In the Dark

by Heather Graham

  "What?" Laurie shouted.

  "Crab," Alex replied quickly. Bile rumbled in her stomach, raced toward her throat. She gritted her teeth, swallowed hard and felt the icy coldness of the woman's flesh. No pulse. The woman was dead. Alex rose, hurrying back to Laurie.

  "She's dead. I'll stay here, you go for help."

  "I'm not leaving you here alone with a corpse."

  "Okay, you stay, I'll go."

  "You're not leaving me here alone with a corpse!"

  "Laurie—"

  "She's dead. She's not going anywhere. We'll both go for help."

  "Yes, but what if someone…what if a child comes out here while we're gone?"

  "What?" Laurie demanded. "You think I'm going to throw myself on top of a corpse to hide it? There's nothing we can do except hurry."

  "I'm not afraid to be alone with a corpse."

  "You should be. What if the person who turned her into a corpse is still around here somewhere?"

  Alex felt an uneasy sensation, but it was ridiculous. She shook her head. "Laurie, she's drifted in from…from somewhere else. She's been in the water a while."

  "Maybe. Neither one of us is an expert."

  "Laurie, that…stink takes a while to occur."

  "Let's just hurry. We won't be long, and she won't go anywhere."

  "All right, then, let's go."

  They tore back along the path they had taken and minutes later, neared the Tiki Hut. Laurie opened her mouth, ready to shout.

  Alex clamped her hand over it. "No!"

  Laurie fought free. "Alex! Did you touch that corpse with that hand? Maybe she died of some disease."

  Alex had to admit she hadn't thought of such a possibility. She winced, but said, "We can't just start shouting about a corpse. We'll cause a panic."

  She scanned the Tiki Hut. The mothers who had been on the swim earlier were there—the teens were evidently off somewhere else. She would have liked to see

  John Seymore. Since he was an ex-navy SEAL, he would surely know how to handle the situation.

  She would even have liked to see David, Mr. Competence himself. Cool, collected, a well of strength in handling any given situation.

  "Let's find Jay," she said.

  She caught Laurie by the elbow, leading her past the Tiki Hut and along the flower-bordered stone pathway that led to the lobby of the lodge. They burst in, rushing to the desk. Luckily, no one was checking in or out. Len Creighton was on duty. Thirtyish, slim, pleasant, he smiled as he saw them, and then he saw their panic and his smile faded.

  "Len, I need Jay. Where is he?"

  Len cast a glance over his shoulder, indicating the inner office.

  She headed straight back.

  Jay wasn't there.

  "He's not here," she called.

  "I'll page him."

  His voice was smooth as silk, hardly creating a blip against the soft music that always played in the lobby.

  Moments later, Jay Galway, looking only slightly irritated, came striding across the lobby.

  He was tall and lean, with sleek, dark hair, expressive gray eyes and a thin, aesthetic face. Patrician nose. His lips were a bit narrow, but they added to the look almost of royalty that he carried like an aura about him. She really liked her boss. They were friends, and he had always been ready to support her in her decisions, even if he didn't agree with them. She'd known him before she'd come to work here. In fact, he'd called her about the job when he'd heard about the divorce.

  He paused in front of the counter, perfect in an Armani suit, and stared at her questioningly.

  "What on earth is this all about?" he demanded.

  He was still a short distance away from her, and a few guests had just come in and were heading in their direction.

  "I need to talk to you. Alone." She glanced meaningfully at Len.

  "I hide nothing from Len."

  Alex glanced at Len and wondered if there was more going on between the two men than she knew. Not that she cared, or had time to worry about it now.

  "There's a body on the beach," she said very softly.

  "A body," echoed Laurie, who was standing behind her.

  He stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "This is Florida, honey. There are a lot of bodies on the beach."

  Alex groaned inwardly. "A dead body, Jay."

  "A dead body?" Len exclaimed loudly.

  They all stared at him. "Sorry," he said quickly.

  Jay gave his full attention to her at last, staring at her hard, his eyes narrowing. His focus never left her face, but he warned Len, "Shut up. I mean it. That reporter is around somewhere. All we need is him getting his nose into this."

  Alex stared back at him, aghast. "Someone is dead, Jay. It's not a matter of worrying about publicity. Will you call the sheriff's office—please?"

  "Right. Len, call the county boys and ask them to send someone out. Someone from homicide."

  "Homicide?" Laurie murmured. "Maybe she just…drowned." "It still needs to be investigated," Alex said, still staring at Jay. His behavior puzzled her. They had no idea who the dead woman might be, where she had come from, or even if there was a murderer loose in paradise, and he seemed so blasé.

  Finally he said, "Show me."

  "Let's go."

  Len started to follow, but Jay spun on him. "You're on duty. And you," Jay warned Alex, "make it look as if we're taking a casual stroll."

  "Jay, honestly, sometimes—"

  "Alex, want to cause a panic?" Jay demanded.

  "Sure. Fine. We're taking a casual stroll."

  They left the lobby, Alex leading. Jay behind her, Laurie following quickly. They took the path through the flowers, passed the Tiki Hut—which seemed unusually quiet for the time of day—and around the lagoon area.

  "Alex, slow down. We're taking a stroll, remember?" Jay said.

  She looked back, still moving quickly. "Jay, we're in shorts and you're in an Armani suit, about to get sand in your polished black shoes. How casually can we stroll?"

  He let out a sound of irritation but argued the point no further.

  They reached the pristine sand beach. The temperature was dropping, the sweet breeze still blowing in.

  Alex came to a halt. Jay nearly crashed into her back. As if they were a vaudeville act, Laurie collided with him.

  "What the hell?" Jay demanded.

  "It's gone," Alex breathed.

  "What's gone?" Jay demanded.

  "The body."

  Laurie was staring toward the thatch of seaweed where the corpse had lain. She, too, seemed incredulous. "It—it is gone," she murmured.

  Without turning, Alex could feel the way that Jay was looking at her. Like an icy blast against the balmy summer breeze, she could feel his eyes boring into her back.

  She didn't turn but ran down the length of the beach, searching the sand and the water, looking for any hint as to where the body had been moved.

  "What, Alex?" Jay shouted. "You saw a corpse, but it rolled down the beach to catch the sun better?"

  She stopped then, whirling around.

  "It's moved," she said, walking back to where Jay stood.

  "Your corpse got up and walked?"

  She exhaled impatiently. "Jay, it was here."

  "Really, Jay, it was," Laurie said, coming to her defense.

  They all turned at the sound of a motor. A sheriff's department launch was heading their way. Nigel Thompson, the sheriff himself, had come.

  Usually Alex liked Nigel Thompson. He looked just the way she figured an old-time Southern sheriff should look. He was somewhere between fifty and sixty years old; his eyes were pale blue, his hair snow-white. He was tall and heavy, a big man. His appearance was customarily reassuring.

  He tended to be a skeptic.

  A skeptic when rowdy, underage kids told their stories. A skeptic when adults who should have known better lied about the amount they had been drinking before a boating accident. He was never impolite, never skirted the law, bu
t he was tough, and folks around here knew it.

  He cut the motor but drew his launch right up to the beach. Hopping from the craft, he demanded, "Where's this body?"

  Jay looked from Nigel to Alex.

  "Well?" he asked her.

  She lifted her chin, grinding down hard on her teeth. She looked at Nigel. "It was right here," she said pointing.

  He looked from the sand and seaweed to her. "It was there?"

  "I swear to you, it was right there."

  He looked at Alex, slowly arching an eyebrow. "Alexandra, I was just about to sit down to dinner when the call came in. Tell me this isn't a joke or a summer prank."

  "Had to have been a prank—and Alex fell for it," Jay said. He didn't sound angry with her, but he did sound aggravated.

  "I'm here now," Nigel said, looking at Alex. "So tell me what you saw."

  "A sunbather who thought it was one hell of a joke to fool someone into thinking she was dead," Jay said.

  "She was dead," Alex said. "Nigel, you've known me for years. Do I make things up?"

  "No, missy, you don't," the sheriff acknowledged. "But there is no body," he pointed out.

  "It was here, right here. I got close enough to make sure she was…I touched her. She was dead," Alex asserted with quiet vehemence.

  "She sure looked dead," Laurie offered.

  Alex winced inwardly, aware her friend was trying to help. But her words gave the entire situation an aura of doubt.

  "She was dead," Alex repeated.

  "Cause of death?" Nigel asked her.

  "I didn't do an autopsy," she snapped, and then was furious with herself.

  "There was nothing that suggested a cause of death?" Nigel asked patiently.

  She shook her head. "If she had washed up with a rope around her neck, I didn't see it. I'm sorry, I've dealt with dead dolphins, but I never interned at the morgue," Alex told him. "But I know a corpse when I see one."

  "So you've seen lots of corpses?" Jay asked.

  "I've seen enough dead mammals, Jay." She looked at Nigel. "I swear to you that there was a dead woman here, tangled in seaweed."

  He sighed, looking at the sand and the water, then back to her. "No drag marks, Alex. She wasn't pulled into the bushes."

  "She was here," Alex insisted stubbornly.

  "Alex, I'm not saying this is what happened, but isn't it possible that someone was pulling a prank?"

  "No," she said determinedly.

  "So…what did happen? Why isn't she here?"

  "I don't know. I thought she was far enough out of the water, so I don't think the waves could have pulled her back out… I think someone came and moved her."

  "They were quick," Nigel commented.

  "I'm telling you, she was here. Isn't there a way you can check? It will be dark soon. Can't you spray something around, see if there are specks of blood in the seaweed or on the sand anywhere? Better yet, take samples.

  Get more men out here and make certain that the only tracks around came from Jay, Laurie and myself?"

  "There could be dozens of tracks around, and it wouldn't mean anything. The beach is accessible to all the staff and every guest," Nigel told her.

  "Surely there's something you can do," Alex said.

  "I can see if a body turns up again," he told her quietly. "Seriously, Alex. The most likely scenario is that the woman wasn't dead. Maybe she was unconscious but came to while you were up at the lodge. One of you should have stayed here."

  Alex glared at Laurie.

  Laurie looked back at her defensively. "Hey, how could I know that a corpse could get up and walk away?"

  "A corpse can't get up and walk away," Jay interjected impatiently. "Unless the person you saw was not a corpse."

  "We're going in circles here," Alex told him.

  "This is ridiculous," he told her. "You pull me out here, make me ruin my good Italian shoes, drag Nigel away from his supper…because you saw someone passed out. Maybe someone in need of help, who you left. Or, more likely, someone playing a joke. A sick joke, yes. But a joke, and you fell for it."

  Alex lifted her hands in exasperation. "All right, fine. There's nothing I can say or do to make you believe me. Nigel, I'm sorry about your supper. I owe you one. I'm going to take a shower."

  "Wait a minute," Nigel said. "I'm not ignoring this. I'll make a check on passengers who took the ferry over today, and, Jay, you check your guest lists. We'll make sure that everyone is accounted for."

  Alex stood in stony silence.

  "Alex, that's all I can do since there's no body," Nigel said patiently. "We're not New York, D.C., or even Miami. I don't have a huge forensic department or the manpower to start combing every strand of seaweed, especially since the tide is coming in. Alex, please. I'm not mocking you. It's just that there is no body." He turned to Jay. "Get busy on the paperwork, Jay. I'll handle the ferry records. And, Alex…don't mention this around, all right?"

  She frowned curiously at him. "But—"

  "Don't you dare go alarming the guests with a wild story," Jay said.

  "Actually, I was thinking that if there was a corpse and someone's hidden it, it might be a very dangerous topic of conversation," Nigel told her.

  "He's right," Jay said. He pointed a finger toward Alex. "No mention of this. No mention of it for your own safety."

  "Oh, yeah, right."

  Nigel turned around, looking at the beach. He shook his head and started away.

  "Where you going, Nigel?" Jay asked.

  'To check on the ferry records," Nigel called back.

  He reached his launch, gave it a shove back to the water and waded around to hop in, then gave them a wave.

  Jay stared at Alex and Laurie again. "Not a word, you understand? Not a word. It doesn't matter if there were a dozen corpses on the beach, Alex, they're not here now. So keep quiet."

  "Fine. Not a word, Jay," Alex snapped, walking past him.

  "Hey! I'm your boss, remember?" he told her.

  She kept walking, Laurie following in her tracks.

  "I'm still your boss," he called after her. "And you owe me a new pair of shoes."

  They were soon out of earshot. "Alex, there really was a corpse, wasn't there?" Laurie asked. But she sounded uncertain.

  "Yes."

  "Perhaps…I mean…couldn't you have been mistaken?"

  "No." She turned. "I'm going to go take a hot shower and a couple of aspirin. I'll see you later."

  Laurie nodded, still looking uncertain. "I'm sorry. Jay has a way of twisting things," Laurie said apologetically.

  "I know. Forget it. I'll see you later."

  She lifted a hand and turned down a slender trail that led through small palms and hibiscus, anxious only to reach her little cottage.

  She slid her plastic key from the button pocket of her uniform shorts and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open.

  The air was on; the ceiling fan in the whitewashed and rattan-furnished living-room area was whirling away. The coolness struck her pleasantly.

  She walked through the living area and into the small kitchen, pausing to pull a wine cooler from the refrigerator. She uncapped it quickly and moved on, anxious to flop down on the sofa out on the porch. She opened the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and went out, actually glad of the wave of warmth outside, tempered by the feel of the night breeze and the hypnotic whirl of another ceiling fan.

  But even as she fell into a chair, she tensed, sitting straight up and staring across to the charming white gingerbread railing, too startled by a figure looming in the shadows of coming twilight to scream. Then she took a deep breath of relief when she recognized who it was.

  It wasn't just anyone planted on her porch.

  It was David.

  He was wearing nothing but swim trunks, broad, bronzed shoulders gleaming, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the rail. He was very still, and yet, as it had always been with him, it seemed that he emanated energy, as if any moment he would move
like a streak of lightning.

  Her heart lurched. He was so familiar. How many times had she seen him like this and walked up to him, wherever they were, sliding her fingers down his naked back, sometimes feeling the heat of the sun and sometimes just that of the man? She had loved the way he had turned to her in response and taken her into the curl of his arm.

  How many times had it led to so much more? There had been those days when, just in from the water, he had been speaking to a TV camera, holding her as he talked, then had suddenly turned to her, and she had seen a sudden light rise in his eyes. She could remember the way he would move, his attention only for her, as he excused himself, smiled and led her away. By the time they reached a private spot, they would both be breathless, laughing and pulling at the few pieces of clothing they were wearing. He could move with such languid, sinewy power; the tone of his voice could change so easily; the lightest brush of his fingers could evoke a thousand rays of pure sensuality. And she had been so desperately, insanely eager to know them all.

  But then, that had been in the days when it had mattered to him that she was with him.

  He didn't smile now. His deep blue eyes were grave as he surveyed her. She'd seen him cold and distant like this, as well, the light in his eyes almost predatory.

  "David," she said dryly, pushing away the past, forcing herself to forget the intimacy and remember only what it had been like once she had determined to pursue her own career and he had begun to travel without her. Days, weeks, even a month…gone. Not even a telephone call, once he was with his true love. The sea.

  And those who traveled it with him.

  "Alex," he responded. "I've been waiting for you."

  "So it appears. Well, how nice to see you. Here. On my porch. My personal porch, my private space. Gee, this is great." Her tone couldn't have held more acidity.

  "Thanks." Her welcome hadn't been sincere. Neither was his gratitude. But there was no mistaking the seriousness of his next words.

  "So," he said, "tell me about the body you found—the one that disappeared from the beach."

  Chapter 3

  "What?" she said sharply.

  "You heard me. Tell me about the body." He uncoiled from his position, coming toward her, taking a chair near hers. He was close, too close, and she instantly felt wary and, despite herself, unnerved. They'd been apart for a year, and she still felt far too familiar with the rugged planes of his face, the bronzed contours of his hands and fingers, idly folded now before him.