Isle of Intrigue

by Ann-Marie Desiree

"You don't trust me either. Look, you've got to believe that I didn't mean to hurt him. What choice did I have? The bear was going to eat the dogs and the rest of us right in front of my eyes! I just didn't realize how the shots automatically spray out of a semi-automatic shotgun."

  "What were you doing with that weapon in the first place?"

  "What?"

  Charlie's eyes were narrow. “You heard me."

  "It—I was going to wait for you on the other side of the isle. Jeff and I ... we had an argument, and I wanted to leave. You weren't coming until later, so I—"

  Charlie nodded. “All right, I can fill in the rest of it. Why didn't you go to the hospital? Was he too badly hurt to run the boat?"

  "He didn't want to go."

  "And you?” Charlie asked.

  Startled by that, Peggy said, “I-I don't know the way."

  Charlie didn't answer. Instead, he drank a long swallow from his cup. He just stood there, motionless, and studied the lake tide, as the darkness grew upon the water.

  "Well,” he said, “we'd better wake up Jeff before it gets pitch black out there."

  "Why?"

  Charlie put down his mug. “I'm taking him to the hospital, of course. I can fly him out myself."

  "I think Jeff will have something to say about that."

  Charlie sent her a grin. “Yes, but I'm stronger than he is."

  Peggy stood her ground. “You might have both of us to fight if you plan to use force."

  "Oh ho,” Charlie said, his grin fading. “I should have guessed."

  "I don't know what you mean by that. Jeff doesn't want to go. If that's the way he feels, I'm here to see that his wishes are respected."

  "You're going to stand in my way."

  "Yes, absolutely."

  He shrugged.

  "Don't expect miracles."

  Charlie smiled thinly. “That figures, too."

  Peggy bristled. “What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You tell me.” Charlie lazily folding his arms over his burly chest. “It must be damn convenient keeping him captive out here. Do you think you'll get your story before he dies?"

  Peggy eyed Charlie coldly. “He's not going to die. As for the rest of it, Jeff understands the truth about me. That's all that matters. I don't owe you a damn thing, Mister Charlie."

  "Maybe not, but I don't trust you, Yankee lady. Maybe you've manipulated Jeff into believing every word you say, but I'm tougher. You're going to have to do more than take off your clothes to entice me. Besides, you've only got a pair of big tits to do anything serious with."

  "Shut up.” Peggy stood up and strode to the far end of the porch. She was determined to put some distance between them before she belted the fellow. She faced him, but fought to keep her temper under control. “I don't care what you believe. I don't give a damn about you at all. Except that you're supposed to be Jeff's friend. You know more about his problems than I do!"

  "If it's a choice between living and dying—"

  "It isn't. Go ahead and wake him up, if you like. You'll see for yourself."

  Softly, Charlie said, “You're in love with him, aren't you?"

  Peggy stared. “What the hell gives you that idea?'

  Charlie lifted his shoulders. “Call it ‘loner's intuition.’ You've really got it bad for him, don't you?"

  "I am not ... I don't ... I have no feelings one way or the other for—"

  He laughed. “You can't even say the word, can you? By God, the two of you are a real item! Neither one of you wants to admit you might need some simple human companionship every now and then."

  "Asshole! Go take a flying leap!"

  Her violent protest seemed to amuse him. Charlie eased himself down on the balcony railing and leaned there, studying her. “It's not a crime, you know. He's a nice guy. You'd be crazy not to fall head-over-heels for him."

  Peggy felt her anger start to deflate. Maybe she'd been a fool to get so pissed off in the first place.

  She looked away from Charlie. “A lot of good it would do me."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because,” she burst out, “that guy is more nervous than a first-time tourist on an airplane."

  "He's got his reasons,” Charlie said calmly.

  "You mean, the mess he's gotten himself into? Exactly my point. How does he expect to get out of it without some help? He has to start trusting somebody else eventually!"

  Charlie looked at her oddly. “You've got it all wrong. It's not just you that he's suspicious of. Jeff doesn't trust himself."

  That revelation surprised her.

  "I've said too much,” Charlie said quickly, seeing her expression. Newly agitated, he got to his feet and began to pace. “See here, I don't know anything about you. I probably shouldn't trust you at all. Usually, I'm damn protective when it comes to Jeff. He's been the best friend that I've ever had."

  "I won't blow his cover. That's an East Coast expression. It means I won't betray him."

  Charlie stopped pacing and looked at her hard. “You'd better not"

  "He told me that there are Homeland Security agents looking for him. That he's protecting some secret that could put others’ lives in danger. And I know he's a doctor, but not that kind of doctor. Do you know?"

  Reluctantly, Charlie said, “He was in some secret research."

  "What kind of research?"

  "I can't tell you more,” Charlie said. “The rest of the story has to come from Jeff. That is, if he feels like talking."

  Pained, Peggy shook her head. “I don't think he'll ever confide in me. I haven't given either of you much reason to trust me."

  Charlie eyed her for a long moment. “You were ready to protect him from me just now. And by the look in your eye, I have a feeling you wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt him."

  She snorted. “Are you going soft on me, Charlie?"

  "Hell, no."

  "Good. I'd hate to think that too many others were starting to like me. God damn, what a day! I could use a drink. How about you?” Peggy mustered a grin. “Can I pour you a stiff ... oh, God. I'm sorry. I forgot."

  Charlie shrugged. “Don't worry about it. How about some more of that foreign bean brew?"

  "Sure thing.” Peggy picked up his empty mug. “Say there, Charlie..."

  "Yes?"

  "You're all right."

  "Well,” he said, “don't expect me to return the compliment. Not yet, anyway."

  When Peggy held the door open for Charlie to follow her into the cabin, she caught a glimpse of his face. She discovered, in that moment, that Charlie had a very nice smile.

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  Chapter 7

  Jeff woke up with a violent headache, and a throbbing in his shoulder and arm that could have lit up a pain meter like the entire galaxy of stars. He swallowed some pain relievers and plopped himself down on one of the chairs at the table.

  He was glad to see that Charlie had arrived, but he also noticed that the atmosphere between his friend and Peggy was a little tense. Still, they seemed capable of civil conversation. And she naturally coaxed some laughter out of Charlie while they cooked dinner together and served the meal.

  Jeff sat with them and found that he couldn't eat. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry. It wasn't that his shoulder was aching or his head throbbed with a dull and steady thud. He just couldn't take his eyes off Peggy. She looked so lovely; brunette and fresh and young.

  She was so exotically female as she chatted with Charlie, taunting him, and coaxing conversation from him by turns. She smiled, and the room seemed to brighten. She laughed, and music couldn't have sounded more beautiful.

  And all of her smiles were for Charlie. She couldn't be nicer to the man. She served his dinner, and she kept his coffee cup filled. She listened to him talk as if he were explaining the mysteries of the universe. Jeff burned inside. He was disgusted. He was angry.

  Who was he kidding? He was jealous! That thought knifed through the fog of muddled-up
emotions and struck Jeff with such absolute clarity that he actually jumped. He dropped his fork, and it clattered on the table. In an instant, Peggy was on her feet and scurrying around to his side.

  "Are you all right?” She bent over his shoulder with great concern. She laid one arm across his back and touched his forearm with her other hand. “Jeff? Are you feeling worse?"

  "No.” He shook his head. “Ah, I mean, not exactly. I just ... for a moment there, I felt—"

  "We've tired you out,” Peggy said at once. “We were being thoughtless. Come, let me help you over to the fire, all right? I'll tuck you into some blankets and bring you a glass of wine. How does that sound?"

  "Alright.” Jeff allowed her to help him to his feet.

  He even faked a stumble so she'd hug him harder. Things would have gone his way perfectly, if he hadn't happened to catch the expression on Charlie's face.

  "What's the matter with you?” Jeff demanded.

  "Me?” Charlie endeavored to look innocent. “Why, nothing. I'm not the one who needs a nurse."

  "I don't either,” Jeff growled.

  Charlie laughed. “No, I don't really think you do, my friend."

  "Don't tease him,” Peggy commanded. “You're not being nice. Now, help me get him over to the couch, will you?"

  "He doesn't need to sit down, Peggy,” Charlie said. “Maybe he just needs some fresh air. Some cool fresh air. Take him outside. I'll do the dishes!"

  "Well...” Peggy began doubtfully.

  "That's a good idea,” Jeff said. “We'll just step outside for a few minutes."

  "Take your time,” Charlie said blandly.

  But when Peggy's back was turned, Charlie waggled his eyebrows at Jeff, with a quelling look thrown over his shoulder.

  Jeff let Peggy draw him by the hand into the night air. Shadows covered the porch, and the fresh breeze off the lake sharpened his senses to an acute state of awareness.

  Peggy twirled around before him, her hair floating about her shoulders. Jeff caught the scent of her, and it was almost dizzying. She pulled him to the porch railing and perched there, looking up into his face with a sweet frown of concern on her brow. “Are you feeling all right?"

  "I'm not too bad."

  "Please, let me know the minute that you get tired,” she ordered. “We'll go back inside."

  "I'm not tired. Let's go for a walk."

  "Are you kidding?” Her lovely brown eyes widened. “Jeff, it's—"

  "Come on.” He gripped her wrist.

  He could hear Charlie crashing and splashing in the kitchen, and he figured that his friend intended to eavesdrop unashamedly. He pulled Peggy off the porch, and together, they strolled down the path under the fragrant pines.

  Beside him, Peggy stayed silent. But Jeff could sense that she was ready to explode. He had never known her to shut up for longer than one minute, unless she had something serious on her mind.

  At last, she stepped in front of him and turned. “Jeff, I'd like to help you. I can help you beat whatever it is that you're fighting. Charlie wants it, too. Together, we could do it. I know we can."

  Her upturned face looked very young in the moonlight. Her eyes were luminous, yet electric. Jeff was moved to touch her cheek, to feel its smooth contour under his fingertips.

  "There is no ‘we’ in this situation, Peggy,” he said. “This is my problem, not yours. I've made that clear, haven't I?"

  She grasped his hand and squeezed. “One thing about me ... I don't always listen to what I'm told."

  He grinned. “I've noticed that."

  She didn't smile back. “You can't stay here forever, Jeff. Surely, you see that. Eventually, something's got to give."

  "I never intended to hide here forever.” Jeff put his back against the trunk of a tree, and he leaned there, looking out over the placid Lake Superior. The evening seemed to require honesty.

  He said, “I planned to remain here for a while and figure out a way to end it all. It was easy, though, staying here. Nobody gets hurt if I keep to myself. My actions affect only myself. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

  "Of course. But can't you see what you're doing to yourself?"

  "It's not so bad."

  "Compared to what? Slow poison?"

  Jeff smiled again, looking at the determined thrust of Peggy's pointed chin.

  "You know what I mean."

  "No, I don't."

  She pushed away and stood on the path, her fists cocked on her narrow hips. “Okay, you're going to save this world! But at what cost? You have so much to give, but you're practically buried here, Jeff. You have to get off this island before you decay!"

  He laughed shortly. “That's what I like about you, Peggy. You never look at the dark side, do you?"

  "I always look for a way out, if that's what you mean."

  "It is. Somehow, I can't imagine you stuck in any kind of trouble. You're like the captured creature that's willing to chew its own foot off."

  "You're right. I hate being trapped. There's always a way out.” She trembled, trying hard to suppress her anger. Then suddenly, she cried. “I hate seeing you here! You're a doctor, for crying out loud! You could be helping starving children someplace. Or-or taking care of tottering old people! Dammit all, what's so important? What makes you think that you shouldn't come back to the land of the living?"

  "Peggy, I—"

  "Tell me!” She had that took on her face again—Peggy the tireless, Peggy the fighter, Peggy the winner. “Tell me."

  It was a secret he'd kept for a long time. There were days when he thought it might eat him up inside, but it hadn't. How many times had he considered telling someone? Now, here was Peggy—a woman who made her career out of meddling. A woman who used information to pull herself up out of the poverty so common in the urban centers of her home country.

  And Jeff was tempted to spill everything to her. He'd felt her touch, seen her naked face, felt the tremors of her body when she surrendered to him. She had trusted him, and now Jeff felt as though he could return that trust.

  "I don't expect you to understand it all,” he started.

  "I'm not such a wild and loose slut as everybody thinks.” Peggy raised an eyebrow.

  He laughed. “Alright.” He let go of his final misgivings. “It's got to do with my father."

  "Who is he?"

  "He's dead."

  Peggy didn't react, didn't rush to voice empty phrases of condolence. She waited for more from him, allowing Jeff to set his own pace. Grateful for her silence, he touched her hair. It was a quick caress.

  He said, “My father was a project biologist with The Research Institute here. You've probably never heard of it. They do a lot of top secret stuff."

  "Like what?” Peggy shifted closer, listening attentively.

  "Research and development for the drug companies mostly. But also many projects for the government here, too. That was my father's area of expertise, at least. When I joined the projects I—"

  "You worked there, too?"

  Jeff hesitated. “Yes. After I finished medical school, my father asked me to join his team. I was very excited, at first. I'd heard bits and pieces about his work for years, and it all sounded quite interesting. It wasn't until I was on the inside that I realized what he was actually doing."

  "Which was?"

  "There are lots of words for it. But essentially, he was creating weapons-grade chemicals for use in the Middle Eastern Wars."

  "What do you mean? Like the Killing Spray?"

  "Products like that, yes. Though not specifically."

  Peggy cursed softly. Her gaze never left Jeff's face. “That kind of work doesn't sound much like your style."

  "You're right.” Jeff felt a swell of tenderness for her. Peggy was unconditionally loyal. He decided he could tell her the rest. And he did so in a rush, as if ridding himself of a terrible guilty secret.

  "I felt—well, I had mixed feelings. After all, this was my father. He was the one man in the
world I admired above all others. I thought we shared the same ideology. Oh, we weren't a very political family. At our house, we always discussed medicine at the dinner table. So, at first, I had no clear opinions about the work that I found myself doing.

  "For a while, it was easy to believe the governmental propaganda. My new colleagues were my father and his cronies. They were men who brought their families to our home on holidays. But suddenly, I was hearing them talk about ‘more efficient and humane methods,’ about ‘faster and more effective exterminations.'

  "They had such euphemisms that made it all sound very clean. Like social party conversation. But we were making weapons, Peggy. We were looking for quick, inexpensive ways to kill ‘only’ targets of opportunity."

  Jeff turned away from her. The past came flooding into his mind. The others and events suddenly clear in his memory. “We worked in a beautiful, big building on the top of a cliff. It had been designed by some wonder of an architect, and it was lovely. There were beautiful paintings hanging in the corridors, and skylights let in the sunshine. The Institute even paid for a chef to be on the premises every day. We were given every luxury. I guess they thought all of those perks would keep us all happy."

  "And you'd forget what you were working on."

  "Yes. But I couldn't forget. I-I lasted about a year. And then, I started to fall apart, I guess. My father was furious with me after awhile. We argued day and night. And my ... there was a young woman in my life then, too. We'd met in school, and she became a biochemist and worked at the lab, too."

  "Were you lovers?"

  For an instant, Jeff wished he could deny it. “Yes. We lived together in a community just down the road from the lab. My parents lived on the same street. It was a whole neighborhood of people who worked for The Research Institute."

  "How convenient,” Peggy commented. “For the brainwashing, I mean."

  "You figured that out. Yes, it was brainwashing of a sort. We lived, worked, and socialized in a very closed mini-society."

  "So, when you started to change your mind about your work, everybody in the neighborhood knew it."

  "Exactly. As soon as I made my opinions publicly known, I was cut out of the system. Even our landlady suddenly terminated our lease."