Waiting... On You (Force Recon Marines) (14 page)

“Very impressive.” Following her
onboard, he trailed his fingers over the shiny brass railing. “Someone did an
excellent job of restoring it.”

“Your brother,” Hanna informed him,
beaming with pleasure. “He’s so skilled with these old wooden boats he salvages
and repairs. He gave this one to me.”

Nick shot her an astonished glance.
“He gave this boat to you?”

“Yeah, for my birthday last year.” Her
face was full of loving admiration as she stopped at the helm and ran her
slender fingers around the rim of the big brass steering wheel. “He picked it
up for practically nothing at an auction, then refurbished it. I loved it from
the moment I saw him working on it. It’s got so much character. And it sails
like a dream. I can handle it by myself, it’s so maneuverable and seaworthy.”

“That’s some birthday present. It must
be worth quite a bit of money now that it’s restored. Wooden boats are highly
prized by a lot of sailing enthusiasts.”

“Oh, I’d never sell it,” she said,
unaware of the veil of displeasure that had settled over Nick’s features.

She pointed toward a small door that
was the entry to the cabin below deck. “Want to see the rest of it?”

“Sure.” Nick followed her below,
angling his wide shoulders through the narrow doorway and down the short
companionway.

Below, there was a small functional
galley that consisted of a three-burner stove, a refrigerator, sink, counter
space, a few cupboards, and a table with bench seats that folded down into a
double bed. Behind one of the bench seats, there was a small, drop-down,
navigational desk, with some rather expensive electronic equipment. A head,
complete with a small shower was wedged into one corner of the cabin, near the
stairway.

Beneath the foredeck, there was a
master bedroom or bunk. Hanna showed Nick where she slept when she took her
boat out overnight.

“By yourself?”

She looked back at him over her
shoulder, bemused. “I’ve never spent the night on her with anyone.”

He was behind her, close behind her,
scanning the room. Essentially, it was all bed, designed to fit the triangular,
trapezoid shape of the bow of the boat. On either side of the room’s louvered
double doors, there were two long narrow clothes closets. Hanna opened them to
show him that one was for hanging clothes, and one was fitted with drawers for
folded clothes. The walls, ceiling, cabinets, and doors were all made of teak
wood. The fixtures were brass. On either side of the bed, there were portal windows
that could be opened to let in the sea breeze.

The late afternoon sun was filtering
through them at the moment, casting the room in a warm rich glow. The highly
polished brass accessories caught the sunlight in glinting gold tones.

Hanna moved to sit on the end of the
bed with a big smile and a wave of her hand. “She’s lovely, isn’t she? I never
get to spend enough time on her.”

Nick was more enthralled with the
woman than the boat. “She, huh? What did you name her?”

“The Emerald Mermaid.” She searched
his expression for his reaction. “Do you like her?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I do. It fits
you.”

Her smile widened to create two small
dimples in her flushed cheeks. “So when do you want to take her out?”

He stared at her, wanting to take her,
not her boat. She had taken her wetsuit off once they were finished diving, and
she looked sexy as hell in her low-cut red bathing suit, although she’d put her
shorts back on. She was as irresistible and as tempting now as she had been
four hours ago. A vision of pressing her backwards onto her bed and covering
her slender body with his made his hands clench in his pockets.

Summoning some hard-won discipline, he
turned toward the main room, away from her and temptation. “How about tomorrow?
We could sail her to Shelter Island.”

Hanna got up off the bed and followed
him. He was standing at her navigational desk, looking at her electronic
equipment. “That’s not far enough to really open her up and let her fly.”

He heard the disappointment in her
voice, and turned to look at her. “Guess we’ll have to sail her to Seattle
then. I need to talk to Kurt soon anyway.”

“How about this weekend?”

“That sounds good.”

Pleased, she climbed the stairway to
the upper deck. Nick followed her up, so completely distracted by the motion of
her curvaceous bottom, he banged his head on the low ceiling.

Hanna turned when she heard him curse.
“You have to remember to duck. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, emerging
behind her. Good lord! What an idiot he was! He’d been on numerous boats
before, and he should have remembered to duck even if the view ahead of him had
been distracting.

She smiled, then walked around to
check her rigging straps and give everything one last loving survey before
disembarking.

Nick watched her captivated by the way
the sun reflected the lighter shades of gold in her hair. The ocean breeze was
playing havoc with it, blowing the fine strands across her bottle green eyes,
which were sparkling with pleasure as she inspected her sailboat. She took his
breath away, she was so lovely.

Images of the two of them naked
together in that big odd-shaped bed under the foredeck hit him with such a
powerful punch of desire, he guided her off her boat before it got too strong
to resist.

“Do you still have your two-man dingy?”
His question about her two-man sailboat got his mind off pulling her into his
arms and kissing her senseless.

“Yes. I keep it in the barn at the
house. Since I’ve gotten this, I haven’t used it much, except to give
Christopher sailing lessons.”

They were back at the Zodiac. Nick
assisted her over the side, then untied the rope from the cleat bolted on the
edge of the dock. At the cockpit, he started the engine, then steered the
rubber boat out of the marina, toward McHenry Point and home.

“How’s Christopher doing?”

“With?” Hanna took a seat on the floor
again and pulled on her sweatshirt since it was getting noticeably cooler.

“Sailing lessons, school, life,” he
clarified.

“He’s going to be a sailor, like
everyone else in our two families.” Her smile was a revelation of her love for
Lance’s son. “He’s in special education classes at school, and he does fairly
well. His speech and academics are significantly delayed, but he’s a happy,
well-adjusted, little boy. That’s what counts.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Was it the
cocaine Elaine was sniffing that caused him to be delayed?”

“Yes.” Hanna shook her head sadly.
“There isn’t a day that goes by that Lance doesn’t feel guilty about that, too.
He blames himself for not knowing about her habit earlier.” Hanna looked at
Nick, her green eyes full of sadness. “How can a mother do that to her son?”

“I don’t know, Hanna. I don’t
understand it any more than you. And does she even miss him, or care what a
great kid he is?”

“I guess not. She’s never tried to
contact him or Lance. She could be dead for all we know. It’s so sad. That’s
why the sheriff’s theory that Lance went in search of his ex-wife is so
ridiculous.”

“You’re pretty close to Christopher I
take it?”

“Yeah, I really love that little guy.”

“And his Dad?” Nick threw the inquiry
out, hoping to better understand his brother’s relationship with Hanna.

“Oh, Heavens, Lance adores
Christopher. And vice versa.” Hanna looked out across the water. “We’ve just
got to find Lance alive and well. I can’t bear to think of him dead!”

He studied her quietly, wishing he’d
had the nerve to ask her straight out if she was in love with his brother. But
whether she was or wasn’t, he wanted to find Lance alive and well as badly as
she did.

On the way home, Nick made one last
dive into a small cove just south of McHenry Point. The crab pots he inspected
were as unrevealing as the ones they had investigated earlier, except that he
found two more fishing rod tubes, partially buried in the silty bottom. They
were both like the one Hanna had found lower in the bay nearly a week ago. They
were just as empty, too. Strange, though, that they should look exactly alike
and be found in two separate locations.

At dusk, hungry and tired, they headed
home and made plans to head back out tomorrow to explore Shelter Island.

CHAPTER
10

HANNA’S EIGHT-FOOT, TWO-MAN DINGY was
an uncomplicated way to learn to sail and to enjoy the essence of sailing.
Hanna had owned the two-man dingy for years and kept it in good repair. She
seldom used it anymore, except to give Christopher sailing lessons, but she
couldn’t bring herself to part with it.

Made of fiberglass, it was lightweight
enough that she and Nick were able to carry it from the barn to the beach. Once
in the water, Nick took the rudder position in the rear, and Hanna sat near the
bow and handled the two sails. They were seated in the same positions they had
taken as kids when they had sailed the family dinghies up and down the
coastline, from McHenry Point to Port Angeles.

That was so long ago, and yet it
seemed like yesterday, Hanna thought as she looked down the boom at Nick. They
would pack a lunch, sometimes sleeping bags, then sail off like great
adventurers. Neither family had ever worried much about their safety, and
Colleen had trusted the boys completely with her granddaughter’s. Their
adventures had always been so exciting. With the boys, she’d felt normal. They had
treated her like one of them, and she’d loved it.

Of course, even then, at eight, she
would have followed Nick Kelly anywhere, and she had, devotedly. He had been
her hero, her champion, her friend. And she had been his shadow, rather like
Christopher was now. By thirteen, she had also desperately wanted him to be her
boyfriend, but at seventeen, he’d been too busy with girls his own age. So,
Hanna had settled for simply friend. Their senior prom was the closest she’d
ever come to having him as a boyfriend.

So why was it, she wondered, that she
still hoped he might one day be more than a friend? What fed that hope? Was it
the fact that he had written to her so faithfully over the last twenty years?
Or that when he was home, he always made a point of spending time with her? And
what about the last time he’d been home? For a brief night, he’d been more than
a friend. Had their interlude meant anything to him? Did he relive it over and
over the way she did? She’d been scared to death to even bring it up in the
past three years. Nick had alluded to it occasionally in his letters, but she
hadn’t been able to bring herself to write about it long distance.

Maybe some of her eternal optimism had
to do with the fact that he had never married or been serious about a woman.
Until that happened, she could still wish that someday he’d come to realize
that she was in love with him, and that maybe he could fall in love with her.
The plain fact was that she was probably holding on to a foolish dream that had
a snowball’s chance in hell of ever coming true. But, oh when she was with him
like this, she couldn’t stop herself from indulging in the fantasies!

Halfway between McHenry Point and Shelter
Island, their destination came into clear view. Shelter Island was mostly a
wildlife preserve. It was home to hundreds of species of birds, a large colony
of harbor seals, some sea lions, and the playful otters that swam the waters at
this end of the Olympic Peninsula.

Hanna looked around the billowing
sails to the island. They were coming up fast on it. On a clear day, you could
see the island from her second story bedroom window. No diving today, though.
Just spying, she thought with a whimsical smile.

“What brought on another one of those
secret little smiles of yours?” Nick asked as he stared across the little boat
at her. “You have to give me at least give me a clue.”

He looked so adorable trying to wheedle
the information out of her that she couldn’t resist telling him this time. “I
was just thinking what a bad influence on me you are,” she teased, ogling him
behind her dark prescription sunglasses. He was wearing his swim trunks and an
olive-green Marine issue t-shirt, with the sleeves cut out again. As always, he
looked so gorgeous he made her pulse do double-time. “You’re going to teach me
how to become a spy today.”

“You’ll probably love it,” he assured
her, his eyes unreadable behind his own dark glasses. “You were always putting
stories to our adventures when we went exploring as kids.”

“And you were our fearless protector,
the captain of our crew.” She adjusted the sails to match the adjustment of the
rudder he made.

“I don’t know about fearless,” he
chuckled. “I was just trying to keep your brother and mine from getting us into
too much trouble. Those two had a knack for mischief.”

Hanna agreed with a nod and a smile.
“Your good judgment saved our butts more than a few times us, though. I’m sure
that’s why grandma let me tag along with the three of you. She knew you’d keep
us all safe.”

Nick gave a short, self-depreciating
laugh. “I haven’t done much of that recently, have I?”

“We’re all grown up now. We’re not
supposed to need you. We’re supposed to take care of ourselves.”

Hanna tried to believe what she said.
She wasn’t supposed to need Nick. But she did. Then she thought of her brother.
He certainly had been able to take care of himself, but whoever had killed him,
hadn’t given him the chance to defend himself, not if they’d hit him on the
back of the head.

Even if they did find out what
happened to him, they couldn’t bring him back. The finality of his early death
was something that she was never going to completely get over. It had been six
weeks since he had died, but she was still deeply grieved over his loss from
her life. Sometimes it hurt so bad, she wanted to cry out in pain and anger.
The injustice of it was like a wound that refused to heal. And she was so very
frightened for Lance, too. She prayed all the time that they would find him
alive.

Nick was watching her, as he had been
since they had set sail. Even behind her dark glasses, her emotions played
visibly across her sun-kissed face. She was seldom able to hide her feelings
from him. “Thinking about Dylan?”

“Yes,” she admitted sadly. “And about
Lance.”

Tears clogged her voice, and he knew
they must be shimmering in her eyes as well. “We’ll find him, Hanna.”

“Oh, I hope so, Nick.” Turning toward
the sea breeze, she let the wind dry her tear tracks. “Unfortunately nothing
will bring back Dylan.”

“Finding his killer and getting
justice for his death will help a little bit.”

This time her
I hope so
was a
silent prayer.

Shelter Island wasn’t large, just a
long finger of land that ran east and west. Most of the shoreline was nothing
more than piles of wave battered rocks and sharply defined cliffs rising out of
the ocean. The colony of harbor seals that called the island home were perched
on the rocks on the western end. Signs that declared the island as a wildlife
preserve were posted on the grassy cliff tops. Nick steered the dingy towards
the eastern end, and brought it ashore on a small strip of sandy beach.

Hanna helped him pull it up far enough
onto the beach so the tide wouldn’t take it back out. Then they unloaded their
gear. It wasn’t much— a big blanket, a wicker picnic basket, and a canvas beach
bag that Hanna slung over her shoulder. It clanked and rattled when she did so,
and she wondered what Nick had put inside. Some of his high tech military toys,
no doubt.

At the foot of a steep sand dune that
was covered with knee-high beach grass, sand-dwelling wildflowers, and
driftwood, he took it from her and slung it over his own shoulder. They climbed
to the top, and a blue heron with a six foot wingspan flew from the far side of
the dune, close over their heads. Startled, Hanna cried out with surprise, then
laughter. Black oystercatchers scurried back and forth on the beach behind
them, and when she turned at their distinctive calls to one another, she caught
a distant glimpse of Hurricane Ridge, rising in the distance, on the mainland.
Its snow-capped peak was often shrouded in fog, but today, it was clearly and
breathtakingly visible. Hanna had lived here all her life, but its natural
beauty never failed to enchant her.

At the top of the sand hill, they saw
Yancy Master’s house in the distance. It had been built at the turn of the
century by a wealthy shipping magnate. It was a Georgian style, two-story
house, connected to a four-car garage by a long partially glassed conservatory.
The estate stood in the middle of a couple acres of tall, wind-swept grasses
that were dotted here and there with knobby Sitka spruce. A ten-foot-high,
chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire, enclosed the house and grounds.
Hanna thought it was probably electrified, too.

On the down side of the dune, Nick and
Hanna hiked up another beyond it that was capped by a stand of trees. Shaking
their blanket out, Nick laid it down on the grass between the trees. Once he
sat down, he reached into the beach bag Hanna placed next to him and pulled out
a small scope. Next a directional mike came out, equipped with an earphone,
which he wedged into one ear. Last, he pulled out a telephoto lens camera.

Hanna sat down next to him and peeked
into the bag. There was still a big black handgun inside and the wicked-looking
knife he called his Ka-Bar. She turned her interest to the equipment he was
tinkering with.

“What is all that?”

Nick motioned her closer. “Come here,
and I’ll show you how to use these things. You’re going to have to help me
anyway.”

“What do you want me to do?”

He handed her the telescope. “Sweep
the area and see what you can find that looks interesting, then we’ll take a
few photos.”

Nick rolled onto his stomach, and
Hanna followed his example, resting her elbows on the blanket as she looked
through the telescope. So close beside her his shoulder touched hers, Nick
showed her how to adjust the scope. It was more powerful than anything she had
ever used. “Wow! I think I can even see through the windows, into the house,
with this.”

“And with the directional mike, I can
pick up noise and conversations at really long ranges, even behind most walls.
I should be able to hear anyone at the house, at least if they’re on this
side.”

“And that gun in the bag?”

“Strictly defensive. I doubt we’ll
need it.”

“The security patrol might spot us.”
Hanna looked for them, but found no one.

“We’re just tourists picnicking. We’re
not even on their property.”

Nick turned on his listening device
and got down to business. Lying on their stomachs for a good half hour, braced
on their elbows, side by side, they silently watched and listened. For Hanna,
the only distraction was Nick himself. One warm, bare muscled arm was pressed
along hers. He was so close, she could smell him, even hear him breathe. At one
point, his hard hairy leg moved against hers and stayed there. Hanna’s pulse
sped up and perspiration trickled between her breasts, in spite of the fact it
wasn’t even remotely hot.

Nick finally turned over and
jack-knifed into a sitting position. He was reaching for the picnic basket when
Hanna turned and sat up more slowly next to him. She stared at him quizzically,
wondering if he had felt her pulse racing.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her,
reaching into the basket.

“Sure,” she answered, trying valiantly
not to let her voice tremble the way her hands were as she helped him unpack
the wicker basket, then make up two paper plates of food.

“What do you hope to discover here?”
she asked as she got a hold of her emotions and took a bite of her sandwich.

Nick handed her a cold can of soda. “I
don’t know. But Yancy’s Bar and Grill didn’t buy this estate.”

“How about his gambling winnings?”

“That paid for his bar, according to
the title company that handled the purchase. He paid cash— no loans.”

“He may have had some left over.” She
opened the bag of chips and popped one in her mouth.

“Not according to his bank
statements,” he said after a long swallow of his soda. “In fact, he struggled
the first year he was open, to the point that he almost lost the bar. He had no
financial cushion.”

Hanna was amazed. “When and how did
you find out all of this?”

Nick wiggled his dark eyebrows as he
took a big bite of his sandwich. “I’ve learned all sorts of tricks on the
computer over the years.” He grabbed a handful of chips from the bag she passed
him and placed them on his paper plate. “When I take on a mission, I learn all
I can about every detail of it. I do as much of my own intel as possible. I
spent last week working at home on the phone and the computer.”

“Impressive.” She went into the wicker
picnic basket for the zip locked bag of oatmeal and raisin cookies that she’d
made last night, knowing they were Nick’s favorite.

“I’m still working on getting more
info on Yancy, the sheriff, and good old Phillip. In fact, you and I are going
to take a trip to Seattle tomorrow to see Kurt. He should have his background
checks done on the sheriff and the police chief by then, and I’d like him to
run one on Yancy Masters. I also want to take those fishing rod tubes with us.”

“Why? They were empty.”

He took a big cookie from the bag she
handed him. “I want Kurt to see them and have some residue tests run on them.”