by Leona Karr
Ashley’s legs were suddenly weak from fear and the horror of what might have happened. Trying to escape a burning boat miles from shore could have been deadly. Only Brad’s strong grip kept her on her feet. He pulled her with him as they ran to a nearby emergency box on a pole a short distance away.
“Officer Taylor from Greystone Island,” he barked into it. “Someone tried to torch my police cruiser at the pier. Couldn’t have set it more than minutes ago. Yes. Right now!”
He hung up and turned to Ashley. “The police chief is on his way. Go back to the restaurant. Stay around people until I come to get you.” Then he added quickly as a kind of reassurance, “It’s me they’re after.”
“But why?”
“I have a pretty good idea,” he added grimly but didn’t elaborate. Giving her shoulders a light push, he said, “Now go. I’ll keep my eye on you until you’re inside the restaurant.”
In less than five minutes, Minnequa Police Chief Al Hubbord and one of his deputies arrived. The three men made a quick search of the cruiser, but no other incendiary device was found.
“We’re not dealing with a professional firebug, that’s for sure,” Chief Hubbord commented. “But a jerry-rigged device can be just as deadly. Good thing you weren’t halfway to Greystone when it ignited.” He shoved a pair of glasses back on his large nose. “Got any idea who might have wanted to toast your cookies?”
“Several ideas,” Brad admitted, “but no proof—yet.”
Hubbord smiled. “I like the set of your jaw, Taylor. Let us know if we can do some legwork for you. My deputy dusted the cabinet for fingerprints and we’ll let you know if we got any clean ones that don’t belong to you or Deputy Hunskut.”
Brad replied, “We use the boat to transport prisoners to the mainland. Identifying all the fingerprints may be a challenge.”
Brad thanked him and watched them drive off. He knew there were a dozen places along the eastern coastline of Minnequa Island where a boat could anchor within walking distance of the long pier where the cruiser had been docked. Even at night, there was a lot of activity along the shoreline. He knew a search for any craft that might look familiar was a long shot. If someone had followed them from Greystone and planted the firebomb, he was pretty sure he’d recognize the boat. He strode a half mile in each direction without any luck
When he finally entered the restaurant, Ashley was sitting at a table near the windows. She must have seen him coming because her eyes were fixed on the doorway with a questioning look on her face.
As he slid into a chair opposite hers, she asked in an anxious voice, “What happened?”
“We checked out the cruiser. It’s clean. Only one device. I doubt if fingerprints will turn up anything, but we’ll see.” She waited for him to continue but there were too many loose threads to be connected before he was willing to share them with anyone.
“So that’s it,” he said shortly. “If you’re ready, we’ll head back.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it, as if she realized he was keeping his silence for some good reason.
He took her hand as they walked slowly down the pier to the police cruiser. He was grateful she didn’t pelt him with a lot of questions he couldn’t answer. He’d never known a woman who could act so bravely in such a circumstance. More and more, his feelings for her were threatening to spin out of control. He never begged a woman for anything, but he’d be willing to do it if he thought there was a chance she’d remain on the island with him.
She stood beside him as he started the engine and maneuvered the cruiser out into the open water. A whiteness in her face and a tightness around her mouth betrayed that she was half expecting the deck under her to suddenly explode into flames.
A protective surge made his voice husky as he reassured her quickly, “It’s safe, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart! The endearment startled him the instant it left his lips. He wasn’t in the habit of using that kind of familiarity with women. If she was equally surprised, she didn’t show it and stood closely beside him all the way back to Greystone.
After picking up the patrol car at the wharf and driving back to the Langdon compound, he saw her safely inside. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said softly. “I should have known better than to mix business with pleasure. No need for you to be dragged into something that happened years ago. Honestly, I never expected the woman I went to see would sound an alert that her secret was in jeopardy.”
“What secret?”
Instead of answering, he lightly brushed back wisps of hair trailing down on her forehead. The smooth touch of her skin and the warmth of her nearness as she lifted her face destroyed all his resolutions. He lowered his head and kissed her with a commanding possession that betrayed the intensity of his feelings. As his quickening tongue parted her lips, his hands splayed over her back, drawing her into the spiraling heat of his desire. She surrendered to his embrace and kisses with returned passion until he whispered, “You can’t leave.”
She turned her face away from his questing lips. As she pulled back from his embrace, she said, “This isn’t good for either of us.”
He started to argue, but common sense overrode his emotions. The events of the evening had left them both vulnerable, and in a way he was glad she had the sense to know it.
LATER THAT NIGHT, as Ashley lay wide awake staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, she wondered if the passion they’d felt was only a temporary release from a horror too real to handle alone. Understandably, the horrifying death threat had caused them to function at a high emotional pitch.
When she finally fell into restless sleep, subconscious fragments formed in dreamlike sequences. A threatening presence pursued her as she ran through a dense fog. When clawlike hands reached out of the mist and grabbed her, she cried aloud and jerked awake. She sat up, a pounding heartbeat in her ears and cold sweat covering her body.
Throwing back the covers, she went into the bathroom and bathed her face in cold water. As she stood looking in the mirror, her reflection made her a stranger to herself. Her eyes reflected a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. It was as if the hard shell of knowing exactly who she was and what she wanted out of life had somehow been damaged. She was falling in love, but would she make the biggest mistake of her life if she stayed on Greystone Island? A weird feeling was growing that the foggy island hated her. As she straightened her shoulders, she dismissed the impression as an understandable reaction to the unusual events that had engulfed her.
She glanced at her watch—nearly three-thirty. She needed to be at the hospital early enough to get Lorrie to the airport, but she doubted if she could readily get back to sleep.
“I might as well make use of the time by working on the inventory.”
Putting on a robe over her pajamas, she crossed the hall to the workroom. She’d just turned on the light and sat down at the makeshift desk when Nurse Nigel appeared in the doorway. She was in her nurse’s uniform, and a stethoscope hung around her neck.
The nurse’s face was flushed and her hands clenched tightly at her sides. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing? Playing some kind of sick game?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashley answered just as forcibly.
“Don’t pretend with me! Luckily Clayton was asleep when you did your macabre dance through the suite or he might have died in shock.”
Ashley swallowed hard in astonishment.
“You didn’t think I’d catch on, did you?”
“I don’t know what—”
“You had me going for a while but it won’t work,” she declared angrily. “You thought I’d be too spooked to figure it out.”
“Spooked?”
“Floating around in one of these old dresses. Making like a ghost.” She gave a derisive laugh.
Ashley began to make sense of her tirade.
“It’ll take more than that to scare me off,” the nurse said as she walked over to a rack of hanging dresses. “
Which one did you wear tonight? And where’s the blond wig?”
“It wasn’t me,” Ashley replied calmly.
“Save your lying breath!”
“I know what you saw and it wasn’t me.”
“Who in the hell was it? A ghost?” The nurse gave a derisive laugh. “Spare me the crock of lies, please. I don’t know what you and your sister’s game is, but it won’t work.”
Ashley responded as evenly as she could, “You are jumping to the wrong conclusion—”
“You just happen to be up at three o’clock in the morning.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I decided to work.”
“Really? It looks to me as if you just changed clothes. Did someone hire you to spook Clayton and give him a heart attack?”
Ashley got to her feet. “I know what you saw and I know you’re looking for an answer. The truth is, I’ve been searching for one myself.”
“Oh, really?” Her tone was mocking.
“A couple of nights ago I chased a fleeing figure through the house. I never got close enough to determine who it might be,” Ashley admitted and added, “The thought did occur to me that it could be you as well as anyone.”
“Me? Don’t be ridiculous.” The nurse seemed to be indignant to find herself in the role of the accused. “Why in God’s name would I do something so bizarre?”
“It’s just possible you’re trying to put the spotlight on me to cover up your own deceit.”
“And what deceit might that be?” she scoffed.
“I don’t know. Maybe your lover put you up to it? Paul Fontaine is your lover, isn’t he?”
“That’s none of your blasted business.”
“Maybe it is,” Ashley replied thoughtfully. “Especially if the two of you have some kind of hidden agenda.”
“You and your sister are the ones playing dangerous games.” Her tone was frigid. “You may not be as lucky as she was if you don’t mind your own business.” She threw out the warning like a live grenade, then turned and slammed the door behind her.
Ashley sat back down in the chair and stared at nothing for a long time. Then she let her eyes rove over the collection of garments hanging on racks or still sitting in open trunks. Boxes of hats and wigs remained to be inventoried. She’d been careful about unpacking more things than she could photograph, inventory, and box for shipping.
Anyone could have been removing complete outfits without her knowing it.
More than ever, she needed to get everything sent to the auction house as soon as possible. Taking a deep breath, she set to work with a renewed determination.
A few hours later, the rising sun warned her she’d better get herself ready to catch the ferry.
BRAD WAS already at the office at sunrise, pondering some unanswered questions involving Mary Sandrow. As far as he knew, no one else had shown any interest in Samantha Langdon’s old personal maid. She had only come to his attention because of his conviction that past Langdon tragedies might somehow be related. He’d been as surprised as anyone to discover that someone had been giving her cash to deposit into her bank account for a good many years. Why? If Mary was a blackmailer, why had she been safe from harm all these years and not silenced?
When he contacted her and set up a time to see her, she might have gotten scared and contacted someone who set the fire device on the cruiser in order to put a stop to his inquiry. He decided to ask Chief Hubbord to put a temporary surveillance on Mary Sandrow’s house and see who might turn up.
He glanced at his watch and swore. Damn. He knew that Ashley was catching the early ferry to the mainland, and he planned to give her a ride to the wharf.
He hurried out of the office and was about to get into the police car when he stopped short. There she was! Heading for the dock’s waiting area.
“You’re early,” he said as he caught up with her.
She looked a little surprised and startled. “A little, I guess.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t arrange to give you a ride down this morning.”
“No problem. I needed the walk…to clear my head.”
“I didn’t sleep very well myself,” he admitted. “I’m sorry if I was out of line last night. You have to believe, I didn’t intend to come on that strong but—”
“It’s not that,” she cut in quickly, obviously not wanting to talk about the heated hunger between them. “It’s something else. I had an early morning visit from Nurse Nigel.”
“Is it Clayton?” he asked quickly.
She shook her head. “No, not at all. Something else entirely.”
He listened as Ashley related the weird accusations the nurse had made. “She implied suspicion of Lorrie as well?”
Ashley nodded. “She asked who was paying us to scare Clayton enough to give him a heart attack. I accused her of having a hidden agenda for doing the dirty deed for herself and Paul Fontaine.”
Brad gave a low whistle. “Well, that should have stirred things up a bit. I guess I’d better get myself up there while you’re gone and look into it.”
The ferry sounded a warning for loading. Brad reached into his pocket and drew out keys to his personal car. He put them in her hand. “Drive mine today. It’ll be easier all around, getting to the hospital and airport. Don’t argue,” he said quickly as she opened her mouth to protest.
He knew he’d made a mistake when he impulsively leaned over and kissed her lightly. Instantly, the warmth of her soft mouth invited a lot more than a lingering touch.
The ferry whistle sounded again.
He slowly released her and both of them stood there looking at each other as if there were more to say but neither of them could find the words.
“I’ll meet the ferry this afternoon,” he promised. “And fix dinner.”
ASHLEY QUICKLY FOUND his car in the mainland’s ferry parking lot. She eased into the driver’s seat and sat there for a long moment, remembering how his large hands laid on the steering wheel and how his manly frame had filled the seat beside her. Even now the scent of his aftershave seemed to linger in the air.
She knew that if he’d been sitting beside her now, she would have welcomed his kisses and caresses. Did she really want to put herself through such an emotional wringer? Hadn’t she learned enough in the past by opening her heart up to someone? She’d be gone in a few days. And then what?
Lorrie was ready and waiting for her when she reached the hospital. Ashley gave her a hug and said, “You look ready to enjoy the California sunshine.”
“I called Ted and Amy this morning. They’ll meet the plane.”
“Are you sure you feel up to making the trip?”
“It’s a direct flight, and I’ll probably sleep most of the way.”
To Ashley’s relief, Lorrie chatted like her old self as they drove to the airport. Her sister didn’t seem to be particularly anxious about how the investigation was going, and Ashley avoided mentioning anything such as the attempt to set fire to the police boat. It was only when they were about to part at the airport gate that Ashley said she was going to have dinner with Officer Taylor.
Lorrie searched her face. “What is it, Ashley? You get a funny look when you mention his name. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that big hunk of masculinity?”
Unable to summon up a lighthearted denial, she answered honestly, “I don’t know, Sis.”
“You can’t be serious. Honey, you’re not the love-’em-and-leave-’em type.”
“I know it’s crazy.”
“You got that right! You’re a smart businesswoman with a future. Don’t get yourself into something that’s got no chance of ‘happily ever after’.” Lorrie shook a warning finger at her. “You deserve something better. You weren’t cut out to be somebody’s little homemaker. Don’t fool yourself.”
Her sister’s warning stayed with Ashley as she drove back to the wharf and parked Brad’s car. With time on her hands before the afternoon ferry departed, she walked a few blocks to the downtown district where colorfu
l shops and inviting boutiques drew her inside. She talked to some of the owners about her line of beaded purses and accessories and left her card with promises of sending a brochure of her latest catalog.
Ashley’s mind was filled with these possible new accounts as she returned to the wharf. Lorrie was right. For the first time since she arrived at Greystone, Ashley realized how much the life she’d made for herself meant to her. Becoming emotionally involved with any man who would expect her to give it up was out of the question. Still, there was no harm in enjoying his company for the next few days.
Brad was waiting for her when the ferry docked, and her determination to keep her emotions on an even keel was sabotaged from the very beginning. The way his dark eyes lit up when he saw her and the brush of his body against hers as they walked away from the pier sent all kinds of unbidden messages.
As they drove to his place, she indulged in a nervous babble about the prospect of gaining some new accounts along the mainland waterfront. She had never talked to him about her business, and once she started she couldn’t seem to stop.
“My California outlets may be just the beginning. With time, I ought to be able to find markets nationwide, and maybe even overseas.”
He listened politely, nodding and smiling. “Sounds as if you know where you want to go, alright. That’s half the battle, isn’t it?”
The way he said it brought her up short. She wanted to ask him what he meant, but the set lines in his face stopped her.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Nothing new. I’m doing some background checks on some possible leads.” He gave her a wry smile. “Can we put the investigation aside for a few hours and pretend I’m just hosting a successful businesswoman for the evening?”
“Perfect,” she agreed.
He let Rusty out and the dog bounded joyfully around their heels as they walked into the house through the back door. The kitchen was small, with ugly brown cupboards. No curtains hung at the half window and the only art on the mud-colored walls was a serviceable calendar. A plain set of salt and pepper shakers sat on the bare eating table.
