She’d known Anita and George all her life. They, along with her mom and dad, had been career military, and then her dad had done a stint as a cop while her mom had worked in a library when they’d first been married. Her dad had been over fifty when Katie had been born, and because her mom had been forty-one, Katie was considered something of a miracle child. They’d moved from New Orleans—her dad’s family’s home—to the Florida Keys before Katie was born because of their love for the water, boats and diving. Katie had grown up with that love and shared it with a passion.

She hadn’t wanted to push it. Her parents, she thought, were too tired for a third dive today, no matter that the charts said they could do more time at this easy depth. But Anita—bless her—knew Katie was in seventh heaven because of her birthday and adult certification and so had risen to the occasion and come in with her. And they had been together until...

Katie had noticed a curious barracuda lurking by a reef and had followed his glittering silver body at a distance. Barracuda were okay, as were most creatures, if you left them alone. And while they weren’t diving in John Pennekamp State Park—where the waters were protected, there was no fishing, and fewer underwater plants and animals offered any danger as their natural food supply was healthy—they were close enough to the park so the fish had a ready food supply and most probably would not be after people.

And she had just been watching, keeping her distance. Of course, there were sharks in the water; she knew not to thrash around, and she never wore jewelry while diving or did anything to attract any kind of predator.

Still...

She realized now she didn’t see Anita anywhere. And she’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t even remember when she had seen her last. They’d only planned a thirty-minute dive, but...

She winced. Thirty minutes were up. Anita was going to be very angry with her for swimming off. Just as her parents were going to be angry.

She had to face the music.

She had promised to stay near the boat. Her father had wanted to head back as soon as this last dive was over; it was a bit of a ride to get home, even once they cut through a channel to take the Gulf side of the island chain rather than circle around on the Atlantic. Their scuba gear had to be washed down, the boat secured and so on.

When she’d gone in, he’d reminded her, “Hey, I’m not a spring chicken anymore!”

And she had called back, “Just another old rooster running around Key West.” She adored her dad.