by Lisa Jackson
“She already did, Drake, and I’m holding you personally responsible. I know you’re trying to put together a deal to open a rival hotel, right here in downtown Seattle, and you’ve convinced my daughter to become involved in some sort of corporate espionage against her own flesh and blood. Well, I won’t hear of it! You can tell Marnie for me that she’s fired!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the table and scrambling to his feet. “I’m calling my lawyers immediately to press charges against you for stealing company records. And I’m going to change my will. From this moment forward, Marnie’s cut off! Understand? Cut off from any more Montgomery money. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a daughter anymore.”
Adam grabbed hold of the older man’s lapels as Victor tried to brush past him. “If you just would have talked to me this never would have happened.”
“Talk to you? All you had to do was call for an appointment,” Victor raged, his voice becoming louder.
“I tried! But you left word with Kate Delany that you wouldn’t see me.”
“Enough of your lies! Just give Marnie the message.”
“Don’t you think you’d better tell her yourself?” Adam suggested, as he dropped the collar of Victor’s coat.
“Why? She wouldn’t believe me. It’s you she trusts now. You’ve got her under some sort of spell, and when she wakes up, I hope to God she realizes what an incredible mistake she made—that you’re just not worth it.”
“Marnie can make up her own mind,” Adam repeated, his jaw clenched so hard it throbbed.
Victor slammed out of the apartment, and Adam felt a tremendous loss. Not for himself. But for Marnie. Victor was the only family she had in the world, and no matter how angry she became with her father, he was still her own flesh and blood. Adam braced himself for the rift that was to come. He knew she loved the old man and would be devastated when she found out that Victor had branded her a traitor and disowned her. He’d seen how much Victor meant to her when they’d discussed family ties.
Adam had ruined everything for her. He leaned heavily against the wall. How could he tell her that her father considered her no better than dead?
The phone rang again and the answering machine clicked on. Adam hesitated, half expecting Marnie’s voice to be on the phone. “Marnie?” a woman asked. The voice was high-pitched and sluggish, as if she were drunk or drugged. “Marnie? Are you there? Oh, God, please be there! Marnie? This is Dolores…”
Dolores Tate? Adam froze, listening to Dolores’s message.
“…look, I, uh, well, Kent knows that you know about the books. He, um, oooh, God! He came over and…and I told him. But somehow—somehow he already knew. I could see it in his eyes.” She was crying now. Her voice faltered. “He flipped out and…he hit me, Marnie,” she whispered, sniffing loudly. “He hit me. And I think he’s on the way to the boat. I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you… He might have a gun. Oh, Lord…”
Adam rushed back to the phone and picked up the receiver.
“Dolores, this is Adam Drake,” he said, only to hear the sound of the connection being severed. A second later a dial tone buzzed in his ear.
What was she talking about? What books? What did it have to do with Marnie? A gun? Did she say a gun!
He didn’t waste any time trying to call Dolores back. He didn’t bother locking the apartment. Taking the steps to the parking lot two at a time, he raced down the stairs and only hoped that he wasn’t too late.
* * *
IN THE MAIN CABIN of the boat, Marnie twisted the combination lock for the fifth time, but nothing happened. Not one single tumbler had seemed to fall into place. She wasn’t just coming up with numbers at random, she’d taken the time to rifle through Kent’s desk, and came up with dates, figures, or series of numbers that held special significance for him.
She tried again using his birthdate, her birthdate, the day he was promoted. Nothing, nothing and nothing.
Racking her brain, she came up with a long shot. The date of their engagement. The tumblers clicked, and the heavy door swung open. Maybe Kent did care for her more than she believed. She reached into the safe and withdrew a small velvet box. Inside was a diamond ring—the engagement ring she’d given back to him. Beneath the box were several stock certificates, and at the very bottom was a ledger book. Marnie opened the book and a computer disk fell out.
She heard brisk footsteps on the deck above. Adam. “Down here,” she called, still reading the entries in the ledgers. They were coded, but she could see that vast amounts of money had been moved around the various accounts of Montgomery Inns—or at least that’s what she suspected.
Adam’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. “We’ve got it!” she yelled, her voice bubbling. She was practically beaming when he walked through the cabin door. “Look, it’s all here—” she said, before her words died in her throat and she met Kent’s all-knowing gaze.
“Ah, Marnie,” he said, clicking his tongue and sighing. His face was cold and set. A tiny sliver of fear pricked her heart.
“Where’s Adam?” she demanded.
“Don’t know.” He lifted one shoulder. “You expecting him?”
She knew she had to be careful. If she lied, Kent would see right through her. “I hoped you were him.”
Kent winced. “So what am I going to do with you?”
“I think the question is, ‘What are the police going to do to you, Kent?’” she said bravely, though she was cold inside. The glint in his eye was deadly, the determined set of his jaw rock-hard and his mouth was a thin, cruel line.
“That does pose a problem,” he admitted, and for a fleeting second his iciness seemed to thaw and he looked again like the man she’d almost married. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He glanced down at the books, still lying open in Marnie’s hands. “But I got caught up in all this… well, it’s over and done with,” he said, his regret giving way to harsh reality. “Now, we’ve got to figure out where we go from here.”
“You have to tell my father the truth. You have to give yourself up.”
Kent snorted, as if she were a fool. “And spend the next twenty years in jail? I don’t think so.”
“If you don’t tell him, I will.”
“Oh, Marnie,” he said, shaking his head again. “I don’t think you’re in a position to bargain.” With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small but deadly pistol. Marnie’s heart stopped.
“You couldn’t—”
“Maybe not. But I don’t have many choices left, do I? If only Drake had butted out, this all would’ve worked.”
“You mean if he’d taken the fall.”
He motioned with his gun to the door. “Hand me the books, then climb on deck. I think we should take a little cruise until I figure out what I’ve got to do.”
“You’re going to kidnap me?” she cried, fear giving way to stark terror. Alone on the open sea with Kent. But it was better than having Adam show up here and innocently walk into the barrel of Kent’s gun.
“No, Marnie,” he said as surely as if he could read her mind, “I’m not going to kidnap you. You’re going to come with me willingly. Otherwise, I might have to find a way to kill your boyfriend and plant some evidence on him that proves without a doubt that he was the man who embezzled from your father.”
“I’d never go along with that story,” she said, her throat squeezing together so that it was hard to speak.
“Hopefully you won’t have to. Maybe I’ll bargain with Drake. If he cares anything for you, he might be willing to confess in order to spare your life and his.”
Marnie could barely believe her ears. Did Kent actually think that Adam would claim responsibility for a crime he didn’t commit, just to save her? Though Kent’s pistol worried her, she couldn’t accept the fact that he would actually shoot her. Embezzling was one kind of crime; murder was an entirely different story. Though cold fear crawled up her spine, she didn’t really believe that Kent was capable of murder. This was all a bluff
; it had to be.
Aware of Kent right behind her, she climbed the stairs to the deck, where the wind had picked up speed and sails were snapping loudly. “This is crazy, Kent. You’re no killer. You couldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Tell that to your friend, Ed.”
“Ed?” she repeated, her dread and adrenaline causing her heart to beat triple-time. “You didn’t—”
“He never knew what hit him, but, no, he’s not dead. Just sleeping for a while.”
Only then did she realize just how desperate Kent had become. “What did you do to him?” she demanded, turning to face him, though her hair swept in front of her eyes. She thought she caught a movement of something on the bridge, another person, and her heart plummeted. Kent had brought along his accomplice.
“Don’t worry about Ed. He’ll survive,” Kent assured her again. “Now, come on. You’re so good at stealing this boat and sailing off into the sunset, why don’t you do the honors and man the helm?”
A smug smile toyed at his lips, and Marnie never wanted to strike a person so much as she did just then. Her hand drew back to slap him.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement. She turned and discovered Adam hurling himself from the bridge, flying through the air and straight at Kent.
“What—” Kent whirled, aimed his pistol, but Marnie, already poised to strike, hit his hand and the gun, flashing fire, spun out of his hand. Adam landed on Kent and sent them both sprawling along the smooth planks of the deck.
The accounting books were knocked from Kent’s grasp. They fluttered upward and caught on the wind before dropping and sliding across the deck to drop into the sea. The computer disk followed, and Marnie raced to the rail, trying vainly to capture the evidence before it settled into the cold, dark waters. But the disk settled quickly beneath the surface. Devastated, she dared one look over her shoulder and grinned inwardly.
Adam was on top of Kent, one fist clenched around the front of Kent’s expensive shirt, the other poised over his face, ready to pummel Kent’s perfect features to a bloody mass.
Marnie didn’t hesitate. Kicking off her shoes, she climbed onto the rail, poised for half a second, then dived neatly between the Marnie Lee and the boat tethered next to her.
“Marnie! Wait!” Adam’s voice rang across the sound as ice-cold water rushed over her in a frigid wave. She swam downward, through the murky water, trying to see the books and the computer disk, hoping to keep some shred of evidence against Kent.
But the water was dark between the boats, and though she searched, she found nothing, not one paper drifting through the depths. Her lungs burned and she swam upward breaking the surface and gasping for air.
She glanced up at the Marnie Lee and watched as Adam dived into the water beside her. He surfaced a minute later, treading water and wiping water from his eyes.
“Anything?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He dived again, and Marnie followed suit, hoping against hope that not all of the evidence was lost. But she saw nothing, nothing and she knew in her heart that by this time, the pages that hadn’t settled to the floor of the sound would be ruined and indecipherable. As for the computer disk, what were the chances that it, if discovered, was still operable?
Something slithered by her toes and she inwardly cringed at the thought of what kind of fish or eel had passed. She kicked toward the surface again.
With a loud roar, the engines of the Marnie Lee caught fire and the propeller started to churn in the dark water creating a whirlpool that sucked everything in its current. Marnie felt herself being pulled with papers, flotsam and kelp toward the craft. She struggled, swimming toward the shore against the drag of the frigid water, but the stern of the boat swung hard, coming closer. She managed to break the surface and gulp for air, but caught a mouthful of water.
“Watch out!” Adam cried, swimming toward her in quick, sure strokes. He wrapped one strong arm around her waist and swam with all his might toward the dark piers and the protection of the docks as she coughed and retched.
He only stopped when they were safely beneath the wharf and he could hold on to the barnacled pilings for support. “You okay?’ he asked, and genuine concern etched his face.
“I—I’m fine,” she gasped, her throat still squeezing shut against the onslaught of foul-tasting water. “But Kent. He’s getting away!” Disappointment weighted her down. They’d lost the evidence they so sorely needed!
“He won’t get far,” Adam predicted. She turned in the water, so that her body was pressed to his.
“Why not?”
Tenderly Adam brushed aside a lank lock of hair that was plastered to her cheek. “I figured he’d make a run for it. I already called the Coast Guard. He’ll be picked up before you and I get dried off.”
“You didn’t!”
“Oh, yes, I did.” His brown eyes appeared darker in the shifting shadows beneath the dock. “Besides,” he said, his voice thick, “it doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter? Are you kidding? Do you know what those papers were?”
Adam’s arm tightened around her. “If I were a betting man, I’d say they were the records explaining where all the missing funds went.”
“Right, and now they’re gone!” Her lips trembled from the cold. “And—and Kent, he won’t admit to anything.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Adam advised, his face closing the small distance between them.
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter. When I saw Kent with that gun pointed at you, I realized that nothing mattered but your safety. God, I’ve been a fool.” He kissed her then, his lips pressing possessively to hers, his mouth molding along the yielding contours of hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and despite the icy cold water, she felt warm and secure. As long as she was with Adam, nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AS SOON AS THEY climbed out of the water, Adam located a phone in the office of the marina and called an ambulance for Ed. The ambulance arrived within fifteen minutes, and Ed, arguing his health, was whisked off to the nearest hospital. After drying off with a couple of towels, courtesy of the locker room of the marina, Adam drove Marnie to the hospital, where they waited until Ed’s doctor assured them that he’d be all right. Ed was suffering from a minor concussion. The doctor, a very distinguished man in his sixties whose authority brooked no argument, insisted, over Ed’s very vocal protests, on keeping him in the hospital overnight for observation.
Two hours later, after witnessing Ed’s cantankerous ribbing with one of the nurses, Marnie and Adam were satisfied that he would manage one night at Eastside General.
“Let’s go to my place and clean up,” Adam suggested as they climbed back into his car.
“So my apartment isn’t good enough?” Marnie teased.
“Not tonight.” Adam considered the printouts still strewn across Marnie’s kitchen table and his conversation with Victor. He didn’t want any reminders of the afternoon. Besides, until he’d heard that Kent was apprehended and locked up, he wanted to keep Marnie safe. The picture in his mind, of Kent pointing a pistol at Marnie’s chest, kept returning in vivid and terrifying clarity.
Though Kent might know where Adam lived, he’d be less likely to try to surprise them there.
Adam’s condominium was located on the eastern shore of Lake Washington, planted on a wooded hillside with steps that wound down to a private dock where his boat was anchored—remnants of the good life courtesy of Victor Montgomery.
He’d brought Marnie here a couple of times in the past few weeks, but they’d never stayed long and not once had she spent the night. Tonight would be different.
“First dibs on the shower,” she said as they walked into the entry hall and gazed through a double bank of ceiling high windows with a view of the flint-colored waters of the lake. The bedrooms were downstairs, and Marnie walked c
onfidently through Adam’s room to the master bath, where she peeled off her clothes and stepped under the shower’s steamy spray. The hot water rinsed the grit and briny smell from her skin. She washed her hair as well, trying to clean away the memory of Kent, his gun, and the pages of the accounting records as they floated just out of her reach.
She didn’t hear Adam enter the bathroom, but felt the cold rush of air as he shoved aside the glass shower door and joined her in the misty warmth of the shower’s spray.
“Couldn’t wait?” she teased, glancing back over her shoulder to see his handsome face in the fog.
“That’s one way of putting it.” But he didn’t seem all that interested in the soap. Standing behind her, he reached forward, his hands surrounding her abdomen as he pulled her closer to him, his fingers spreading over her skin as he drew her tight enough that her buttocks pressed against his thighs.
Her skin tingled, and the water acted as a lubricant, allowing his hands to move silkily against her skin, as he turned her toward him. Heat, as liquid as the gentle spray, uncoiled within her.
She felt his hardness and the brush of his lips against her nape as he kissed her damp skin. She moaned low in her throat, and his fingers moved slowly upward, grazing the underside of her breasts, causing her nipples to stand erect.
He captured both her breasts in his hands, and she arched backward as he entered her, driving deeply into that warm womanly void that only he could fill.
I love you, she thought, but didn’t dare utter the words. Instead she gasped as he moved within her, long and sure, causing a spasm of delight to ripple through her body as she braced against the wet tiles, receiving all of him eagerly.
“Marnie, love,” he whispered against her ear, as he moved faster and faster until she was caught up in a whirlpool of emotion that wound tighter and tighter until she was spinning out of control, her breathing labored, her mind and soul filled with only Adam.
Crying her name, he plunged into her and collapsed and she, too, fell against the tile, her heart pounding in her ears. She didn’t want to move, couldn’t get enough air.