"So they say," he murmured, then asked politely. "Can I walk you to your cottage?"
"I don't rate a cottage—not yet," she told him with a shrug. "I just take the trail back to the fork in the road and head for the staff quarters. I'll be fine." She grinned to take the sting out of her next words, moved a step closer to him, and whispered, "Feel free to go question another employee. You'll find out every word I said was true."
He had the grace to flush. She gave him a wave and made her way past two couples on the dance floor, both a little inebriated, but heck, they weren't driving anywhere. If you were going to feel the influence of alcohol, this was the place to do it.
She could hear the band long after she had left the Tiki Hut behind. She started off thinking nothing of the night or the shadows, the trails were lit by torches—not like the ones at the Tiki Hut, which were real, but electrical torches made to give the grounds an island feel. Still…
Once the Tiki Hut was well behind her and the noise from it had dimmed, she thought the night seemed especially dark. Strange, because her dad had shown her once before how the glow that radiated from Miami—sixty or seventy miles away, still extended this far when the sky was clear. But clouds were out tonight. It was storm season, of course. They'd had several nice days in the last week, though, she mused.
Nice days. A few with calm seas, a few others when the water was choppy. But then, the water didn't have to be wild to carry something—like a corpse—to the shore.
She stopped dead suddenly and instinctively, some inner defense aware of a rustling noise. She felt the hair rising at her nape.
She spun around. Nothing. But the bushes seemed to be very, very dark.
She had a sudden, vivid and ridiculous image of a corpse stalking her along the trail…
"Don't be ridiculous," she said aloud to herself.
But then…a rustling in the bushes…
She stared in the direction from which the noise had come, her heart racing a million miles an hour. Slowly, she made a circle where she stood, looking around.
The noise came again. She spun sharply, staring into the brush once again.
Then…a fat possum waddled out from the bushes and moved slowly across the path.
She let out her pent-up breath and giggled.
Then she turned, ready to set out along the path again. Instead she plowed into something dark and solid, and before her numbed mind could react, arms reached around her.
"Alex, for the love of God!"
David's voice was muted by the glass, but his impatience was evident. She was so relieved to realize that he was the figure on the porch that she didn't really think. She opened the sliding-glass doors, but she had to yell.
"You son of a bitch! What the hell are you doing out there? You nearly scared the life out of me."
He pushed his way in. It was dark, only the lights in front of the house illuminating the area around them. She could see that he still looked like a million bucks, dressed in dark chinos, a red tailored shirt and a light jacket.
She rued the fact that she was wearing a tattered T-shirt with the words "Moon Bay" embroidered in powder blue against a deep aqua background. She was equally sorry that it was very short. Silly. Even if they hadn't been married and she didn't have every inch of his anatomy etched into her memory forever, they spent their lives in bathing suits. She wondered why the T-shirt made her feel so naked. And vulnerable.
He walked through the cottage, checking the front door, looking around. "Is there any other way in here?" he asked, turning around slowly and studying the living room.
"Abracadabra?" she suggested.
"Cute, Alex. Is there any other way in here?"
"Front door, back door, as you can see."
He ignored her and headed for the small hallway that led to the bedrooms and bath.
"Hey!" she protested. She started to follow him, then paused, determined that the last place she wanted to be with him was a bedroom.
A moment later, he was back.
She frowned slightly, realizing he looked as if he had been running his fingers through his hair. She turned on the kitchen lights and stared at him once again. He looked tense. He reminded her of a shark, giving the impression of deceptive ease, while eyeing his prey to strike.
"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.
"There was someone walking around your cottage, looking in the windows. I chased him around one side…and lost him," he told her.
"If there's anyone slinking around here," she said softly, "it's you."
He threw up his hands. "Alex, I'm serious."
"And I'm serious, too."
"Get this straight—I'm concerned."
Crossing her arms over her chest, she said firmly, "David, get this straight. You don't need to be concerned about me. I don't care about a technicality. We're not married anymore. I might not have been here alone."
"Actually, knowing you, you do care about a technicality," he informed her.
He was far too relaxed. "You followed me," she accused him. "You followed me when I was with another man, who was more than capable of taking care of me if I'd been in any danger."
"Alex, I don't really know that guy, and neither do you, and most important," he said very softly and seriously, "we are talking about a life-and-death situation."
She suddenly saw the man she knew from television, interviews and even, once upon a time, her personal life. The ultimate professional. Reeking of authority and command. Absolute in his conviction.
And for some reason, she shivered.
The woman on the beach had been dead. No matter what anyone tried to tell her. There had, beyond a doubt, been a corpse.
And it had disappeared.
"Maybe you'd like to explain it to me," she said.
He stared at her for a long moment. "I keep thinking you're better off, the less you know," he said quietly.
"Why? You already think I'm in some kind of danger."
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"You found a body on the beach. A body that disappeared."
She shook her head, watching him warily. "We've been through this. Jay and the sheriff were both certain I was duped."
"But you know it was true."
She wished so badly that she didn't feel such a desperate desire to keep her distance from him at all costs. Because she did know him. And she knew that he believed her. It wasn't necessary for him to have been these—he believed her.
"If you're so convinced, there must be a reason," she said flatly.
"Want to put some coffee on?" he suggested.
"No."
"Mind if I do?"
"Yes." Even as she spoke, she knew he would ignore her. He gave her a glance as if she was behaving like a spoiled child and moved into the kitchen. His arm brushed hers as he strode past her, and she felt as if she'd been burned.
Apparently he hadn't even noticed. He was heading for the cupboard above the coffeepot.
"Would you stop making yourself at home here, please?" she said, walking past him and shoving him out of the way. "I'll make coffee. You talk."
"What did she look like? The woman on the beach. What did she look like?"
She turned around and stared at him. "Like…a woman. Blonde."
"You didn't recognize her?" He stepped past her, impatiently taking the carafe and starting the coffee.
"Recognize her?" Alex said, startled.
"Yes, did you know who she might be?"
"No. She was at a strange angle. And she had long…or longish hair. It was covering her face. I touched her throat, looking for a pulse. And then…I don't know how to describe it exactly, but there was no way not to know she was dead."
"But you let them convince you that she couldn't have been, that you were wrong, and she just got up and walked away?" he demanded.
There was a note of disappointment in his tone.
"The sheriff was there," she told him sharply. "He doubted me. Ther
e was no body. What the hell was I supposed to do?"
He turned his back on her, opening a cupboard door.
"Cups are over here," she said impatiently, producing two from another cabinet.
He poured the coffee. He drank his black, so she was startled when he went to the refrigerator, absently taking out the milk to put a few drops into hers.
She accepted the coffee, watching him, feeling again an embarrassed awareness of his crisp, tailored appearance and her own tattered T-shirt. Ridiculous to think about such things when they were talking about a corpse, she told herself.
"Did you mention your discovery to lover boy?" he inquired, sounding casual as he put the milk back in the refrigerator.
"I don't like your tone," she told him.
"Sorry, I don't like what's happening."
"Are you actually jealous?" she demanded.
"I'm not trying to run your life, if that's what you mean," he assured her. "I just don't like what's happening here."
"You haven't explained a damn thing yet, David."
"Did you tell him?" he persisted.
She let out a sigh of irritation. "No, but that doesn't mean I won't. For tonight…tonight I'm waiting. The sheriff will get back to us, let us know if anybody's missing from one of the ferries or the Middle Keys. He and Jay might have made me feel a little foolish today, but Nigel Thompson is a good man and no fool. And I could accuse you of many things, but being a total idiot isn't one of them. So get to it. What's going on?"
"I'm afraid I might know your corpse," he said quietly, his eyes a strange cobalt by night, and steady upon her.
Her heart seemed to skip a beat.
"Who?"
"Alicia Farr."
"Alicia?" she exclaimed. "Why…why would she be around here? There's not much to attract a woman of her reputation at a place like Moon Bay…but then again, there's not much here for you." She stopped speaking suddenly, staring at him. "I see. Great. You would have told me about this 'technicality' in the divorce, but only because it would have been convenient while you were here. You came to meet Alicia."
"No," he told her.
"You liar," she accused him softly. "Get out—now."
"I didn't come here just to meet her."
"David, I'll call security if you don't leave."
He arched an eyebrow, fully aware that "security" at Moon Bay meant two retired cops who were happy to putter around the grounds at night in retooled golf carts. There had never been serious trouble at Moon Bay—until today. And then they hadn't bothered with security; they had called the sheriff's department immediately.
"David, get the hell out."
"Alex, will you listen to me—I think Alicia is dead."
An eerie feeling crept along her spine. How could she be jealous of a corpse?
But she had been jealous of Alicia. The woman was—or had been—a free spirit, intelligent, beautiful and filled with knowledge, curiosity and a love of dangerous pursuits that nearly equaled David's own.
Could she be dead? That would be terrible.
But it wasn't sinking in. At the moment, Alex felt betrayed. She had to admit, it had felt nice to have David following her as if he was desperate.
"Alex?" he said, and his tone seemed to slip under her skin, no matter how numb she was suddenly feeling.
Then he walked over to her, put his cup down, and his hands went to her shoulders again, the whole of his length far too familiar against her own, his eyes piercing hers in a way she remembered too well. "Damn it, Alex, believe this—I don't want you ending up dead, as well."
They were talking about life and death, and all she felt was the texture of his jacket, the heat emanating from him. She breathed him in and remembered the way his hands could move. He was almost on top of her, and she felt a physical change in herself, a tautness in her breasts, with way too much of her body pressed there against his.
She wanted to shove him away—hard.
She managed to get a hand between them and place it firmly on his chest, pushing him away from her, and slipped from the place where she had been flush against the counter.
'Talk, David. Do it quickly. I have a nine o'clock dive in the morning, which means I have to be at the docks at eight."
Her voice sounded tight and distant. She wasn't sure if it was the effect she wanted or not. She should have been concerned, she knew, about Alicia. She had known the woman, after all, even admired her. But she hadn't liked her.
But that didn't mean she would have wanted harm to come to her. So why wasn't she more emotionally distressed? She was just too numb, unable to accept the possibility.
"Alicia called me a few weeks ago. Do you remember Danny Fuller?"
"Of course. He came here frequently, and he was charming." He had been. An octogenarian, the man had been in on the earliest days of scuba diving and helped in the later development of some of the best equipment available. He had loved dolphins, and that had naturally endeared him to Alex. "Yes, I knew Daniel fairly well. I was very sorry to hear he died about a month ago, at a hospital in Miami. Of natural causes."
"I know."
'They were natural causes, right?"
"Yes. But Alicia was with him a lot at the end."
"I can see it—him dying, and Alicia quizzing him about everything he knew until he breathed his last breath," Alex murmured. She hesitated. Alicia Farr was—or had been, if any of this was true—everything that she had not been herself. She found herself remembering the woman and the times they had worked together. Alicia was the epitome of a pure adventuress, courageous beyond sanity, at times. She was also beautiful.
Even before the last year, she had frequently appeared at David's side on TV and in magazines. He, naturally, thought the world of her.
He'd slept with her, certainly. But before or after the divorce? Alex had never been certain.
That must be why she was feeling so icy cold now. Good God, she didn't want the woman to be dead, but still…
"It's probably true that she pursued him mercilessly," David admitted. "But he also sent for her, so I guess she was the one he wanted to talk to in the end. At any rate, soon after he died, she called me. She said she was on to the biggest find of the century, and that she wanted me with her. And something she discovered had to do with Moon Bay." He seemed to notice the way Alex was staring at him. "Actually, I had already been toying with the idea of coming here, so it sounded fine to me. She set a date, and said that she would meet me here. Whether she made that same arrangement with anyone else or not, I don't know. But when I tried to get back to her, to confirm, I couldn't reach her. Then, when I got here, she was a no-show. I figured she'd gone ahead to check things out. You know Alicia when she's got the bit between her teeth. I still thought she'd show, though. But I did notice that the place seemed to be crawling with a strange assortment of visitors, including Seth Granger, Hank Adamson and your new friend—John Seymore. And then…I heard that you'd found a body on the beach."
For several long moments, Alex just stared at him, not at all sure what to think, or where to start. She felt chilled. She had found a body, and it could have been Alicia's.
No. Easier to believe Jay had been right. That she'd seen someone playing a sick—and very convincing—trick on someone else.
"Maybe Alicia just decided that she didn't want you in on her fabulous find after all. Maybe she's already off on her expedition," Alex said, her voice sounding thin.
"And maybe someone else found out what she had and killed her to get it—or before she could set up an expedition to recover the treasure, so they could get it for themselves."
"If there was really a body, it's gone now," Alex said. "And Sheriff Thompson—"
"I've spoken with him. He hasn't seen Alicia, and your corpse hasn't reappeared."
"Then…then you don't really have anything," Alex said.
"What I have is a tremendous amount of fear that a friend and colleague is dead—and that someone may now be after you. Al
ex, maybe there's someone out there who thinks you saw something, and that could put you in danger."
Alex shook her head. "David, I'm not going to start being paranoid because of the things that might be. If Alicia is dead, and someone was willing to kill her for what she knew, wouldn't you be in far more danger than I am? What about your own safety?"
"I can handle myself."
"Great. Handle yourself doing what? Waiting? Watching people?"
"I have friends looking for information now."
She stared at him. He had friends, all right. P.I.s, cops, law enforcement from around the world. And he was serious.
A slight shiver raked along her spine. If all this was true…
"All right, David. I appreciate your concern for my welfare. And I'm very sorry if Alicia is…dead. I know what she meant to you."
"No, actually, you don't."
He walked up to her, angry again, and she tensed against the emotion that seemed to fill him, though he didn't touch her.
'There was never anything intimate between Alicia and me. She was a good friend. That's all."
She didn't look up at him as she raised her hands. "Whatever your relationship…was, it's none of my business. As I said, thanks for your concern. I'll be very careful. I'll keep my eyes open, and I swear, if I hear anything, I'll tell you. Now, may I please go to sleep? Or try, at least, to get some sleep?"
"I can't leave you."
"What?"
"I can't leave you. Don't you understand? If someone out there thinks you can prove that Alicia is dead, that you might have seen…something, you're in danger of being murdered yourself."
She shook her head. "David, my doors lock. Please go away."
They were both startled when his phone suddenly started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket, snapping it open. "Denham," he said briefly.
She saw him frowning. "Sorry, say again. I'm not getting a great signal here."
He glanced at Alex in apology and walked out back, opening the sliding door, stepping out.
She followed after a moment. He was on the porch rocker, deep in conversation. She hesitated, then shut and locked the glass door. She was going to try to get some sleep. But how? Her mind was spinning.
Before she could reach the hallway, she heard a pounding on the glass. Then David's voice. "Damn it, Alex, let me in!"
In the Dark Page 6
