But it meant nothing, she instantly reminded herself. Nothing more than an attempt to reassure her--though an attempt that could have led to treacherous consequences. Neither of them, she was certain, had bargained for that.
Locking the door, she hurried back to the lodge, retrieved Toby, and headed out. Soon they were striding through the long stretch of forest above the beach. The early afternoon sun was slowly inching its way westward, filtering slanting rays through the treetops. Toby ran eagerly ahead on a long leash, ears flopping as he stopped to sniff at a clump of bracken ferns or to lunge at a grey digger squirrel.
At length, she sat down on a log to rest while Toby lapped at a puddle of rainwater that had filled a rut in the trail. She inhaled deeply the earthy smells of damp humus and lush vegetation. Mottled sunlight filtered in through the trees and tiny yellow wildflowers poked out everywhere.
Yes, she could understand why Lowell had come back to the island to heal himself--even if she didn't fully understand the reason why. She, too, had spent far too long in the crowded city, breathing the fumes of the ever-increasing traffic, setting her alarm clock a little earlier each morning to brave the traffic snarls on the interstate freeway.
Even though she must go back--her work at the university gave her life purpose--she silently vowed she'd never sever her ties here. Her family had left her a priceless legacy, this treasure chest of pristine, unspoiled beauty coupled with the precious memories of her childhood and family. But what if now she was truly alone? What if her father was dead too? Unbidden, a tear slipped down her cheek.
“Nessie?” The sound cut through her thoughts, giving her a start.
She looked up and saw Lowell staring down at her. Her heart lurched. “You're back! Finally!”
“Ruby said you and Toby went this way,” he said. He sat down beside her--dangerously close--and patted the top of the dog's head. “Hi, there Toby, old boy. You and Vanessa getting to know each other, eh?”
With soft liquid eyes, tail thumping, the dog looked up at Lowell and gave a yip.
Vanessa and Lowell laughed in unison--yet his laughter failed to touch his eyes. He turned back and gave her a long, hard look. “Ruby also said you wanted to talk to me.”
“Did she tell you why?”
“Uh-huh.” He paused. “And Ruby also had some concerns of her own.
“Yes, I know.” She lifted one shoulder. “So what do you think?”
He shook his head and stared down at the ground. “It's hard to say. A lot of folks fight about money. Buckler and Dolly aren't alone when it comes to that. Money problems account for a good share of the call-outs I get involving domestic disputes--that and the notorious love triangle situations. It most likely means nothing...”
“I suppose not. But it does worry Ruby.”
“Yes, I realize that. And I don't like to see her worry either. I tried to point out to her that there's no evidence Buckler and his cohorts are doing anything illegal. And as you well know, in a court of law, a man's innocent until proved otherwise.”
“Right.” She picked up a twig and snapped it into three even pieces. “But I also know I don't care one bit for Josh Buckler.” She told him about the way he'd treated her and Matt's attempts to ward him off. “In my opinion, Josh is nothing but low life. A real scum ball, to say the least.”
His nostrils flared with indignation. “Good thing I wasn't there at the time! I would've told Buckler in no certain terms exactly where to go--and maybe much worse. He had no business laying his hands on you, Vanessa. No business at all!”
“Don't worry. I wasn't about to let myself get in a tight spot. And right now, Josh is the least of my problems.” Waving one hand in the air as she talked, she went on to tell him about her brief stopover at the bait shop, and what the waitress had said about her father. “Who do you think could've been at Northshore that morning with Dad?” she asked.
A frown marred his handsome features. “Eldon never mentioned he planned to meet anyone there. As far as I knew, it was supposed to have been just him and me. But don't forget...most of the fishermen on this island have known each other for years.”
“True enough. And Dad certainly did have a parcel of friends. But if he and this man were arguing--as Sally seemed to think--they certainly weren't on friendly terms right then.” A chill tremored through her. “And why were they discussing the overseas black market?”
Lowell laced his fingers together, working them in and out before he spoke. “I don't know. But if there's any truth to it, I intend to find out--and I may have my chance this coming Saturday.”
“Oh?”
“That's right. When I spoke with the sheriff a little while ago, he gave me a name of an agent from the Fish and Wildlife services on the mainland that might be of some help. I phoned the agent immediately and made an appointment to meet with him this weekend. His headquarters are on the east side of Seattle.”
“Can I come too?” she asked.
He eyed her thoughtfully. “You can come with me for the ride, if you like, but when it’s time to meet with the agent, that’s something I should do alone.”
Pushing back a stab of disappointment, she asked. “But why this Saturday? Why can't you meet with him today? Dad's life is at stake! Don't the law enforcement officials realize that?”
Lowell turned to face her, his dark blue eyes beseeching. “Nessie. It's been well over a week since your father disappeared...”
“So you're ready to write him off? Just like that?”
“I didn't say that. I'm simply trying to point out that Eldon's chances of being found alive are getting slimmer with each passing day--even if he has been taken ransom.”
“No,” she said tightly, battling against her own ambivalence. “I just don't buy that. And if you really believe it yourself, then tell me something. Why did you bother to arrange a meeting with the wildlife agent in the first place? Why bother with any of this?”
His jaw twitched. “We have no choice but to consider foul play. And if it's true someone killed Eldon, I want to know who. Justice must be served. That's my job, Vanessa. That's what I've been trained to do.”
Foul play. Justice. Anger boiled up inside of her. No matter that Clinton had already considered that, and Lowell had agreed it was a possibility. Right now it seemed as if only Lowell was capable of such cold, calculating thoughts.
“Is that the only reason you want to know what happened to my father?” she shot back. “To satisfy your inquiring mind? To congratulate yourself for another job well done?”
Hurt mingled with despair flashed in his eyes. He jerked his gaze away. A stony silence fell between them.
“I'm sorry,” she breathed. Her face burned with shame. “I...I didn't mean that...” She balled her hands into fists, overwhelmingly confused. What did she want from him? Something more than what he could offer her as an officer of the law?
He turned back to her and met her gaze. “Apology accepted.” He chewed on his lower lip, then added. “I wish I had more answers, Vanessa. Help take away some of your pain. But the bottom line is, we can't afford to sit around just wishing.”
* * *
The remainder of the week, Vanessa tried to ward off the chill that seized her every time she reflected back to that conversation with Lowell. Though she couldn't fully accept his prediction about her father's demise, she also couldn't ignore the truth underscoring it. No one had proved, so far, that Eldon's disappearance hadn't involved foul play. And while she and Lowell had continued their search, scouring every shoreline, inlet, and cove, they also had found nothing.
Friday morning Vanessa awoke, her nerves brittle with anticipation. In only twenty-four hours, Lowell would be on his way to the mainland to talk to the wildlife agent. Perhaps this would be the break-through they'd been waiting for.
She showered, dressed quickly, and forced herself to eat a small breakfast in the family headquarters, then stole a few moments to wander alone down to the dock. Rays of sunshine bathed
her in dewy warmth as she strolled onto the pier. The Sound appeared as placid and smooth as a mirror. Small sea birds skittered about pecking at the sand. Yet how could the world seem so at peace when her father still hadn't been found?
Farther out, about a dozen vacationers were seated on the deck of the charter boat, their voices rising and falling with eager expectation as Clinton prepared to cast off. A young mother with a toddler in tow hurried down the dock waving and calling out, apparently eager to relay a last-minute message to a couple of men on board.
Normal people. Doing normal, everyday things. Vanessa gave a quick shake of her head, yearning for a return to her own normal life...yet, she realized once again with sharpening clarity, life for her might never be the same again. No, never.
“We'll be back here by sundown,” Clinton hollered to Vanessa. “And oh, there's something I forgot to tell Ruby. The group checking in this afternoon from Bellingham--a family of four by the name of Zussman--they called yesterday to tell us they might be late. Don't let her give their unit away.”
Vanessa nodded and called back to him. “I'll let her know.”
Clinton would be doubling the number of excursions this weekend, Vanessa knew. The Fourth of July crowds had flocked to the island this year in greater numbers than ever.
Clinton fired up the boat and its sudden rumble sliced through her thoughts. She watched it pull away from the dock, chug into the bay, and disappear beyond a tiny island.
Suddenly she spotted Lowell emerge from the sailboat and thread his way down the dock, his stride energetic, purposeful. He was wearing a striped blue-and-white polo shirt and casual white slacks--colors that contrasted the healthy glow of his sun tanned face. As he drew closer, a new rush of desire swept through her. Inhaling deeply and silently counting to ten, she struggled to regain control. Her anxious feelings were only skyrocketing. But what was it she really feared? she asked herself. Lowell himself or the way he affected her?
Try as she might, she could no longer deny the truth. She was teetering on a perilous edge, allowing her heart to rule her head.
* * *
Lowell grinned, lifting a hand in acknowledgment. “My, you're out bright and early this morning.”
“I was watching Clinton leave.”
His smile quickly faded as his penetrating gaze moved over her. She appeared exhausted, completely done in. There were dark circles under her eyes, a pallor to her skin. Yet somehow that still didn't detract from her beauty, he decided. No, Vanessa was definitely a looker--and it made him want to take care of her all the more. He'd have to do something to get her mind off Eldon. He'd have to think of something fast.
“You don't look as if you slept well,” he said, briefly touching her elbow.
“There's too much on my mind.” She smiled--a little too hesitantly, he thought. “But I'm okay. Just fine. I can get along without much sleep.”
He paused, tracing one finger down her cheek. “I can't let you get worn to a frazzle over all this.”
“Don't worry about me. “
His gaze never faltered from hers. “Why not? I'm practically family, you know.”
She tipped up her chin, moving one step back. His nearness was too commanding. And his sharp, probing gaze, much too unnerving. “And that means you're still thinking about Andy and Dad? That you owe it to them to take care of me?”
“Maybe.”
“I said it before, Lowell, and I'll say it again. I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself.”
He ignored her protests as a plan flashed in his mind. Back in high school, he and Andy had given in and finally let the little pest come with them to the old Boy Scout camp on Iffleman island. And when all was said and done, he knew that day had been special to her, though he still couldn't be sure why. Hell, maybe it was because when they'd been kidding around, he'd gone a little crazy and kissed her. Whatever...it really hadn't been any big deal to him--though beforehand, he had wondered what she'd do if he should try it.
“Remember that time, Nessie, when you, Andy and I took one of the lodge motor boats to Iffleman Island? It was the end of the summer--a few months after Andy and I'd graduated, I believe--and the last campers had left. No one was around, and we had the whole place to ourselves.”
“Yes,” she replied, quirking a brow.
“And remember, too, how we fished at that pond in the middle of the island, swung from the old rope swing, then spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach building a gigantic sandcastle. We always said the three of us made a terrific team.”
“That we did...”
“Too bad we never got around to entering the annual sandcastle contest on the mainland. I'm sure we would've come away with at least one prize.”
* * *
With alarming alacrity, the picture took shape in Vanessa's mind, a picture of that magical, golden summer's day when the world had been bright and filled with promise.
For once, Andy had given in to her begging that she go along too. And that evening, while a flaming sun sank below the jagged horizon, Lowell had scooped her up in his arms, sprinted down the beach while she'd kicked and hollered, pretending she wanted to be let down.
When he'd finally released her onto the warm, moist sand, he'd stared straight into her eyes and grinned at her with boyish devilment. Then they'd shared a tentative kiss--and at that very moment, she knew she'd fallen in love with him. But suddenly Andy had called to them, and the spell had been broken.
She yearned to admit to Lowell that for as long as she lived, nothing short of a coma could cause her to forget that day. But she didn't dare. She mustn't allow him to suspect how many times these past years she'd reached back for the memory and turned it over in her mind like a delicate, priceless heirloom.
She hesitated, meeting his gaze. “So what has this to do with anything?”
“Let's take the afternoon off and sail back there,” he answered, eagerness tingeing his voice. “For old time's sake, Nessie.”
“Old time's sake?” she parroted, darting him a look. Could Lowell be remembering too? If so, it had to be in a totally male sort of way. To Lowell, the memories undoubtedly centered on how well the fish had been biting that day, and the dare-devil thrill of swooping through the air from a rope that had nearly frayed in two.
“It's obvious you need a little R&R,” he insisted, “and I've been itching to see how Sea Breeze handles in a good stiff wind. Besides, Clinton says, now that the deck's done, I owe myself a little time for sailing.” He took her hand in his, gently stroking her palm with his thumb.
She wrestled with her rollercoaster feelings. Granted, they'd probably spent nearly a dozen afternoons alone looking for Eldon--but none of their trips had taken them to Iffleman Island.
Returning there would only conjure up too many old feelings, forcing her to face the reality that if she were to fall in love with him again, this time it would involve much more than an adolescent infatuation.
“I'm sorry. I can't go,” she answered at last.
“What do you mean you can't go?”
She chewed on her lower lip, floundering for a plausible excuse. “The only time I can justify leaving the lodge is when I'm looking for Dad. It's not right for me to be off sailing somewhere...having a good time...not now.”
“You're wrong. Eldon would agree with me too. He wouldn't hear of that kind of talk. Besides, we'll only be gone a few hours. All I'm asking you is to share one pleasant afternoon with me, Vanessa. Nothing more, I swear.”
She opened her mouth to refuse again, but this time the words caught in her throat. His blond hair reflected glimmers of morning sunlight, making him appear so vital and alive. He inclined his head and allowed a lazy smile to flicker at the corners of his too gorgeous mouth.
“So?” He waited for her reply.
Smiling back, she nodded. “All right. Just for the afternoon.” Somehow her resistance had vanished like a snowflake in hot water.
Chapter Seven
The wi
nd tangled Vanessa's hair and snapped her navy blue jacket as the Sea Breeze puttered out from Kaloch Bay.
Once they were into the Strait of Georgia, well beyond the peninsula and North Jetty where they'd searched for Eldon, Lowell, who was standing at the helm, switched off the motor. “Now that we're in the wide open spaces, sailing should be perfect,” he announced, still standing at the helm.
She slanted him a sidelong glance. The sight of his well-chiseled profile, the gentle curve of his mouth made her pulse race. Maybe it wasn't right...setting him up the way she had...but he'd agreed more readily than she'd expected and it'd been worth the trade-off. And as for now, she might as well enjoy herself.
“I thought we'd never get past all those boats filling up the bay,” she told him. Behind them, their widening wake cut through the Sound while the gray-green waters turned to a darker blue. “How fast are we moving?”
“Six knots. In other words, slightly under seven miles per hour.”
She smoothed back a strand of hair that had whipped across her face. The sailboat rolled and pitched against wind and surf. The mainsail billowed with each new gust.
“Where's Toby?” she asked, glancing back at the cabin.
“Toby's with Ruby. I hit her up for another day of doggy-sitting.”
Vanessa burst into laughter.
“Ruby was more than willing,” he was quick to add. “And in case you haven't already figured it out, she fell in love with Toby the minute she first saw him. She's still working on Clinton to go with her when she takes Toby for his walks.”
“I wish her luck. Clinton's not much into walking these days. Says he gets more than enough exercise working at the lodge.”
“Well, I did my part.” He spread his hands wide. “You can no longer accuse me of standing in their way. I gave her another perfectly legitimate excuse to rope Clinton into a romantic walk on the beach.” Sunlight glinted off the bow. Above them, another bald eagle soared, then swooped down into the snag of a tree. Without warning, a Boston Whaler roared from behind, cutting through their conversation. Vanessa looked back and spotted it racing directly towards them. “Look out!” she cried.
Sydell Voeller Special Edition Page 31
