ONE

      The full moon’s radiance blanketed the ocean. Tides were high. The generous breeze swirled in from powerful waves, leaving nothing but briny air to fill Caley Flynn’s nostrils as she tiptoed down the boardwalk to her favorite place in the whole world. Her fingers trailed the weathered wood railing as grains of sand collected under her newly manicured nails.

      Seven hours from Atlanta, where she’d grown up, she’d made Turtle Bay, Florida, her home right out of vet school. A small and lovely tourist town nestled along the peninsula separating the Gulf of Mexico and Tampa Bay, it was known for an abundance of sea turtles—especially loggerheads that nested on the sandy shores—fine dining and glorious summers.

      She slipped out of her hot-pink flip-flops with fading green palm trees and descended the sandy stairs onto the beach. She loved the way the powdery sand coated her feet. As she met the cool water, a sigh escaped her; she even relished the salty film the surf left in its wake. But mostly she loved this season. It was June and sea turtle nesting was in full swing. Through October she had the unique opportunity to study loggerheads, leatherbacks, green turtles and hawksbills as they swam to shore, burrowed a nest in the sand and deposited hundreds of eggs before swimming back into the depths of the sea. In the next couple of months, the hatchlings would make their trek to the water with nothing but the night’s gentle light to guide them.

      Caley had been on faculty as the head marine life veterinarian at the Arnold Simms Sea Turtle Rescue, Rehabilitation and Research Center since she’d moved here, thanks to a few strings pulled by her professor and mentor, Leo Fines.

      Every day was overloaded, but at night...nights sometimes belonged only to her, and she enjoyed her solitary strolls. She’d had a lot on her mind lately trying to secure a new grant for the nonprofit center. The fund-raising gala was coming up, and she was in charge of making sure everything went off without a hitch. They needed this grant. They needed the donations from investors.

      The foamy water teased her bare feet and ankles as wet sand slipped away with the undertow. She gazed up at the moon, gray clouds casting shadows across the dark water.

      Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

      The lull of the ocean reminded her that the world didn’t have to be full of violence. All her life she’d lived with the fear that something bad could happen to her or a member of her family. She hailed from a long line of navy men and women who’d gone on to serve in some branch of law enforcement, purposely putting themselves in danger.

      After her sister, Meghan, had died, she simply couldn’t deal with it anymore and she’d journeyed as far away as she could. Away from her family and the danger that surrounded them daily.

      Caley enjoyed her work. Enjoyed the people. Rescuing, rehabilitating and releasing sea turtles. Making them healthy. Educating the public. They had more volunteers this year than last. But the grant and donations rarely strayed from her mind.

      Moving out into knee-deep water, she walked parallel with the shore. Seaweed, like mermaid’s hair, fanned and raked across the water.

      She even loved seaweed.

      Wait.

      Caley removed her glasses and used her worn-thin gray T-shirt to clear the spots of water, then looked again. Inching closer, her lungs turned to iron.

      Dark hair. Not seaweed.

      Her stomach convulsed, threatening to bring up her dinner.

      Two more feet and the refreshing water chilled her bones, raising gooseflesh on her skin; a strangled scream erupted from her burning throat.

      Mary Beth Whaling, a student here in the college intern program, floated listlessly in the tide. Eyes wide open. Skin translucent.

      No. No.

      She trembled as she checked for a pulse, knowing it would be absent. How did this happen? When did this happen? Why?

      Fumbling for her cell phone in her back pocket, Caley glanced up and saw a kayak floating about ten yards out. She dialed 911. She and Mary Beth had just spoken at lunch. She’d mentioned going to bed early tonight and starting a new romance novel. One of the many things they had in common. Of all the female interns—of all twelve interns total—Mary Beth was her favorite. She reminded Caley so much of herself at nineteen. Just seven years ago.

      Sirens wailed in the distance as she stayed on the line with dispatch.

      The police and ambulance would be here any second.

      What was Mary Beth doing out here alone? She never swam without a second person.

      Unless she hadn’t been by herself.

      But why would someone leave her here without notifying authorities or the center if an accident had taken place?

      Was it an accident?

      A stream of questions bombarded her mind as she continued to stand by Mary Beth. Caley wouldn’t leave her, wouldn’t let the tide draw her out.

      As blue-and-red lights flashed, a couple of faculty members still working at the center made their way to her along with other interns from the dormitory next door. Shock, tears, horror etched their faces, mirroring Caley’s feelings.

      Billy Reynolds, the young man Mary Beth had been dating, flew toward her, but the officers held him back.

      “Mary Beth!” he hollered, voice cracking. “What happened? Caley, what’s happened?”

      Caley’s chest constricted. She had no answers.

      A large, bald man—by choice it appeared and not by age—squatted next to Caley. “Come on. Let the first responders do their jobs. I have questions.”

      So did Caley. She dropped Mary Beth’s cold hand and let the officer on the scene lead her farther up the beach, away from the onlookers. “I’m Officer Wilborn.”

      “Caley Flynn. I work for the Arnold Simms Center. Just down that way.”

      He looked toward the center and nodded. “How did you know the girl?”

      Caley rubbed her forearms. “She’s part of the intern program. We take twelve each year. From all over the United States. She’s from Oregon.” Her parents needed to know. “I have to call her folks.”

      “We’ll get to that. Do you know why she’d be out here this time of night and alone?”

      Mary Beth was wearing her racing-back swimsuit. The one she kayaked in. “I can’t believe that she was. Her younger brother died in their pool when no one was home and she promised her parents afterward she’d never go in the water alone.” Why did she change her mind?

      Officer Wilborn continued to pepper her with questions she had no answers to, then left her to ask questions among the interns.

      Dr. Leonard Fines, her mentor and the director of the center, sidled up next to her, draping his lanky arm around her shoulders. “I