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  “What did the note say?”

  “It’s not something you need to hear.”

  “Paul—”

  “Flipper, remember?”

  Tara sighed. “Fine. Flipper it is, although it still feels ridiculous to call a grown man by that nickname.”

  “Humor me, all right?”

  “If I must. Now, at least tell me the gist of the note.”

  “It suggested that hacking off a very valued part of the male anatomy would be the penalty for those who disregard this most recent warning.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “I wish I was.”

  “That’s just so uncalled for.”

  “You think?”

  “Paul, um, I mean, Flipper, if there’s anything else I can do to help with the police investigation, you have my word I’ll cooperate fully. And I hope you’ll be very careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you or to anyone you work with.”

  “Thanks, Tara. I believe you really mean that.”

  “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because, as you’ve made quite clear, you have no respect for what I do for a living.”

  “I’m sorry I said that. You must’ve provoked me.”

  Flipper grinned. He enjoyed sparring with her, even if he’d never let her know it.

  “I think my very existence provokes you.”

  She laughed, and it made him wish he could see her intriguing green eyes spark and her luscious mouth curve upward. He couldn’t get enough of her smile, especially when she directed it at him. That hadn’t happened often in their short acquaintance. And there was no reason for him to expect that he’d get to enjoy it again anytime soon. They were, after all, on polar opposite sides of a most contentious issue.

  And that was a damned shame, as far as Flipper was concerned, because he would’ve asked her out weeks ago otherwise. He shook himself to chase that regret from his mind, knowing it was pointless to torture himself by dwelling on impossible attractions.

  “Traffic’s getting kind of crazy. I’d better end this call so I can pay attention to my driving,” he told her.

  “Good idea. Listen…take care of yourself, okay?”

  “I will. Goodbye, Tara.”

  “Goodbye, Paul. I mean Flipper.”

  * * * *

  Flipper heard everyone talking at once when he walked into the conference room adjoining Wesley’s office and flopped into a seat around the big table next to Dr. Kelsey Kramer, the aquarium’s chief marine mammal veterinarian and Jo’s life partner. Across from Kelsey sat Zoological Care Manager Jarvis Jacobson, flanked by Kenshin and Sitara Patel, head of the rehab unit. Wesley settled at one end of the table and Jo at the other.

  Jarrod Carmichael, head of security, stood studying a map of the aquarium property tacked to a large bulletin board mounted on the back wall. With a red marker, he circled the areas of greatest concern while Jo noted those same locations on a smaller map.

  “All right, everybody, listen up,” Wesley instructed. “Jarrod’s going to give us a rundown on the security measures presently in place, and then we’ll take questions, comments, and recommendations from the rest of you.”

  As Jarrod launched into his presentation, it became evident that Gulf Shore needed to increase the hours of its current security staff, hire more guards, or bolster their ranks by contracting with a private company. Wesley directed Jarrod to meet in the morning with Jonquille Thompson, the aquarium’s human resources director, and draw up a plan.

  “Now that we’ve addressed the animals’ safety, what about certain aquarium personnel?” Jo asked. “By the way, that includes all of you in this room in addition to Flipper.”

  “I know our guards don’t carry guns, but maybe that’s what we need,” Jarvis suggested.

  They all turned to Jarrod. “That’s certainly something I can look into if we choose to go with outside help,” he replied. “Having armed guards patrol the property when we’re closed might make everyone feel better.”

  “Escorting employees to their vehicles after dark should be a priority, too,” Jo advised. “But what about when your people aren’t at work? Flipper’s note was delivered to his home this time, but that just as easily could’ve been any of the rest of you.” She gave Kelsey a pointed look.

  “Why would anyone come after me?” the veterinarian asked.

  “Because you help take care of these animals, so you’re part of the problem, as these screwballs perceive it. And the rest of you are the decision-makers, so you’re even more culpable. At least according to the loony-tunes thinking of an animal rights fanatic.”

  “What about my training staff?” Flipper asked Jo. “Shouldn’t we be worried about them, too?”

  “Absolutely. I suggest you and Kenshin warn each of them to be hyper-vigilant to their surroundings. And that extends to their spouses, kids, boyfriends, and girlfriends, too.”

  Wesley blew out a frustrated breath. “How are we supposed to keep all those people safe? We’ll do whatever we can as an organization to protect them, but we can’t lock them away and stand watch over them twenty-four hours a day.”

  The detective frowned. “Good question. I wish I knew the answer. But you can start by holding a staff meeting and filling them in on what’s happening.”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning when Jo walked into police headquarters, she was surprised to see Tara standing with a rigid posture at the front desk. The woman looked ill at ease, and Jo couldn’t blame her. Tara wasn’t a popular figure around Gulf Shore, which, despite being a fashionable vacation destination, had managed to retain its small-town ambience. Flipper, his fellow dolphin trainers, and other GSA staff enjoyed near-celebrity status, especially at their preferred after-work hangout, Bikini Barb’s Bar & Grill. Plus, the aquarium was situated right on the beach as the “jewel” of the tourist district, and the city fathers took a dim view of anyone or anything that threatened the area’s livelihood.

  Some locals had hurled derisive comments, not to mention water balloons and ice-cold beverages, at Tara and other SWADS members when they’d picketed with signs across the street from the aquarium weeks before. Police responded when counter-protests became so unruly that the anti-captivity activists had felt threatened.

  “Not so much fun when the shoe’s on the other foot,” one of Gulf Shore’s finest had sneered upon arriving at the scene. He’d let the locals get in a few more profanity-laced licks and spewed a few of his own before making a meager effort to control the chaos. His poor performance that day had earned him a reprimand in his personnel file.

  Tara and her minions weren’t Jo’s favorite people, either, but the SWADS leader had always conducted herself with dignity and insisted those with her do the same. Jo respected that. And it irritated her to see Tara getting nowhere with the officer working the front desk. The same idiot, as it turned out, who’d acted so unprofessionally at the picket site.

  “Excuse me,” Tara tried, “may I get some assistance please?”

  He ignored her, his head bent and his attention focused on something in his hand. Jo couldn’t see what it was from her vantage point, so she walked up beside Tara and peered over the counter. Busy tapping away on his cell phone, he didn’t acknowledge Jo’s presence, either. She cleared her throat. He still didn’t spare her a glance.

  She leaned over until she was inches from his face and barked, “Officer Higgins!”

  He jumped, nearly spilled his coffee, and muttered an expletive as he raised his head. The curse word died on his lips when he recognized Jo.

  “Oh, uh, sorry, detective. I didn’t know it was you.”

  “Obviously.” She gestured to Tara. “This woman’s been standing here, waiting for help, while you send texts, post on Facebook, or do whatever it is you’re doing besides your job.”

  The officer’s face flamed, and he glared at Tara. “What is it you want that’s so important?”

  She furrowed her brow at him and tur
ned to Jo. “Actually, detective, I’m here to see you. I happened to be driving by and thought I’d take a chance you’d be available.”

  “I just got here. Come on back to my office.”

  Higgins smirked and shook his head, and Jo rounded on him.

  “You might want to think about what you’ll tell your supervisor when he asks you to explain why you’re shirking your duties yet again.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but Jo showed him her back as she stomped away.

  *

  Tara sat in the chair Jo indicated and fidgeted with the white printer paper in her hands.

  “Thanks for accommodating me on such short notice, detective. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. What can I do for you today?”

  Jo’s tone lacked her usual peevishness, giving Tara pause. Not wanting to press her luck, she got right down to the reason for her visit.

  “I heard about the threatening note nailed to Paul’s—I mean Flipper’s—front door, and I wanted to offer any assistance you might need in your investigation.” She reached over and set the paper on Jo’s desk.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s the contact list of SWADS members you requested previously. Everything’s there. Names, home addresses, phone numbers, e-mails.”

  “Why are you giving this to me now? I thought it was an invasion of their privacy. Isn’t that what you said a few weeks ago?”

  “Yes, well, circumstances have changed.”

  “How so?”

  “The threat just became more personal. It’s one thing to mail an anonymous letter to the aquarium. But attaching it to the front door of someone’s home…well, I find that brazen and alarming.”

  “How do you know about the latest note?”

  “Flipper called me yesterday evening.”

  “He did? What time?”

  “Around seven o’clock. He was driving somewhere.”

  “Probably headed back to the aquarium. So why did he contact you?”

  “I asked him that, and he said he needed to hear my reaction to this most recent development.”

  “That’s…odd.”

  “I thought so, too. He also admitted that finding the note at his cottage seriously unsettled him. I found it even more puzzling he’d share that with me, considering we’re not even remotely friends, let alone confidantes.”

  “So did he tell you what the message said?”

  “Not word for word, no,” Tara replied. “He just mentioned a threat to remove a certain body part that men are so unreasonably proud of.”

  Jo snickered. “You know, I just might end up liking you yet.”

  Tara smiled and kept her thoughts to herself. It didn’t matter what Jo thought of her as long as the detective believed in her innocence. The two women assessed each other for a moment, and then Jo spoke as if she’d read Tara’s mind.

  “Just so you know, I don’t think you have anything to do with those anonymous letters. But I would like to question your ex-boyfriend.”

  “I’ve never known Steven to be violent, but I also didn’t think he was capable of betraying me, so who knows? It’s out of character and very worrisome for him to drop off the map like this. I can’t comprehend that his employer hasn’t heard from him lately. He was so wrapped up in succeeding as a financial adviser, and he seemed to be on the fast track to move up in the company. Have you considered the possibility he might be the victim of some sort of foul play?”

  “I suppose that’s conceivable. Who’d want to hurt him?”

  “This is just speculation, you understand, but Jane Childers’ husband always struck me as being overly possessive. He called her constantly when we were out on SWADS business. One time he even accosted me and demanded to know whether she’d told him the truth about where she’d been and what she’d been doing.”

  “Well, that’s interesting. Has any police agency contacted you about either of them?”

  “No, and you’re the only law officer who’s ever asked me about Steven’s possible involvement, which I find rather distressing.”

  “Yes, well, those letters aren’t high on anybody else’s priority list, I’m sorry to say. I talked to Christianson’s employers and they’re as perplexed as you are about his apparent disappearance. Nobody’s reported him missing, by the way. Is there anyone else who might be wondering where he is? Family? Friends?”

  “Both of his parents are dead, and he was an only child. As far as I know, he wasn’t close to any of his other relatives. I called a few of his golfing buddies after the last time I spoke with you and they hadn’t heard anything, either. They promised to call me if they did.”

  “If you find out anything, even if it seems of little importance, I hope you’ll let me know.”

  “Of course. Do you plan to get in touch with Jane’s husband? His name is Chase. He works at SunKissed Resort and Spa just outside of Orlando. His home address and phone number are on the paper I gave you, under Jane’s listing, of course.”

  Jo appeared surprised. “You haven’t purged her from your membership rolls?”

  “Actually, I have, and Steven, too. Trust me, I couldn’t wait to expel both of them from my organization and especially from my personal life. But I knew you’d want their contact information.”

  “That makes sense. And I’m definitely interested to hear what Chase Childers has to say for himself.”

  Tara pointed to a couple other names on the SWADS membership list.

  “These women were Jane’s closest friends in the organization. I have no idea whether they’re still on speaking terms because nearly everyone in the group expressed disgust at her and Steven’s behavior. And this fellow here”—she pointed to a third name—“used to play racquetball with Steven.”

  “Will you be in town much longer?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to get an appointment with Wesley Coffey, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want to be bothered with me. There’s really no other reason for me to remain in the area. You’ve got my cell number if you need anything, right?”

  “Yes. Do you expect to see Flipper again before you go?”

  A quizzical expression crossed Tara’s face. “The thought hadn’t even entered my mind. Why would I?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “He and I have nothing else to discuss.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “What are you driving at, detective?”

  “It just seems to me that if the man felt the need to speak to you yesterday after finding that note, perhaps you two have more in common than you might think. I mean, Evan Sanders is his best friend, and Flipper’s also close to my other half, Kelsey Kramer. But he didn’t call either of them. Instead, he called you. Go figure.”

  “If you’re suggesting what I think you are, I’m surprised you’re not running me out of town on a rail. I can’t imagine why you’d want me to become personally involved with Flipper.”

  “I admit the idea horrified me at first. But while I’m one hundred percent opposed to your stance on GSA’s marine mammals—you’re not grasping the circumstances that brought them there, and you’re discounting the good work Flipper, Kelsey, and their coworkers do—I believe you’re well-intentioned and aboveboard. And although he’d deny it, I suspect Flipper has a giant crush on you.”

  Jo’s observation so surprised Tara that she couldn’t immediately think of a comeback. She just stared at the other woman, who seemed amused by Tara’s befuddlement.

  “Why would you say that?” the activist finally blurted. “We’re like gasoline and matches. Put us together and we’re combustible.”

  “Generating sparks isn’t always a bad thing.”

  “Where’s this coming from? Did Flipper say something to you? To Kelsey?”

  “No, but I know him well enough to recognize when he’s interested in a woman, even when he’s trying to hide it.”

  “I think your radar has gone wonky.”

  Jo sm
iled. “Have it your way, but don’t be surprised one of these days when you hear me say I told you so.”

  Chapter 4

  “You told her what?” Incredulous, Flipper stared at Jo after she related her conversation with Tara at the police station. “Why would you say something like that? A crush? What are we, twelve?”

  “You can deny it all you want, but I know what I see,” Jo insisted with unshakable confidence.

  “Even if I was attracted to the woman—and I’m not saying I am, so don’t get excited—it doesn’t make one damned bit of difference. It’s flat out not happening. Not in this or any other universe. You got that?”

  Jo shot Flipper a smug look. “Never say never.”

  “You’re lucky you can kick my ass because otherwise I’d be sorely tempted to wrap my fingers around your throat and squeeze the piss and vinegar out through your ears.”

  “Just trying to help a buddy out. One day soon you’ll be thanking me.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  The last thing Flipper expected to discuss during the long-awaited poker night at his cottage was his supposed attraction to Tara Langley. He’d almost canceled the party because he didn’t want to endanger his friends if somebody really was out to get him, but they’d insisted on sticking to their plans. He figured part of the reason was to keep him company.

  Now, he almost wished he was by himself tonight. What was Jo thinking? And why aren’t any of these yahoos I work with outraged at the idea of such a colossal mismatch?

  Marine biologist Monica Sims pursed her lips. “Are you two going to play cards or jaw at each other all night? I’m just saying,” she added when the detective glowered at her.

  Kelsey snickered and elbowed Monica. “You’re awfully brave, chickie.”

  “Brave or idiotic?” Jo countered. Despite her steel-jawed countenance, merriment danced in her cocoa-colored eyes.

  Monica shrugged. “I’m a reformed mega-bitch, remember? I don’t scare easily.”

  Her boyfriend, Cosby Williams, barked out a laugh and regarded Monica with blatant admiration and affection. “That’s my girl.” He moved in for a kiss and didn’t pull away until Flipper cleared his throat.