Obsidian (12 page)

Geez,
he needed a drink.

“Really, no thanks are needed. I just happened to be wearing my white hat tonight.” He pushed away from the wall and moved around her, starting down the hallway to his room.

“Where are you going?”

He looked back to find her watching him. The little voice inside him kept telling him to turn around and keep walking.

“I need to go out for awhile. I promised someone I’d meet them.” He could see the dejection in her face. He was a heel for running out, but he needed to put some fast distance between himself, the situation, and Shelby.

She really should have someone stay with her, but he couldn’t be that person.

He had to keep reminding himself that he was here for a very good reason. David was counting on him and it was his job to find out who was behind his death. That meant he needed to keep his professional distance. No matter that what he really wanted to do was to turn around and take her back in his arms, comforting her like a child with a nightmare, or a woman with a soft body.

“I understand.” A tear ran down her cheek and Jamie clenched his fists tighter around his gear. The urge to brush the tears away for her was no more a part of his plan then to seduce her. But then again, he’d been fighting a lot of urges since he’d met her. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to hold her again. It wasn’t a good idea.

“Look, I’m not very good at handling these kind of handling situations, Shelby. I’m sorry. I did what I can. Help is on the way. Now, it’s just best if I go back to my room and stay out of your way.” He didn’t dare look back to see is she was watching him. If he did, he knew he’d end up going back and doing what he really wanted to do.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he headed for his room once again. He needed to be out of here, for more reasons than one. All hell was about to break loose and he needed to be as far away from here as he could get.

Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it to steady himself. He was going to have to put off his exploration of the package until things cooled down some. Right now, he needed to get out of here. He couldn’t risk anyone recognizing him. He’d already risked enough by calling Kearsage.

If they did find Josh safe then Shelby would have her happy ending. But if they found him injured, or worse if they didn’t find him at all, there’d be questions.

Questions, he wasn’t prepared to answer.

He was here to do a job. At the top of his list was a need to check out the list of possible suspects that McAlvey had given him. Time was running out.

Jamie stashed his gear and the package in the top corner of the closet and placed a folded quilt over it to hide it.

The ache in his leg reminded him of his task at hand, and how far he still had to go. He threw himself onto the bed, propping his leg up on a pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. His body sank into the soft comfort of the mattress as he fought to release some of the tension centered between his shoulders.

It was so easy for him to slip into his role of rescuer that he’d almost given himself and his cover away. He’d been playing rescuer all his life whether he wanted to or not.

But first, he needed to get himself back on track. Frustrated, he got up and pulled his dark-colored windbreaker over his head. Grabbing a flashlight from his supplies he slipped out into the hall.

There were no sounds in the house. Maybe Shelby had decided to go down to the wharf to look for her uncle, or maybe she’d gone out onto the deck to wait. He slipped out the back door and across the lawn. It was so quiet that he could hear his footsteps in the grass. Even the ocean was quiet tonight.

Straddling his bike, he maneuvered it out of the shed. Turning the key, he switched on the gas and hit the start button. The engine roared to life and the stillness of the night gave way to the rattle of the bikes exhaust pipes.

He was doing the right thing. Walking away was the logical choice. He’d let the Coast Guard handle finding her brother and let Shelby handle her own worries.

Right now, the best place to find information was at the local tavern.

Shelby hid in the shadow of the curtains, watching as Jamie got his motorcycle out of the shed and started it up. His legs looked much too long for the ride. No wonder he’d been uncomfortable. For a moment an image flashed through her mind of what it would be like to have him use his long muscled legs to keep her captive. A rush of heat flushed her cheeks. This was not her. She didn’t have sexy thoughts about virtual strangers.

She shook her head and groaned. She was not going to have those kinds of thoughts about any man right now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even considered having thoughts those kind of thoughts about a man.

It had been so long since Tommy’s death. Maybe her body and mind were reminding her that she was still alive. But Jamie Rivard was not the man to give her a wake-up call. He was an attractive man and despite his obvious reluctance, he had a good nature about him. Still, the sooner he left Chandler, the better it would be for everyone.

The sound of the engine faded as he pulled out of the yard and headed up the road.

Jamie Rivard was a contradiction. In the short time she’d known him he’d shown her so many sides that she wasn’t quite sure which was his true nature.

What she did know was that she was grateful for his help tonight. Old fears had stopped her from taking action. Thankfully, Jamie had taken over. Wherever Josh was, he’d a better chance of getting back okay if everyone was looking for him.

She sighed. The last thing she’d wanted was to find herself in his arms, and yet, being there had felt more right than anything in a very long time.

She leaned forward and looked out over the harbor. She was enough of a realist to know that anything could have happened to Josh. He could be stranded with a broken motor, or he could have put in somewhere else for the night. Any alternative was better than the thoughts that clustered at the edge of consciousness. She refused to think that something more serious might have happened to him. Yes, Josh was irresponsible and irrational at times, but he’d never been raised to take the chance of knowingly risking his life.

She could only hope that he didn’t.

Shelby pulled her coat from the hook behind the door and grabbed her cordless phone, before letting herself out onto the deck. The night air was crisp and clear and a fresh breeze wrinkling the trees that foreshadowed the true fall weather.

She settled into one of the Adirondak chairs facing out over the shore. The lights from the houses reflected back along the water. Inside those houses, the people were safe and secure. They were busy putting kids to bed and having quiet time with the people they loved.

And she was out here alone.

Once again, she pushed back at the tears that hovered near the surface. Once she was settled and her brother was home safe and sound she was going to find herself a life.

Heavy sound of footsteps echoed through the house followed by the sound of the screen door banging. In the darkness, she looked up to find her uncle standing over her. She searched his gaze for any sign of hope that Josh had returned, safe and sound. But all she could see was the tight, tired line of his lips and the grim look in his eyes.

It was bad.

She fought the surge of panic threatening to overwhelm her. She knew the look on his face. It was the same one he’d given her the night Tommy had disappeared.

“It’s Josh.” He came to place a comforting hand upon her shoulder and she knew without a doubt that the news wasn’t good.

“They found his boat anchored off of Hen Island. But he’s missing and so has most of his dive gear. I’m afraid that it doesn’t look good.”

With a cry, Shelby launched out of the chair and into her uncle’s arms, enveloping her in his strength as she let out the tears and the fear.

Callaway’s Pub was almost vacant at the ungodly hour of ten o’clock on a Tuesday night. But it was just the kind of place he’d pick if he’d been here for any other reason.

High stools lined up against a wooden bar and music was playing from an unseen jukebox near the back of the narrow room. Behind the bar, the low hum of a two-way radio fought for attention with the noise of the television hanging on the wall.

Jamie settled down onto one of the stools and motioned to the bartender to bring him a beer. Two old fishermen sat the bar their heads bent toward each other were in quiet conversation. They turned and eyed him, sizing him up. Jamie nodded in greeting and they nodded back before resuming their talk.

The bartender was a tall, thin man in his fifties. His dark hair was spiky and straight, with a graying handlebar mustache under a hawk-like nose. His hesitant gaze inspected him from behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses as he slid a beer in front of him.

“You’re new around here. Where are you from?”

Jamie took a sip of beer before answering. “New Orleans, mostly. But more recently from Key West.” He reached for a handful of the nuts in the chipped bowl on the bar and tossed a couple into his mouth.

“Sounds like you get around some. What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

Jamie shrugged. “I thought I’d check out Maine for a change,” he said, keeping his ton purposely light. This was a test of sorts. If he were going to get any information than he’d have to either fit in, or at least be judged as a non-threat.

“We ain’t got much for night life, Mister. You’ve come at the busy time and you can see what it’s like. Most times, people who want any real excitement head into Portland. Around here the only excitement is when someone gets a hangnail.” He started wiping down the bar with a wet rag.

“I’m not here for excitement. I’m here to work.” The bartender stilled his wiping. Jamie’s words had somehow hit a hitch.

“Mighty hard to find a job around here. Most are families working with families and such. You’d do a might better finding a job down the coast, somewhere like Rockland or Camden. I hear they like to hire your kind.”

Jamie ignored the offhanded comment and continued munching on the nuts.

“I already found a job, but I appreciate the advice.”

The bartender stopped, looking at him over the rim of his glasses. “That was fast. Mind my asking, who gave you a job?”

“I got a job hauling with John Case.”

The bartender’s eyes narrowed, as he looked Jamie up and down again. At the end of the bar, the two old men had stopped their conversation and were now listening to the exchange. He willed himself to keep from stiffening up. He hadn’t wanted to call attention to himself, but it was too late. He’d either just blown it royally or . . .

“I guess if Case gave you a job, then you must be okay. He’s a good judge of character for someone from away.”

Jamie let out the breath he’d been holding. He’d passed inspection, at least for the time being. Now, all he had to do was ask some questions without raising their suspicions all over again.

The door opened with a gust of wind that rocked the curtains at the window. A young man in his twenties came into the bar and sidled up next to him. His worn shirt, faded jeans and rubber boots marked him as a local.

“Hey Callaway, what’s with the action down at the wharf?” The conversation in the bar stopped, as all eyes turned to the newcomer. Jamie stayed rooted to his seat. Taking a drink of his beer, he tried his damnedest to fade into the woodwork.

“Something is going on down at the wharf?”

The young man’s head bobbed up and down. “There’s a bunch of trucks and people down at the wharf and I heard on the radio that they called out the Coast Guard. It must be bad.”

“Any idea who it is?” One of the old men asked.

“Geez, I didn’t have a clue anything was going on.” The bartender shuffled over behind the bar and fiddled with the knobs on the radio. “I’ve had the radio turned down all day. The constant cackling was driving me crazy.” The crackling static of the radio rose with the increased volume.

The radio transmissions were stilted at first, the voices hard for Jamie to decipher. The tones were hurried and the words precise. Everyone in the bar was now crowded around the radio, drawn by the tension filtering through the airwaves.

“I can’t believe that young fool is missing.”

“Who’s missing?” The young man next to him touched one of the old men on the arm as he spoke. He could hear the concern in his voice.

Inside, he could feel his own chest tightening. With every word transmitted the tension mounted in the bar. All unnecessary conversation stopped as everyone listened.

The words were garbled as they came across. He caught bits of conversation here and there, enough to know that what they had found wasn’t good news. The
Glory Day
s had been located anchored off Hen island. There was no sign of Josh. Just what he’d feared.

Outside the window, the wind had picked up, scattering the leaves on the trees. With any luck, the clouds would clear up and they could use the light from a bright moon to search for awhile more before giving up for the night.

The best scenario would be if Josh had somehow made it to one of the nearby islands for safety. Even with the recent mild temperatures, the water was much too cold to spend any length of time in it. If he had on a survival suit his chances were better, but from the sound of it they hadn’t found him or his diving gear.