Troubled Waters by Rachelle McCalla Page A

recognized and appreciated the extra-small-sized steel-platedbody armor. “How did you know I’ve wanted one of these since Saturday?”
    “I didn’t know,” He confessed, setting the body armor, wrapping paper and all, on the table behind them. His voice grew gruff. “I wanted you to have one. I don’t want to lose you.”
    Though he reached for her and longed to pull her into his arms, it still surprised him when she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a grateful hug.
    “Gentle now,” he suggested as her sudden squeeze made his bruises ache.
    Tracie pulled away immediately. “I’m sorry.” She looked slightly disoriented for a moment.
    Not wanting her to become embarrassed by her sudden burst of affection, Heath quickly changed the subject. “What did you find online?” he prompted her.
    “I did a little research on shark class subs,” she pulled him toward the living room where her laptop lay open to a page on naval history.
    “The shark class midget nuclear subs—” she took a shaky breath and began to read the article “—were built in the 1980s for speed and maneuverability, and could actually be lifted up out of the water and carried by train or truck when needed. They were all named after different kinds of sharks. During the Gulf War, two of them were lost with all hands: the Bramble and the Requiem. The Bramble was later found and raised, and her sailors were given a proper burial, but the Requiem was never located.” She met Heath’s eyes. “It disappeared, along with all four men inside.”
    Though he didn’t often give in to feelings of fear, Heath felt a distinct creeping sensation as the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up in response to Tracie’s words.He watched silently as she opened another window to an article about the Requiem and continued reading.
    “In 1990, the Requiem was engaged in an offensive operation as part of the Gulf War, and disappeared without a trace with all four hands on board. Efforts to locate the wreck have proven unsuccessful, as the area in which she was lost is one of many strong currents, and the sub may have drifted hundreds or even thousands of miles from the point where contact was initially lost.” Tracie stopped reading and turned her head to face Heath.
    “‘May have drifted thousands of miles,’” he repeated, then added his own ending: “or been driven.” He reached around her for the touchpad mouse and toggled the screen up and down. “Does it give the names of the men who were on her?”
    “No. I couldn’t find that information anywhere online.”
    “I may have some contacts in the Navy who can help us out.” He draped a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I think we’re on to something.”
    “But what? Is there any way of proving that conning cap came from the Requiem ?”
    “I don’t think so, not without having the rest of the ship to match it to.” Heath had looked the piece over very carefully once they’d returned to shore. “There’s no serial number on the portion we retrieved, and even if there were, it doesn’t prove the sub is actually in Lake Superior. The cap may have been transported here and dropped, which is probably just as likely as the possibility of the entire sub making its way here.”
    Tracie massaged her forehead with her fingertips. “There are so many possibilities it makes my head spin.”
    “Don’t think about it for a while,” Heath suggested. “We should eat, don’t you think?”
    “Excellent idea.” Tracie led him back into the kitchen. Unlike the night before when they’d eaten the pizza right out of the box, tonight she’d set the table, complete with linen napkins and a cheery vase of artificial flowers as centerpiece.
    While Tracie grabbed honey, jam and butter, Heath retrieved the food he’d brought from the oven.
    Tracie poured large glasses of milk for both of them. “Everything’s ready. Do you want to say the blessing?” She sat and looked at him