lining his words. She sighed, recognizing that tone. He’d used it before, a few months earlier, when he thought she and Brianna were in danger from the man who was after her sister-in-law, Shelby. Rafe had gone into protector mode back then and she’d learned that when Rafe made up his mind to do something, there was no dissuading him. Arguing was futile.
“If you insist,” she agreed, forcing a smile. She wished she was immune to his charm, but she wasn’t. Her normal cool logic seemed to fly out the window around Rafe. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to endure his presence for long. The drive to Pelican Point’s parking lot wasn’t far.
But the way Brianna gazed adoringly up at Rafe caused the muscles in her stomach to clench in warning. Fatherless Brianna was more susceptible to male attention than Kayla liked to admit. Especially now.
She couldn’t help thinking that with Rafe’s lethal charm, even five minutes could be too long.
Rafe escorted Kayla and Brianna down to his jeep, which he’d left parked on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing back at the group huddled around the dead victim, his mind buzzing with questions.
He believed with instinctive certainty the police knew the identity of the victim. And he couldn’t help thinking he knew who the dead person might be, too.
The prime suspect in his current investigation was Bill Schroeder, the owner of a charter fishing operation out of Pelican Point. Schroeder had been missing for the past week. Long enough for Rafe to fear their suspect was dead.
He’d kept his investigation a secret from Alex because of Kayla. Her husband had once been Schroeder’s partner, but since Jeremy Wilson had died two years ago, they’d pretty much ruled him out as being involved in the most recent criminal activity.
His team at the coast guard had been watching Bill Schroeder for the past few months, searching for proof that the owner of the charter fishing business was involved in an underground criminal escape ring, secretly whisking well-known criminals out of the United States through the Great Lakes into Canada—complete with new identities.
If Bill Schroeder was really the dead guy floating in Lake Michigan, then their investigation would take a serious hit. They had a few other potential suspects, but none as promising as Schroeder.
He glanced at Kayla and Brianna once they reached his jeep. He opened the passenger door for them. “Kayla, I need to go back and talk to the police for a minute. Will you wait for me? Please?”
Kayla flashed a puzzled frown but nodded. “I wouldn’t mind a ride, since darkness comes so early now. But if you could hurry, I’d appreciate it. I’m sure Brianna is hungry.”
Relief washed over him. He was afraid she’d insist on walking back to her car. He turned on the jeep’s ignition and cranked up the heat. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Five minutes.”
He took off at a jog, retracing his steps until he’d reached the group down at the lakefront. He was glad he was wearing his dress uniform when he approached the police officers. He pulled out his official coast guard ID. “I’m Chief Petty Officer Rafe DeSilva, and I have reason to believe this body may be linked to a Coast Guard investigation. You mentioned a tattoo, do you mind if I take a look? If you have a possible identity, I’d like to know.”
The uniformed officers exchanged wary glances, but then shrugged. “The tattoo on this guy’s shoulder is consistent with a missing person report we received for a William Schroeder. But since there’s not much left of this guy’s face or his fingers we’ll need either DNA or a dental match to be certain.”
Rafe’s gut clenched.
Bill Schroeder. Just as he’d feared.
He reached down to lift the sheet covering the body and looked at the shoulder tattoo for himself. He had a whole file on Bill Schroeder and he wasn’t surprised to see the tattoo of an anchor and the name Jeannie written along the bottom. Jeannie just happened to be the name of Schroeder’s ex-wife.
“Thanks,” he said to the police officers as he covered the body back up. “We’d appreciate a call once you do have a match with the dental records.”
“Sure,” the officer agreed.
Rafe jogged double-time back to the jeep to find Kayla and Brianna waiting patiently for him. He slid into the driver’s seat and glanced back at Brianna. “Did you time me?” he asked in a light, teasing tone.
“Yep. Mommy helped. You were gone six minutes. You’re late,” she said matter-of-factly.
He couldn’t help but laugh as he put the car into gear and then pulled away from the curb. “You’re right. I’m late. Sorry.”
“Mom promised we could stop for pizza on the way home,” Brianna announced. “Would you like to come with us?”
“Ah, Mr. Rafe is dressed for work, sweetheart,” Kayla quickly interjected. “Maybe another time, hmm?”
Kayla’s not so subtle un-invite bothered him. He sensed Kayla wanted to avoid him and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t think it was because of his Hispanic heritage, although he supposed anything was possible.
He’d never approached her on a personal level, asking her to go out with him. Kayla was a widow, and he was a widower. She was strong and brave and beautiful, but the last thing he wanted or needed was a ready-made family.
He also knew that her brother, Alex, had found God and faith thanks to meeting his new wife, Shelby, but Kayla hadn’t. So even though he knew he should stay far away from Kayla and her adorable daughter, he found himself wanting to help in any way he could.
Was it God’s intent that he help show Kayla the way? Maybe. At the very least, they could be friends.
“Actually, I had just finished with my meeting when Alex called,” he corrected smoothly. “And pizza sounds great. My treat.”
Kayla bit her lip and glanced away. He sensed she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of him coming along, but he had no idea why. It was just a simple meal.
“Yay!” Brianna shouted happily. He grinned, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. At least one female didn’t mind sharing dinner with him.
He ignored the pang of loneliness. The coast guard was his life; he wasn’t interested in anything more. His family had been gone for almost five years now. Stranded in the middle of the snowstorm, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, he’d ended up holding his pregnant wife, Angela, in his arms while she and their baby both died from a rare complication during labor.
No, a family wasn’t for him. He shook off the sad thoughts as he pulled up in front of Kayla’s SUV. “Which pizza place?” he asked.
“DiVinci’s,” she answered. The restaurant was located in the small town of Bear Lake, not far from where her bed-and-breakfast was located. He didn’t doubt she’d chosen the place closest to her house to dissuade him from going.
Ha. Fat chance. He could be stubborn, too. Besides, he couldn’t shake the protectiveness he felt toward her. Going to DiVinci’s would provide a good excuse for him to make sure she made it home without incident. “Sounds good. I’ll follow you there.”
Brianna jumped out of the backseat. Kayla leaned on the open passenger door. “Really, Rafe, I can explain to Brianna. I know you have much better things to do with your free time.”
He raised his eyebrows. Did she imagine he had some sort of active social life? If so, nothing could be farther from the truth. “Kayla, relax. I’m hungry and DiVinci’s has great pizza. It’s just a friendly dinner.”
“Okay, suit yourself,” she muttered before shutting the door behind her. He watched as she helped Brianna into her child safety seat, before sliding in behind the wheel. He pulled out behind her, following her to the highway.
As he drove, he mulled over the threads of his case. With Bill Schroeder’s death, their investigation would halt in a dead end.