See Me in Your Dreams (28 page)

Horrified,
Keelin said, "But that's the building where the
Smialek
boy died!"

"Shame about
the kid." Not that he sounded sorry. "Shame you put it together,
too."

Keelin
recognized a threat when she heard one. Though the gun was still pressed into
her side as they approached the boat where Helen already waited, the idea of
her dying somehow seemed surreal.

While a series
of fireworks rent the sky above the pier's buildings, Keelin calmly asked,
"Do you plan on shooting me?"

"Won't
have to," Weaver said with a brutish laugh. He pushed her forward so that
she went flying down into the boat. "I can take this baby far enough out
that you'll never be able to swim back."

Keelin heard
the last through a daze of pain. Crumpled on the floor where she'd landed
between the middle and back seats, she saw him jump down after her.

"What are
you talking about, Jack?" Helen asked nervously. "We only planned to
get Tyler's money, not kill anyone."

"Plans
change," Weaver said grimly, cranking the engine to life. "Here, hold
this on her. You let her go and it's your neck."

"Jack,
please..."

Still stunned,
Keelin pushed herself into a sitting position and noted that while the gun was
pointed her way, Helen seemed distracted. Truly upset. Her hands were shaking.
Perhaps she could capitalize on the fact.

"He's
using you, Helen," Keelin said as Weaver leaped up to the dock and began
untying one of the lines. "He was paid to find you."

"Shut
your mouth, bitch!"

Wide-eyed, her
face cast a sickly green by the mercury vapor lights, Helen said, "That's
not true, is it, Jack?"

"Of
course not, baby. She'd say anything to turn you against me."

The bastard
was so arrogant that when he lied he didn't even look at the woman he'd duped,
Keelin realized. Nor did he notice the movement in the shadows mere feet from
where he worked, his attention focused on untying the last line.

Heart
thrumming with sudden hope, Keelin pulled herself to her feet and pressed
Helen. "A crooked businessman named
Nate
Feldman
put Weaver up to finding you and seducing you to get at Tyler."

"I said
shut your damn mouth!" Weaver spun around, his attention now directed on
her. "Or maybe I won't wait to let the fish get you."

Another burst
of twinkling blue and white lights revealed a figure running toward them even
as Weaver hurled himself into the craft and took the wheel. Keelin nearly
fainted with relief when she realized the man was Tyler. The explosion of
accompanying sound covered his footsteps as the craft slowly turned, its prow
headed straight out toward the middle of the lake.

And then Tyler
leaped.

"Jack!"
Helen screamed too late.

Keelin's heart
was in her throat as Tyler flew through the air. His foot touched the side of
the boat; his momentum kept him sailing. Even as the villain turned, Tyler was
upon him, the thud on contact audible.

The men went
down in a heap, Tyler on top. But Weaver was a decade younger and undoubtedly
stronger considering his massive physique. Keelin held her breath as they
rolled in the confined space, arms flashing, the sound of fists contacting
flesh more imagined than heard beneath the increasing cacophony of the fireworks
display. Rockets were bursting in the sky as fast and furious as the men were
hitting each other.

Suddenly Tyler
flew back, arms flailing. And Weaver was instantly on his feet and after him.
Forgetting Helen for a moment, Keelin looked around wildly for something loose
that she could use as a weapon. Her gait was unsteady as the boat slowly
continued moving out into the lake.

Keelin was
wondering if a loose flotation cushion could do any damage when Helen ordered,
"Just stay put," as her lover pounded her ex-husband with his fists.

"Is that
what you want?" Keelin asked, revolted by the brutality. "You want to
see Tyler dead because he divorced you?"

"He stole
my child from me!"

"He
paid you
to stay out of your child's life
because he wanted to protect her. And you readily took his money."

The gun wasn't
even pointing at her anymore, Keelin realized. Helen's heart wasn't in this.
Cheryl's mother might be greedy, but she obviously wasn't given to violence.
This time, she'd chosen the wrong man to partner.

"Weaver's
been working for Feldman for a while." Keelin yelled to be heard. The
fireworks display was coming to a dramatic climax, layers of color building on
one another. "He made a few adjustments in one of Tyler's buildings that
was being renovated. The result was a child's death."

"You're
lying!"

"He would
have killed Cheryl if he'd had to!"

Helen's mouth
gaped, but she couldn't seem to force out a denial.

"Perhaps
he'll kill
you
for the money."

Suddenly
Weaver cried out. Keelin saw his head snap back and his body jerk. Tyler took
the advantage, grabbing the man by his shirt front and heaving him into the
windshield. A panicked Weaver scrambled over the glass and onto the hood of the
prow. Tyler vaulted onto a seat and followed.

Keelin held
her breath as the men tightly circled one another around the confined space.
Tyler found an opening. He clipped Weaver in the jaw, stunning and pummeling
him until the younger man fell prostrate over the bobbing prow.

Appearing
ready to pass out himself, Tyler stumbled toward them.

"Are you
all right?" Keelin yelled worriedly, rushing between the seats to meet
him.

Tyler leaned
forward, hands against the windshield, gasping for breath. "I'll
survive."

She reached up
and touched his bruised and bloody face. "Foolish, foolish man."

"I wasn't
about to chance living without the woman I love," he said, the unexpected
declaration thrilling her.

"She may
have to live without
you
!" came
a raspy voice from behind him.

Under a canopy
of colored brilliance combined with smoke that shadowed the sky as far as the
eye could see, the scenario played out in slow motion before Keelin's horrified
eyes.

Weaver was on
his feet, hand raised and grasping something gleaming and sharp. His energy
spent, Tyler obviously had to force himself to turn around to face the
aggressor once more. He exposed his chest even as the man's arm began its
downward arc.

Suddenly Jack
Weaver jerked and froze, a surprised grimace distorting his features. His chest
bloomed dark against his lighter shirt. His fist opened and the weapon fell,
clattering and slipping into the lake.

And, like a
felled tree, Weaver followed.

Keelin didn't
even hear the splash.

Then her gaze
flew to a dazed Helen, still pointing the gun straight where her lover had
stood.

"OUR FINAL REPORT IS AN UPDATE on
the disappearance and recovery of North Bluff teenager Cheryl Leighton,"
Skelly McKenna told his television audience. "A fantastic story of greed
and violence. A complex and far-reaching plot was allegedly hatched by
businessman
Nate
Feldman, seen here as police
arrested him early Sunday morning."

Snugged in the
crook of Tyler's arm at his home, Keelin watched
The Whole Story
with him, nervous about his reaction to her
cousin's coverage. Skelly focused on Feldman himself, leaving out the exact
details of Tyler's twelve-year monetary arrangement with Helen as well as
Keelin's own paranormal connection with Cheryl. His discretion surprised and
pleased her, though Keelin knew at least some of the details were bound to come
out during Feldman's trial. Helen had already pleaded guilty to kidnapping and
extortion, but also pleaded self-defense to her lover's death. Lake Michigan's
waters still cradled Weaver's body.

As far as anyone
had been able to tell, Vivian and Brock had only been involved peripherally,
and while in love with Brock, Pamela had remained professionally loyal both to
Tyler and L&O Realty, so Skelly never even made reference to them.

"In a
bizarre twist," Skelly went on, "Feldman is also allegedly
responsible for the unsecured porch railing that caused the death of Harry
Smialek
, the Wicker Park boy who died on an L&O Realty
renovation site..."

Tyler had
already received apologies from the
Smialeks
and had
learned that their lawsuit against L&O Realty had been instigated by one of
Feldman's lawyers.

To Keelin's
relief, Cheryl was more resilient than she imagined. The girl hadn't invaded
her dreams at all since the rescue. And, even now, Cheryl had insisted on being
with her friends since everything was back to "normal." Keelin knew
Tyler had made an appointment to take Cheryl to a family therapist, but
instinct told her the teenager would fully recover.

"At least
this story has a happy ending," Skelly was saying, the visual a shot of
Cheryl wrapped in a battered Tyler's arms.

And for her a
new beginning, Keelin thought, at last free of the guilt that had haunted her.
She had finally put the ghost of Gavin Daley to rest.

Skelly was on
camera once more. "Tomorrow, a story on Lily Lang,
The Blonde Bombshell
, who, convicted of murder, escaped from prison
thirty years ago this week."

Tyler pointed
the remote at the television and turned it off. "Maybe your cousin's not
quite the
sleazoid
I accused him of being."

Equally
pleased, Keelin agreed, "I think there's hope for Skelly yet." He'd
even asked for their blessing before doing the follow-up.

"What
about us? Is there hope for us?" Tyler asked, the question making her
heart leap.

Though they'd
professed their love for each after their night terror had ended, the last two
days had been divided up between the police and sleep, Cheryl's well-being and
Keelin's family matters. While Uncle Raymond had greeted his long-lost niece
with enthusiasm, Aileen had suggested she wait a bit before broaching the
subject of the reunion.

And, amidst
all the chaos, she and Tyler had not gotten around to discussing
them
.

We do come
from different worlds," she reminded him.

"But not
different planets. I'm sure you've heard of jet travel."

She frowned.
"You would be happy with a long distance relationship?"

"Certainly
not." He kissed her nose and tightened his grip on her. "The closer
the better. I meant we could be an international family with two homes if that
would make you happy."

Her pulse
raced and familiar yearnings filled her, yet Keelin argued, "Then there
are more personal differences."

His eyebrows
shot up. "You mean because you're a woman and I'm a man? I believe that's
the way it's supposed to be."

Not smiling at
his attempted humor, she said, "I come from a Catholic country."

He immediately
grew serious. "I'm open-minded and flexible. Isn't it possible to work
something out?"

Before meeting
Tyler, Keelin had never considered she might fall in love with someone outside
of her country, no less someone outside of her faith. Her Aunt Rose had faced
the same dilemma, and her determination to marry the man she loved had caused
the initial rift between the McKenna triplets. But Keelin understood exactly
how her aunt felt, for she was of the same mind. Tyler was a good man – for
herself, she could find none better.

"Two
people who love each other can always find a solution," she said solemnly.

"Like
marriage?"

She softened
in his arms. "Are you asking me to marry you, Tyler Leighton?"

"I am,
Keelin McKenna. Cheryl has already given her approval."

Keelin's heart
soared and the differences were forgotten. "Then we must hurry. Make plans
immediately–"

"Whoa."
Tyler laughed. "I believe the red tape might take more than a few days.
And what about your family? Don't you want to give your parents and siblings
enough time to get here?"

Suddenly
dreading what Da would have to say on the subject, not wanting to spoil the
moment by discussing his possible wrath, Keelin murmured, "Tis nearly a
month after my thirty-third birthday now. I cannot wait if I am to accept my
grandmother's legacy."

"And what
legacy would that be? If it's money you're worried about–"

"Money is
the last thing Moira McKenna would have worried over for her nine
grandchildren." She quoted, "'I leave you my love and more. Within
thirty-three days after your thirty-third birthday – enough time to know what
you are about – you will have in your grasp a legacy of which your dreams are
made. Dreams are not always tangible things, but more often are born in the
heart. Act selflessly in another's behalf, and my legacy shall be yours.'"