Deep Waters (14 page)

“A resort? That's specific, all right.” Charity watched him fill the glasses with the cool sauvignon blanc. Her eyes were thoughtful and just a little wary. “Do you think Leighton knows what he's talking about?”

“Can't say.” He handed her a glass. “But I'll lay odds that whatever he thinks is going on is tied to his ex-wife's spaceship cult.”

She met his eyes. “Not to you?”

“Not to me.”

“Interesting. That brings up the question of what's going to happen on Monday.”

“I called a friend of mine in Seattle, a lawyer named Thorgood. Specializes in corporate law. His firm employs a whole fleet of researchers and investigators. I asked him to see if he can find out what Gwendolyn Pitt has been up to during the past few months.”

“Things are getting more and more mysterious, aren't they?”

“They may be a lot simpler than they seem.” Elias leaned back against the counter and took a sip of the wine. It was spicy and tantalizing on his tongue. Just like Charity. “Sounds like it may come down to money, after all.”

“Guess we'll just have to wait until Monday night to see what happens.” Charity's eyes gleamed over the rim of her wine glass. “Whoever said small town life wasn't exciting?”

“Not me.” He looked at her and suddenly could not look away.

The air became more dense between them. The invisible currents moving through it were charged with a spectrum of possibilities. There was no rush, he reminded himself. No rush at all. He would not allow himself to be swept away by the tide.

Charity blinked first. “What's for dinner?”

“Artichoke dip with toasted pita bread. Gorgonzola and spinach ravioli, hearts of romaine salad, and some hazelnut gelati with biscotti for dessert.”

Her eyes widened. “I'm impressed.”

He savored her astonished wonder. “I'll admit that I was surprised to find the biscotti in the Whispering Waters Cove Grocery.”

“You reaped the results of my months of negotiations with the grocery store manager. Mr. Gedding and I have a deal. He stocks the items I request, and I pay rip-off prices for them.”

“Fair enough.”

Laughter lit her eyes. She batted her lashes. “Have I ever told you how much I admire a man who can cook?”

“I don't believe you've mentioned it.” He put his glass down on the counter and turned to the stove. “But feel free to hold forth on the subject.”

“Okay. I deeply, deeply admire a man who can cook.”

She was flirting again. A good sign, Elias thought. This was right where he wanted to be. The trick was to stay here in the shallows where they could both have some fun without any danger of getting in too deep.

“I'll try not to take advantage of your vulnerability to good cooks,” he said as he set a large pan of water on the old stove. “How's Newlin doing?”

The mischief faded from her eyes. “I'm a little worried about him. He's afraid of what Arlene will do when the spaceships fail to show. I wish I could reassure him that everything will be all right, but the truth is, I don't know how she'll handle reality when it strikes.”

“We'll keep an eye on Newlin,” Elias promised. He realized as he spoke the words that he was starting to identify himself as a member of the Crazy Otis Landing gang. It was a strange sensation, but not unpleasant.

He took Charity home shortly after eleven. It was all very proper, very old-fashioned.

It was not, however, very easy.

The waves of sensual tension had grown stronger as the evening progressed. All throughout dinner she had watched him with an intriguing combination of shy anticipation and womanly knowledge in her eyes. Elias knew that she had been waiting for him to make the first move, the one that would lead to the bedroom.

It took a valiant effort to suggest that it was getting late and that it was time to return her to her own cottage. The surprise that flashed briefly across her face was almost enough to comfort the regret he knew he would feel later. Almost, but not quite.

Elias covered Otis's cage and stepped into his shoes. He paused to pick up the flashlight, but they did not need it. A partial moon and a sky full of stars provided enough illumination to see the bluff path. Across the cove the lights of the town and Crazy Otis Landing sparkled in the distance.

Charity's arm, tucked inside Elias's, was warm and supple and softly rounded. He could smell the scent of her shampoo. Something herbal, he concluded. It mingled with the balmy sea breeze and her own unique fragrance. The sum of the ingredients created a potent dish that aroused his hunger.

A balanced flow had to be restored in this relationship, he reminded himself. He had to stay centered. Hayden's words echoed in his head.
He who knows the Way of Water lets his opponent come to him.
A man and a woman hovering on the brink of an affair were adversaries whether or not they acknowledged it. Each wanted something from the other. Each had an agenda.

The good-night kiss at the door was tricky, but Elias had braced himself for it. He brushed her mouth lightly with his own. When she started to put her hands on his shoulders, he took a half step back. Her arms fell to her side.

“I'll see you in the morning,” he said.

She watched him through the veil of her half-lowered lashes. “Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful. Can I return the favor on Monday night?”

Satisfaction blossomed inside him. “I'll look forward to it.”

“Afterward we can walk down to the Voyagers' campground and watch the starships arrive.” She grinned. “I'm sure everyone in town will be there. Fun for the whole family. Better than the county fair.”

“Never a dull moment in Whispering Waters Cove.”

“Tell me, Elias, if the ships do happen to show up as advertised, will you be tempted to leave with the aliens?”

“No.” He looked into her eyes and felt the heat rise. “Something tells me that the answers I want are here, not somewhere out in space.”

She stilled. “Are you sure of that?”

“Very sure. But I haven't finished asking all the questions yet. Good night, Charity.” It was time to go. He had to get off her porch before the riptide caught him again and carried him back out to sea. He turned and went resolutely down the steps.

“Elias?”

Her soft, husky voice brought him to a halt. He looked back at her. “What is it?”

“Did you prove your point?”

“What point?”

“The one you've been trying to prove all evening.” She gave him a rueful smile. “That you're back in control? That even though things got a little exciting out there on the bluff the other night, you're still Joe Cool?”

“Ah, that point.” He should have known that she'd guessed what was going on. “Maybe.”

“Having fun yet?”

“No, but it builds character.”

She laughed and shut the door in his face.

Elias realized he was grinning like an idiot. A joke. That was definitely a joke. Maybe not a great joke, but still, what could you expect from a man who was new at this kind of thing.

He backed away from the porch, turned, and broke into an easy, loping run. With any luck, he could work off some of the excess sexual energy that was charging his senses with lightning.

In spite of the ache that desire had created in his
lower body, he felt good. Better than he had since Hayden had died. Better than he had in years. He ran faster. Below the bluff, silver moonlight played on the waters of the cove. The air was a tonic in his blood. The night stretched out forever.

He ran for a long time before he slowed to a walk, turned, and started back toward his darkened cottage.

He saw the movement at the window just as he reached the garden gate. He came to a halt and stood quietly in the dense shadow of a madrona tree. He watched with interest as a dark figure scrambled out over the sill.

The intruder grunted when he landed, panting, on the porch. As soon as he caught his balance, he started to struggle frantically with the raised window.

“Shit.” The expletive was a low, muttered exclamation.

Elias recognized the voice. Rick Swinton.

Swinton finally closed the window with one last, anxious shove. He swung around and dashed down the porch steps into the garden. There was a splash as he blundered straight into the reflecting pool.

“Goddamn it.” Swinton hauled himself out of the shallow pool and tore down the path, wet chinos flapping. He never saw Elias standing quietly in the thick darkness created by the madrona tree.

Elias could have reached out and touched him. Or stuck out a foot and sent Swinton sprawling. He did neither.

Instead, he followed his uninvited guest at a discreet distance. Swinton ran around to the front of the cottage and pounded down the narrow, tree-lined drive that led back to the main road.

His car was parked behind a stand of fir trees. He yanked open the door, leaped into the driver's seat,
and started the engine. He did not turn on his headlights until he was a hundred yards down the road.

Elias waited at the edge of the drive for a few minutes, curious to see whether Swinton would head back toward the Voyagers' compound or into town. The headlights turned left when they reached the intersection. Toward Whispering Waters Cove.

Elias walked slowly back to the cottage. He went up the porch steps and opened the front door. He removed his shoes and went into the house.

Crazy Otis was muttering anxiously beneath his covered cage.

“It's all right, Otis. I'm here.”

Otis calmed and then, true to form, turned a bit surly. “Hsss.”

“My sentiments, exactly.” Elias did not turn on the lights. He went to the window Swinton had used for his breaking and entering. “He either got lucky or he was watching the place all evening. When he saw me leave to take Charity home, he probably assumed I'd spend the night at her place.”

“Heh-heh-heh.”

“Yeah. Heh-heh-heh. Little did he know that I was using the evening as a Tal Kek Chara exercise in self-discipline and restraint.” Elias gazed out into the night. “Idiot.” He paused. “In case you're wondering, Otis, I was referring to myself, not Swinton.”

“Heh-heh-heh.”

Elias walked through the small cottage. The bare decor left few potential hiding places. It would not have taken Swinton long to go through the limited possibilities.

“I don't like guests who forget to remove their shoes, Otis.”

Elias was not surprised to see that the only thing that appeared to have been disturbed was the carved
chest in the bedroom. One glance inside revealed that Swinton had pawed through the contents.

The one item in the chest that Elias cared about, Hayden Stone's journal, was still safe at the bottom. He picked it up and turned it in his hands. He had not been able to bring himself to read it yet.

He replaced the journal and closed the lid of the chest slowly. It was possible that, having struck out at the house, Swinton had headed into town in order to break into Charms & Virtues. Elias hoped he wouldn't make too much of a mess.

“Everyone here in Whispering Waters Cove seems to think I'm a man of mystery, Otis.” He went into the bathroom to turn on the shower. “Hope they're not too disappointed when they find out I'm just an innocent, hardworking shopkeeper with no ulterior real estate motives.”

“Heh-heh-heh.”

Elias emerged from the shower a few minutes later. He rolled out the futon and settled down on it. He folded his arms behind his head and contemplated the shadowy ceiling.

“So, Otis, what was it like, sleeping in Charity's bedroom?”

“Heh-heh-heh.”

6
 
 

Water is deepest beneath the place where it appears the most calm on the surface.

—“On the Way of Water,” from the journal of Hayden Stone

The sight of Phyllis Dartmoor striding briskly into Whispers on Saturday morning did not brighten Charity's day. The mayor of Whispering Waters Cove looked even more determined and aggressive than usual. Charity wished she could duck out of the back door, but there wasn't time.

That would have been the coward's way out, anyway, she told herself. It was just unfortunate that she'd had very little sleep, having spent the long night instead lying awake, trying to analyze Elias.

It had not been a productive task. She had replayed the final scene at her front door a thousand times, and by dawn she had been forced to conclude that she'd had a narrow escape.

Sure, she had laughed at the time, even teased Elias. But in the cold, harsh light of day, it was clear that she had been in an unfamiliar, extraordinarily reckless mood last night. Make that the whole of the last week. Playing with fire, that's what she was doing. Not like her at all. That kiss on the bluff a few days ago had done weird things to her.

Amazing what could happen to one's normal sense of caution when one realized that one no longer suffered from panic attacks in a man's embrace.