Island Secrets

by R. T. Wolfe

  * * *

  Matt sat at his desk staring at Zoe and Dane like he was analyzing them. He had yet to say anything other than empty introductions.

  "You're engaged," he said as a statement, then glanced over his desk at her left hand.

  So he could get a better view, she lifted her hand and wiggled her ring finger. "I don't wear the ring in public. We aren't seen together in public."

  "Except Show Me's."

  "We were the only ones in the parking lot that night."

  "And Luciana's."

  "We were the only ones in the entire bar. Are you worried someone else from Ibis might have been in the Florida Keys at the same time we were, too?"

  "Yes."

  Zoe sighed. Cops were thorough. "Why did you bring us here?"

  "I'm moving Miriam."

  Her shoulders fell. "Why?" It was a dumb question. He'd basically told her why, but she still couldn't believe it. She'd failed her. She was supposed to watch out for Miriam, for her brother's lover. And she failed?

  Matt had already been painfully right once. He'd told her she may have wanted it to be murder. It might have been easier for Seth's disappearance to be solely someone else's fault rather than a diving accident that would have been prevented if she were with him. If someone wanted him dead, they would have done it with or without her. She wasn't about to let her conscience do anything like that to Seth again.

  "If she's safer somewhere else, so be it."

  "What?" Dane interrupted. "Who could possibly think she's at my house? What would they find if they did? The blinds are all drawn, just as they've been for weeks, no, months."

  "I have connections in Reno and Chicago. She'll be safe."

  "Will you send her to Reno?" Zoe asked, knowing it was petty. "She would like Reno. But Chicago? No offense."

  Matt shook his head but said, "I can probably have that arranged." He stood and held out his hand. "Congratulations on the engagement."

  Dane shook with him before Matt held his hand out to her. He shook like a man, but Zoe was a Clearwater. She pulled him across his desk and gave him an a-frame hug.

  * * *

  Eli stood at the entrance to the bar section of Show Me's. He looked down at little Chloe and scowled.

  "It's a party, Eli," Zoe begged. "We'll only be a short while."

  "I can't let her in. You know that." He looked around, then leaned to Zoe's ear. "But if you go through the dining area and take some family pictures of the sunset, you might just end up in the bar from that side of the beach." He stood back up, stone-faced like a heartless bouncer.

  The place was nearly empty. They were the first ones there from their group. Only a few small clusters of forty-plus men and women out for an early drink.

  And Dane.

  He sat with one hip on a bar stool, sipping from a bottle. He wore faded jeans with real shoes. His shirt was probably a size too small, and hugged the muscles in his shoulders. This was her man... her fiancé. It sent chills from her head to her toes. He winked as soon as he spotted her, lifting his bottle in an imaginary cheer.

  Then he turned to Chloe. "Look who showed up to crash the party," he said as he approached them. Chloe blushed. He called to the bartender and ordered her a ginger ale with a little paper umbrella.

  They started trailing in. Her father, her mother, Willow. Liam came later with Raine close behind. The ring rested safely in the tiny pocket of her sundress. Tonight, she wore her cowboy hat out of celebration versus necessity.

  They sat around the large group of tables Dane had already moved together. Her family sat on one side with the two of them on the other. He looked at the hands of each of her family members, Liam's, too. Checking their hands to see if they had drinks? He must have been satisfied because he curled his hand around her waist and lifted. It was firm and strong and took away any nerves that threatened to creep up her spine.

  "Thank you for coming out tonight. We have an announcement," he said.

  They'd discussed this. As a couple. As a team. Each set of eyes lifted toward them in unison. He dug his thumb and forefinger in the tiny pocket of her cotton dress. "I realize there's a lot going on right now, but I want you to be the first to know—well, first after Miriam who was sort of there—Zoe has agreed to marry me."

  She had no idea if he had more to say. And it didn't matter since her family erupted in cheers so loud, they drowned out the music. Glasses were lifted and clanked. Everyone hugged everyone, including the men. You would think they'd won the Lotto. Each abandoned the cluster of tables and pulled one another out to dance in celebration. Her father with her mother, Liam with Chloe, Willow alone, much like she used to do around their childhood firepit, dancing to fictitious sand gods.

  "This is the second best day of my life," Zoe said as his hips seduced her to the beat of island bongo drums and snares.

  When the song finished, he dipped her dramatically and kissed her long and hard. The silence was sudden. It took her a moment to escape the imaginary bubble she'd placed herself in with Dane. When she opened her eyes, Dane was looking toward the door. Stone-faced. Defiant. He pulled her up and twined his arms around her.

  Moving her gaze in the direction of his, she spotted them standing in a line. The Sun Trips crew. In a quick head count, she thought it might have been every single one of them. Each of them staring at their embrace. And the ring that glittered in the dance lights.

  "I told them to come," he said stoically without moving his glare from them. "Mandatory staff meeting over a few complimentary beers."

  Zoe nearly fell over herself as she straightened her dress. The same looks ensued, Greg looked to Lilly elbowing her in the ribs as he leaned over to gossip in her ear. In fact, each one of them seemed to hold some sort of silent communication.

  It was the damnedest thing. Before she could lift her hands in an effort to explain, the group lifted their arms and cheered louder than her family. Her eyes darted to Dane's, his to hers. Rounds of firm pats on the back and shoulders followed congratulations and comments of, "It's about time, man."

  She could hardly get her mouth to open, let alone speak any coherent words. Relief flooded her. Closure fulfilled her. It was a good night. A great night.

  Chapter 26

  Slightly buzzed from the alcohol and much buzzed from the turn of events, Zoe let Dane dig her keys out of her tiny purse much the same way he did the ring from her pocket. The ring. She lifted it and watched it sparkle in the moonlight.

  "Where will we live?" she asked as he unlocked the door. "Do you think your parents will make it all the way back for the wedding? The wedding. When should we—"

  He turned the knob and let them tumble through the door. Narrowly, they missed the coffee table and landed on her plush carpet. He pressed his hips into hers, making her forget homes and dates. His lips were tender, yet needy. They left a line of warmth as they traveled along her jaw, down the center of her neck. He took the spaghetti strap from her shoulder and pulled it down leaving her sexy and exposed. Her heart sped. Her breathing spiked. His hands, his glorious hands molded and explored, leaving her a puddle of want.

  She lifted his shirt over his head as she wrapped her feet around his waist, pulling him closer to her, heat to heat. He wanted her. He pulled the straps the rest of the way from her arms, then lifted her hands above her head. She lay there with the soft at her back and hard pressing against her front. He moved his hands over her like he was discovering her for the first time. Would it always feel like the first time with him?

  Her back arched, reaching for him. Inviting him. She tried to unfasten his pants, but he took her wrists and shook his head. "Tonight, you're mine." She could have exploded just from the three little words. A cool breeze wafted over her skin as he pulled her dress to her navel, leaving a moist trail from his tongue in its wake.

  He lifted the bottom half of her dress, grasping her above it, cupping her below. Kissing her everywhere as if his life depended on it. Her body shook, then bucked. Sh
e erupted in his hand, her shoulders pressing into the floor. She knew her hands were supposed to stay above her head. She told them to stay there, but they seemed to have minds of their own. She had to touch him, feel him. All this damned material. It probably seemed like a small tantrum, but she maneuvered from beneath him, removing their clothing piece by piece and tossing it somewhere she didn't know.

  Dipping her body against his, she crawled up his abs, over his chest and landed at his mouth. It was her turn to grasp and tease. The growl that came from deep in his throat only encouraged her until he grabbed her wrist with more force than he had when he tossed them both to the floor. Pulling her head back, she tried for the most evil yet sensual grin she could muster.

  The next growl came from deeper in his throat. She found herself flopped on her back with muscled hips between her thighs. He paused long enough for protection before leaning low and looking from one of her eyes to the other. She didn't know what he was looking for, but he must have found it because he sunk into her painfully slow, then stopped. Her body shook. Her hands dug into his sides. She could feel her eyes blur, lose focus then rekindle as she lifted her hips. He followed much like he did when they danced, leading sensually, never missing a movement. The beat of their dance quickened, her head moving from side to side. He lifted as they moved together, holding out his hands. She laced her fingers in his. He held tight, keeping her grounded. He always kept her grounded. Kept her focused.

  The focus was bliss. It was love. It was real. And it exploded with a force that could shake the calmest of waters. "Now," she screamed but he was already there. Always there. They pressed, arched, and dug in for the last push, then again.

  The sudden weight and warmth of his body made her realize how desperately she'd been breathing. Her chest moved up and down against him as his did the same. She was acutely aware of their racing heartbeats as, they too, danced together. Quickly, then slower, until their sweat-slicked bodies lay lifeless and spent. Her joints were gloriously unhinged, her muscles fatigued. She wouldn't leave this spot. They would order out food and let the delivery people toss it next to their naked bodies.

  "I want to marry you just as soon as you will let me," he said into her hair. "My parents will come. And I will live wherever there is you."

  * * *

  Headed for the grocery store, Zoe turned the corner out of her driveway as she spotted a piece of paper folded in half and left on her dash. Dane. How did this happen? Her happiness was clouded with the lack of closure of Seth's murder. No, that was negative. Her mother would take out the incense, darken the room, and make Zoe meditate until she changed her thought pattern. Instead, Zoe pulled over and decided to do that without the meditation.

  Dane was what made this all bearable. He would be there for her in easier times and in hard. The note was a chicken-scribble drawing of a set of pots and pans with a small arrow showing where she could find them in his kitchen. He was moving in. Officially. Her heart couldn't fit much more.

  The grocery store could wait. She headed toward the north end of the island and turned up the radio, letting the wind whip her hair under her hat and around her face. I will live wherever there is you. Her hand lifted and covered her mouth. Beneath, she smiled from ear to ear. She loved her little house, but he wanted children. She wanted children. They hadn't discussed how many, but a two bedroom house wouldn't be big enough. She knew she was getting ahead of herself, but Dane's house was bigger. It needed loads of work, but the lot was large, a rare find on Ibis. His drive wound back a few hundred feet with large towering trees on both sides. She stopped halfway down, imagining a swing hanging from one of the branches.

  She parked and walked up to the front door. Lifting the empty planter next to the door, she used the spare key and stepped in. She flicked on the light just inside, her eyes landing almost immediately in the center of the room.

  Miriam Roberts. She sat facing Zoe, tied to a chair. Her mouth was covered in duct tape and one of her eyes was purple and swollen shut. She was shaking her head furiously, her good eye blood shot and terrified.

  Behind Zoe, the door slammed, making her jump and spin around where she stood.

  Police Chief Roberts blocked her exit.

  * * *

  Dane stuck the card he bought Zoe in his glove box. On it, he'd written some stuff he thought she would like. He talked Raine into giving her a three-part course so she could get the sea turtle conservation certifications she'd been wanting. He had to bribe Willow with an offer of free babysitting so Willow would cover for Raine and free her up to give the classes. It was worth it. He found a loving-our-engagement card. They made cards for everything. In the envelope, he stuffed the paper Raine gave him with the time and place for the classes.

  He'd called three times. She was probably in the shower, but they had an agreement. As long as all this crazy shit was going on, they would answer their phones. Three times was enough. He was going over there.

  On his way, he'd used his hands-free to call Harmony. She was happy to hear from him, even happier he was joining the family, but hadn't heard from Zoe. Same with Raine and Willow. Hell, he even called Osborne and left a message.

  When her house was empty, he tried to keep himself from overreacting. Too damned late.

  He sped to Sun Trips, then Willow's restaurant, even the grocery store she'd said she was stopping at. When his phone rang, he nearly dropped it out of his Jeep trying to answer.

  Caller ID wasn't Zoe. "Yo," he yelled.

  "It's Osborne. I got your message. I triangulated her phone. She's at your place."

  He could do that? "Shit, man. I'm sorry. Just jumpy, I guess. Thanks for checking it out. And... you can do that? That's some creepy shit."

  He heard Osborne laugh on the other end. "We're getting closer, Dane. Watch your back."

  He knew Osborne was cryptic for a reason, but it reassured him nonetheless. Disconnecting, he did a careful three-point turn.

  * * *

  Zoe's wrists hurt. Her face hurt. Her ankles. But she knew she didn't look anything like Miriam. Zoe was duct taped to a chair around her ankles, her hands behind her back. Just as Miriam was. Across her mouth was a long piece of duct tape that stuck to her ear on one side and in her hair on the other.

  Chief Roberts paced the floor, ranting. "You did this, you little bitch," he screamed as he stopped in front of Miriam. "I told you I'd kill you if you tried to leave me. You're mine." He ducked his face close to hers as he shook.

  The difference between hearing those words from the chief and hearing them from Dane was profoundly different. Dane. Would she ever see him again? He hadn't drawn the picture of pots and pans. She'd been an idiot.

  He wouldn't come out here. They hadn't been here in days. Funny, how the tears wouldn't come. They were going to die. The chief was pacing, waving his arms, and promising it over and over again. Then, like a complete lunatic, he squatted down next to Miriam and brushed the hair from the crusty blood on the side of her face. "I loved you." He said it like he was a prize catch and she was losing him to another woman.

  Carefully, he walked outside and shut the door gently. Within seconds, Zoe heard splashing. On one side of the house, then the back. An overwhelming smell of gasoline crept into her nostrils. Oh no. No, no, no, no. She jerked her gaze to Miriam. Tears dripped out of the eye that wasn't swollen shut. Zoe swore they weren't selfish tears.

  With the sound of a loud whoosh, the house shook. Flames erupted, then crawled over the window panes like the rising tide. They were going to burn.

  * * *

  Dane was relieved that Greg was on for the afternoon cruise. As a bonus, the guy said he was cool with his engagement to Zoe. In fact, nearly the whole staff was. Of course, they thought he and Zoe had been engaged for months. Didn't matter anyway. Like it or not, he was the boss. He didn't care. She was going to marry him and be his forever.

  As he turned onto his drive, he saw smoke, then a flicker. A random pain clenched his gut. He pressed t
he gas harder and swerved down the drive. Flames. Flames crawled up his house around each side. Please, no. Her Jeep was in front. Somewhere inside his head he noticed the police car, but all he could focus on was Zoe's Jeep and the flames. He turned off the engine before he came to a complete stop, pulled the brake and jumped out. The gravel slowed him down as he made a straight line for the front door. Not Zoe. Not his Zoe.

  Ready to kick the front door through the flames, he made it close enough to feel the heat before he was clotheslined and landed flat on his back. Through the stars, he saw Chief Roberts. The pointed end of a cowboy boot landed square on the side of his rib cage, narrowly missing his solar plexus.

  She was in there.

  "You'll never prove anything," Roberts yelled as he reared back a fist. "I was called to the scene of a fire."

  Dane rolled, dodging the fist that came at his face. He kicked out his feet, taking Roberts' down with them. Dane scurried to straddle him as Roberts fell with a thud.

  "And now I can add assaulting a police officer," Roberts said with an easy grin.

  Dane didn't care about anything but her. He grabbed Roberts' uniform and landed a full-force punch to the side of his face. Then, another. And another. He didn't stop until Roberts lay unmoving.

  Zoe.

  Grabbing his injured side, Dane ran toward the front door before holding up his free arm at the heat. He couldn't get close enough to kick the door. Darting his eyes over the condition of his house, he decided on the back.

  He ran to Zoe's Jeep and grabbed the blanket she kept in her survival gear. Tossing it over his head, he ran around the side of his house, yelling her name as he went. Whether it was going to work or not, he tossed the blanket over his head, ran for the back door, and hit it with his shoulder.

  The door crumbled beneath him, and he fell to the floor. Please be alive. The smoke was thinner down here, so he crawled along the floor. The closer he got to the center of the house, the fewer flames there were. He looked up and saw them licking the ceiling, threatening to take everything down.