Elias held his breath to avoid inhaling the odor of mint. “Is that a fact?”
“No need to play dumb.”
Elias thought of the kiss on the bluff. “But I do it so well.”
“Sure, sure.” Another wink. “I like a man with a sense of humor.”
“No one’s ever accused me of having one.”
“Not everyone appreciates a keen wit.” Sweat glistened on Leighton’s brow. “Let’s put our cards on the table. I know you own a consulting company called Far Seas, and I know just what kind of consulting you do. Only one reason you’d be here in our little town.”
“What reason?”
Leighton gave him a very knowing look. “You’re the advance man for the off-shore resort developer who wants to move in here to Whispering Waters Cove.”
“I see.”
“Don’t worry.” Leighton held up a plump hand. The huge diamond glittered. “I won’t try to pin you down. No questions asked. Man in your position has to keep a low profile. But, frankly, I wondered when you or someone like you would show up.”
“Did you?”
“Of course. Your client is getting ready to move. I just want you to know that you’re not the only player in this situation. I’ve got a piece of the action, too. Or I will have, very soon.”
“Uh-huh.”
The smell of breath mint grew stronger as Leighton edged closer and lowered his voice. “Can’t discuss the details yet. Like you, I’ve got to keep things quiet for a while longer. But I’ll be able to speak more freely early next week. Bottom line here is that I’m the one you’ll be dealing with when the ball starts rolling. Remember that.”
“Be hard to forget.”
Leighton chuckled. “You can say that again. Well, I’d better be going. Got an appointment. Just wanted to put you into the big picture before everything breaks loose. Hey, enjoy the weather. Summer doesn’t usually last more than a few weeks around here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“We’ll talk later.” Leighton turned and strode toward the door with a purposeful air. A man with a piece of the action. A player.
Crazy Otis shuffled back and forth on his perch and hissed softly.
Elias waited until Leighton had left the shop before he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number in Seattle.
A woman answered in low, rich tones. “Thorgood, Green, and Esteredge.” She reeled off the names of the partners in the law firm as if they had each been canonized.
“Craig Thorgood, please.”
“May I tell Mr. Thorgood who’s calling?”
“Elias Winters.”
“Just a moment, Mr. Winters.”
Craig Thorgood came on the line. “What’s up, Elias?”
His voice matched his office, rich and cultivated. The sort of voice that implied Thorgood had descended from several generations of old money and had followed a venerable family tradition when he had chosen to study law. Elias was one of the few people who knew that he had actually started out life on a farm in eastern Washington.
“Got time for a small job?”
“I’ve always got time to squeeze in a few extra billable hours. How small is the job?”
“I want you to find out whatever you can about a woman named Gwendolyn Pitt. Until a year ago she lived in Whispering Waters Cove. She’s back here now, but I’d like to know where she’s been for the past twelve months.”
“What kind of business is she in?”
Elias heard a faint squeak on the other end of the line and knew that Craig was leaning back in his chair. “At the moment she’s running a spaceship cult. But she used to be in real estate.”
“Spaceship cult, huh? You do meet some interesting people in your line of work, Winters.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Give me a call when you get something.”
“I will. How’s the curio shop business?”
“Just the way I like it. Slow.”
Craig laughed. “I give you six months at the outside. You’ll be back in Seattle by the first of spring.”
“I don’t think so, Craig.”
Charity showed up on the doorstep looking like the Spirit of Summer Night in a pale, high-waisted dress made of a fabric that seemed lighter than air. Elias felt his stomach knot with anticipation. The low, rounded neckline and little cap sleeves of her dress were at once flirtatious and innocent. Her auburn hair was done up in a casual twist that allowed little wispy tendrils to flutter around her cheeks.
She carried a bottle of chilled sauvignon blanc. Feminine mischief sparkled in her eyes. Elias knew that she was feeling very much in control of the situation. What really worried him was that he was half afraid she might be right. He drew a deep breath and summoned his resolve.
“I didn’t know if white wine would work with whatever’s on the menu tonight,” she said as she handed him the bottle.
“This is a good night for sauvignon blanc.” He took the wine and opened the door wide to usher her inside. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” She glanced down and smiled when she saw his bare feet. Without a word she stepped out of her sandals, placed them neatly beside the door, and walked into the small front room and glanced around curiously. “What did Leighton Pitt want this afternoon?”
“He admired my sense of humor among other things.” Elias inhaled the scent of her as she brushed past him. The light skirt of her gauzy dress snagged briefly on his jeans. It was going to be a very long night.
“Free advice,” Charity murmured. “Don’t believe everything a salesman tells you.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Crazy Otis, ensconced on top of his cage, looked up from the wooden toy he was busily gnawing. He eyed Charity with a hard stare and then muttered a churlish greeting.
“It’s easy to see why some scientists think birds are related to dinosaurs,” Charity remarked. “No manners at all.”
Elias put the wine on the counter. “Otis said hello, didn’t he?”
“Who knows what he said? All Crazy Otis does is mutter and cackle.” Charity strolled over to the cage and surveyed Otis at close range. “But I have to admit that he’s settled in quite nicely with you. I’m glad you two have hit it off. I was a tad worried about him for a while.”
“If you hadn’t taken him in, he probably would have gone under completely.”
“I didn’t really know what to do for a depressed parrot. I called a vet in Seattle, but he wasn’t too helpful. So I just sort of followed my instincts.”
Otis tilted his head to eye her more closely. “Heh-heh-heh.”
Charity made a face. “Not that you’ve ever shown so much as an ounce of gratitude, Otis.”
“He’s just too proud to admit he needed you,” Elias said.
“Yeah, right. You know, Hayden once told me that Otis could talk, but I’ve never heard him do anything except chuckle and hiss and mutter unintelligibly.”
Elias opened a drawer to find a corkscrew. “I’m sure Otis will talk if he ever has anything to say.”
“I won’t hold my breath.” Charity turned away from Otis to examine the spare room. “I see your furniture hasn’t arrived yet. You should have said something. I could loan you a couple of chairs and a table. I brought all my stuff from Seattle.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need any more furniture.”
That wasn’t strictly true, he thought as he went to work with the corkscrew. A slightly larger bed would have been nice. Making love to Charity on the narrow futon would be a challenge. Of course, he wasn’t going to have to worry about it tonight. Control was everything in Tal Kek Chara.
“I suppose this, uh, minimalist style goes with the obscure water philosophy.”
“Tal Kek Chara. Yes.”
“Tal Kek Chara. Is that what you call it?”
“Loosely translated, it means the Way of Water. The literal translation is a lot more complicated.” Elias suddenly realized that now that Hayden was
dead, he was probably the only person left in the states who knew the exact translation of the ancient words. It was an eerie, lonely feeling.
“I see.” Charity leaned down to touch the heavy glass bowl half-filled with water that sat on the low table. “This is a nice piece. Very nice.”
Elias looked across the room to where she stood gazing down into the bowl. Something twisted inside him. “I gave it to Hayden a few years ago.”
“He obviously treasured it.” She ran her fingertip meditatively along the rim of the thick glass. “It’s the only decorative item in the room.”
Elias thought about that. “I guess he must have liked it.” The tightness inside him relaxed. She was right. Hayden must have valued the bowl very highly to have kept it here in this otherwise spartan room.
Charity wandered across the small space to the kitchen area. “We were discussing Leighton. Did he compliment you on your humor in order to try to sell you some real estate today?”
“No. He informed me that he’s a player.”
“A player?”
“A mover-and-shaker. Wheeler-dealer. Big man here in town. A guy in the know.”
“Hmm. Any particular reason why he would make a special trip down to the pier to announce that to you?”
Elias took two glasses out of the cupboard. “He seems to think that things are going to get hot here in Whispering Waters Cove.”
She shrugged. “That’s certainly what the town council hopes will happen.”
“Pitt implied that he knows something specific. He says an off-shore developer intends to put in a golf resort and spa.”
“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 hal
t. 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.
Deep Waters Page 10
