Deep Waters (42 page)

“Was Rick Swinton any better?”

“Rick? That sleazy scumbag?” Jennifer bared her teeth in a feral smile. “I only went to bed with him because I had to find out what Gwen was doing here in Whispering Waters Cove. I knew when she arrived in town last month that she was up to something. Rick finally told me about the scam.”

“But by then it was too late to stop her.”

“Too late.” Jennifer raised the barrel of the gun. “It's always too late in this damned town. All I wanted was to escape, but I was trapped.”

“I understand,” Charity said gently. “I understand, Jennifer.” The arm on which she supported Otis was trembling. She could not tell whether it was she or the parrot who was shivering so violently. Maybe both of them were having anxiety attacks. It seemed reasonable, given the circumstances.

“After she was dead, that prick, Swinton, tried to blackmail me.”

“Blackmail? With what?” Something clicked in Charity's memory. “Oh, God. The missing tape.”

“Yes, the damned tape. That bitch, Gwen, had it running that night when I confronted her. I didn't know it at the time. Everything is recorded on that tape. Anyone who listens to it will know that I shot her.”

“And Rick found it when he found her body?”

“He knew where to look. He grabbed it during the initial confusion. He knew she always taped everything that happened in that damn motor home.” Jennifer's eyes narrowed. “At first he tried to make me think the demand for a payoff had come from Winters.”

Charity stared. “From Elias?”

“He said Winters must have found the tape when he checked to see if Gwen was still alive. After all, he was right there beside the body for several minutes. He had plenty of time to notice the tape player and slip the tape into his pocket.”

“The only thing Elias noticed was that the tape player was empty. He mentioned it later.”

“As soon as I got the blackmail threat, I realized that it had come from Rick. I knew Winters was not involved.”

Charity cleared her throat. “I'm sure Elias would be flattered by your faith in his integrity.”

“Not
his
integrity, you stupid woman. Yours.”

“Mine?” Charity's voice rose. “What does my integrity have to do with this?”

“You're having an affair with him. Everyone knows it. I realized that if you were willing to sleep with him, he couldn't be the type to steal evidence and then blackmail someone with it.”

Charity's mouth opened and closed twice before she managed to say, “I see.”

“On the other hand,” Jennifer continued, “blackmail was right up Rick Swinton's alley. Just his style. He was a fool to think I wouldn't know that he was the one behind the demand.”

“So you killed him.”

“I left the blackmail payment on the back porch of the old Rossiter cabin, just as I was instructed. I drove off, but I hid the car and doubled back to wait for Rick to show up. Which he did.”

“You confronted him?”

Jennifer gave her a twisted smile. “He kept screaming at me that I'd be sorry, that he had taken measures to avenge himself if anything happened to him, but I didn't believe him.”

“You shot him and pushed his body over the bluff into the water.”

“I knew it would wash up in the cove, of course. That made it easy to frame Leighton for both deaths. But this morning I found out that Rick had meant it when he said that he had taken precautions. I got a sealed letter expressed from his lawyer in Seattle. In it Rick told me just what he had done. That bastard.”

Another shock of fear swept through Charity. “What do you mean? What kind of measures could Rick have taken?”

A frantic expression passed over Jennifer's face. “He hid that damn tape somewhere here in Charms & Virtues. Said it was the perfect hiding place. He knew that if it was found, Winters would appear guilty of blackmail.”

“This has gone too far,” Charity whispered. “Jennifer, listen to me.”

“I came here tonight to search for the tape.” Jennifer glanced desperately around at the gloomy, cluttered interior of Charms & Virtues. “But I see now that it will be impossible to find it in this mess.”

“That's right. Impossible. Run, Jennifer. Run while you still can. Don't wait.”

“No. Everything's under control.” Jennifer locked both hands around the gun. “I came prepared. I have a can of gasoline with me. I'm going to burn this damned shop to the ground and the whole pier with it. No one will ever find that tape.”

The terrible panic threatened to swamp Charity. Otis's claws were clenched so tightly around her arm that they threatened to puncture straight through the towel. She summoned her most authoritative CEO voice.

“Jennifer, pay attention. If you leave now, you can escape. If you take time to set a fire, you'll never make it out of town.”

“Shut up. You have to die, you know. I really can't leave any witnesses, now can I?” Jennifer's hand tightened around the gun. Her eyes narrowed.

Charity prepared to hurl herself to the side. She knew it was highly unlikely that she could dodge the shot, but it was the only option left for her.

And then Otis screamed.

It was a loud, terrible, piercing cry designed to be heard for vast distances in the jungles where his ancestors had lived.

For the first time since Charity had known him, he uttered a clear, recognizable sentence.

“It's payback time,”
Otis screeched in a voice that was chillingly reminiscent of Hayden Stone's.

He launched himself from Charity's arm. Wings flapping wildly, fierce beak opened wide, he hurtled straight at Jennifer's horrified face.

19
 
 

A clear reflection on the surface of the water holds a deep truth.

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

Charity watched Jennifer do what any reasonable person would have done in the face of a ferocious attack by an animal possessed of a large beak and big claws. She yelled in panic, dropped the gun, and covered her eyes to protect her face. Twisting wildly, she reeled aside in an effort to avoid the bird.

Otis's clipped wings prevented him from altering course to follow her. He went into a long glide that carried him straight past Jennifer. With grand majesty, he sailed on through the office doorway.

Charity heard an ominous crash from inside the small room, but there was no time to check on Otis. She leaped for the fallen gun, which had hit the floor behind the counter.

“No. No, damn you.” Jennifer uncovered her face. She saw the gun and rushed madly forward to recover it.

Charity realized that Jennifer was the one who was closest to the weapon. There was no time to make a dash for the door. She had to get to the gun before Jennifer did.

Instead of circling the end of the counter, Charity planted both hands on top of it and propelled herself over in a mad dive.

She crashed into Jennifer. They fell to the floor and rolled. Jennifer landed on top and immediately attempted to get her long-nailed fingers around Charity's throat.

She succeeded.

Charity gasped for air and struggled desperately to pry Jennifer's fingers away from her throat. She was hopelessly outclassed. Jennifer had the advantage of height, weight, and a longer reach.

For an instant, everything went gray as panic welled up inside Charity. She could feel Jennifer's fingers tightening and knew a terrible sense of impending doom.

And then, as if he were standing beside her, giving instructions in a calm, dark voice that pierced the blinding fear, Charity recalled the simple self-defense moves Elias had begun to teach her.

Do not seek to block the onrushing tide. Instead, create another path for the water.

Charity stopped trying to pit her strength against Jennifer's. Going against her own instincts, she released her opponent's wrists. She shoved her hands straight up between her attacker's arms, aiming for Jennifer's eyes.

Jennifer cried out and leaned back to avoid Charity's stabbing fingers.

Charity gulped air as Jennifer's fingers loosened. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the flashlight that Elias had left on the shelf below the counter. She reached out, grabbed it, and slashed wildly at Jennifer's head.

Jennifer yelled and tried to duck the blow. The flashlight caught her on the cheek and sent her spinning away.

Charity swung the flashlight again and connected with Jennifer's skull. Jennifer lurched to the side. Charity rolled free and started to scramble to her feet. She was on her knees when she heard footsteps pounding toward her.

“What the hell is going on back there?” Davis yelled.

“Let me go, damn you.” Jennifer's cry was a keening wail. “Let me go.”

Charity blinked, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Are you all right?” Elias asked. Holding Jennifer with one hand, he looked down at Charity. His face was cold and savage.

“Yes. Yes, I think so.” Charity rose cautiously. She was shaking so badly that she had to steady herself with one hand on the counter.

Elias released Jennifer and reached for Charity.

Jennifer collapsed, limp and defeated. She clutched her head and burst into great shuddering sobs.

Charity stared at Elias. “I heard footsteps. Thought it was Davis.”

“I'm right here.” Davis rounded the end of the counter. “Elias moves a little faster than I do.” He touched Charity's face. “Jesus. I don't believe this. Are you okay?”

She nodded and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks
to Otis and Elias. Oh, my God, that reminds me. Better check on Otis.”

There was a disgruntled squawk from the vicinity of the office doorway. Everyone except Jennifer turned to look.

Otis swaggered out of the shadows. His feathers were ruffled, but he was obviously unhurt. He came to a halt and waited imperiously for someone to offer him a lift up to his perch.

Charity gazed at him with admiration. “It was the most incredible thing. Otis hurled himself straight at Jennifer. She was going to shoot me. He distracted her. Made her drop the gun. He gave me the chance I needed. Gentlemen, that bird saved my life.”

Elias woke shortly before dawn. He lay quietly for a moment, intensely aware of the empty place beside him on the futon. Charity had gone home to her own cottage with Davis after Tybern had finished asking his endless questions. Elias had been obliged to go home alone with only Otis for companionship.

At one time he would have been able to convince himself that Otis was all the company he needed. But this morning, as he watched the sky lighten to pale gray, he realized that was no longer true.

A dam had broken somewhere inside him. The river of loneliness flowed freely. The surging current bore memories that he did not want to examine. He'd had the experience before. He knew how to stem the raging tide.

But this time he did not go through the disciplined mental exercises designed to send the images downstream. Instead, he made himself look more closely at the reflections on the water.

He saw his mother's white, lifeless face just before the ambulance attendants covered her. His grieving
grandparents floated past next. The figures were so consumed by their own sense of loss that they had little energy to spare for their grandson. He saw himself waiting for the letter that never came, the one that would tell him that his father wanted him to join him on the island of Nihili.

He watched himself coax the money for the long flight to Nihili from his disinterested, angry grandfather. Saw himself as he got off the small plane on the island and eagerly search the tiny crowd for the face of his father. Then he saw the quiet man with the ancient eyes who walked toward him. Hayden Stone had been the one who had told him that his father was dead.

Elias let the memories drift past. He watched until they were lost once more in the endless darkness. Then he rose from the futon and pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt.

He reached into the carved chest and picked up Hayden's journal.

Otis mumbled behind the cage cover as Elias padded barefoot across the small front room.

“Go back to sleep,” Elias said softly. “You had a hard night.”

Otis fell silent.

Elias went out onto the porch, picked up a mat, and walked down the steps into the garden. The sky had grown markedly brighter, he noticed. No fog this morning.

He settled down beside the reflecting pool and opened the journal to the last few pages.

This morning I caught a glimpse of the final lesson that I must somehow convey to Elias. I do not know if I will have time to teach it. I
felt the pain in my chest again during the night. Soon the river of my life will rejoin the sea.

But Elias is young and strong, and unlike me, his soul has not yet been chilled by the icy cold of the deepest waters. He still has the capacity to hunger for life.

When he has seen the folly of his desire for vengeance, he will be free. And when he is free, I hope he will be fortunate enough to find a woman who can help him learn this last and most important lesson. I want him to discover that his true self needs more than what the discipline of Tal Kek Chara can give him. I have taught him to be strong, but if he is ever to know real happiness, he must go beyond the Way of Water. He must learn to open himself to love.