Deep Waters

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “You can bet we’ll all be there on the bluff.” Charity grabbed hold of her cart handle and prepared to escape. “Of course, if this fog doesn’t lift, we might not be able to see the starships arrive.”

  “Don’t worry,” Gwendolyn murmured. “The entire town will find out soon enough that something interesting has happened.”

  Nothing yields so easily as water, yet nothing is so powerful. He who seeks to follow the Way must first acknowledge his own strengths and weaknesses.

  Hayden Stone’s advice burned in Elias’s mind as he whirled through the last movement of the twisting, gliding pattern. He breathed out and allowed the leather belt to seek its target. The end of the belt struck with the speed and accuracy of a snake. It wrapped itself around the empty aluminum pop can and crushed it.

  Elias drew a deep breath and bent down to pick up the crumpled can. Not good. He had used too much force. His control was not what it should have been today.

  He walked to the edge of the bluff and looked out over the fog-shrouded cove.

  His timing and calculation had been off during the entire practice session, and it didn’t take an hour’s contemplation on the Way of Water to figure out why. Memories of last night kept getting in the way of his concentration.

  Elias gazed into the gray mist as the images crashed through his head.

  Charity sitting down beside him at the edge of the reflecting pool.

  Charity sliding her fingers through his hair as she offered him her mouth.

  Charity looking into his eyes and knowing what the news of Keyworth’s suicide attempt had done to him.

  Charity trembling with passion as she lay beneath him.

  He’d been wrong about one thing. There had been no problem making love to Charity on the futon. He could have made love to her on the floor or the beach or anywhere else, for that matter. The thing that worried him the most at the moment was not knowing when he would be able to make love to her again.

  The hot need simmered inside him. Last night had only whetted his appetite. Today, instead of satisfaction, there was only a deeper hunger.

  They had agreed that there would be no more games between them. But this morning she had made it clear that she was still prepared to play them. He knew why she had shied away from a full commitment to the affair they had begun during the night. It was as Hayden Stone had warned him years ago. A woman worth wanting always demanded a great deal in return.

  Elias knew that Charity wanted more than just good sex. She wanted his soul. She wanted to assure herself that she had true power over him.

  He became aware of the cooling perspiration on his bare shoulders. The elaborate movements of Tal Kek Chara had done little to alleviate the tension he had been feeling all day.

  He was still aware of the edgy feeling later that evening when he found himself in Charity’s kitchen. Elias saw right away that they were both going to play it cool. She was no longer intense and emotional the way she had been this morning when she had left his cottage. They were back to the easy flirtation that had characterized their relationship for the past several days.

  Just two friendly people involved in an affair. That was good, he assured himself. He wondered irritably why he did not feel incredibly relieved by the deliberately diminished tides of intensity.

  He lounged in the doorway of Charity’s kitchen and surveyed the wonderland of gleaming pans, Euro-style appliances, and high-tech gadgets. The kitchen matched the rest of the cottage, which was crammed with the sophisticated furnishings Charity had brought with her when she moved to the cove.

  It was all a far cry from the stark simplicity of his own place, Elias thought. But it was oddly pleasant to watch Charity work amid her sleek, colorful surroundings.

  Absently he swirled the chardonnay in his glass. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you what my lawyer, Craig Thorgood, learned about Gwendolyn Pitt and her Voyagers.”

  Charity shot him a surprised glance over her shoulder before she resumed whisking soy sauce, ginger, lime juice, and sherry in a bowl. “Anything interesting?”

  “Nothing startling. Just the guru business as usual. Gwendolyn has created a company called Voyager Investments. She’s the president, and Swinton is her sole employee.”

  Charity paused again in her whisking and looked thoughtful. “Then the money they’ve taken from the cult members is out there somewhere. It might be traceable.”

  Elias smiled faintly. “I think it’s a safe bet that it’s very traceable. I’m sure Gwendolyn and Swinton have it under close surveillance.”

  “Maybe some of the Voyagers can get it back after the spaceships fail to show up tonight. I have a feeling Arlene Fenton, for one, is going to be in desperate straits once she realizes she’s not bound for the stars. Newlin says she turned over everything in her bank account to the Voyagers organization.”

  “It wouldn’t be easy to retrieve anyone’s assets without the cooperation of Pitt or Swinton. And I doubt if either of them will be inclined to cooperate.”

  “They probably plan to take the money and run,” Charity agreed. “Although Gwendolyn Pitt said something strange today in the grocery store.”

  “What was that?”

  “Something about the entire town finding out soon that something interesting had happened tonight.”

  “I don’t doubt it. The only question is, why is today’s date so important to her?” Elias caught the fragrance of the ginger and inhaled appreciatively. “Are you going to tell me what’s on the menu?”

  “Vegetable sushi, roasted red pepper salad, and a nectarine and blueberry tart.”

  “I don’t believe it. You talked the store manager into stocking nori?”

  Charity smiled. “I didn’t spend all those years running Truitt for nothing. I’ve had plenty of experience in the art of the deal.”

  “I can see that the competition is heating up. This could get ugly. Or maybe I should say tasty.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something amusingly unpretentious yet elegant when it’s your turn to cook. I can see you doing a dish of stunning simplicity that is infused with flavors that retain their integrity even as they enhance the other elements involved.”

  “Let me guess. You’ve been reading food magazines, haven’t you?”

  “Yep.” She dropped the whisk into the sink. “I also saw the second Mrs. Pitt in the grocery store this afternoon. A touch of animosity between the first and the second. I was lucky I didn’t get crushed between their shopping carts.”

  “Not surprising.”

  “No.”

  Elias sipped his wine. “I’ve got to admit, I’m getting a little curious about Gwendolyn’s plans.”

  “Join the crowd.”

  “But I’m even more curious about Rick Swinton.”

  “Why the special interest in him?”

  “Because he’s interested in me.”

  Charity paused, cocked a brow, and gave him a look. “Funny. I wouldn’t have said that you were each other’s type.”

  “I used the word in the other sense. Apparently Swinton has some questions about me. He searched my house on Friday night.”

  “He what?” Charity whirled around, her eyes huge. “You’re joking. He went through your things? How do you know?”

  “I got a pretty big clue when I stood in my garden and watched him crawl out of my house through the front window.”

  “Good lord.” Charity put down the small bowl, turned her back to the counter, and braced herself against the tiled edge. “That’s incredible. I can hardly believe it.”

  “He seemed a little nervous, but I got the impression it wasn’t the first time he’d entertained himself with an evening of B and E. After he finished at my house, he went down to Charms & Virtues and took a look around.”

  “That’s outrageous. Absolutely outrageous. Did he take anything?”

  “No.”

  “Did you call Chief Tybern?”

  “No.”

  She spre
ad her hands. “But what he did was illegal. You can’t just ignore it.”

  “I figure Swinton and I will be even in the breaking and entering category after tonight.”

  “Wait a second. You don’t mean that you plan to … to—”

  “Search his motor home while everyone’s watching the show down on the beach?” Elias swallowed the last of his wine. “Yes. That’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  Charity decided that the scene on the bluff at eleven-thirty that night was a cross between a low-budget horror film and a carnival. The special effects consisted primarily of fog. The thick stuff blanketed the waters of the cove and swirled around the herd of vehicles occupied by the sightseers from town.

  The Voyagers’ RVs and trailers loomed in the mist. The weak lamps above the entrance to the campground rest rooms glowed bravely, but the light did not penetrate far.

  From what Charity could discover, the Voyagers were all down on the beach. She could hear their hypnotic chants rising and falling above the sound of the gentle waves. The flute player was still off-key, she noticed. The drummer was trying to compensate with volume. The fog reflected an eerie glow created by flashlights and camp lanterns.

  Charity glanced back over her shoulder at the array of cars and trucks parked along the bluff. Most of the town had turned out to see the Voyagers off on their trip through the galaxy. Many adults waited inside their vehicles or visited with friends. A few men had gathered near the entrance to the primary bluff path. They were drinking beer and roaring with laughter. Dozens of small children dashed about playing tag in front of the first row of parked cars.

  The teenage contingent had braved the chill and the fog to cluster near the fence that overlooked the beach. Their shouts and jokes mingled with the serious chants of the Voyagers. Several drank cans of soda that they had purchased from the tailgate refreshment stand Bea and Yappy had set up.

  Radiance had joined the teenagers to hang over the railing. Ted, sporting a T-shirt that read Beam Me Up Scotty, There’s No Intelligent Life Down Here, was keeping Bea and Yappy company. Newlin’s beat-up pickup was parked on the outskirts of the gathering. He had apparently elected to stay inside the truck until midnight arrived.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Charity asked for the fiftieth time.

  “How hard can it be?” Elias led the way between two rows of RVs. “Breaking and entering is not what you’d call a high-tech profession. At least, not the way I plan to do it.”

  “What if you get caught?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “I told you to wait in the car.”

  She scowled at his sleek back. “I’m not going to let you handle this alone.”

  “Then stop whining.”

  “I’m not whining.” She pulled the collar of her jacket higher around her neck and peered anxiously into the foggy darkness between two trailers. “I’m merely attempting to bring an element of common sense to this situation.”

  “It sure sounds like whining.”

  That did it. Charity set her teeth. She had used every reasonable argument she could think of to dissuade him from this reckless project. And he had the nerve to accuse her of being a whiner. She vowed she would not say another word on the subject, not even if he got himself arrested and called her to bail him out of jail.

  Elias turned down a narrow, grassy aisle between two rows of campers and came to a halt with no warning. Charity stumbled against him with a muffled gasp. He reached out to steady her.

  “Quiet,” he whispered into her ear.

  Charity shoved hair out of her eyes and leaned around him to see what had brought him to a sudden stop. She recognized Rick Swinton’s maroon and white motor home parked in the last line of RVs.

  “Change your mind?” she asked hopefully.

  “No. Someone else got there first.”

  Charity stared at the darkened windows. “Are you sure?”

  “Watch that rear window.”

  She studied the dark glass. A dim light shone briefly against the drawn curtains and then vanished. A moment later it reappeared for a few seconds. Charity swallowed.

  “Flashlight?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “But it can’t be Swinton. He’s down on the beach with the others. We saw him join the crowd a few minutes ago.”

  “Right. Besides, Swinton wouldn’t be using a flashlight in his own motor home.”

  Charity felt her mouth drop open. She closed it hurriedly. “My God. Someone else is in there doing just what you planned to do.”

  “It’ll be interesting to see who comes out of there.” Elias shifted position and pulled Charity into the small space between a trailer and a large camper.

  She winced when her knee struck the trailer hitch. “Damn.”

  “Quiet. Whoever is in there is leaving.” He eased her deeper into the shadows.

  The door of the motor home squeaked as it opened. A figure in a hooded coat appeared and quickly went down the two steps to the ground. Charity tried to make out the face of the intruder, but the hood and the foggy darkness combined to make identification impossible.

  The figure turned and hurried down the lane between two rows of RVs. The route would take the intruder straight past the spot where Charity and Elias stood.

  Elias pressed Charity against the side of the trailer. She realized that he was using his body to shield her in case the fleeing figure glanced back into the shadows.

  She stood on tiptoe to see over the barrier of Elias’s arm and managed to catch another glimpse of the cloaked figure. There was something in the way the intruder moved that told her she was watching a woman flee the scene.

  Elias waited a long moment before he shifted to release Charity. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

  “You can say that again.” Charity was violently aware of her own pulse. “I wonder who she was.”

  “I have a feeling that Swinton has all kinds of enemies. I’d better get in and out before someone else shows up to take a look around.” Elias stepped away. “Wait here.”

  “You’re not going in there alone.”

  “I need you outside to keep watch.”

  That sounded reasonable. Charity couldn’t think of a good counterargument. “Well, what should I do if I see someone?”

  “Knock once on the outside wall of the motor home.” Elias took one last look around the fog-shrouded scene as he removed a pencil-slim flashlight from the pocket of his jacket. “I’ll be right back.”

  “If you don’t come out of there in five minutes, I’ll come in and drag you out.”

  Elias’s teeth flashed briefly in the darkness. “Okay.” He moved toward the door of the motor home.

  Charity leaned around the corner to watch as he went up the steps and let himself inside.

  A chilling silence descended when Elias disappeared. It seemed to Charity that the fog grew heavier. She told herself that was a good thing because it helped conceal Elias’s shockingly illegal activities.

  The chants from the beach intensified. The drums and flute played louder. The shouts and laughter of the watching teenagers drifted across the campground.

  There was no sound from inside Swinton’s motor home. No light was visible at the windows. Whatever Elias was doing, he was doing with great discretion. Charity shivered, partly from the chill and partly from increasing anxiety. The oppressive sense of impending danger thickened together with the fog.

  Down below on the beach, the drummer went into a lengthy riff that carried clearly up the side of the bluff. The throbbing, pulsating chants of the excited Voyagers echoed loudly. Someone honked a horn. The teenagers’ raucous laughter grew more strident. Charity heard the snap and pop of firecrackers.

  After what seemed hours, the motor home door cracked open. Relief washed through Charity when she saw Elias jump lightly to the ground. He came toward her, moving with swift, silent grace.

  “Come on,
let’s get out of here.” He took her arm.

  She didn’t argue. “You were in there forever. Did you find anything?”

  “Maybe.”

  She glanced at him as he hurried her through the maze of silent recreational vehicles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I got some bank account numbers. Ever notice how people tend to let their bank statements pile up in a desk drawer?”

  “No.” Charity hesitated, recalling the stack of statements she had filed in a desk drawer at home. “On second thought, maybe I have noticed. What of it? What good are the account numbers?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Elias paused at the intersection of two lanes of campers. “But with an operation this big, you know everything is going through a bank.”

  “Hmm. You’re right.”

  More firecrackers popped in the darkness. The Voyagers’ chants reached a feverish pitch. The rowdy males who had gathered to drink beer near the bluff path began calling loudly down to the people on the beach. The younger set jeered and shouted.

  “Things are getting exciting,” Elias remarked as they moved out from behind the last row of vehicles.

  “It’s almost midnight.” Charity glanced around. “And surprise, surprise, not a spaceship in sight. Let’s go find Newlin. I want to be with him when the time comes, just in case Arlene doesn’t rush into his arms.”

  “Right.”

  They made their way along the bluff to where Newlin had parked his pick-up. The battered truck was located in the outermost section of the makeshift parking lot. Nearly everyone else who had driven out to watch the spectacle had parked much closer to the campground.

  The pickup was almost invisible in the fog. Charity went to the window on the driver’s side and frowned when she saw that Newlin was not inside.

  “He must have gone to the fence to wait for Arlene to come back from the beach,” Elias said.

  “Yes.” The brief, sharp blast of an automobile horn made Charity jump. Someone cursed.

  She turned and saw that there was one other vehicle parked a short distance away. Another truck. The passenger door was open, but there was no light inside the cab. The sound of the town’s one and only rock station spilled forth into the night.