“Does he know that?”
“He will when we catch him.”
Doubt filled Shane’s eyes. “Your father has lived in Angel’s Bay his entire life. I can’t see him moving anywhere else.”
“His illness will only get worse. It’s the best solution.”
“For you or for him?”
“For both of us.” Her father might not like the idea of leaving Angel’s Bay, but it was the most practical decision. If she moved him closer to her she could take care of him, and perhaps her mother would help. His family was in San Francisco, and that’s where he should be.
Her dad hadn’t cared to be with his family the past thirteen years, but she was trying to look beyond that fact. And if the neighbors were right, and her father was rapidly losing touch with the world—would it really matter where he was?
Shane opened a compartment and pulled out a jacket. “You might want to put this on. It will get colder outside the bay.”
She accepted with a grateful nod, relieved with both the change in subject and the warm jacket. She’d left San Francisco straight from work, wearing a navy blue skirt, silk blouse, thin sweater, and high-heeled pumps that were perfect for her job but offered no protection against the elements. Shane’s big coat enveloped her like a warm hug, reminding her of the way she’d once felt in his arms.
She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind. “So, this is a nice boat,” she said into the increasingly awkward silence. “Is it yours? Or is it part of the Murray charter fleet?” Shane’s father had run a charter fishing business for as long as Lauren could remember.
“It’s mine. I picked it up last year when I came back,” he said shortly.
“Came back from where?”
“Everywhere,” he said with a vague wave. “Wherever there was water and fish and a boat to run.”
“Sounds like you got the life you always wanted.”
He shot her a look that she couldn’t begin to decipher. “Is that what it sounds like, Lauren?”
Her name rolled off his tongue like a silky caress. She’d always loved the way he’d said her name, as if she were the most important person in the world. But that wasn’t the way he’d said her name now. Now there was anger in the word, and God knew what else.
She sighed. “I don’t know what to say to you, Shane. I guess I never did.”
His gaze hardened. “You knew what to say, Lauren. You just wouldn’t say it.”
Thirteen years ago he’d wanted her to say that she believed in him, that she trusted him, that she knew in her heart that he hadn’t killed her sister.
All she’d been able to say was good-bye.
“I don’t want to talk about the past.” The words had barely left her lips when she found herself compelled to speak again. “You lied to me, Shane. I trusted you more than I’d ever trusted anyone, and you lied to me.”
He gave a little nod, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Yeah, I did.”
“And you’re still not going to tell me why, are you?”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about the past.”
She debated that. There were so many things she wanted Shane to explain, but what was the point?
“You’re right; it won’t change anything. In the end, Abby—Abby will still be gone.” A chill ran through her, and she glanced at the coastline. It was too dark to see the Ramsay house, where her sister had been found murdered, but she could feel its presence even if she couldn’t see it.
“Someone set fire to the house about nine months ago,” Shane said, following her gaze. “One wing was destroyed.”
“It’s too bad the house didn’t burn to the ground.” She’d never understood how her father could stay in Angel’s Bay, could wake up every day and see the house where her sister had spent the last violent minutes of her life. But there were a lot of things she couldn’t understand about her dad.
Lauren grabbed hold of the back of the captain’s seat as Shane increased their speed. On the open sea, waves slapped against the boat and the wind increased, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. Her nerves began to tingle with fear. She could handle being on the water when the day was sunny and bright and she could see the shoreline, but she’d never liked going out at night, or being hours away from land, where she’d be vulnerable, at the mercy of the unpredictable sea.
“Where is my father?” Panic made her voice rise. “I don’t see any lights. How are we going to find him out here? Maybe we should go back.” She hated being a coward, especially in front of Shane, who had never felt a fear he didn’t want to meet head on.
“Your father didn’t disappear. He’s just around the bluff.” Shane pointed to the GPS on his console. “See that dot—that’s him. We’ll catch up in a couple of minutes.”
“Okay. Good.” She gulped in a deep breath of air and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Are you scared of me?” Shane sent her a speculative look.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You seem nervous.”
“I just want to get this over with.”
A few minutes passed, then Shane said, “Your father loves this town. Do you really think you can drop in after all this time and sweep him away without an argument?”
“I have to do something. When I arrived at his house tonight, the stove was on. He could have burned the house down. And who knows where he’s headed now?” She shook her head in confusion. “This shouldn’t be happening. He’s only sixty-seven; he’s too young to be losing his mind.”
“Some days are worse than others,” Shane commented. “Other times, he’s the same as he always was.”
“You talk to my father?” she asked in surprise.
“He’s on his boat almost every day. Mort took his key away from him a while ago. I don’t know where he got another one.”
“My father doesn’t—” She broke off the question, realizing she was heading into dangerous territory.
“Blame me for Abby’s death?” Shane finished, a hard note in his voice. “Some days he does, some days he doesn’t. But he does blame me for your leaving and never coming back.”
“That wasn’t because of you.”
“Wasn’t it?” He tilted his head, giving her a considering look. “What’s making you so jumpy, Lauren? Don’t tell me it’s just the water. You don’t like being alone with me.”
“I got over you a long time ago. It was a teenage crush, that’s all. It’s not like I’m still attracted to you. I don’t think about you at all. I am way, way over you. I’ve moved on.”
“Are you done?” he asked when she finally ran out of steam.
“Yes.”
He eased up on the throttle so abruptly, she stumbled right into his arms. Her lips had barely parted in protest when his mouth came down on hers, hot, insistent, demanding the truth.
She should break it off, pull away . . . but God, he tasted good. She felt seventeen again, hot, needy, reckless, on the verge of something incredible and exciting and . . .
She had to stop. Finally, she found the strength to push him away. She stared at him in shock, her heart pounding, her breathing ragged.
He gave her a long look in return. “Yeah, I’m over you, too.” He put his hands back on the wheel.
Okay, so her body still had a thing for him. That didn’t mean her head or her heart intended to go along. Loving Shane had only gotten her a heart full of pain.
“I’m glad we’ve settled that,” she said sharply.
“Me too.”
A tense silence fell between them, and the air around them grew thicker, colder, and damp. Her hair started to curl and a fine sheen of moisture covered her face. As they rounded the point, a silvery mist surrounded them. Her father had often spoken of the angels that danced above the bay, that watched over and protected them. She’d believed him with the innocence of a child, but she’d lost her faith when Abby died. What kind of angel could let a fifteen-year-old girl be killed?
She felt
a wave of panic as the mist enveloped them in a chilling hug, and had to fight a powerful desire to fling herself back into Shane’s arms.
Why are you fighting? He’s the man you’ve always wanted.
The voice wasn’t in her head; it was on the wind. She certainly hadn’t said the words, because they weren’t true. She didn’t want Shane—not anymore.
A melodic laugh seemed to bounce off the waves, as if the ocean found her amusing. She shook her head, forcing the fanciful thought away. She didn’t believe in angels, or much of anything. Believing in someone always led to disappointment.
She let out a breath of relief as the fog lifted, and a beam of light danced off the waves ahead of them—her father’s boat.
Shane’s boat was moving faster now. They’d reach the Leonora within minutes. But then what? “How will we stop him?” she asked.
“We’ll pull up next to him. If he doesn’t stop on his own, one of us will have to jump onto his boat and take over.”
“Excuse me? Did you say one of us is going to jump between the boats while they’re moving?”
“It’s not that difficult.”
“Well, it won’t be me,” she declared.
“Then you can drive.”
She didn’t like that scenario, either. “I haven’t driven a boat in a long time.”
“You can do it. Take the wheel now. Get comfortable with it. I’ll see if I can get your dad on the radio.”
She gripped the wheel with tight hands as Shane tried to raise her father on the radio.
Nothing.
When they neared the Leonora, she could see her father standing inside the cabin. The door was closed and he seemed oblivious to their presence. Shane switched frequencies, and the sound of music blasted through. Her father had always loved opera—a strange passion for a simple fisherman, but he found some affinity between the music and the sea.
“I don’t think he can hear us,” Shane said. “Bring the boat as close as you can.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to drive it?”
“Just hold her steady, Lauren. I’ll jump onto your dad’s boat and drive him back. You can follow us.”
“You’re going to leave me alone on this boat—on the ocean?” It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to get into a situation she couldn’t control, and this was way out of her comfort zone. “I don’t think I can do this.”
He looked her straight in the eye. “You can.”
His words, his gaze, reminded her of a conversation from a lifetime ago when he’d handed her a helmet and taught her how to drive his motorcycle. He’d always pushed her beyond her limits, forced her to believe in herself.
“You want your father back or not?” he challenged.
She lifted her chin and drew in a deep breath. “You jump. I’ll drive.”
“Good. Don’t worry, I won’t let you out of my sight. It took me a long time to save enough cash to buy this boat. I don’t intend to lose it.”
“I’m touched by your sentiment.” While she was getting dreamy-eyed about their past, he was thinking only of his boat.
“Just stay close, Lauren. I don’t feel like going for a swim, even though I’m sure you’d enjoy tossing me into the sea.”
She bit down on her lip as Shane went to the side of the boat. She wasn’t worried about him, he could take care of himself. Fearlessness was part of his makeup. He wasn’t a man to sit on the sidelines and wait for someone else to take charge, and right now she was grateful for that.
Shane stepped over the rail, paused for a second, and then jumped, landing on the fishing platform on her father’s boat. He stumbled slightly, then straightened and yanked open the door to the cabin.
Her father finally turned his head. He exchanged a few words with Shane, then Shane took over at the wheel. A moment later his voice came over the radio. “Let’s go home, Lauren.”
His words brought a bittersweet rush of emotion. Angel’s Bay wasn’t her home now, and it never would be again.
It took about twenty minutes to get back to the marina. Shane kept in constant contact on the radio and Lauren stayed as close to her father’s boat as possible. She breathed a sigh of relief when she drove the boat into the slip. Shane came on board to tie the lines down while she joined her father, who was waiting for her on the dock.
His khaki pants and black windbreaker hung loosely on his thin frame. He’d lost weight in the years since she’d last seen him, and he’d aged quite a bit. His dark hair was all gray now, including the stubble on his cheeks. He stood with his shoulders hunched, but he didn’t seem concerned about his jaunt out to sea. She didn’t know if that was good or bad.
When he saw her his eyes widened with surprise, followed by what appeared to be teary emotion. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe she was there, and she felt a rush of guilt at all the years she’d let go by. This man was her father. He’d tucked her in at night, scared away the monsters under her bed, been there for her—well, some of the time.
Maybe they hadn’t shared a lot of common interests, but they were connected by blood, by love. How could she have let him go? How could she have forgotten what they were to each other?
“Hi, Dad,” she said softly.
“Abby.” He held out his arms. “My sweet, precious girl. You’ve come back to me at last. I’ve missed you so much.”
Lauren’s heart came to a crashing halt. “I’m Lauren, Dad. I’m not Abby. I’m Lauren,” she repeated, seeing disappointment and fear fill his eyes.
“What have you done with Abby?” he asked in confusion, his arms dropping to his sides. “What have you done with your sister?”
Suddenly it was easy to remember why she’d left, and why she’d stayed away so long.
TWO
“Our daughter will need her father, Colin.” Kara Lynch gently stroked her husband’s hand. His skin was cool, and she wondered if he could feel the chill of fall in the air—if he could feel anything. It had been three months since he had lapsed into a coma after being shot in the head. For those three months she’d talked to him, held his hand, kissed him, played him music, brought in friends and family, and put his hand on her pregnant belly, hoping that something would wake him up and bring him back to her. But Colin remained silent and motionless, his face a mask of calm.
Her gregarious, stubborn Irishman with the sun-kissed blond hair, bright green eyes, and big, generous heart was a ghost of his former self. Colin had always been big and sturdy, built like a football player. He was a natural-born protector and he’d loved being a police officer, keeping the town and the people he cared about safe. But that love had brought him to this, shot down in his patrol car by a madman.
Colin had lost twenty pounds in the past three months. His hair had darkened from the lack of sunlight, and she hadn’t seen his eyes open and alert since he’d waved good-bye to her before he’d left on patrol that night.
She felt him slipping further away from her every day, and she was desperate to bring him back. The doctors had warned her that his condition could be permanent, but that wasn’t a possibility she could accept. She was going to have a baby soon, and she couldn’t do that without him. This was the child they’d spent years trying to conceive. This was their miracle baby.
Kara drew in a sharp breath, worried that she’d already used up her one miracle. But she had to stay positive. Colin would expect that of her. He was the one who believed in the angels, the legends that had surrounded the town of Angel’s Bay since its inception a hundred and fifty years ago, when a ship named the Gabriella had gone down in a storm outside the bay.
The twenty-four survivors of that wreck had named the bay for their loved ones who had lost their lives, the angels who would forever watch over them and their descendants. Kara was descended from one of those survivors, and the baby she and Colin had created could trace her bloodline back to the original Murray family. If anyone deserved a miracle, it was her daughter, a child who would need her fath
er.
“You have to wake up, honey,” she said forcefully. “I know you’re tired, and you’ve been resting a long time. That’s okay, because if anyone deserved a break, it was you.” She pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. Colin had always worn his hair short, and he’d probably hate that she’d let it go so long. But his growing hair was one of the few things that reminded her that he was still alive, and some days she desperately needed that reminder.
“I miss you, Colin. I miss your arms around me, the way you laugh, even that awful smacking sound you make when you eat your cereal in the morning. I miss seeing you drink milk out of the carton, your clothes on the end of the bed, the way you hold on to me when you sleep, as if you can’t bear to let me go. I miss us.” She had to fight to hold back the tears. “I can’t do this alone. You’ve been my best friend since kindergarten. You said we’d always be together. You have to come back to me. Please.”
Not even the smallest flicker of his eyelid. Could he hear her? The doctors and nurses told her she should keep talking, but who really knew if Colin was listening? Maybe she was just talking to herself. She tried to push away the doubt, but she was tired, and that’s when the fear set in—when she wondered if he would ever wake up, or if she would spend the rest of her life talking to a man whose soul had long since departed.
Stretching her arms over her head, she let out a sigh. She should probably go home. It was almost nine o’clock and visiting hours were long over, not that anyone would kick her out. The people who ran the Bayview Care Center were kind and compassionate. Most of the patients at the long-term-care facility were elderly, but there was another woman down the hall who’d been comatose for almost five years after an automobile accident.
Kara didn’t like to think about her.
A knock came at the half-open door, and she was surprised to see her older brother, Shane, walk into the room. While everyone in her family had been supportive, their visits to the clinic had dwindled in recent weeks, and she couldn’t blame them. Despite her efforts to make Colin’s room bright and cheerful, it was still a sterile environment and the disturbing smells of bleach and sickness lingered in the air.
On Shadow Beach Page 2
