Deep Waters (29 page)

After a while Newlin fixed Elias with a peculiar, searching look. “Did you use that Way of Water stuff
on those two dudes who broke into your house last night?”

Elias glanced at him. “Who told you about the Way of Water?”

Newlin shrugged. “Charity mentioned it a couple of times. So did Yappy and Ted.”

“Hayden used to talk about it a little,” Yappy explained. “Always meant to ask him more about it. But I never got around to it.”

Elias studied the thick glass mug in his hand. It was clouded with foam and smeared with beer and fingerprints. Everything he could see through it was blurred and fragmented. “There were some things that I never got the chance to ask him, either.”

“About this water thing,” Newlin said hesitantly.

Elias took a swallow of beer. “What about it?”

Newlin looked uncomfortable, as if he was trying to gather his nerve. “Well, Charity said you might be willing to teach it to me.”

Elias was briefly startled out of his underwater dream world. “She said that?”

“Yeah.” Newlin was ill at ease but determined. “So I was just wonderin' if you would.”

He had always been the student, Elias realized. The thought of himself as an instructor struck him as marvelously strange. “I don't know if I can teach the Way.”

“Well, could you, like, try?” Newlin asked.

Elias thought about it some more. Instructing Charity in a few simple self-defense moves was one thing. Teaching the whole of Tal Kek Chara was something else again. “I don't know. Maybe.”

Newlin's smile completely altered his thin face. “Hey, thanks.”

Elias forced himself to swim through the currents of the dream. He looked at his companions. “That
reminds me. I'm supposed to thank the rest of you for coming to my rescue this morning.” He saluted them with his beer mug. “So, thanks.”

“No problem,” Yappy said.

Ted nodded. “Forget it. If the situation was reversed, you'd have done the same.”

“Yeah, we've all got to stick together down there at the pier,” Newlin said.

“Which reminds me.” Yappy glanced at his watch. “Council meeting's due to start in a few minutes. We'd better hustle our butts on down to town hall. Can't leave Charity, Radiance, and Bea to face that crowd of barracudas alone.”

“Right.” Ted heaved himself to his feet. “You coming, Elias?”

“Hadn't planned on it,” Elias said.

Newlin cleared his throat. “Charity says it's kind of important. Word is, there's gonna be a resolution to use public funds to buy the pier from you.”

“I'm not selling.”

Yappy looked at him. “Maybe you should go to the meeting tonight and make that real clear, Winters.”

Phyllis Dartmoor, dressed in a pearl gray suit styled with an aggressive pair of shoulder pads, stood at the center of the long table. She banged the gavel with her customary authority.

“This meeting will now come to order,” she announced.

Charity listened to the hum of conversation fade around her. She was seated in the third row. Radiance and Bea sat next to her on the left. There was no sign yet of Yappy, Ted, or Newlin. She had kept one seat vacant beside her, but she was not really expecting Elias to put in an appearance.

“The secretary will please read the minutes of the last meeting,” Phyllis ordered.

Liz Roberts, a large woman who had served on the council for longer than anyone could recall, rose at the end of the table. She began to read in a strong voice that carried clearly to the last row of seats in the small auditorium. Charity tuned her out. Everyone knew that reading the minutes was the high point of Liz's month.

While the secretary droned on through the summary of the July council session, Charity ruminated on the subject that had been plaguing her all day. She was becoming more and more concerned about Elias.

It was bad enough that Rick Swinton had apparently escaped justice. But what worried her the most was the confrontation between Elias and Justin Keyworth that morning. Elias had been in a strange mood when she had patched him up in the women's room.

“Mayor Dartmoor emphasized that the Voyagers would be gone by the fifteenth of August and suggested that no more council time or public funds be wasted on efforts to force the group to leave—” Liz broke off as a soft buzz of speculation rippled through the crowd. She glowered at the audience above the rims of her reading glasses, but no one noticed. Everyone was too busy staring at the doorway of the council chamber.

Charity felt the hair on the back of her neck stir. She turned her head and saw Yappy, Ted, and Newlin saunter into the room and take seats in the last row. Newlin gave her a cheerful wave across the heads of the onlookers.

Then she saw Elias. He didn't join the other three men in the back of the room. Instead, he came toward her down the aisle between the seats. His eyes never left hers.

“The issue of the renaming of Crazy Otis Landing was brought up again,” Liz read very loudly. “A committee was established to look into the matter. Gabe Saunders put forth the idea of purchasing the pier from the new owner, whoever that proved to be. The committee assigned to investigate renaming of the pier was told to check into the possibility of an outright purchase.”

Elias sank into the empty seat next to Charity and gave his full attention to the council session in progress.

Charity did not like the grimness of his expression. She frowned and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“You know me, enigmatic, mysterious, and unpredictable.”

“You're still in a lousy mood, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

People were beginning to stare. Charity gave up in disgust and straightened in her seat.

Liz Roberts concluded the reading of the minutes and sat down. Phyllis rose. She gave Elias an approving look.

“I'm pleased to see that we have the new owner of Crazy Otis Landing here with us tonight,” she said. There was a murmur of interest from the crowd. “Given the importance of the pier to the future of this town, I think we should proceed directly to the committee report. Gabe?”

Gabe Saunders, a wiry little man who looked as if he should wear a green eyeshade and who was, in fact, a certified public accountant, got to his feet. He cleared his throat and picked up his report.

“I'll begin with the renaming issue. Your Honor, as you know, the names Sunset Landing and Indigo Landing have both been suggested for the pier. The
committee selected Indigo Landing on the grounds that it had more of an upscale ring to it.”

Charity leaped to her feet. “Hold on here, you can't just rename the landing by fiat. That pier is private property.”

Beside her Bea and Radiance muttered angrily to themselves. The audience murmured appreciatively. Charity knew that it was preparing to be entertained with another skirmish between herself and Phyllis.

Phyllis gave Charity a frosty smile. “You can hardly object to a new name for Crazy Otis Landing.”

“On behalf of the Crazy Otis Landing Shopkeepers Association, I want to make it clear that we most certainly do object,” Charity said firmly. “The present name has character and a uniquely whimsical quality which we feel will appeal to tourists. We like it, and we intend to keep it.”

Phyllis's eyes narrowed. “You heard the committee report. Everyone agrees that Crazy Otis Landing sounds too unsophisticated to attract the high-end tourist market.”

“I don't care what the committee decided,” Charity said. “You can't rename the pier without permission of the owner.”

“True.” Phyllis fixed Elias with a determined smile. “And since he's here tonight, I suggest we ask him what he thinks about renaming the property.”

Hushed expectation smoldered in the room. Everyone looked toward Elias.

“Well?” Charity glowered down at him. “Say something.”

Elias glanced at her and then looked at Phyllis and the rest of the council. “The current name suits the pier. We'll keep it.”

Phyllis scowled. Another murmur went through the crowd. There was a smattering of applause.

Charity sat down with a sense of triumph. Radiance and Bea grinned at her. In the back row Newlin let out a whoop.

Gabe Saunders scowled. “The mayor's right. It doesn't sound real sophisticated, Mr. Winters.”

“The pier isn't what anyone would call real sophisticated,” Elias pointed out.

Laughter greeted that observation.

Phyllis banged the gavel for silence. “That brings us to the second issue before the committee. Gabe, you agreed to check out the possibility of making an offer for the pier. What did you conclude?”

Gabe shrugged. “Like I told you yesterday, Phyllis, we can afford to do it if we want, provided it's for sale and assuming Mr. Winters doesn't inflate his asking price above current market value.”

Charity prodded Elias's arm. “Tell them you aren't interested in selling.”

Elias gave her a laconic look. Then he turned obediently back to the council. “The pier isn't for sale.”

Another ripple of conversation passed over the crowd. It was louder this time. Charity noticed Tom Lancaster, the editor of the
Cove Herald,
scribbling swiftly on a notepad.

Phyllis frowned at Elias. “Are you absolutely sure about that, Mr. Winters? The town is prepared to make a reasonable offer.”

Charity shot back up to her feet. “You heard him. He just told you the pier is not for sale.”

Phyllis's mouth tightened with barely restrained anger. “I was under the impression that Elias, here, actually owned the pier, not you, Charity. Would you mind very much if he spoke for himself?”

“She's doing a pretty good job of speaking for me,” Elias said very politely. “Might as well let her finish.”

Someone gave a snort of laughter. The crowd tittered.
Charity felt herself turn crimson as she subsided into her chair.

“I believe we'll table this issue until next month.” Phyllis smiled coldly and turned to another member of the council. “Clark, would you please give us the report of the Fair committee?”

Clark Rogers rose to his feet.

Elias did, too. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the council chamber. Charity watched uneasily.

An hour later at the conclusion of the council session, she joined her fellow shopkeepers on the front steps of the town hall. Everyone was jubilant.

“Hope that settles the thing once and for all,” Bea said. “It'll be all over town by tomorrow morning that we told the mayor and the council to their faces that the pier was not for sale.”

Ted yawned. “Sure hope it's the last time I have to sit through one of those council meetings. Damned boring.”

“I don't think Crazy Otis Landing will be on the agenda again anytime soon,” Radiance said. “Elias made it clear that he's not interested in renaming the pier and he's not open to offers.”

“Glad he decided to attend the meeting tonight. Nothing like having the new owner of the pier make a public statement to put the rumors to rest,” Yappy said.

“Right,” Ted nodded. “Only way to stop the gossip—” He broke off at the sound of high heels clicking on the cement steps. “Evening, Phyllis. We were just talking about how the results of tonight's meeting should put paid to a lot of the rumors that have been goin' around lately.”

“If you believe that, Ted, you're in for a surprise.” Phyllis came to a halt on the steps and pinned Charity
with a seething expression. “A lot of fresh gossip is just getting started. Maybe you haven't heard it yet, but I'm sure you will soon enough after what happened tonight.”

Charity groaned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You have to ask?” Phyllis gave her a derisive smile. “I should think you'd be able to figure it out for yourself. Everyone saw Elias Winters say exactly what you told him to say tonight. And everyone knows you're having an affair with him. People are bound to assume that you're sleeping with him in order to influence his decisions concerning the pier.”

Charity sucked in her breath. “That's not true.”

The men gaped.

“That's an outright lie,” Radiance declared.

Bea drew herself up. “How dare you imply such a thing?”

Phyllis gave her a grimly polite smile. “I'm only telling you what other people are saying. Personally, I don't believe a word of it, myself.”

“I should think not,” Bea muttered.

“After all,” Phyllis said, “Anyone who knows anything about the Far Seas Corporation knows that Charity wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of seducing the president of that company with the goal of influencing his business decisions.”

“Christ, Phyllis.” Ted looked pained. “That's playing it a little rough, isn't it?”

She rounded on him. “You think I'm playing rough? Well, let me tell you, Winters is the cold-blooded one. Charity may think she's in control of the situation, but my hunch is that Elias is just amusing himself with her while he bides his time waiting to close whatever deal he's brokering with his off-shore clients.”

Newlin frowned. “Just what kind of deal would that be?”

Phyllis clenched her fingers around the strap of her leather shoulder bag. “I'm sure we'll all find out soon enough. But you can be certain of one thing. Elias Winters has no long-term personal interest in Charity or in Crazy Otis Landing. He's only here to make a profit.”

She marched down the steps and strode off toward the parking lot. The staccato click of her heels echoed in the light fog.

Silence settled on the small crowd gathered on the steps.

Charity gazed thoughtfully after Phyllis. “Does this mean I don't get to play the Ingrid Bergman role in the Whispering Waters Cove production of
Notorious
after all?”