by Meryl Sawyer
Don’t let your anxiety show and make Chad more suspicious, she cautioned herself. What was important was to implement the plan she had to handle Chad Langston. It had been difficult to convince Warren that this would work, but he’d agreed to let her try. It was worth the chance, if she could avoid another relocation.
She was on the grass now, heading toward the beach. Zach emerged from the surf, water sluicing off his coat. He was happy here, too. If WITSEC forced her to relocate, Zach might not be allowed to go with her this time.
“Hello, there,” she called, carefully modulating her voice to keep anger out of her tone.
Chad turned toward her. He had on a pale blue T-shirt that read: Island Divers with a map of the islands underneath. His company, she presumed as she tried not to notice how the well-washed cotton fit snugly over the hard planes of his chest. Unconsciously her eyes dropped lower to the board shorts he wore low on his hips. The all-male bulge was outlined by the fabric.
She jerked her eyes back to his face, hoping the dim moonlight hadn’t revealed her close inspection of his ripped bod. He offered her a brash grin that said he’d noticed and women always adored him. With her next heartbeat, she reminded herself this wasn’t some GQ bod. This man was dangerous—especially to her.
She stopped at the edge of the grass. Zach bounded up to her, tail whipping the air, and dropped the stick at her feet.
“Hey, where’ve you been?” Chad walked up to her.
“Running around like crazy. We’ve got a big wedding right here this weekend. Remember?” Zach nuzzled her hand, and she petted his wet head.
“Hope you didn’t mind my taking Zach,” Chad said, his voice full of good-old-boy charm.
She had to remind herself this man was cleverer than he appeared. He might seem helpful, but he’d been investigating her.
“I’m glad you took Zach. It looks like he’s having fun. I didn’t think I would be so long,” she explained, hoping her breathlessness would be attributed to her walk down to the beach, not her apprehension at weaving yet another lie.
He stared at her a moment, his eyes a little hard to read in the moonlight. “I didn’t know what to feed him. Rory cooked him a steak.”
Great. She’d bought Zach as a puppy, and he’d always eaten kibble. This was his first steak. No doubt the big lummox adored it and would turn up his nose at the dry stuff now. Zach picked up the stick and plopped it at her feet.
“He loves retrieving in the surf,” Chad told her.
“He loves retrieving, period.” She picked up the sandy stick and heaved it toward the star studded sky. “Go, boy!”
Zach galloped across the sand and plunged into the surf. Her breath stalled in her throat. Could he see the stick? What if he kept swimming out to sea and drowned?
“Is it too dark for him to find it?” she asked Chad.
“No problem. There’s enough moonlight.”
He moved closer and she resisted the urge to back up. She kept her eyes on the ocean where Zach was swimming like a shark, head above the water, no splashing.
“See how the waves are sparkling?” Chad asked.
There was an intimate pitch to his voice that she deliberately ignored. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”
“According to island lore, when the water sparkles like that it’s the menehunes dancing on the waves.”
“Really?” She found island tales intriguing, part of what made Hawaii so unique. She wanted to settle here—if she could live through the trial.
Chad gazed down at her. Seeing her in the moonlight caused his pulse to lurch, jumpstarting his body. He forced himself to remember she was a liar, and he’d lured her out here for a reason.
“Have you eaten?” What he wanted to ask is why she’d lied, but he couldn’t without revealing he’d been checking on her.
She hesitated. “No, but I’ll catch—”
“I’ve got tons of food. You know how it is with a twenty-year old male in the house.”
“I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“No trouble. Besides it’ll give Rory time to wash down Zach and towel him off before he gets into your car.”
She laughed, but it sounded forced to Chad. He studied the full curve of her slightly parted lips. Aw, hell, did he ever want to kiss her, but he checked the impulse in time. This woman was trouble.
Devon watched Zach splash out of the surf, head held high. He pranced over to them, so proud of retrieving the stick that it made her smile.
“Good boy,” she told him.
The stick clamped firmly in his mouth, Zach shook hard. Droplets of water splattered both of them, and they shared a laugh.
“Come on,” Chad touched her arm and led her toward the house. Zach trotted along behind them.
Be careful of this woman, Chad thought. She’s the type men can’t resist. He had to admit that he not only found her attractive, but her aura of mystery added to her appeal. Most women were disappointingly easy to figure out. Not Devon.
“Rory,” Chad called when they were closer to the house.
“Yeah?” Rory poked his head out of a second story window.
“Would you wash down Zach while we eat?”
“Sure.”
Devon gazed at the fabulous house. Light poured from soaring glass windows that showcased vaulted ceilings rising two stories into the night sky. From here it appeared to be a small hotel. It certainly wasn’t like any home Devon had visited, even the pseudo-Tudor mansions Rutherford and Ames had built in Houston.
Rory ran down and called, “Come on, Zach. This way to the shower.”
From the furious wagging of Zach’s tail, Devon could tell the dog was crazy about Rory. They headed off toward the corner of the house where Devon assumed an outside shower was located.
“You ought to let Zach come here instead of leaving him in the office. Zach’s a young dog. He needs exercise. Rory will take of him.”
“Is Rory your son?”
He chuckled. “No. Rory’s father died in Desert Storm. Rob was a good friend of mine. When Rory became too much for his mother to handle, she let him move to Honolulu with me. He finished high school here and is now taking classes at UH.”
“And surfs.”
“Well, sure. This is Hawaii. Rory came from Indiana. He has a lot of catching up to do.”
They walked into the black and white high tech kitchen where Devon had used the telephone earlier in the day. Her entire apartment could fit in this kitchen, she thought. Above the island in the center of the kitchen was a very long surf-board.
Chad caught her staring upward and said, “It’s Duke’s long board.”
She nodded, vaguely aware of a legendary surfer named Duke. There had been so much she had tried to learn about Hawaii in just a short time that the name didn’t completely register.
“Surfing was a sport of Hawaiians going back to ancient times,” Chad told her as if he were reading her mind. “It was almost a lost art in the 1920s when America discovered Hawaii. Duke Kahanumoku was surfing off Waikiki at the time on that long board I bought. Tourists were fascinated by his ability to ride the waves. He became famous.”
“And surfing took off,” she added.
“You bet. Duke wouldn’t know the sport now,” he replied with a sentimental glance upward at the wooden long board. “Boards are shorter. Surfers are into big waves like the ones on the North Shore, not coasters like those on Waikiki.”
“Interesting,” she said, noticing his change of expression and not knowing what to make of it.
“Why don’t I have Rory swing by the office and pick up Zach after classes? He could return him to the office in time for him to go home with you.”
Pretty soon Zach would like Rory better than her, Devon decided with a pang of jealousy. Maybe it was for the best. If she had to run and leave Zach behind, she wanted him to have a good home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DEVON TRIED HARD to keep her reluctance out of her voice. “I’d be grate
ful if Rory could take care of Zach. I’d pay—”
“Forget paying Rory. I pay him to look after the house, which is a total no-brainer. He’ll take care of Zach for nothing. He’s crazy about the dog.”
This was exactly what she feared. She needed Zach in her life in a way she couldn’t explain to anyone who’d never been all alone in the world—except for a dog. Now that animal, who had no idea how much he meant to her, was about to be taken away by a young guy with surfing and babes and God-only-knew-what else on his mind.
Zach was all she had, but she needed to be willing to let him go—for his sake. If she had to run, or was killed, she wanted to know he was safe and loved.
“Steak or fish?” Chad asked.
She hadn’t noticed him approach the refrigerator. “Fish, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No problem. I have fresh opakapaka. Pink snapper native to the islands. Ever tried it?”
“No, but I’m game.” She tried to sound casual and friendly, but not too friendly. For her plan to work, she needed him to trust her. So far she hadn’t done anything but give him the cold shoulder. He’d be even more suspicious than he already was, if she did an abrupt about-face.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“The dishes are in the cabinet to the right of the sink. The silver is in the middle drawer. Set the table out on the terrace.”
She did as she was told, thankful to have something to do other than look at him. There was a small terrace off the kitchen with a round table and four chairs. From this angle Devon couldn’t see the pool, but there was a spectacular view of the sea and Diamond Head.
Chad brushed the barbecue grill with olive oil. “So the fish won’t stick,” he explained over his shoulder to Devon as she set the table. “If you’re not careful opakapaka falls apart.”
“I’ve seen it on menus, but I’ve never had it.”
“Do you eat out a lot?”
“No, not really.” She could have added that she couldn’t afford it, but she suspected Chad already knew she was broke.
Rory came around the corner with Zach. “He’s all clean, but I think I should blow him dry.”
“That isn’t necessary,” she said, but Rory was already headed inside.
“Let him,” Chad said. “It’ll keep him off the Internet for a while.”
Devon laughed. “Table’s set. What else can I do?”
He put on the fish and checked his wristwatch. “Five minutes per side should be just right. I’m sure we’ve got veggies.”
She followed him to a huge refrigerator. He swung the door open and she saw it was more than just well-stocked. It would have taken some major rearranging to wedge in anything else. She thought of the minifridge in her studio apartment. It was full, too, but it was loaded with yogurt and cottage cheese. Chad’s seemed to have lots of junk food.
He pulled open a lower compartment and took out a bag of broccoli. “You can see who does the shopping.”
“Rory.”
“Yeah. He would live on macaroni and cheese and frozen pizza, if I let him.”
She took the bag. “Let me wash this.”
“Good idea. I’ll get the wine.”
He disappeared down the short hall off the kitchen. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had a real wine cellar. After all, he could fit two hundred people in his living room. She rinsed the broccoli under the tap, wondering if she could pull this off.
“Far Niethe or Chalk Hill?” Chad asked from behind her.
“Either is fine.”
Being in his kitchen and preparing a meal had an intimate feel to it Devon hadn’t anticipated. What she was going to do made her ashamed of herself, but she had no choice. If she didn’t come up with a reasonable explanation to satisfy Chad, Warren would relocate her.
“Here’s a bowl for the broccoli.” Chad handed her a ceramic bowl with a lid.
His arm brushed hers. She heard her own quick intake of breath and instantly looked away, torn by conflicting emotions. Why did she have to be so attracted to a man who was dangerous to her?
“Why are blond jokes so short?” she asked, going for her old fallback, a joke to relieve tension.
“I give.”
“So men can remember them.”
Chad chuckled, a deep husky sound. Again she looked away, praying she could pull this off.
“Time to flip the fish,” he told her. “Zap the broccoli in the microwave. Two minutes max.”
“Yessir!” She saluted.
Chad smiled to himself. He doubted Devon was after the DARPA gadget. She’d been here all day. If she’d looked, she would have found it. In military mode now, well aware one man had died, he’d put the device in his safe. And he was watching his back.
A few minutes later, they were seated at the table. Chad poured them both a glass of the Far Niethe chardonnay. They ate in silence for a few minutes.
“You know what I find interesting about the menehunes?”
Devon’s question took him by surprise. Had she been here long enough to know much about the menehunes?
“I’ll bite. What?”
“They’re little people like the leprechauns in Ireland.”
“Is that right?” He’d heard of leprechauns, sure, but he wasn’t that familiar with Irish myths.
“Leprechauns and menehunes are pranksters. Imagine two islands halfway around the world from each other. Hawaiians couldn’t have known about Ireland’s ‘little people’ yet a lore evolved that’s surprisingly similar.”
“Interesting.” He drank a little wine, studying her. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d been here long enough to know much about the menehunes.”
She brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her cheek in a way he found incredibly provocative. “I couldn’t sleep one night. I went online and read several articles.”
“Not much you can’t find on the Internet.”
“So true. God bless the Internet.”
Chad saw Devon had almost finished her fish. Unless he missed his bet, she was going to plead a busy schedule and be out of here soon. Here goes nothing. “When you didn’t come back to work, I decided to go by your place and see if I could put Zach in your yard or something.”
“You didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” she said without a flicker of hesitation.
“The address on your application is Mailboxes in Paradise.”
She arched one delicate brow. “It is?”
Chad let her words linger in the balmy air. Damn she was good. Her expression was convincingly puzzled.
“I must have transposed a digit when I wrote it down.”
He honestly couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. He usually had a feel, a sixth sense about these things. Not this time, not with this woman.
“I don’t have a yard. It’s a tiny studio no bigger than this terrace. That’s why it’s so great to be able to take Zach to work with me.”
Interesting, Chad thought. She managed to casually toss some info at him without telling him where she lived.
“Did you have a bigger place in Chicago?” he asked, deciding not to press her and see what happened.
“There was a courtyard, but mostly I walked him. If I was having a busy day, I called Pawsabilities, and they walked him.”
It was odd really and quite disturbing, Devon thought. Lies fell from her lips with awesome ease. The lies would become second nature. Derek, her first handler, had assured her of this. The ability to blithely lie had finally kicked in.
Self-preservation.
If she didn’t lie, they would get her. And Rutherford and Ames would win. Her parents had taught her good triumphed over evil. Those two were not getting away with cheating the government and killing people.
“Do you have family back there?” he asked an assessing glint in his eyes.
“My parents are dead.” She might have said this a little too brightly because it was the truth. “My sister lives in Florida. She has a little girl,
Ariel, who is seven.”
She listened as he told her with obvious pride about his three sisters and their children. She could tell he sincerely loved them. It made her long even more to see her sister. She’d been very close to Tina even though they’d lived in different states. What she wouldn’t give to see Tina and Ariel.
When he finished, she stood up, saying, “Let me help you clear up. Then I’ve gotta run. Tomorrow will be crazy with all the last-minute details. You have no idea how hysterical brides can get.”
He didn’t say anything until they’d cleared the table. His piercing blue eyes leveled at her, he asked, “How long were you in Hawaii before you found a job?”
She’d been asked this question during the interview. She had told what Derek had called an “unnecessary lie.” The fewer lies you tell, the less likely you’ll get caught. He’d given her this advice many times, but an unnecessary lie had slipped from her lips. She could have blamed it on Chad’s distracting presence, but she didn’t. She was the one responsible.
Chad must know the truth from her DMV application. She had to handle this very carefully. She kept her voice level despite his inquisitive stare.
“I came here two months ago. I needed some downtime. I found an apartment I could afford and a car that runs most of the time. I just hung out, testing various beaches.”
“Which was your favorite?”
Boy oh boy, this guy simply never gave up.
“Punaluu. It’s not crowded and the swimming is fantastic,” she replied. She hadn’t really lazed her days away on the inviting sand. She’d familiarized herself with the island, keeping in mind that she’d had to run once. She might need to again.
“Why did you tell Eddie you’d only been here a month?”
She tried for a contrite look. “I didn’t want him to think I was a loser who’d been hunting for a job for weeks and weeks.”
His brows drew together. “Weren’t you offered a job at one of the big hotels?”
“I didn’t apply to any of the large resorts,” she replied truthfully.
“Why not? With your experience—”
