by Linda Howard
Drugs, maybe. Maybe the little tackle box was full of cocaine, instead of tackle. If he had a system set up, selling in the middle of the river would be safe; the water patrol couldn’t sneak up on him, and if they did approach, all he had to do was drop the evidence over the side. His most dangerous time would be before he got out on the water, while he could be caught carrying the stuff. That was why he never examined the parking lot when he returned; the evidence was gone. For all intents and purposes, he had just been enjoying a little fishing.
She had no hard evidence. Twice she had tried to follow him, but had lost him in the multitude of coves and islands. But if he was using one of her boats to either sell or transfer drugs, he was jeopardizing her business. Not only could the boat be confiscated, the publicity would be terrible for the marina. Boat owners would pull out of the slips they rented from her; there were enough marinas in the Guntersville area that they could always find another place to house their boats.
Both times Mercer had headed toward the same area, the island-dotted area around the Marshall County Park, where it was easy to lose sight of a boat. Evie knew every inch of the river; eventually she would be able to narrow down the choices and find him. She didn’t have any grandiose scheme to apprehend him, assuming he was doing something illegal. She didn’t even intend to get all that close to him; she carried a pair of powerful binoculars with her in the boat. All she wanted to do was satisfy her suspicions; if she was correct, then she would turn the matter over to the sheriff and let him work it out with the water patrol. That way, she would have protected both her reputation and the marina. She might still lose the boat, but she didn’t think the sheriff would confiscate it if she were the one who put him onto Mercer to begin with. All she wanted was to be certain in her own mind before she accused a man of something as serious as drug dealing.
The problem with following Mercer was that she never knew when to expect him; if she had customers in the marina, she couldn’t just drop everything and hop in a boat.
But she would handle that as the opportunity presented itself. Robert Cannon was something else entirely.
She didn’t want to handle him. She didn’t want anything to do with him—this man with his cold, intense eyes and clipped speech, this stranger, this Yankee. He made her feel like a rabbit facing a cobra: terrified, but fascinated at the same time. He tried to hide his ruthlessness behind smooth, cosmopolitan manners, but Evie had no doubts about the real nature of the man.
He wanted her. He intended to have her. And he wouldn’t care if he destroyed her in the taking.
She touched her wedding ring, turning it on her finger. Why couldn’t Matt have lived? So many years had passed without him, and she had survived, had gotten on with her life, but his death had irrevocably changed her. She was stronger, yes, but also set apart, isolated from other men who might have wanted to claim her. Other men had respected that distance; he wouldn’t.
Robert Cannon was a complication she couldn’t afford. At the very least, he would distract her at a time when she needed to be alert. At the worst, he would breach her defenses and take what he wanted, then leave without any thought for the emotional devastation he left behind. Evie shuddered at the thought. She had survived once; she wasn’t sure she could do it again.
Today, when he had put his hands on her waist and pulled her against his lean, hard body, she had been both shocked and virtually paralyzed by the exquisite pleasure of the contact. It had been so many years since she had felt that kind of joy that she had forgotten how enthralling, how potent, it was to feel hard male flesh against her. She had been startled by the heated strength of his hands and the subtle muskiness of his scent. She had been swamped by the sensations, by her memories. But her memories were old ones, of two young people who no longer existed. The hands holding her had been Matt’s; the eager, yearning kisses had been from Matt’s lips. Time had dulled those memories, the precious ones, but the image of Robert Cannon was sharp, almost painful, in its freshness.
The safest thing would be to ignore him, but that was the one thing she was sure he wouldn’t allow.
Robert strolled into the offices of PowerNet the next morning and introduced himself to the receptionist, a plump, astute woman in her thirties who immediately made a phone call and then personally escorted him to Landon Mercer’s office. He was in a savage mood, had been since he’d seen the wedding ring on Evie Shaw’s hand, but he gave the receptionist a gentle smile and thanked her, making her blush. He never took out his temper on innocents; in fact, his self-control was so great that the vast majority of his employees didn’t know he even had a temper. The few who knew otherwise had learned it the hard way.
Landon Mercer, however, was no innocent. He came swiftly out of his office to meet Robert halfway, heartily greeting him. “Mr. Cannon, what a surprise! No one let us know you were in Huntsville. We’re honored!”
“Hardly that,” Robert murmured as he shook hands with Mercer, deliberately modifying his grip to use very little strength. His mood deteriorated even further to find that Mercer was tall and good-looking, with thick blond hair and a very European sense of style. Expertly Robert assessed the cost of the Italian silk suit Mercer was wearing, and mentally he raised his eyebrows. The man had expensive tastes.
“Come in, come in,” Mercer urged, inviting Robert into his office. “Would you like coffee?”
“Please.” The acceptance of hospitality, Robert had found, often made subordinates relax a little. Landon Mercer would be edgy at his sudden appearance, anyway; it wouldn’t hurt to calm him down.
Mercer turned to his secretary, who was making herself very busy. “Trish, would you bring in two coffees, please?”
“Of course. How do you take yours, Mr. Cannon?”
“Black.”
They went on into Mercer’s office, and Robert took one of the comfortable visitors’ chairs, rather than automatically taking Mercer’s big chair behind the desk to show his authority. “I apologize for just dropping in on you without warning,” he said calmly. “I’m in the area on vacation and thought I’d take the opportunity to see the operation, since I’ve never personally been down here.”
“We’re pleased to have you anytime,” Mercer replied, still in that hearty tone of voice. “Vacation, you say? Strange place to take a vacation, especially in the middle of summer. The heat is murderous, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“Not so strange.” Robert could almost hear Mercer’s furiously churning, suspicious thoughts. Why was Robert here? Why now? Were they on to Mercer? If they were, why hadn’t he been arrested? Robert didn’t mind Mercer being suspicious; in fact, he was counting on it.
There was a light knock on the door; then Trish entered with two cups of steaming coffee. She passed Robert’s to him first, then gave the other cup to Mercer. “Thank you,” Robert said. Mercer didn’t bother with the courtesy.
“About your vacation?” Mercer prompted, when Trish had closed the door behind her.
Robert leaned back in the chair and indolently crossed his legs. He could feel Mercer sharply studying him and knew what he would see: a lean, elegantly dressed man with cool, slightly bored eyes, certainly nothing to alarm him, despite this unexpected visit. “I have a house on the lake in Guntersville,” he said in a lazy, slightly remote tone. It was a lie, but Mercer wouldn’t know that. “I bought it and some land several years ago. I’ve never been down here before, but I’ve let several of my executives use the place, and they’ve all returned with the usual exaggerated fishing stories. Even allowing for that, they’ve all been enthusiastic about coming back, so I thought I’d try out the fishing for myself.”
“I’ve heard it’s a good lake,” Mercer said politely, but the mental wheels were whirling faster than before.
“We’ll see.” Robert allowed himself a slight smile. “It seems like a nice, quiet place. Just what the doctor ordered.”
“Doctor?”
“High blood pressure. Stress.” Robert s
hrugged. “I feel fine, but the doctor insisted that I needed a long vacation, and this seemed like the perfect place to avoid stress.”
“That’s for sure,” Mercer said. Suspicion still lingered in his eyes, but now it was tempered with relief at the plausible explanation for Robert’s presence.
“I don’t know how long I’ll stay,” Robert continued in an indifferent tone. “I won’t be dropping in on you constantly, though. I’m supposed to forget about work for a while.”
“We’ll be glad to see you anytime, but you really should listen to your doctor,” Mercer urged. “Since you’re here, would you like a tour of the place? There isn’t much to see, of course, just a lot of programmers and their computers.”
Robert glanced at his watch, as if he had somewhere else to go. “I believe I have time, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“No, not at all.” Mercer was already on his feet, anxious to complete the tour and send Robert on his way.
Even if he hadn’t already known about Mercer, Robert thought, he would have disliked him; there was a slickness to him that was immediately off-putting. Mercer tried to disguise it with a glib, hearty attitude, but the man thought he was smarter than everyone else, and the contempt slipped through every so often. Did he treat Evie with the same attitude? Or was she, despite her relative lack of sophistication, cool and discerning enough that Mercer watched his step with her?
They were probably lovers, he thought, even though she was married. When had marital vows ever prevented anyone from straying, if they were so inclined? And why would a woman involved in espionage hesitate at cheating on her husband? Odd that her marital status hadn’t been included in the information he’d received on her, but then, why would it be, unless her husband was also involved? Evidently he wasn’t, but nevertheless, as soon as Robert had returned to his hotel room in Huntsville the afternoon before, he had called his own investigative people and asked for information concerning the man. He was coldly furious; he had never, under any circumstances, allowed himself to become involved with a married woman, and he wasn’t going to lower his standards now. But neither had he ever wanted another woman as violently as he wanted Evie Shaw, and knowing that he had to deprive himself made his temper very precarious.
Mercer was all smooth bonhomie as he escorted Robert through the offices, pointing out the various features and explaining the work in progress. Robert made use of the tour to gather information. Calling on his ability to totally concentrate on one thing at a time, he pushed Evie Shaw out of his mind and ruthlessly focused on the business at hand. PowerNet was housed in a long, one-story brick building. The company offices were in front, while the real work, the programming, was done in the back, with computer geniuses working their peculiar magic. Robert quietly noted the security setup and approved; there were surveillance cameras, and motion and thermal alarms. Access to the classified material could be gained only by a coded magnetic card, and the bearer still had to have the necessary security clearance. No paperwork or computer disks were allowed to leave the building. All work was logged in and placed in a secure vault when the programmers left for the day.
For Robert, the security measures made things simple; the only way the system could have been breached without detection was by someone in a position of authority, someone who had access to the vault: Landon Mercer.
He made a point of checking his watch several times during the tour, and as soon as it was completed, he said, “I’ve enjoyed this very much, but I’m supposed to meet with a contractor to do a few repairs on the house. Perhaps we could get together for a round of golf sometime.”
“Of course, anytime,” Mercer said. “Just call.”
Robert allowed himself a brief smile. “I’ll do that.”
He was satisfied with the visit; his intention hadn’t been to do any actual snooping but rather to let Mercer know he was in town and to see for himself the security measures at PowerNet. He had the security layout from the original specs, of course, but it was always best to check out the details and make certain nothing had been changed. He might have to slip into the building at night, but that wasn’t his primary plan, merely a possibility. Catching Mercer on-site with classified data didn’t prove anything; the trick was to catch him passing it to someone else. Let his presence make Mercer nervous. Nervous people made mistakes.
An envelope from his personal investigators was waiting for him at the desk when he returned to the hotel. Robert stepped into the empty elevator and opened the envelope as the car began moving upward. He quickly scanned the single sheet. The information was brief. Matt Shaw, Evie’s husband, had been killed in a car accident the day after their wedding, twelve years before.
He calmly slid the sheet back into the envelope, but a savage elation was rushing through him. She was a widow! She was available. And, though she didn’t know it yet, she was his for the taking.
Once in his hotel room, he picked up the phone and began making calls, sliding the chess pieces of intrigue into place.
Chapter Four
Evie stuck her head out the door. “Jason!” she bellowed at her fourteen-year-old nephew. “Stop horsing around. Now!”
“Aw, okay,” he grudgingly replied, and Evie pulled her head back inside, though she kept an eye on him, anyway. She adored the kid but never forgot that he was just a kid, with an attention span that leaped around like a flea and all the ungovernable energy and awkwardness that went with early adolescence. Her niece, Paige, was content to sit inside with her, in the air-conditioning, but a couple of Jason’s buddies had come by, and now they were out on the docks, clowning around. Evie expected any or all of the boys to fall into the water at any time.
“They’re so jerky,” Paige said with all the disdain a thirteen-year-old could muster, which was plenty.
Evie smiled at her. “They’ll improve with age.”
“They’d better,” Paige said ominously. She pulled her long, coltish legs up into the rocking chair and returned to the young-adult romance she was reading. She was a beautiful girl, Evie thought, studying the delicate lines of the young face, which still wore some of the innocence of childhood. Paige had dark hair, like her father, and a classic bone structure that would only improve with age. Jason was more outgoing than his sister, but then, Jason was more outgoing than just about everyone.
A boat idled into the marina and pulled up to the gas pumps. Evie went outside to take care of her customers, two young couples who had already spent too much time on the water, judging by their sunburns. After they had paid and left, she checked on Jason and his friends again, but for the time being they were ambling along one of the docks and refraining from any rough horseplay. Knowing teenage boys as she did, she didn’t expect that state of affairs to last long.
The day was another scorcher. She glanced up at the white sun in the cloudless sky; no chance of rain to cool things off. Though she had been outside for only a few minutes, she could already feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck as she opened the door to the office and stepped inside. How could the boys stand even being outside in this heat, much less doing anything as strenuous as their energetic clowning around?
She paused as she entered, momentarily blinded by the transition from bright sunlight into relative dimness. Paige was chatting with someone, her eager tone unusual in a girl who was normally quiet except with family members. Evie could see a man standing in front of the counter, but it was another minute before her vision cleared enough for her to make out his lean height and the width of his shoulders. She still couldn’t see his features clearly, but nevertheless a tiny alarm of recognition tingled through her, and she drew a controlled breath. “Mr. Cannon.”
“Hello.” His pale green gaze slipped downward, leisurely examined her legs, which were exposed today, because the heat had been so oppressive that she had worn shorts. The once-over made her feel uncomfortable, and she slipped behind the counter to ring up the gas sale and put the money in the cash drawer.
He ignored the distance in her tone. “I’ve brought my boat.” He paused. “You do still have an available slip?”
“Of course.” Business was business, Evie thought. She opened a drawer and pulled out a rental agreement. “If you’ll complete this, I’ll show you to your slip. When you were here the other day, did you see any particular location that you’d like?”
He glanced down at the sheet in his hand. “No, any one of them will do,” he absently replied as he rapidly read the agreement. It was straightforward and simple, stating the rental fee and outlining the rules. At the bottom of the sheet was a place for two signatures, his and hers. “Is there an extra copy?” he asked, the businessman in him balking at signing something without keeping a record of it.
She shrugged and pulled out an extra copy of the rental agreement, took the one he held from his hands and slipped a sheet of carbon paper between the two sheets. Briskly she stapled them together and handed them back to him. Controlling a smile, Robert swiftly filled out the form, giving his name and address and how long he intended to rent the slip. Then he signed at the bottom, returned the forms to her and pulled out his wallet. The small sign taped to the counter stated that the marina accepted all major credit cards, so he removed one and laid it on the counter.
