Page 1

CHAPTER ONE

HANK

I stand on the deck of the small cruise ship, cool wind on my face.

Before me, the Salish Sea stretches endlessly under a cloudy moon, bathed in heavenly blue light.

In stark contrast, the ballroom behind me buzzes as coworkers play poker and sip drinks at slot machines.

Cheesy rock music pours out to the deck as lights flash and bells ring, a small hell.

I adjust my tie. Okay, my accounting firm’s annual casino boat might not compare to eternal damnation.

But it is forced socialization with colleagues, with the additional challenge of being loud and annoying.

And there’s a fun touch of seasickness some years.

It’s an exquisite combination that we all at least pretend to enjoy.

Typically, I skip the hubbub inside and enjoy a long evening out here under the starry sky.

When I’m not busy at the office, I’m out in nature every chance I get, and an ocean tour is a treat.

But I’ve recently achieved a significant promotion, and I’m upper management now, so no more hiding on the sidelines.

I give myself a pep talk. After investing heavily in this career for years, I’m proud to have exceeded my goals, and I’m determined to rise to the new challenges.

Tonight, that means I walk straight back into the jowls of the casino boat, a gauntlet of tipsy accountants and actuaries high on gambling, and I make professional, dull conversation until we return to dry land.

My twin sister appears beside me. “You look like you want to jump off the boat,” Angie says.

Overdressed in my old suit across from her jeans and T-shirt, I frown and sip my beer. “Damn. I was trying to hide that.”

Angie wears reflective poker sunglasses to hide her eyes, a bulky and out-of-fashion pair she’s had since the first casino boat, and she adjusts them while she studies me.

She keeps her voice low and steady. “Should we make a break for it?”

“Did you bring a scuba suit?”

“We’d need underwater jetpacks to cover the distance. Otherwise, I’ll never make it back in time for tonight’s episode of Discovery .”

I shake my head as slot machines flash like ambulances blaring a warning inside.

“I’m afraid we’re stuck. And I’m contractually required to go play businessman.

” I look longingly down the rest of the deck, which is closed off from us with a simple wooden sign, suspended on a chain.

“I can’t even gaze at the sea without those damn alarms ringing in my ears.

I bet it’s beautiful down there, away from all this. ”

“Let’s check it out,” Angie says as she walks down the deck.

I follow her. “What? We can’t. There’s a sign.”

She turns to face me as she pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, holding my eye. “We’ve been attending casino night for years, and there’s an entire cruise boat that we’ve never explored.”

I stop walking. “You want to snoop?”

“Sibling shenanigans, like when we were kids,” she offers. “If you want peace and quiet, you have to go out and get it.”

I set my beer on a side table. “I’ll break a rule for the sake of silence. But I’m not snooping.”

She walks right up to the sign that declares Do Not Enter and steps over the chain, onto the other side of the deck. “See? Easy.”

I grumble under my breath. “That sign could be there for a good reason.”

“That’s why I need the new Finance Director of Audits to cover for me.”

After glancing over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone, I walk to the chain.

“Hardly. If we get caught, I’ll immediately turn on you.

” But I nod. “I just got a big promotion that I’ve been working toward for years.

In grim defiance of the decades of casino boats we both have ahead, I’ll shenanigan with you.

” I step quickly over the chain before someone comes along.

“But only far enough down this stretch of forbidden deck to get a little peace.”

Just five minutes of oceanic calm will be enough to recharge me for the rest of tonight’s chitchat marathon. I’ll practically be a new man.

Angie takes in a deep breath. She doesn’t emote much, but before we start walking, I see the hint of a smile on her face, satisfaction that I joined her in some fun.

“Maybe you’ll rise high enough in the ranks that you can declare a change to the tradition and replace casino night.”

“I’d drag you all to a mountain lodge. Somewhere with no flashing lights, where I can spend the day hiking.”

“Sounds nice. Although, if we’re spit-balling, I’d be entertained to see some of our coworkers attempt an escape room.”

I chuckle.

All of the doors we pass are quiet, and there’s only moonlight and starlight on this end of the ship, casting us in a purple-and-gray glow.

Casually, Angie tries one of the doors to see if it’s open.

“Angie!” I whisper-yell.

She clasps her hands behind her back and continues forward. “Right. Just a stroll,” she says.

“The promotion is going to mean so many more events like this,” I say. “Corporate hand-shaking. Black-tie dinners. International video calls. I’ll have to learn about tuxedos.”

Our accounting firm is among the oldest and most reputable in the Pacific Northwest, offering real security for me and my future.

I got into the profession because of the pleasure I find in numbers and order, and the company is rewarding me by letting me take those skills to the next level, comprehensive systems-level management and major responsibilities.

If it comes with a side of office politics, I can rise to that challenge, too.

“There’s reason why I’m staying steady where I am,” Angie says. “It’s very comfortable leading a small tech department that most people never think about. It will be fun to see you in a tux, though.”

We stop, and I lean against the railing. The waves are inky dark beneath us, but studded with crystal reflections of the moon and stars. We’ve finally gone far enough that I can’t hear the party any longer, and I let out a deep sigh into the tranquility.

“You’ll be great at all the boss stuff,” Angie says and pats my arm. “Especially if you go easy on yourself and indulge in some of those upper-management privileges, like walks down the forbidden deck.”

I smile, the sounds of the ocean soothing. “Thanks, Angie.”

She nods. “I’ll leave you to it. When you’re done, you’ll find me in deep at the poker table.”

“I’ll be hovering around the penny slots if you need me. Best of luck.”

She brushes off her shoulder. “Don’t need it,” she says, and I chuckle.

Angie takes off down the deck, leaving me alone. I stroll slowly, my hand on the railing, and let the rhythmic magic of the ocean transport me.

A door swings open, and my heart jumps. Darryl Peterson, the CFO of our company and my new boss, huffs out onto the deck. Dressed in a dark gray suit, with thinning hair carefully combed and serious eyes peering out from behind his heavy glasses, he startles when he sees me.

“Hansley!”

He always manages an intimidating presence despite his fidgety gestures. The man runs the firm with rigid expectations, and he keeps only a small support staff close while watching the rest of us like a hawk in the distance.

“Mr. Peterson,” I say, swallowing back the anxiety that’s rising up my throat as I search my mind for an excuse.

Why am I on the forbidden deck?

He finally learned my name a few years ago, after many years devoted to the company. But I’m Darryl Peterson’s direct report going forward, and this is not the impression I hoped to make.

“I was, you see, just getting some air,” I sputter out.

“No one is supposed to be back here,” he says as he sets his eyes firmly on me. “Did you overhear my phone call? That was a very sensitive conversation.”

“No, not at all! I heard nothing. And I’m sorry,” I say, hating every second of this, but he continues to study me.

“You attend casino night every year. Is that right?” he asks carefully.

“That’s right.”

He nods brusquely. “It’s important. Events like this let everyone know that you’re part of our family.” He considers me again. “Remind me, how many years have you been with us?”

“Nine,” I answer.

“And you’ve been hardworking and dedicated the entire time,” he says, jaw set. He looks out over the water, and I get the clear impression that he’s no longer talking about me. “Loyalty. Practicality. Commitment. You wouldn’t think values like that would go out of style.”

Darryl Peterson seems to pull himself back together. With a quick turn of his head, he eyes me up and down.

“As you’ve been out wandering the decks,” he says, and his tone becomes clipped and professional again, “have you seen anyone else?”

“No, sir. I’ve only been on my stroll for a moment,” I answer quickly. I note that his suspicion is back up. “I was getting some air,” I say again.

He frowns. “Fine. I need to get back to the festivities.” He clears his throat. “My son seems to have gone missing. As you’re out, I’ll ask you to help with that.”

“Your son?”

I think I know who he means, a young guy in his mid-twenties who was trudging along behind Mr. Peterson, dressed in a vintage gray suit and offering a perfectly neutral smile with bored eyes.

But I’m thrown because, of all the additional job responsibilities I’ve picked up, tracking down wayward sons clearly falls outside the scope of my position.

“Keep an eye out as you finish your constitutional,” he says with a slight wave of his hand. “He’s likely to get himself into trouble, but I hardly have time for that. Bring him back if you find him.”

He looks at me expectantly, and feeling cornered, I cave. “I’ll do what I can.”

He nods curtly. “Very good.”

When he departs, I can’t help but laugh to myself. This is what I get for turning in immaculate spreadsheets every quarter. I’ve been promoted all the way up to babysitter.

What if his son refuses to come with me? This could go wrong in so many annoying ways.

My lungs full of fresh air, I walk to the far end of the deck to finish my stroll. Outside of finding a boyfriend and settling down, I’ve built the life I always dreamed of. No reason to let another unpleasant casino night spoil my success.

“Excuse me!” a voice calls out, barely discernible beneath the low, steady rumble of the ocean and the wind.

My pulse jumps. I look around, but there’s no one I can see.

“Is someone there?” the voice calls again.

I blink. “Hello?” I manage, and then quickly try louder. “Hello! Uh, Darryl Peterson’s son?”

Damn, I wish I knew his name.

“Can I get a little help?”

The voice sounds like it’s coming from overboard, but that can’t be right.

Cautiously, I walk over to the edge and peer down.

There are several life rafts attached to the side of the ship, and in one of them, I see the young man from earlier.

He’s wearing an orange life jacket, unfastened in front, and he’s sitting on the raft and staring up at me.

I feel the blood drain from my face.

“Hello! Sorry to bother, but it seems I got myself stuck down here,” he calls out cheerfully.

My mouth hangs open. The rafts look secured, but the ocean is terrifying beneath him, waves crashing less than fifty feet below. How the man isn’t panicking, I’m not sure.

“Oh,” I say as my brain catches up, and then holler down to him. “Of course. Let me get help. Are you okay if I go to find the crew?”

He points up. “There’s a rope ladder right there. Could you just throw it down? I’m ready to get back on the deck.”

I look at the rope ladder. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

“That’s what it’s there for.”

I check carefully. The rope ladder is firmly attached to the ship, and it looks as though, even if he were to slip while climbing, there are several life rafts and structural elements to catch him.

My brain races. If I leave him alone, he might blame me and tell his father that I abandoned him. Even worse, something awful could happen while I’m gone. He could end up hurt, and I’d be responsible.

“Okay,” I concede despite my doubts. I take the ladder and toss it down, and it catches on the ledge beneath me, out of his reach.

“Damn it,” I curse under my breath, but he lets out an easy laugh.

“Close!” he yells.

It would be nice if he took this a little more seriously, but I shake that off.

I’m not about to cross the railing. Luckily, the ladder is reachable from here. I get down, flat on the ground, wrap one arm around the post for good measure, and extend my hand, nearly grasping it.

“Just about got it,” I yell out.

“Thank you! There are just so many ropes! And the one I thought I’d climbed down on fell as soon as I pulled it. I’m Elliot, by the way.”

Fingers brushing the rope, I crane my neck to look at him. “Hank,” I answer, and our eyes catch.

He looks vulnerable and perhaps a little confused, and it sends another jolt of panic through me.

I need to get my boss’s son to safety, immediately.

I grab the rope, my eyes fixed on him, like he might accidentally fling himself from the raft if I look away. “I really should get someone on the crew to assist you up,” I say. The ladder is caught, so I give it a good, strong tug. It comes loose, and as it does, the platform beneath me quakes.

Fear shoots up the back of my neck, an electric shock. I grip the rope hard, but it tugs back harder, lurching me off the side.

The life raft comes free, and as I let out a terrified yelp, Elliot and I go tumbling down.