Identity Unknown. Terri Reed

ONE

      “Two guards at the south entrance.” Canada Border Services Agency officer Nathanial Longhorn spoke into the microphone attached to his flak vest.

      On the cold December morning, Nathanial stared through the scope on his C7 assault sniper rifle from his perch on the southeast corner of a warehouse overlooking the commercial shipping port of Saint John Harbour, New Brunswick. The overcast sky shadowed the world in a gray haze.

      His breath condensed into a white cloud, obscuring his vision in the threatening chill of an impending snowstorm. A whiteout was the last thing his team needed. He prayed the bad weather held off for a few more hours.

      “Copy that.” Through Nathanial’s earpiece came the reply from his friend and fellow Integrated Border Enforcement Taskforce team member, US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent Blake Fallon.

      Blake motioned and two members of the team below split off to subdue the guards.

      Nathanial kept an alert eye for anything that would impede or jeopardize the IBETs members on the ground as they stealthily made their way down the street to another warehouse a block away.

      They were determined to bring down an arms dealer and his network of smugglers who illegally brought small and large weapons across the border between the two countries. The latest intelligence reported a shipment of handguns would be brought into Canada tonight.

      The men who made up the IBETs team were from various law enforcement agencies on both sides of the international boundary line between Canada and the United States. Nathanial was proud to be a part of the team and would give his life for each and every one of the other team members regardless of their nationality.

      The successful completion of this mission would be a welcome Christmas present, indeed.

      He intended to head home to Saskatchewan for a much-needed respite with his family. Though he doubted the visit would be very relaxing. His mother and grandmother would be on him about fulfilling his destiny and settling down to provide grandchildren.

      An old sorrow stirred, but he quickly tamped it down.

      Despite his grandmother’s certainty that there was a soul mate out there for him, Nathanial was skeptical about love and marriage. He’d come close once with his high school sweetheart, but that relationship had ended in tragedy and heartbreak. He’d decided then going it alone was better than opening himself up to that kind of pain again.

      Besides, he liked his bachelor life too much to tie the knot like some of his friends and coworkers. Though Nathanial never lacked for female company, the thought of hearth and home made him want to run screaming into the night.

      Being domesticated wasn’t on his agenda. He was over thirty and set in his ways. He liked the freedom of taking off on an assignment at a moment’s notice. He enjoyed the variety of dating different women, always careful to make sure any woman he spent time with knew he wasn’t interested in anything serious or long-term.

      Some ladies took that as a challenge to change his mind, and others walked away before they became too attached.

      He tolerated the former until he couldn’t and appreciated the latter.

      He’d yet to meet a woman who made him want to change his mind. And frankly, he doubted he ever would.

      A chill skated over the nape of his neck, drawing his attention to the current assignment. Once the two guards were out of commission, Nathanial did another visual sweep. All appeared clear. Good. He was cold and ready to wrap this up so he could have a cup of hot coffee and warm himself by a roaring fire.

      He was about to give the go-ahead to the team when his attention snagged on a gold luxury sedan turning onto the street a few blocks away.

      The arms dealer? Or someone in the wrong place at the wrong time? “Hold up.”

      He prayed the car kept driving, because if it didn’t, this op was going to become more complicated.

      Behind him, the scuff of a shoe on the concrete roof sent his heart hammering. He rolled onto his back, bringing the rifle up, his finger hovering over the trigger. A man loomed over him. Confusion and panic vied for dominance. Then the butt of an automatic submachine gun rammed into his skull.

      And the world went dark.

      * * *

      Deputy Sheriff Audrey Martin sang along with the Christmas carol playing on the patrol car radio. The first fingers of dawn rose over the horizon. From her spot parked on a rise overlooking the small fishing village she’d been born in, she surveyed the streets and buildings of the township of Calico Bay, Maine, dusted in white.

      This early-morning patrol was her favorite time, especially in winter. Gone were the summer windjammers and tour boats from the harbor. Now only the commercial fishing vessels and tugboats remained, most of which were already out to sea, while everyone else stayed snug in their beds. The population of the town receded to those whose lives began and ended here. Fishermen who made their living off the ocean, always hunting for a good day’s catch, and those who supported the fishing industry.

      She’d been on the job for less than a year and already she wanted to run for sheriff when the office’s current occupant retired. There would be those who would cry nepotism, because Sheriff David Crump was her mother’s aunt’s husband. And there would be those who would oppose her for the simple fact she was female. Two strikes against her.

      But she’d win them over with her capabilities. She had to. Failure wasn’t an option. Too many people expected her to fail. She wanted to disappoint them. She wanted to make her family proud. Especially her mother and father, rest his soul.

      He’d been gone since she was a child, but she still wanted to honor his memory by doing well and serving her community.

      Having grown up with a doctor for a mother and a fisherman for a father, she knew hard work and commitment were the keys to succeeding. Not that she needed much beyond her studio apartment and the respect of the town.

      Though her mother constantly warned her if she didn’t take another chance on love, she’d end up old and alone.

      Better that than having her heart trampled on all over again. Those were three years of her life she’d never get back. Three years wasted on a man who had cheated on her and then called her a fool for believing in love.

      Well, she wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

      She warmed her hands in front of the car’s heater vents and sang beneath her breath, not really in tune but enjoying singing anyway. Outside the confines of the patrol car, snow flurries swirled in the gray morning light and danced on the waves of the Atlantic Ocean crashing on the shores of Calico Bay, a sweeping inlet that formed a perfect half-moon with a picturesque view of their friends across the waterway in New Brunswick.

      The radio attached to her uniform jacket crackled and buzzed before the sheriff’s department dispatcher, Ophelia Leighton, came on the line. “Unit one, do you copy?”

      Thumbing the answer button, Audrey replied, “Yes, dispatch, I copy.”

      “Uh, there’s a reported sighting of a—”

      The radio crackled and popped. In the background, Audrey heard Ophelia talking, then the deep timbre of the sheriff’s voice. “Uh, sorry about that.” Ophelia came back on the line. “We’re getting mixed reports, but bottom line there’s something washed up on the shore of the Pine Street beach.”

      “Something?” Audrey buckled her seat belt, shifted the car into Drive and took off toward the north side of town. “What kind of something?”

      “Well, one report said a beached whale,” Ophelia came back with. “Another said dead shark. But a couple people called in to say a drowned fisherman.”

      Audrey’s gut clenched. All sorts of things found their way into the inlet from the ocean’s current. None of those scenarios sounded good.