by Lori Wilde
We huddled on the cave floor, acclimating ourselves to our new environment. Conahegg continued to play the flashlight beam over the ceiling.
“Bats,” he said, pointing out the sleeping creatures to the kids.
Denny’s friend, Braxton, squealed in fear but Conahegg quickly reassured him that he was safe from them.
“How did they get in here?” I asked. “The bats don’t swim underwater.”
“There’s got to be an outside entrance, Aunt Ally,” Denny supplied and I felt proud of my smart nephew.
“That’s right,” Conahegg replied. “Probably a small hole farther inside the cave.”
“Can we explore?” one of the boys asked.
“No,” Conahegg’s voice was firm but kind. “It’s too dangerous without the proper equipment.”
Suddenly, I found myself thinking additional recalcitrant thoughts. Like what if it were Conahegg and I alone in the cave with an air mattress and a glass of wine? His body and mine entwined in the inky darkness, our inhibitions liberated by vino.
Knock if off, Ally. There are children present.
“Okay, troops, time to head back.”
It amazed me how they followed his command so completely. If their parents could see their sons, they wouldn’t believe the change.
Conahegg killed his flashlight. “On the count of three,” he said. We took a deep breath of the dank, musty air and dived into the water.
Seconds later, we broke through back into the pool, the kids grinning, filled with the excitement of adventure. I counted heads. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.
I counted again. Still only nine.
Apparently Conahegg was counting, too. His eyes met mine. “Who’s missing?” he asked.
“Denny.” I meant for my voice to sound calm, but it came out reed thin.
“Get the other kids ashore. I’ll find him.”
My heart was beating so hard my blood thundered through my ears. My brain spun horrifying images. I had to reach into the depths of myself and dredge up my nursing training to remain in control.
“Out of the water, boys,” I shouted, slapping my palms together. “Move it, move it.”
The gaiety of the moment instantly vanished. Faces solemn, the boys swam ashore, their gazes cast over their shoulder at the waterfall.
Dear Lord, I prayed, please let Denny be all right.
“Get your life jackets on,” I said, to keep them busy. I paced the banks and wrung my hands, I felt so utterly helpless.
Then, when I thought I’d never see either of them again, Conahegg broke through the water’s surface, Denny clutched in his arms.
Conahegg’s bare chest expanded like billows as he sucked in air. He swam for the shore, Denny cradled in the crook of his elbow.
My nephew’s face was far too pale and I could not see his chest rising and falling.
Dear God, please.
Conahegg reached the bank and passed Denny to me. I gathered him in my arms, then laid him out flat on the ground. He wasn’t breathing but he had a heartbeat. I started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
I felt as if I were standing outside my body, watching myself work on Denny. It was an eerie sensation, as if I had disconnected from the physical plane. I wondered if this was how Aunt Tessa felt when she channeled Ung.
In a matter of a few seconds Denny coughed up water and his eyes flew open. He inhaled sharply, then began to cry, his small nostrils flaring.
I hugged him to me and rocked him gently. The other boys, solemn little soldiers, stood silently around us. Conahegg lay on the ground, his body shaking from the effort of Denny’s rescue.
“What happened down there?” I croaked after a very long moment.
“His foot got tangled in some weeds,” Conahegg gasped. “He couldn’t get loose on his own.” He paused. “Luckily I had my knife and cut him free.”
“Yeah, but you lost that cool knife down there,” Denny murmured. “You oughta go back for it, Sam.”
“Water’s too murky,” Sam replied. “Besides, we need to get you home.”
I laughed nervously. “Who cares about an old knife? The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.”
I clenched my jaw. I could see the awful scene on the projector of my mind. The vicious slimy green weed wrapping around Denny’s ankle, pulling him down. Minutes before we’d been happy and laughing.
And I’d been having lustful thoughts about Conahegg. How could I have been so lackadaisical, so irresponsible? I knew how tenuous life was. Not only from my nursing experiences but from finding two dead bodies in the last two weeks. I’d recklessly dropped my guard and look what happened.
“You’re blaming yourself. Don’t,” Conahegg said, as if he could read my every thought. Did I give myself away so easily? He pulled himself to his feet and came over to me and Denny, drops of water running down his body. “I’m the senior officer in charge. I assume full responsibility.”
I shook my head. “It’s not your fault, either. It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.”
“No. I shouldn’t have taken the boys into the cave. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was too dangerous.”
“You were trying to teach them something. And I think they learned a valuable lesson. Right boys?” I found myself soothing Conahegg who ran an agitated hand through his wet hair. It stuck out in spikes at odd angles and made him look endearingly unguarded.
The kids nodded.
“Yeah,” Braxton said, “never go swimming alone.”
“And take your knife when you go inside an underwater cave,” volunteered another boy.
“Make sure you know CPR,” expounded a scrawny kid named Jake, who’d barely spoken two words on the entire trip.
“See,” I said, exonerating Conahegg. “No harm done.”
Denny was all right. In fact, he’d already broken free from my embrace and was swiping at his tears with the back of his arm. His friends circled around him, murmuring softly.
But I could tell from the look on Conahegg’s face that he had not forgiven himself.
I had to do something to make us both feel better. I reached over, wrapped my arms around his waist and gave him a tight hug.
At first he didn’t respond and when I began to worry that I’d made a mistake in touching him, he put his hand to my back.
We stood for a brief moment, taking comfort in our contact. He was so solid, so invincible. It was hard to believe he could feel as vulnerable as everyone else.
In that moment I stopped thinking of Conahegg as superhuman and started thinking of him as a real man with insecurities like the rest of us.
My change of perspective made me like him even more.
“Come on,” I said, stepping back. “It’s time we went home.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DENNY AND I DECIDED it was probably best not to worry Mama and Aunt Tessa with the details of what had transpired at the caves. It turned out to be a good decision. We arrived home at five-thirty Sunday afternoon to find Mama and Aunt Tessa in a tizzy.
No sooner had we pulled into the driveway than Aunt Tessa ran out to greet us, her face pulled taut with concern. She was fingering her crystal necklace and talking so fast we could scarcely understand her.
“Wait, slow down,” I said, getting out of the car. I felt headachy and water logged and I had sunburn on my shoulders and the tip of my nose. I had been so rattled by Denny’s accident, that I’d forgotten to reapply my sunscreen. “What’s the matter?”
“Your mother was so upset she took a Valium and went to bed.”
I held Aunt Tessa’s hand. “Calm down. Deep breaths.” Over my shoulder, I winked at Denny. “Do you feel like unloading the car?”
“Sure,” he said bravely but his skin remained pale beneath his freckles.
“People have been here,” Aunt Tessa said. “Really nasty people.”
I led her inside the house and gently pushed her onto the sofa, then I knelt at her feet.
De
nny trudged in behind us, hauling his backpack. I told him to go to his room and rest until supper. After his adventure-packed weekend, he didn’t even argue. His feet made heavy thudding sounds on the stairs.
When I was satisfied he was out of earshot, I returned my attention to Aunt Tessa. “What people?”
“They were friends of Rocky’s.” The sound of my mother’s voice drew my focus to the doorway. She wore a white flannel nightgown and her hair was loose around her shoulders.
“Here.” I held out my hand to her and settled her on the couch next to Aunt Tessa. I sat on the coffee table facing them. “All right, what happened?”
“Late last night, about one o’clock in the morning, a strange man came looking for Sissy.” Mama’s bottom lip trembled.
“He wasn’t very nice,” Aunt Tessa added.
“He was awful,” Mama corrected, lifting her hand to her face. “He cursed at us and worse.”
“Worse?” I swallowed hard.
“He said if he didn’t get his money our house might burn down,” Aunt Tessa said.
“What money?”
“He said Sissy had money that belonged to him. Do you know what’s he talking about, Ally?” Mama looked so worried, I wanted to take her into my arms and hold her tight against my chest. Who was the creep that had threatened my family? I fisted my hands. What had Sissy brought upon us?
“Did he say what his name was?” I asked.
Mama frowned. “I don’t remember, I was so scared. He had an ugly scar running from his eyebrow to his cheek and the coldest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“He had an odd name,” Aunt Tessa supplied. “Something like Dugan Marcher.”
“Dooley Marchand?”
Aunt Tessa snapped her fingers. “That’s it!”
Oh, boy. I let out my breath.
“He said he was a friend of Rocky’s,” Mama said. “I told him we didn’t know anything about it but then he…he…” Tears sprang to my mother’s eyes.
“What did he do?” I was afraid to ask but unable to resist.
“He broke the Rainbow Monks I made for Tim’s memorial.” Mama dissolved into full-fledged sobs. Aunt Tessa reached in her pocket for a clean tissue and passed it over to Mama. “Busted every one of them into little bitty pieces.”
“I’m calling Conahegg.” I started to my feet, but Aunt Tessa put out a hand.
“Wait. There’s more.”
“More?” Jeez, I didn’t want to hear any more. I didn’t know if Rocky had been murdered or not, but something very weird was going on. Something I feared my younger sister was involved in right up to her pretty neck. Where had she gone? Was she safe? Or was she lying unconscious in a ditch somewhere?
“A woman claiming to be Rocky’s wife came by the house.”
“Darlene?”
“Chain-smoking, bleached blonde?”
“That’s her. What did she want?”
“Well,” Aunt Tessa continued. “She claimed she wanted a past life reading.”
“Did you give her one?”
“Yes. I even gave her a pair of crystal earrings. I went into a trance and Ung took over but while I was out, the nosy woman gets up and leaves the reading.”
“I found her going through Sissy’s room,” Mama chimed in. “When I asked her what she was doing, she wanted to know what Sissy had done with Rocky’s money.”
Where had Rocky acquired the money everyone was so anxious to get their hands on? And where was it now? I had a sneaking suspicion the money was in the same place as my sister. Wherever that might be.
“And—” Aunt Tessa sniffed “—she left without paying me for the reading or the earrings.”
“Have you heard from Sissy?” I asked.
“No,” Mama said. “Where do you think she’s gone?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I’m calling the sheriff.” I got my purse out of the car, dug around for the business card Conahegg had given me, then called him at home. After four rings, the answering machine picked up.
“Conahegg,” his automated voice said. “Leave your message.”
“Um…Sheriff…”
I heard a click when he picked up. “Ally?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Sissy,” I told him. “She’s in worse trouble than I thought.”
MY ANGER OVER Dooley Marchand and Darlene Hughes terrorizing my family combined with my concern for Sissy’s welfare, rendered me into a frazzled ball of nerves. Restless as a pregnant mom three weeks past her due date, I paced the kitchen until Mama and Aunt Tessa banished me outside where I paced the dock and repeatedly glanced at my watch.
Where was Conahegg?
The sun was strolling down the horizon in a burst of splendid color when his patrol car finally pulled into the driveway.
“We could have been dismembered by a serial killer in the time you took to get here,” I greeted him when he stepped from the Crown Vic.
He didn’t apologize. “You’re upset,” he said.
“Damn right I’m upset.”
“Calm down, Ally.” He reached out and took my elbow. “I’m here.”
I wanted to snap, whoop-dee-doo, but his presence did have a soothing effect on me and I wasn’t sure I liked admitting that. Gently, he nudged me toward the dock.
“Let’s sit down and watch the sunset.”
I balked. I didn’t want to sit down. I wanted arrests. I wanted heads to roll. I wanted justice. I wanted Conahegg to stop looking at me as if indulging a wayward child.
How could he be so composed, so complacent? My family had been threatened. My sister was in grave trouble.
“I don’t want to sit down, I want you to do something.”
“Not until we’ve talked. No problem is ever solved by going off half-cocked. You’re still shaken from what happened to Denny. You’ve had a pretty rough couple of weeks. Now sit, Allegheny, and watch the damned sunset.”
He guided me into the redwood love seat then eased down beside me. One minute he was stern, the next minute tender. Maybe it was what I needed.
I sat stiff as a department store mannequin and then to my horror, I burst into tears.
Conahegg slid his arm around me. “There, there. Let it out. You’ll feel better. You’ve been holding it in for too long.”
His masculine scent curled inside my nostrils. I could feel the crispness of his shirtsleeve against my cheek. Turning, I buried myself against his chest and sobbed.
Slowly, he drew me into his lap, held me the way my father used to. For the first time since my father’s death I had someone to turn to. Someone to share my burdens with. That made me cry even harder. Weeping for the fourteen-year-old girl who’d assumed so much responsibility at such a tender age.
Conahegg knew none of this about me and yet he seemed to understand. I surrendered myself to his protectiveness. My actions were completely out of character. I was supposed to be the strong one. The comforter. But somewhere along the line I’d run out of energy. I couldn’t fight the temptation to let him take care of me any longer. I wanted it. I needed it. I hated my weakness but there it was.
He stroked my head and held me tightly until the tears played out. From his back pocket he produced a clean handkerchief and dabbed at my eyes. “Feel better?”
I nodded, although what I really felt was foolish. How had I let myself get so worked up? So what if I’d found two dead bodies in two weeks. So what if my sister was being chased by loan sharks and parolee ex-wives? So what if my nephew had almost drowned? I was Allegheny Green, caretaker extraordinaire. I did not break down.
“Stop thinking,” Conahegg commanded. “I can look into your eyes and see your mind whirling a mile a minute. Try and relax, Ally. Feel the breeze on your skin. Let go. Just for a little while. Soon enough you can slip back into Zena Warrior Princess mode.”
I took a deep breath, caught a fresh whiff of his scent.
God, he smelled so good. Manly and clean. Sw
eet and very sexy. Idly, I stared at a button on his shirt and wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled.
My gaze traveled upward. One button, two button, top button unbuttoned. Tanned muscular neck. Chin you could bounce a quarter off of. Lips. Full and firm.
Slate-gray eyes that caught mine.
I ran my tongue along the inside of my mouth, imagined I was running it along his lips.
What was I thinking? I couldn’t kiss Conahegg.
Why not? chimed the little voice at the back of my head.
Why not indeed? Because he posed the very real potential of breaking my heart?
He brushed my hair back from my face with one hand, and slipped the other hand to the nape of my neck where he massaged my muscles with his thumb and index finger.
I sighed—almost purred, actually—and relaxed against his forearm. I felt as if I were melting into him.
Mmm, melting like chocolate. Warm and smooth and shivery.
Wait a minute, Ally, my conscience kicked in. What are you doing? Get away from him. Go find Sissy.
Like a splash of cold water in the face, I came back to reality. I tried to shift away from Conahegg but he held me tightly on his lap.
“Th…thanks,” I mumbled and ducked my head. “I guess I needed a good cry. You were nice to indulge me.”
He took a finger, tipped my chin up, forced me to look into his face. He smiled tolerantly, as if he knew a great secret. As if he knew something very important that I should know but didn’t.
His expression annoyed me. What gave him the right to be so smug? To be so damned good-looking? I felt far too hot and uncomfortable clutched in his arms on my dock.
I turned my head and tried to push myself away but Conahegg didn’t seem to realize I wanted free. He kept staring into my eyes and smiling like a silly lunatic. A bizarre sensation, something akin to panic or fear, swept through me.
“I’m okay,” I said, hoping to assure him that if he let me go I wouldn’t unravel at his feet. “Thanks for being here when I needed a shoulder to cry on.”
I wanted him to realize that I would have broken down to anyone who’d been willing to pose as a watershed for my tears, that his presence had merely been coincidental. That my letting loose on him wasn’t personal. In fact, a sponge could have done his job. Sit silently and absorb moisture.
