the water, swimming back down as fast as she could. She came up beside him, reached out, and touched him as he struggled to free himself. His eyes met hers and she read the resignation. He didn’t believe she could free him. He thought he was going to die.
Terror hit her so hard, her mind spun. Her eyes burned and it wasn’t from the salty water. No way was she letting him die!
Her throat tightened and her chest clamped down as she tugged on the rough strip of metal pinning his leg against the heavy submerged chunk of wood. It didn’t budge.
His eyes were closed now and she saw the breath he’d been holding drifting in small bubbles toward the surface. Kenzie yanked frantically on the metal strip, but there was no give. Reese had kicked off his sneakers in an effort to free himself, but his pant leg had snagged and was caught tight.
Her air was gone. She shot to the surface, dragged in a quick breath, and dived again. Forcing herself to concentrate, to find a solution to the problem, she spotted a smaller piece of metal sticking out of the wood and managed to pull it free. It was sharp on one edge, perfect to use as a blade. She began sawing back and forth, trying to cut through the denim pant leg trapping below the surface.
Her breath was almost gone when she realized the whole section of wood and metal was slowly sinking, pulling both of them down. In moments, it would be too far to the surface for either of them to reach.
Griff’s sweet face appeared in her mind. She couldn’t die. She had to think of Griff! A few more seconds were all they had. Chest burning, she reached for Reese, pulled as hard as she could, and the last of his pant leg tore free.
Determined now, kicking as hard as she could toward the murky sunlight, she was almost there when two bodies surged into the water beside her. One of them pushed Reese to the surface, the other grabbed her arm and pulled her up beside him. She broke through the surface and dragged in a lifesaving breath of air.
“Reese!” Coughing and sputtering, she felt herself lifted into a lifeboat and saw Reese lying on the bottom, one of the rescuers giving him artificial respiration.
She started to shiver. Her eyes burned. “Please, God, don’t let him die.” A blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she knelt beside him, reached out, and touched his cheek. “I love you, Reese,” she said. “Please come back to me.”
They worked over him for several more terrifying minutes before he coughed, coughed some more, dragged in a breath, and expelled what seemed like gallons of seawater.
“Reese...” His name came out on a whisper of air and the tears she’d been fighting slid down her cheeks.
“He’s gonna be all right,” Tony said with the widest smile she had ever seen. “He’s gonna be okay.”
Kenzie started crying.
After that, everything seemed to blur. A Coast Guard chopper arrived and airlifted Reese and two other injured men out of the lifeboat. Reese refused to go unless they took her with them.
Inside the chopper, he held on to her hand, his eyes on her face. “I remember some of it, not all. Did I imagine you swimming underwater toward me? Was it real or some kind of delusion?”
She could still recall her terrible fear. “I couldn’t find you. I kept swimming. Then I saw you—trapped by a piece of the crane.”
“So it was you. I knew it.” He gave her one of his sweet smiles. “My pant leg was caught and I couldn’t get free. I was almost out of air. I didn’t think you could get me free in time, but...” His beautiful blue eyes glistened. “You saved my life.”
Kenzie tried to smile, but her chest was hurting and everything inside her wanted to weep with relief. She wiped away a drop of wetness on her cheek. He’s alive, she reminded herself, and a real smile finally surfaced.
“I told you I was on the swim team. I didn’t tell you I was captain.”
A soft laugh escaped, then Reese started coughing.
Kenzie squeezed his hand. “You need to rest. Just relax and take it easy, okay?”
His eyes darkened. “This wasn’t an accident.”
She didn’t argue. Too many bad things had happened.
Reese’s features hardened. “Sawyer DeMarco is dead. So is Arthur Haines. I thought the trouble was over. What the hell is going on?”
As the chopper flew toward Houston, Kenzie shivered.
