CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE BUILDING NEAREST the beach on a cul de sac west of Main Street, Benno’s cottage reminded Sydney of the man himself. Having weathered countless storms, the small house remained proud, unbroken, solitary.
Standing over his bed, she listened to Benno’s deep, slow breathing. He’d passed out, the combination of exhaustion and pain killers prescribed by the doctor too much for him to resist.
Golden light streamed through a break in the curtains, darting a shaft across the bed. The white gauze protecting Benno’s wounded arm gleamed against his olive skin. His chest was bare but for a silky matting. The knowledge that he might be naked beneath the sheets stirred her.
The dark shadow on his face had grown to a rough beard stubble, making his chin scar prominent. He was as tough as they came. And yet, asleep as he was now, Benno projected an innocent quality, the very idea at odds with Sydney’s image of the dark knight who rushed headlong into danger.
She moved away from the bed and adjusted the window coverings, throwing the room into a cool darkness before edging out quietly and closing the door. A cozy one-story, Benno’s cottage consisted of a living room, kitchen, two small bedrooms and a single bath. She’d been thrilled to move in temporarily if for no other reason than to bid Martha Lord good riddance.
Shaking away the unpleasant memory of their fair well, she picked up the telephone and punched out a Seattle number she had looked up in her address book.
While she waited for someone to answer, she looked around with pleasure and a sense of peace. The decor reflected the view out the windows. Sand colored walls. Loveseat and couch in a muted wild grass print. A coffee table with a driftwood base, glass top decorated with shells and a single starfish.
Three rings and a connection was made.
“This is Honor,” came a low, husky, prerecorded voice. “Sorry that Nora and I are busy... but if you leave your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Sydney hung up rather than leaving some obscure warning that might frighten Honor when undoubtedly the actress wasn’t even involved in this mess.
Arms tight across her chest, she approached the fireplace and studied the canvas hung above the mantle – The Sugar Loaf, painted not on a sunny day, but on one preceding a storm. The sky was dark and threatening, the sea roiling and careening up the sea stack’s rocky sides. Recognizing the danger they’d been in more clearly than before, she rubbed her arms and turned away from the oil painting.
The bay windows on the opposite wall gave her a perfect vista of the beach to the north. With a start, she realized Benno had a clear if distant view of the unusually shaped sea stack that had played such an important part first in his life, now in hers.
Too restless to sit and wait for him to wake, she decided to take a stroll along the beach. Quietly, she left Benno’s home. The sun shone brightly over the sand as if the storm had never been. She glanced back at the cottage with its peeling white paint and sea blue outside shutters that would keep the winter storms at bay. Then she turned north and was drawn inexorably to The Sugar Loaf.
A comfortable pace brought her to the boulder-strewn area in less than ten minutes. A few children played in the shallows and a teenager sat on a shelf halfway up the north side. No one paid her any mind as she scrambled over rocky ledges pocked with cracks.
At the base of the sea stack, several depressions made perfect tidal pools partly filled with sea water where lush carpets of brown and green seaweed protected clusters of barnacles and blue muscles. She spotted a purple starfish and several red sea urchins with three inch spines. Green sea anemones shimmered on the tidal pool’s floor.
So much life had almost been the host to death twelve hours before.
Almost.
If Benno had died trying to save her, she would have been burdened with guilt for the rest of her days. If she had come away alive without him to guide her to safety...
But they were both alive, and she had come away with something very different than guilt, a knowledge at once exhilarating and unwelcome.
Nestled together in the heart of cold, compassion less rock, they had shared something warm and special. Something scary. Sydney had to face the fact that her feelings for Benno had gone beyond mere caring. No matter how much she rationalized, no matter how many times she reminded herself that she’d believed herself in love with an imposter barely a week before, she couldn’t shake the certainty: she was in love with Benno DeMartino.
Now what was she going to do about it?
Discomfort and indecision sweeping through her, Sydney decided to get away from The Sugar Loaf and head back toward the cottage via Main Street. Benno wouldn’t be awake for a while, so she might as well browse through the shops. Hotfooting it over the sand strip and along another cul de sac, she headed toward the center of town.
Her enthusiasm was short spent. Though she studied the merchandise displayed in the store windows, she didn’t bother to enter any of the shops. Her thoughts kept wandering to Benno.
Had he awakened?
Would he be anxious when he didn’t find her?
About to give up the pretense of shopping altogether, Sydney was alerted when she drew near Stone Beach Photos.
Standing on the curb several yards away, Parnell Anderson and Mick Brickman were huddled together. Their conversation seemed almost conspiratorial and she was reminded of the memorial service. Of the two men, Parnell seemed the more forceful. The leader. Whatever he was saying was putting Brickman out of sorts. The lawman’s fists were wedged at his hips and his face was drawn into a scowl.
Sydney couldn’t help herself. Pretending interest in a window display she didn’t really care about, she edged her way closer and did her best to eavesdrop while watching the men’s reflections in the glass.
“This is the best opportunity we’ve had to nail him,” Parnell was saying, “so don’t blow it.”
Brickman opened his mouth to answer, then noticed Sydney’s presence. Their eyes met in the window. His jaw snapped shut and he inclined his head to his companion. Parnell turned and caught sight of her. When he motioned the other man away, Brickman left immediately.
Disappointed that she hadn’t heard more, Sydney started to move along herself but was brought up short when Parnell Anderson suddenly stopped her.
“Miss Raferty,” he said, standing directly in her path. “I hear you’ve been having yourself some trouble.”
“Not of my own making.”
“No, not unless you count the company you keep.”
Figuring he meant Benno, whom he didn’t like, she merely said, “Really?”
“I heard you moved in with DeMartino.”
“He was kind enough to lend me his guest bedroom – not that it’s any of your business.”
“You don’t have to justify your sleeping arrangements as long as you’re satisfied.”
Outraged, Sydney tried to brush past him, but Parnell used his arm as a barricade.
“What is it you want?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“To warn you about DeMartino.”
“I don’t need your warnings.”
“I think you do.” He lowered his arm and sounded like a cat who’d cornered a tasty snack when he said, “I would lay odds that he never told you why he left town only two days before high school graduation.”
“Maybe he did.”
Parnell took a close look at her expression. He lips drew into a smirk. “I didn’t think so.”
“When and if Benno wants to tell me,” Sydney said, pretending a disinterest she wasn’t feeling, “I’ll be happy to listen.”
“I doubt that he’d tell you the truth.”
“Which is?”
Parnell’s nasty smile faded. “That he killed my kid sister.”
“You’re lying.”
“Ask anyone in town, Miss Raferty. Ask him what happened to Nissa. If he won’t tell you, come back to see me and I will. My office is just up th
e street,” he said, pointing to a small complex. “I’m listed on the directory.”
With that, he inclined his head and departed.
And Sydney stood staring after him, her insides cold with dread, her heartbeat accelerating until she felt ready to burst.
Could it be true?
Could Benno really have taken a life?
It would explain so much. Another reason he was so secretive. Why he’d been gone from Stone Beach for so many years. Why he was still disliked. The dreadful incident in his past the Tarot had inferred.
If it were true. Her every instinct wanted to deny the possibility.
Feeling like Alice who’d stepped through the looking glass, Sydney ran along Main Street, not planning to stop until she arrived at Benno’s cottage. She had to find out whether or not she could have been so fooled by yet another man.
If she had... if she were wrong about Benno...
Where the hell were her psychic gifts when she really needed them? Sydney wondered yet again. Why couldn’t she look within herself and see the truth?
As the cottage came within sight, Sydney realized she’d never been so frightened in her life.
Pushed to the Limit (Quid Pro Quo 1) Page 31
