“Mayor Dartmoor emphasized that the Voyagers would be gone by the fifteenth of August and suggested that no more council time or public funds be wasted on efforts to force the group to leave—” Liz broke off as a soft buzz of speculation rippled through the crowd. She glowered at the audience above the rims of her reading glasses, but no one noticed. Everyone was too busy staring at the doorway of the council chamber.
Charity felt the hair on the back of her neck stir. She turned her head and saw Yappy, Ted, and Newlin saunter into the room and take seats in the last row. Newlin gave her a cheerful wave across the heads of the onlookers.
Then she saw Elias. He didn’t join the other three men in the back of the room. Instead, he came toward her down the aisle between the seats. His eyes never left hers.
“The issue of the renaming of Crazy Otis Landing was brought up again,” Liz read very loudly. “A committee was established to look into the matter. Gabe Saunders put forth the idea of purchasing the pier from the new owner, whoever that proved to be. The committee assigned to investigate renaming of the pier was told to check into the possibility of an outright purchase.”
Elias sank into the empty seat next to Charity and gave his full attention to the council session in progress.
Charity did not like the grimness of his expression. She frowned and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“You know me, enigmatic, mysterious, and unpredictable.”
“You’re still in a lousy mood, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
People were beginning to stare. Charity gave up in disgust and straightened in her seat.
Liz Roberts concluded the reading of the minutes and sat down. Phyllis rose. She gave Elias an approving look.
“I’m pleased to see that we have the new owner of Crazy Otis Landing here with us tonight,” she said. There was a murmur of interest from the crowd. “Given the importance of the pier to the future of this town, I think we should proceed directly to the committee report. Gabe?”
Gabe Saunders, a wiry little man who looked as if he should wear a green eyeshade and who was, in fact, a certified public accountant, got to his feet. He cleared his throat and picked up his report.
“I’ll begin with the renaming issue. Your Honor, as you know, the names Sunset Landing and Indigo Landing have both been suggested for the pier. The committee selected Indigo Landing on the grounds that it had more of an upscale ring to it.”
Charity leaped to her feet. “Hold on here, you can’t just rename the landing by fiat. That pier is private property.”
Beside her Bea and Radiance muttered angrily to themselves. The audience murmured appreciatively. Charity knew that it was preparing to be entertained with another skirmish between herself and Phyllis.
Phyllis gave Charity a frosty smile. “You can hardly object to a new name for Crazy Otis Landing.”
“On behalf of the Crazy Otis Landing Shopkeepers Association, I want to make it clear that we most certainly do object,” Charity said firmly. “The present name has character and a uniquely whimsical quality which we feel will appeal to tourists. We like it, and we intend to keep it.”
Phyllis’s eyes narrowed. “You heard the committee report. Everyone agrees that Crazy Otis Landing sounds too unsophisticated to attract the high-end tourist market.”
“I don’t care what the committee decided,” Charity said. “You can’t rename the pier without permission of the owner.”
“True.” Phyllis fixed Elias with a determined smile. “And since he’s here tonight, I suggest we ask him what he thinks about renaming the property.”
Hushed expectation smoldered in the room. Everyone looked toward Elias.
“Well?” Charity glowered down at him. “Say something.”
Elias glanced at her and then looked at Phyllis and the rest of the council. “The current name suits the pier. We’ll keep it.”
Phyllis scowled. Another murmur went through the crowd. There was a smattering of applause.
Charity sat down with a sense of triumph. Radiance and Bea grinned at her. In the back row Newlin let out a whoop.
Gabe Saunders scowled. “The mayor’s right. It doesn’t sound real sophisticated, Mr. Winters.”
“The pier isn’t what anyone would call real sophisticated,” Elias pointed out.
Laughter greeted that observation.
Phyllis banged the gavel for silence. “That brings us to the second issue before the committee. Gabe, you agreed to check out the possibility of making an offer for the pier. What did you conclude?”
Gabe shrugged. “Like I told you yesterday, Phyllis, we can afford to do it if we want, provided it’s for sale and assuming Mr. Winters doesn’t inflate his asking price above current market value.”
Charity prodded Elias’s arm. “Tell them you aren’t interested in selling.”
Elias gave her a laconic look. Then he turned obediently back to the council. “The pier isn’t for sale.”
Another ripple of conversation passed over the crowd. It was louder this time. Charity noticed Tom Lancaster, the editor of the Cove Herald, scribbling swiftly on a notepad.
Phyllis frowned at Elias. “Are you absolutely sure about that, Mr. Winters? The town is prepared to make a reasonable offer.”
Charity shot back up to her feet. “You heard him. He just told you the pier is not for sale.”
Phyllis’s mouth tightened with barely restrained anger. “I was under the impression that Elias, here, actually owned the pier, not you, Charity. Would you mind very much if he spoke for himself?”
“She’s doing a pretty good job of speaking for me,” Elias said very politely. “Might as well let her finish.”
Someone gave a snort of laughter. The crowd tittered. Charity felt herself turn crimson as she subsided into her chair.
“I believe we’ll table this issue until next month.” Phyllis smiled coldly and turned to another member of the council. “Clark, would you please give us the report of the Fair committee?”
Clark Rogers rose to his feet.
Elias did, too. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the council chamber. Charity watched uneasily.
An hour later at the conclusion of the council session, she joined her fellow shopkeepers on the front steps of the town hall. Everyone was jubilant.
“Hope that settles the thing once and for all,” Bea said. “It’ll be all over town by tomorrow morning that we told the mayor and the council to their faces that the pier was not for sale.”
Ted yawned. “Sure hope it’s the last time I have to sit through one of those council meetings. Damned boring.”
“I don’t think Crazy Otis Landing will be on the agenda again anytime soon,” Radiance said. “Elias made it clear that he’s not interested in renaming the pier and he’s not open to offers.”
“Glad he decided to attend the meeting tonight. Nothing like having the new owner of the pier make a public statement to put the rumors to rest,” Yappy said.
“Right,” Ted nodded. “Only way to stop the gossip—” He broke off at the sound of high heels clicking on the cement steps. “Evening, Phyllis. We were just talking about how the results of tonight’s meeting should put paid to a lot of the rumors that have been goin’ around lately.”
“If you believe that, Ted, you’re in for a surprise.” Phyllis came to a halt on the steps and pinned Charity with a seething expression. “A lot of fresh gossip is just getting started. Maybe you haven’t heard it yet, but I’m sure you will soon enough after what happened tonight.”
Charity groaned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have to ask?” Phyllis gave her a derisive smile. “I should think you’d be able to figure it out for yourself. Everyone saw Elias Winters say exactly what you told him to say tonight. And everyone knows you’re having an affair with him. People are bound to assume that you’re sleeping with him in order to influence his decisions
concerning the pier.”
Charity sucked in her breath. “That’s not true.”
The men gaped.
“That’s an outright lie,” Radiance declared.
Bea drew herself up. “How dare you imply such a thing?”
Phyllis gave her a grimly polite smile. “I’m only telling you what other people are saying. Personally, I don’t believe a word of it, myself.”
“I should think not,” Bea muttered.
“After all,” Phyllis said, “Anyone who knows anything about the Far Seas Corporation knows that Charity wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of seducing the president of that company with the goal of influencing his business decisions.”
“Christ, Phyllis.” Ted looked pained. “That’s playing it a little rough, isn’t it?”
She rounded on him. “You think I’m playing rough? Well, let me tell you, Winters is the cold-blooded one. Charity may think she’s in control of the situation, but my hunch is that Elias is just amusing himself with her while he bides his time waiting to close whatever deal he’s brokering with his off-shore clients.”
Newlin frowned. “Just what kind of deal would that be?”
Phyllis clenched her fingers around the strap of her leather shoulder bag. “I’m sure we’ll all find out soon enough. But you can be certain of one thing. Elias Winters has no long-term personal interest in Charity or in Crazy Otis Landing. He’s only here to make a profit.”
She marched down the steps and strode off toward the parking lot. The staccato click of her heels echoed in the light fog.
Silence settled on the small crowd gathered on the steps.
Charity gazed thoughtfully after Phyllis. “Does this mean I don’t get to play the Ingrid Bergman role in the Whispering Waters Cove production of Notorious after all?”
13
It’s easy to see the reflections in the water. The difficulty lies in recognizing the truth when it appears there.
—“On the Way of Water,” from the journal of Hayden Stone
Charity didn’t see Elias waiting in the shadows of her front porch as she brought her car to a halt in the drive and switched off the engine.
She was fumbling with her keys, her mind on the scene on the town hall steps a short while earlier, when she realized she was not alone.
Elias glided out of the shadows into the weak glare of the porch light. If he hadn’t moved, she would never have seen him at all. Her keys flew out of her hand as she started in surprise.
“Elias.”
He caught the keys with a casual, precise movement. “Sorry.”
“Good grief, you scared me half to death.” She snatched her keys from his fingers and stalked to her door. “What are you doing sneaking around my house?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Too bad you didn’t hang around the town hall steps, instead.” She shoved the key into the lock. “You missed quite a scene.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, just the usual—a nasty little skirmish between me and the mayor.” Charity opened the door. “She won.”
Elias followed her into the house. “How?”
“A one-two punch. First she accused me of sleeping with you in order to influence your decisions about the future of Crazy Otis Landing. And then she socked me with the news that my efforts at seduction were wasted. Apparently, you’re just too darn clever for me to handle. According to Phyllis, you’re using me.”
“In what way?”
“She believes that you’re amusing yourself with me while you bide your time waiting to carry out your nefarious plans for the pier.” The toe of Charity’s shoe brushed against an object lying on the floor. “What in the world?”
She groped for the hall switch, flipped it on, and glanced down. A medium-sized brown envelope lay on the floor.
“I’ll get it.” Elias scooped it up and handed it to her. “Someone must have shoved it under your door while you were out this evening.”
She frowned at the sealed envelope. There was no address or name on the outside. “How long have you been waiting on my front porch?”
“About half an hour. Whoever left that for you must have come by before I got here.”
“Which brings up an interesting question. Why are you here?” Charity started to unseal the envelope.
“To tell you that I’ve decided you’re right. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I’m going to Seattle tomorrow to see Garrick Keyworth.”
The bleak determination in his voice shocked her. Charity dropped the unopened envelope on the hall table and turned toward him. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”
He was motionless in the open doorway, his face an unreadable mask. “I doubt if it will do either me or Keyworth any good, but I can’t think of any other way to handle it.”
Charity went to him, wrapped her arms around him, pressed herself against him. “Neither can I.”
For a few seconds he stood, rigid and unyielding in her embrace. Then, with a wordless groan, he locked his arms around her.
“Something’s happening to me, Charity. My training, my philosophy. The things I’ve used to keep myself centered since I was sixteen. They’re all starting to fade in and out. It’s like watching lousy reception on TV.”
“I think you’ve probably been going through some of the same things Crazy Otis did after Hayden died.”
Elias gave a hoarse laugh that held no trace of humor. “Maybe we should rename the pier after all. Call it Crazy Elias Landing.”
“The situation with Keyworth didn’t help matters, that’s for sure. It was too much on top of Hayden’s death. The thing with Keyworth was unresolved, and now it’s come back to haunt you.”
“Complete with ghosts.” He tightened his hold on her. “Damn, I wish I could talk to Hayden one last time.”
“What do you think he would tell you?”
Elias was silent for a long while. “To study the reflections in clear water. Water that was not distorted with images of the past.”
“Do you understand what that means? Because I’m not sure I do.”
“I think it means I have to see Keyworth one more time.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“To Seattle? No. I appreciate the offer, but I have to do this alone.”
“I know. But I can drive into the city with you. Davis said something about being out of town on business this week, but I’ll do lunch with my sister while you’re busy with Keyworth.”
“I’m not going to argue.” He hesitated. “I’ve got to tell you, Charity, lately, sometimes you’re the only thing that feels real to me.”
A shiver of deep uncertainty chilled her to the core. She hugged Elias with all her strength, but the warmth of his body did not banish the cold sensation his words had created within her.
If Elias was drawn to her only because the passion they generated between them was powerful enough to cut through the mists of his melancholy, what would happen when those same mists lifted? she wondered.
She could only hope that he would learn to love her once he no longer needed her. Because she suddenly understood with blinding clarity that she was in love with him.
She raised her lips to his.
Elias claimed her mouth with a sensual hunger that was powerful enough to drive out the doubt and the fear. At least for a while.
An hour later, Elias roused himself from the sweet lethargy imposed by sexual satisfaction. He shifted on the soft mattress, rolled onto his back, and looked up at the bedroom ceiling. Beside him, Charity snuggled, warm and soft and wonderfully curved.
It was amazing how things were beginning to seem more solid and real now that he had made up his mind to talk to Keyworth. He had no idea what he would say to his old nemesis, but the decision to see him was the right one. It had to be done. Elias knew that he owed Charity, not Tal Kek Chara for that insight.
He also knew he had reached a turning point of some kind. He was reluctant to explore all
of the ramifications. But there was no getting around the fact that this decision to see Keyworth was a radical departure from his usual path. It was the first time since he had been a teenager that he had consciously selected a crucial course of action without consulting his philosophy and training.
It was a dangerous move. It left him feeling vulnerable.
He had known from the beginning that Charity represented a threat to his carefully structured, self-contained world, but he had recklessly pursued the relationship. Now it was too late to turn aside.
“Elias?”
“I’m here.”
“Are you hungry?”
“I guess I never did get around to dinner.”
“Me, either.” Charity sat up amid the rumpled sheets. “I was too busy plotting ways to defend the pier against Phyllis and the council.”
“I was occupied buying beers for the three musketeers who rescued me. By the way, Newlin wants me to teach him about Tal Kek Chara. I gather you put that notion into his head.”
“It was his own idea. Do you mind?”
He thought about it. “No, but I don’t know if I can teach the Way to someone else. I’ve always been the student.”
“Every teacher was once a student. I would think that teaching others would be a continuous learning process for an instructor. At least it would be for a good instructor.”
“Hayden used to say that student and teacher reflect each other in the way that water reflects moving light. The images are forever shifting, never quite the same but always there.”
“That sounds like Hayden. Nice and cryptic. Want a snack? No competitive cooking. Just a peanut butter sandwich or something?”
He admired the pale sheen of moonlight on the elegant slope of her breast. Lazily he stretched out a hand and touched her nipple. It hardened into a tight bud beneath his finger. “Or something.” He slid his palm down to her waist and then moved it lower.
“Enough with the lechery, already.” She batted at his questing hand. “Time to eat.”
“Your wish is my command.” He tumbled her back down on the bed and made a place for himself between her thighs.
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