Читать книгу Hotshot P.i. - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 11

Awakened from a troubled sleep, Jake rolled over, forgetting where he was, and banged his head on the balcony railing. That rude awakening and the once-familiar view reminded him exactly where he was. As soon as he’d landed, he’d rented a boat to get to Hawk Island and his family’s lodge. And he was there because of Clancy Jones.

Having no intentions of staying long, he’d just rolled his sleeping bag out on the balcony, wishing he was on the deck of his boat. The truth was he couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping inside the lodge. It felt too musty and confining, brought back too many memories.

He’d gone to sleep cursing Clancy, while glaring through the railing at the only other dwelling on this side of the rugged island—an almost identical log lodge nestled in the pines across the small bay.

A single light had shone in one of the rooms on the second floor of Clancy’s lodge until the wee hours. He’d seen an occasional shadow and wondered if she was alone. Angry that he couldn’t sleep, either, he’d speculated on what she might be doing still up. Working in her studio? Or trying to sleep and not think, like him?

At one point, he’d considered going over to see her, getting it over with. But it was late, and he told himself waiting until morning was the best plan. He’d finally dozed off, only to be dragged from sleep by a loud noise, which did little to improve his disposition.

As he stared across the moonlit bay, trying to figure out what had awakened him, a movement jarred his attention into focus. Something was thrashing around in the water off the end of Clancy’s dock. He saw what appeared to be a head surface, heard the choked cry before it disappeared again. Clancy?

Shedding his bedroll, Jake leaped from the end of the balcony, dropped onto the beach and took off at a run. He saw the head materialize again, dark against the silvery surface of the water, heard the cry for help and pushed his legs harder. All the time his mind raced ahead of him; the swimmer couldn’t be Clancy. She swam like a trout and was much too smart to be swimming—drowning—at this hour of the night.

He sprinted down the weathered dock to the end as the person emerged once again—yards beyond his reach. Having no time to consider the consequences, he dove in. The sudden shock of the cold water brought him wide awake; he surfaced, gasping for breath. Just ahead of him he could see the swimmer start to disappear under the dark water again. He swam hard and reached out to grab the only thing he could. Hair. It was long enough he could bury his hand in it.

But to his surprise, the swimmer pulled him under with a force that almost made him lose his grip. Immediately he realized his mistake. The silly fool was struggling, fighting him, and he remembered why he’d never considered the lifeguarding profession. Too dangerous. At least in the private eye business you knew who you were dealing with: murderers, crooks, cheaters and liars. Not some novice in over her head in deep water, panicked to senseless desperation and determined to take you down with her.

Jake got a tighter hold on the hair and a grip on one flaying arm, and with all his strength kicked toward the moonlit surface. At first nothing happened, then they both rose in a rush, the swimmer choking and coughing as they surfaced. Jake used a no-nonsense half nelson to drag the person to the dock and, none too gently, hoisted the obviously feminine body onto the worn boards. He felt a moment of relief. This woman, whoever she was, wasn’t Clancy. Not with that body. Her wet clothing molded to her curves—dangerously enticing, fully developed curves.

She leaned over the edge of the dock, fighting for breath, her dripping shoulder-length hair in her face. Slowly, she raised her gaze, sending a shock wave through him.

Clancy? Even under the wet mop of blond hair, even in the shimmering silver of the moonlight, there was no doubt about that face. Her hair was longer. Not quite as blond. But that face. That cute little nose. That slightly puckered, almost pouty mouth. That wide-eyed, curious deep brown gaze. If anything, she was more beautiful than he remembered. And certainly more…filled out. And in all the right places. That adorable seventeen-year-old tomboy he’d known was now one hell of a good-looking woman.

But he wasn’t sure what shocked him the most. Seeing the change in her after all these years. Or realizing she was the swimmer he’d had to rescue. What had happened to the Clancy he used to know, the one who was much too smart to swim alone in the middle of the night?

“What the hell were you doing swimming at this hour?” he demanded, anger following his relief that Clancy was all right. He needed her alive, he told himself. His relief had nothing to do with any old feelings from their past, he assured himself, ignoring the flashes of memories of the two of them as kids. They’d been so close—best pals. More than that. Kindred spirits. The truth was, he’d thought he was in love with her.

“Swimming?” she said, choking. “You think I was swimming?” She coughed, then leaned back, her gaze settling on him with suspicion. “Someone tried to drown me.”

“Wait a minute,” he said, holding up his hands. “I was the one who fished you out of the drink.” He felt something cold sprint up his spine as he looked into her eyes.

“Someone grabbed me and—” Clancy glanced around in obvious confusion, her eyes wild with fear. “You dragged me out?”

“Yeah.” Jake studied her for a moment, wondering how long it would take her to acknowledge that she knew him. “About this someone who tried to drown you.you might notice there seems to be just the two of us on this whole side of the island.” He glanced toward the still water, then at the empty shoreline, then at her again.

“Thank you for helping me,” she whispered, still looking disoriented. And more than a little scared.

He’d known seeing her again was going to trigger a lot of old emotions, emotions he couldn’t afford. He quickly reminded himself that Clancy hadn’t only perjured herself on the witness stand and helped send his father to prison ten years ago, now she was facing a murder rap of her own. Forget that cute kid he used to build sand castles with on the beach and catch trout with off the end of this dock. Someone had bludgeoned Dex Westfall to death, and from what Kiki had told him, the police thought that someone was Dex’s girlfriend, Clancy Jones.

“So what were you doing out here on the dock at this time of the night?” he asked, unable to keep the reproach out of his voice. He was wet and tired and didn’t appreciate being awakened in the middle of the night. Especially by this woman.

“I heard someone…calling me.” She sounded dubious.

Welcome to the club. “Someone calling you?” He glanced at the still water beyond the dock. The pines etched a dark, ragged line against the night sky. Then he looked over at her again. “Someone called you, so you walked down to see what they wanted in the middle of the night?” Perfectly logical.

He saw her look toward her lodge, her eyes widening. He followed her gaze, surprised to see that not a single lamp glowed in any of the windows. She hadn’t turned on a light before coming down to the dock?

“I suppose you didn’t recognize the voice calling you or see the person who pulled you into the water?” he asked, not even trying to hide his disbelief. He could read most people as easily as he could the cover of a tabloid from across the floor of a good-sized minimart. Clancy Jones was lying through her teeth, but for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why. He reminded himself that lying seemed to come easy for her.

“Whether you believe it or not, someone tried to drown me,” she said, her voice breaking. She didn’t sound any more convinced than he was, but she was scared. He could see it in her movements as she got to her feet, nervously tugging her wet clothing away from her body.

For the first time, he realized she wasn’t dressed for a night swim. She wore a T-shirt and a pair of leggings. Both were wet and molded to her body. An amazing body, Jake grudgingly admitted. Her feet were bare, and she still wore her watch and a single gold bracelet. Both looked expensive. He ignored the voice of reason that questioned why she would have gone swimming wearing an expensive watch, why Jake had had to pull so hard to bring her to the surface. The questions wedged themselves in the back of his brain, a reluctant sliver of doubt.

“Right,” Jake said. “And where is that someone now?”

When he raised his gaze to her face, he saw that she was staring at him again. Squinting, actually, as if the moonlight was too bright.

“Who are you, anyway, and what are you doing here?” she demanded.

He tried not to let it hurt his feelings. Why should she recognize him or even remember him? She’d only spent the first seventeen years of her life living right next door to him, spending most every waking moment with him from the time she could walk. And it wasn’t as if he wanted to believe he’d made an impression on her just because she had on him. True, there’d been that kiss, the first for both of them, on this very dock, and she’d said she loved him, but hey”Jake Hawkins,” he said, surprised at the hurt and anger he heard in his tone. And the bitterness. “Not that there’s any reason you should remember me. But perhaps you haven’t forgotten my father. Surely you recall that your testimony sent him to prison ten years ago.”

“Jake.” It came out a whisper. She seemed to wobble a little as she squinted harder at him. “It’s been so long…you sound so different…and—”

He rolled his eyes. “Forget it.” For a moment, he just glared at her, mad, irritable and just plain out of sorts. He shifted his gaze to the lake. Lights flickered on the mainland. The air smelled of fish and pines. He should have been at sea, drifting with the night clouds, catching stripers and sailfish. He should have been at peace, breathing salt air, not standing on a dock in the wee hours of the morning with a woman who’d forced him to remember things he’d only wanted to forget. A woman, who unlike him, seemed to have put at least some of that past behind her.

“Why now?” she asked quietly. “After all this time?”

Fueled on a mixture of hurt and anger, he answered, “Your Aunt Kiki sent me to save your butt.”

“What?” The surprise on Clancy’s face was worth the flight to Montana. It was almost worth missing his fishing trip. “You met my Aunt Kiki?”

“The Wicked Witch of the East herself.” He’d never completely believed the stories Clancy had told after one of her required trips back East each spring to visit her rich aunt. He did now. “She’s everything you said she was. And then some.”

“I don’t understand,” Clancy said, frowning. “Why would Aunt Kiki send you?”

“Probably because I’m a private investigator and your aunt thinks her money and I can dig up evidence that will keep you out of prison.” Even as he said it, he realized it didn’t make that much sense to him, either. He had a hunch, one he was holding off like a bad cold. He told himself not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Kiki had provided him with the perfect opportunity. Why question it?

Clancy met his gaze; tears glistened in her eyes. “I see.”

He realized she did see at least part of it: one of the only reasons he was here was because Aunt Kiki had procured his services. He thought it would give him more satisfaction than it did to hurt her. What had she expected? That he’d come back and forget what she’d done, forgive her? Not likely.

“It’s unfortunate that you’ve wasted your time,” she said, her words so faint, he almost missed them.

Wasted his time? What was she saying, that she killed Dex Westfall, that she was guilty?

She straightened, her glance shifting from her bare feet to his face. “The last thing I need right now is…you helping me.”

He stared at her. “It’s not like you have a lot of choice in the matter. I doubt there’s a line of private investigators knocking down your door to take this case.”

She let out a small laugh; her hand fluttered for a moment in the air between them. “Jake, we both know you’re not here to save me. Admit it, you’d love nothing better than to see me behind bars.”

He started to admit it, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“What was my aunt thinking?” With a dismissive shake of her head, she turned and headed down the dock toward shore. “Consider yourself fired.”

“Wait a minute!” he called after her. “You can’t get rid of me just like that.”

She didn’t even turn around.

Jake stood on the dock, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched her stride toward her lodge. Fired? He’d never been fired in his life. Especially by some woman who didn’t have the good sense not to go swimming in the middle of the night. A woman who had the audacity to make up a story about an attacker calling her down to the dock to drown her—Jake glared at Clancy’s ramrod back as she retreated up the beach. Once a liar, always a liar, he thought.

“Fine,” he called after her. “Fire me. Say hello to my father when you get to prison.”

Her lodge door slammed, leaving him standing alone in the moonlight. He cursed and started toward his own lodge. Matching her angry strides, he stomped down the beach but quickly slowed to a limp. The bottoms of his feet hurt like the devil from racing across sand, rocks and rough wood to save a woman who didn’t even recognize him. He cursed himself for not only his unappreciated heroics, but also for that moment of weakness he’d had when he first saw Clancy again. For just that instant, he’d actually cared. How could he have forgotten, if for even a moment, the part she’d played in helping send his father to prison? He assured himself he wouldn’t forget again.

* * *

CLANCY FELL BACK AGAINST the door she’d just slammed and tried to stop shaking. She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to fall apart; she’d already cried too many tears and it had accomplished nothing. But just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse—Jake appeared.

She hugged herself to hold down the shudders that welled up inside her. Confusion clouded her thoughts. Someone had called her down to the dock and tried to drown her. Or had they? She closed her eyes, searching through the darkness of her memory, fighting desperately to remember. Could it have been just a bad dream? But it had seemed so real. The hand coming out of the water, grabbing her ankle, pulling her into the water. Once she hit the water, she’d been wide awake. But had there really been someone else in the water trying to drag her under? Or had it been Jake fighting to bring her to the surface? It had happened so fast. And yet she remembered the voice. It had been familiar. Jake’s voice?

Her eyes flew open at the thought. No, it hadn’t been Jake’s. His voice had a hint of a southern drawl.

Jake. A rush of emotions assailed her. Memories, as sweet as the warm scent of summer. Regrets that made her heart ache. She’d never expected to ever see him again. Never expected to have these old feelings come back with such force. Then to find him on her dock tonight. And now of all times.

She moved to the table to retrieve her glasses, anxious to be able to see clearly again, wishing she’d had them on earlier. Or at least had her contacts in. All she’d gotten was a blurred impression of Jake. Medium height and muscular. She smiled, remembering the boy she’d grown up with, the boy she’d fallen so desperately in love with.

She thought about the betrayed, angry look he’d given her that day at the courthouse ten years ago. Tonight, she’d heard that same anger and bitterness in his voice. He still blamed her for his father going to prison. And now he’d come to Montana to help her? She couldn’t possibly let herself believe that.

But Jake had saved her life tonight, hadn’t he? Clancy shivered, remembering the dark water and the hands pulling her under. Or had they been Jake’s hands trying to pull her toward the surface? If there had been an attacker, where had he gone so quickly?

She shivered, hugging herself tighter. Right now she needed a hot bath and dry clothing. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d walked in her sleep again; she particularly didn’t want to think what could have happened if Jake hadn’t been there.

She hurried upstairs, anxious to get out of her wet, cold clothing. But as she disrobed and stepped into the hot shower, exhaustion pulled at her, making her thoughts as clouded as the steam that rose around her.

She yearned to be warm and dry. To wrap herself in one of her mother’s old quilts. To curl up in front of the fire-place. To forget everything. And sleep. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the shower wall.

* * *

JAKE QUICKLY SHOWERED and changed into warm, dry clothing, hoping it would soothe his anger and frustration. It had done neither by the time he dialed the private number Kiki had left for him at the Kalispell, Montana, airport along with another cellular phone. She’d evidently anticipated that he’d chuck the first one into the gulf, which he had. It bothered him that Kiki thought she knew him so well.

Kiki Talbott Conners answered on the fifth ring. With more than a little satisfaction, he realized he’d awakened her from a sound sleep.

“What time is it?” she groaned.

Way past his bedtime, he knew that. His eyes felt as if they had sand in them. “A quarter after three.”

“In the morning?”

“That could explain why it’s still dark out.” He could just imagine her in a huge satin bed at the Bigfork condo she’d rented, surrounded by plump pillows and pampered poodles. “Your niece and I just got reacquainted.”

“At three in the morning?” Kiki demanded, grogginess turning quickly to surliness.

He walked to the window. “It’s a long story.” It looked as though all the lights in Clancy’s lodge were on. What was she doing still up, he wondered. And why all the lights? What was she afraid of? Surely she wasn’t buying into her own lies about a mysterious killer who came out of the water like a shark from Jaws. “Let me cut to the chase. Your niece doesn’t want me on this case.”

“That surprises you?” Kiki asked, adding an audible “humph.” “Perhaps she thinks you harbor a grudge against her.”

Kiki’s words snapped his attention back like a short rubber band. “Of course I have a grudge against her. And for a damned good reason.” He raked his fingers through his hair, remembering what Clancy had said on the dock, What could my aunt have been thinking? Exactly what Jake wanted to know. “Which brings me to the reason I called. Knowing that, why in the hell did you want me up here?”

A faint tinkling sound broke the silence. She was pouring herself a drink. He felt as if he was going to need one, too. Kiki had enough money to buy the best private investigator in the galaxy. And if she wanted evidence tampered with, she could have bought that, too. For a price. But not from Jake Hawkins. So why hire a man who had every reason not to help her niece?

“The reason I hired you is the same reason you’re not going to quit,” she said simply.

He wanted to tell her just how wrong she was but that damned hunch of his was doing the lambada across the back of his neck to a little ditty called “Here Comes Heartache.”

He heard her take a sip of her drink, taking her time. “Come on, Jake,” she said impatiently. “You know the reason.”

“Blackmail.” He had a bad feeling that Kiki knew all the blackmail in the world couldn’t make him do something he didn’t want to do. He had his own personal reason for being here, and his hunch machine told him Kiki knew that, had known it all along. So what the hell had she hired him for?

Kiki sighed deeply. “Jake, we both know why you’re in Montana, and it has nothing to do with blackmail.”

He couldn’t believe he was playing this game with her. “Why don’t you spell it out for me, Kiki.” He held his breath, afraid she was about to validate the strongest hunch he’d ever had.

“You’re in Montana because you think Clancy’s the key to proving your father’s innocence.”

Bingo. Jake squeezed the phone and closed his eyes. Clancy was the key. Had always been the key. She’d lied on the witness stand to protect her own. father and let Jake’s go to prison. And now Jake had Clancy where he wanted her. He’d taken this case for one reason only: to get the truth. And as certain as the coming sunrise, he’d do whatever he had to do to get it out of her.

He stared across the bay at Clancy’s. “My motives for being here don’t worry you?” he asked Kiki incredulously.

“No,” she answered in that tone he’d come to despise. “I’ve seen how deep your loyalty runs. Unlike your mother. She could never forgive your father for disgracing her. She moved the two of you to Texas. She never visited him in prison. She forgot Warren Hawkins as if he’d never existed.” Kiki sounded so damned sure of herself. “You, on the other hand, can’t let go of the past. You believe in your father’s innocence and would do anything to prove it. The same way you can’t let Clancy go to prison for a murder she didn’t commit.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said, moving away from the window. Kiki thought he was a crusader for injustice? He wanted to laugh. Didn’t she realize it was Clancy who’d done him the injustice? The woman was a liar; she’d proven that tonight. How could Kiki be so convinced Clancy hadn’t killed this Dex Westfall guy? Blind loyalty? He’d once felt that for Clancy, and look what she’d done to him and his family. No, he suspected with Kiki it was simply a matter of saving the Talbott name.

“I’m quite sure of you,” Kiki said, her tone downright haughty.

He wanted to tell her what a fool she was. After all these years, she’d just offered him the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted. The truth. And revenge at the same time. “What makes you think you know me so well?”

Kiki let out a long sigh. “I heard about how wonderful you were for years, Jake Hawkins. Did you forget that for a long time, my niece foolishly thought she was in love with you?”

Kiki hung up before he could respond. Not that he had a response for that one, anyway.

* * *

CLANCY’S EYES POPPED OPEN at the sound of the phone ringing and realized she’d dozed off standing in the shower! Panic came in hot pursuit of the realization. What if she’d fallen into one of her deep sleeps and sleepwalked again—this time totally naked?

Whatever it took, she had to stay awake. She cranked the shower handle and let out a shriek as the cold water made her skin ache. But just as she was being revived, the phone began to ring. She quickly turned off the water and reached for a towel.

Dripping, she hurried to the phone and picked up the receiver. “Hello.” She could hear breathing at the other end of the line. “Hello?” There was no answer. Just what sounded like soft, labored breathing. “What do you want?” she demanded. No answer. Clancy slammed down the phone. A prank call. Someone who’d read about her in the paper. She’d get her number changed. Maybe even get an unlisted number.

She sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly too tired to move. The soft warmth beneath her beckoned her to crawl in, to cover her head and escape for a few hours in sleep. She stood and headed back to the shower, not about to make the same mistake she’d made earlier. After spending two nights in jail, she’d been running scared and not thinking clearly. She’d been so desperate she’d called her aunt Kiki who’d pulled strings and got her out right after the late afternoon bail hearing Monday. Clancy’s plan had been to go to Bozeman and Dex’s apartment as soon as she got out on bail. She’d come straight to the lodge to pick up a change of clothing. Unfortunately, after she’d hurriedly packed and started to leave, she’d spotted the flicker of a flashlight at the Hawkins’ lodge and spotted the blue outboard tied at the dock. She’d assumed the county attorney had put a deputy on her.

She knew she was only out on bail because of Aunt Kiki and her money. She figured maybe the county attorney had gone along with the bail to please Kiki but had put a deputy on her to cover his political posterior.

So Clancy had foolishly sat by the window to wait him out—not knowing it was just Jake Hawkins, not some deputy, watching her. And she’d fallen asleep and sleepwalked.

She stepped back into the shower and let the icy cold water beat her body wide awake. She didn’t dare let that happen again. Nor could she afford to wait until morning to leave. Although she didn’t relish the idea of crossing the lake in the dead of night, Jake had left her no option. She’d wait until she could be relatively sure he was asleep, then she’d take her boat to the mainland marina where she kept her car. From there she’d drive to Bozeman, go to Dex’s apartment and—She wasn’t sure what she’d find there, but hopefully something that would prove she was innocent.

Sometimes she could almost forget about the upcoming trial. Almost pretend none of this was really happening. Then she’d get a flash of Dex Westfall sprawled on the couch in the garret. Murdered. And her standing over him with the murder weapon in her hand. One of her own sculptures.

Her heart told her she hadn’t killed him. But reason argued: how do you know you didn’t? You were asleep. And look at all the evidence against you.

Exhaustion tugged at her, beckoning her to the one place where she didn’t have to think. Sweet slumber. But with sweet slumber came somnambulism, and she feared her nocturnal wanderings. Look what had happened tonight. What had happened tonight? She wasn’t even sure. Her hands shook as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

She clung to only one hope. That somehow she could prove her innocence. And the only place she knew to start was with Dex. She had to find out everything there was to know about him, including why he’d ended up dead in her garret.

She told herself going to Bozeman, to another county, wasn’t really violating her bail. And anyway, she’d be back before anyone even knew she was missing. If she was lucky. But she’d take extra clothing, just in case. In case she found out something that would prove she had killed him and she decided to make a run for it?

Clancy was coming down the stairs, her hair wrapped in the towel turban-style, when she heard the pounding at her back door.

“Clancy, I know you’re still up,” Jake called. “You might as well open the door.”

She pulled the towel off her head, shook out her hair and used the tip of the damp towel to clean her glasses. Maybe he was coming to tell her he was leaving, going back to wherever her aunt had found him. Hadn’t she wished for the opportunity to really see him before he left?

If only her other wishes were granted that easily, she thought as she opened the door to find him standing on her step. He’d changed out of his wet jeans; he wore chinos and a white T-shirt that accented his broad shoulders and his tanned, muscular arms. A Houston Astros cap was snugged down on his sandy blond head; his hair curled at the nape of his neck still wet from a shower. His clean, spicy smell engulfed her.

“It’s late,” she said, but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention. He was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. The same way she was staring at him.

Her earlier impression of Jake hadn’t done him justice. He’d been cute at nineteen; now he was strikingly goodlooking. Strong features. A full, sensual mouth. Expressive gray eyes. A man with character. He had the kind of face she’d love to sculpt. A mixture of toughness and tenderness.

“You wear glasses,” he said simply, sounding pleased.

She didn’t tell him she’d worn glasses since she was fifteen—just not around him when she was a girl. “I can’t see much without them.”

He smiled then. “That’s nice.” He leaned one broad shoulder against the jamb.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. Goodbye? Or maybe that he was sorry he’d hurt her. Or even that he understood she’d only done what she had to at the trial. “It’s late,” she repeated.

“Yeah,” he said, the smile dissolving as if he’d suddenly remembered why he’d come over. “It’s about your case.”

She stared at him, telling herself she shouldn’t be surprised. “I thought I fired you.”

His frown deepened. “Your aunt hired me, and she’s the only one who can fire me. And trust me, as much trouble as she’s gone to to get me here, there isn’t much chance of that happening.”

Clancy could only assume her Aunt Kiki had lost her mind.

“So now that we have that settled.” He glanced past her into the lodge.

“Yes, I guess that settles everything.” She yawned openly, not that the Jake Hawkins she used to know could take a hint.

“Except for one thing,” Jake said, his voice deadly soft. “I had a fishing trip planned that your aunt interrupted to get me up here.” He held up his hand to silence her before she could tell him what he could do with his fishing trip.

“Let me give it to you straight. I’m here for only one reason—to get the goods on you,” he said, his gaze hard as his body looked.

She swallowed, the cold hatred in his voice making her heart ache, her eyes burn with tears. Only stubborn determination kept her from crying. She wasn’t about to let him see how much he’d hurt her ten years ago, how much he could still hurt her.

“I’m going to find evidence I can use against you,” he said. “And then you’re going to tell me the truth about what you really saw the night of the resort fire, the night Lola Strickland was murdered.”

Clancy started to tell him she had told the truth, but she knew it would be a waste of breath. He hadn’t believed her at the trial, why would he believe her now?

She looked into his eyes, wondering what had happened to the boy she’d loved, the boy who had loved her. She saw nothing in all that gray but bitterness. But instead of hating him, her heart broke as she thought of all the years he’d suffered. Because of his father. Because of her. Jake should have trusted her. He should have known she wouldn’t lie, she wouldn’t hurt him or his father, and she wouldn’t have thrown away their love without a fight, the way Jake had.

“In the meantime,” Jake said, “you and I are going to be inseparable until you’re acquitted—or sent to prison.”

She bit back a curse. “You’re making prison look better all the time.”

His gaze met hers. “I think I know why you lied about my father, but no matter the reason, you’re going to admit it to me. And very soon.” He touched the brim of his baseball cap. “See you in the morning.”

She slammed the door and dropped into a chair at the table, feeling incredibly tired and despondent. Aunt Kiki had brought Jake back knowing how he felt about Clancy, knowing how she’d once felt about him. That old familiar ache seized her heart in a death grip. How Clancy still felt about him.

Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down over her cheeks, bitter on her tongue. She wiped at them. She still loved him. Through all the hurt, she’d never stopped loving him. Could never stop loving him. But like him, she felt betrayed. And angry with him for not trusting her. She knew she’d have to draw on that anger to keep Jake from knowing how she felt about him—and using it against her.

Emotional exhaustion and lack of solid sleep stole at her strength. She leaned her head on her arms and closed her eyes, telling herself she’d rest for a while, just until she could be sure Jake was asleep. Crossing the lake at night seemed less dangerous now. Much less dangerous than facing Jake Hawkins. If there was more incriminating evidence out there against her, Jake would find it.

She wished with all her heart that she could turn back the clock, back before the night of the fire and Lola’s murder, back when Jake loved her. She closed her eyes. And saw Jake come sauntering up the sandy beach, sixteen and suntanned, that grin she loved on his handsome face. And she ran out to meet him, as carefree as the breeze that rippled the surface of the lake.

* * *

CLANCY OPENED HER EYES, shocked to find the sun streaming in through her bedroom window. Even more shocked to find herself curled in the middle of her bed, the quilt rough with sand from her bare feet. She lay perfectly still, her mind frantically trying to recall when she’d come to bed. No memory.

That’s when she noticed her left hand clenched into a fist, as if she held something that might try to escape. With dread, she slowly uncurled her fingers. There in her palm lay a single tiny blue bead.

Her heart pounded. There was nothing unusual or unique about the bead. Except Clancy knew where it had come from. With a tremor of terror she remembered Friday night when Dex had called and demanded she meet him at the Hawk Island Cafe on the other side of the island.

He’d been holding a necklace of colored beads when she’d walked up to him. The outdoor café was empty that late at night and that early in the season. Dex sat at a table in a flickering pool of light from the Japanese lanterns strung overhead. She had looked at the necklace with growing dread, thinking it was another present, wishing she hadn’t agreed to meet him.

He must have seen the expression on her face, because he gave a bitter laugh as she took a seat across from him.

“Don’t worry, it’s not for you,” he’d said, holding up the string of beads for her to see. With a jolt she realized she’d seen it somewhere before. The tiny beads were pale blue. A handmade ceramic heart hung from the center of the necklace. It was painted navy with a smaller pink heart in the middle.

“Where did you get that?” Clancy asked, trying to remember where she’d seen it before.

“It’s part of my mother’s legacy,” Dex said.

His mother? “What are you doing here?” Clancy demanded, wishing she’d never come, wondering how he’d even known where to find her. She’d never told him about the family’s lake lodge. When she’d broken it off with him in Bozeman, she’d thought she’d never see him again. She felt a chill as she watched him hold the necklace up to the light and smile.

“What do you want, Dex?” Clancy asked with dread.

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “You’re part of that legacy, Clancy.”

She felt her fear level rise. How could she not have seen this side of him from the very start? “I thought we’d agreed not to see each other again.”

“We agreed?” He reached across the table and grabbed her arm, squeezing it until she cried out in pain.

“Leave me alone, Dex. I’m warning you—”

He squeezed harder. “If you think you’ve seen the last of me you’re—” He looked past her, seeing something that made his eyes widen. He released her arm almost involuntarily. She turned to look but saw nothing in the darkness beyond the café.

He lowered his voice. “I’m not leaving this island, Clancy. Not until I get what I deserve.” He’d hurried off, leaving her sitting, head reeling, wondering what he’d seen in the darkness that seemed to frighten him. And what Dex thought he deserved.

Just hours later, he’d turned up dead in her garret.

Now she stared at the tiny bead in her palm, knowing this had to be one of the beads from the necklace. Apprehension rippled through her as she stared at her sandy feet. Something had triggered her night wanderings again. And she couldn’t seem to stop them. Now she’d returned from sleepwalking with a single bead from a broken strand. When had it been broken? And where had she found this one blue bead? Even more frightening, how had she known where to look?

She slid her legs over the side of the bed and staggered into the bathroom. As she dropped the bead into the toilet and flushed, she watched it disappear with growing terror. She couldn’t keep kidding herself. Like the broken string of tiny blue beads, her life was coming unraveled.