by B. J Daniels
He’d gone to sleep cursing Clancy, while glaring through the railing at the only other dwelling on this side of the rugged island—an almost identical log lodge nestled in the pines across the small bay.
A single light had shone in one of the rooms on the second floor of Clancy’s lodge until the wee hours. He’d seen an occasional shadow and wondered if she was alone. Angry that he couldn’t sleep, either, he’d speculated on what she might be doing still up. Working in her studio? Or trying to sleep and not think, like him?
At one point, he’d considered going over to see her, getting it over with. But it was late, and he told himself waiting until morning was the best plan. He’d finally dozed off, only to be dragged from sleep by a loud noise, which did little to improve his disposition.
As he stared across the moonlit bay, trying to figure out what had awakened him, a movement jarred his attention into focus. Something was thrashing around in the water off the end of Clancy’s dock. He saw what appeared to be a head surface, heard the choked cry before it disappeared again. Clancy?
Shedding his bedroll, Jake leaped from the end of the balcony, dropped onto the beach and took off at a run. He saw the head materialize again, dark against the silvery surface of the water, heard the cry for help and pushed his legs harder. All the time his mind raced ahead of him; the swimmer couldn’t be Clancy. She swam like a trout and was much too smart to be swimming—drowning—at this hour of the night.
He sprinted down the weathered dock to the end as the person emerged once again—yards beyond his reach. Having no time to consider the consequences, he dove in. The sudden shock of the cold water brought him wide awake; he surfaced, gasping for breath. Just ahead of him he could see the swimmer start to disappear under the dark water again. He swam hard and reached out to grab the only thing he could. Hair. It was long enough he could bury his hand in it.
But to his surprise, the swimmer pulled him under with a force that almost made him lose his grip. Immediately he realized his mistake. The silly fool was struggling, fighting him, and he remembered why he’d never considered the lifeguarding profession. Too dangerous. At least in the private eye business you knew who you were dealing with: murderers, crooks, cheaters and liars. Not some novice in over her head in deep water, panicked to senseless desperation and determined to take you down with her.
Jake got a tighter hold on the hair and a grip on one flaying arm, and with all his strength kicked toward the moonlit surface. At first nothing happened, then they both rose in a rush, the swimmer choking and coughing as they surfaced. Jake used a no-nonsense half nelson to drag the person to the dock and, none too gently, hoisted the obviously feminine body onto the worn boards. He felt a moment of relief. This woman, whoever she was, wasn’t Clancy. Not with that body. Her wet clothing molded to her curves—dangerously enticing, fully developed curves.
She leaned over the edge of the dock, fighting for breath, her dripping shoulder-length hair in her face. Slowly, she raised her gaze, sending a shock wave through him.
Clancy? Even under the wet mop of blond hair, even in the shimmering silver of the moonlight, there was no doubt about that face. Her hair was longer. Not quite as blond. But that face. That cute little nose. That slightly puckered, almost pouty mouth. That wide-eyed, curious deep brown gaze. If anything, she was more beautiful than he remembered. And certainly more…filled out. And in all the right places. That adorable seventeen-year-old tomboy he’d known was now one hell of a good-looking woman.
But he wasn’t sure what shocked him the most. Seeing the change in her after all these years. Or realizing she was the swimmer he’d had to rescue. What had happened to the Clancy he used to know, the one who was much too smart to swim alone in the middle of the night?
“What the hell were you doing swimming at this hour?” he demanded, anger following his relief that Clancy was all right. He needed her alive, he told himself. His relief had nothing to do with any old feelings from their past, he assured himself, ignoring the flashes of memories of the two of them as kids. They’d been so close—best pals. More than that. Kindred spirits. The truth was, he’d thought he was in love with her.
“Swimming?” she said, choking. “You think I was swimming?” She coughed, then leaned back, her gaze settling on him with suspicion. “Someone tried to drown me.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, holding up his hands. “I was the one who fished you out of the drink.” He felt something cold sprint up his spine as he looked into her eyes.
“Someone grabbed me and—” Clancy glanced around in obvious confusion, her eyes wild with fear. “You dragged me out?”
“Yeah.” Jake studied her for a moment, wondering how long it would take her to acknowledge that she knew him. “About this someone who tried to drown you.you might notice there seems to be just the two of us on this whole side of the island.” He glanced toward the still water, then at the empty shoreline, then at her again.
“Thank you for helping me,” she whispered, still looking disoriented. And more than a little scared.
He’d known seeing her again was going to trigger a lot of old emotions, emotions he couldn’t afford. He quickly reminded himself that Clancy hadn’t only perjured herself on the witness stand and helped send his father to prison ten years ago, now she was facing a murder rap of her own. Forget that cute kid he used to build sand castles with on the beach and catch trout with off the end of this dock. Someone had bludgeoned Dex Westfall to death, and from what Kiki had told him, the police thought that someone was Dex’s girlfriend, Clancy Jones.
“So what were you doing out here on the dock at this time of the night?” he asked, unable to keep the reproach out of his voice. He was wet and tired and didn’t appreciate being awakened in the middle of the night. Especially by this woman.
“I heard someone…calling me.” She sounded dubious.
Welcome to the club. “Someone calling you?” He glanced at the still water beyond the dock. The pines etched a dark, ragged line against the night sky. Then he looked over at her again. “Someone called you, so you walked down to see what they wanted in the middle of the night?” Perfectly logical.
He saw her look toward her lodge, her eyes widening. He followed her gaze, surprised to see that not a single lamp glowed in any of the windows. She hadn’t turned on a light before coming down to the dock?
“I suppose you didn’t recognize the voice calling you or see the person who pulled you into the water?” he asked, not even trying to hide his disbelief. He could read most people as easily as he could the cover of a tabloid from across the floor of a good-sized minimart. Clancy Jones was lying through her teeth, but for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why. He reminded himself that lying seemed to come easy for her.
“Whether you believe it or not, someone tried to drown me,” she said, her voice breaking. She didn’t sound any more convinced than he was, but she was scared. He could see it in her movements as she got to her feet, nervously tugging her wet clothing away from her body.
For the first time, he realized she wasn’t dressed for a night swim. She wore a T-shirt and a pair of leggings. Both were wet and molded to her body. An amazing body, Jake grudgingly admitted. Her feet were bare, and she still wore her watch and a single gold bracelet. Both looked expensive. He ignored the voice of reason that questioned why she would have gone swimming wearing an expensive watch, why Jake had had to pull so hard to bring her to the surface. The questions wedged themselves in the back of his brain, a reluctant sliver of doubt.
“Right,” Jake said. “And where is that someone now?”
When he raised his gaze to her face, he saw that she was staring at him again. Squinting, actually, as if the moonlight was too bright.
“Who are you, anyway, and what are you doing here?” she demanded.
He tried not to let it hurt his feelings. Why should she recognize him or even remember him? She’d only spent the first seventeen years of her life living right next door to him, s
pending most every waking moment with him from the time she could walk. And it wasn’t as if he wanted to believe he’d made an impression on her just because she had on him. True, there’d been that kiss, the first for both of them, on this very dock, and she’d said she loved him, but hey”Jake Hawkins,” he said, surprised at the hurt and anger he heard in his tone. And the bitterness. “Not that there’s any reason you should remember me. But perhaps you haven’t forgotten my father. Surely you recall that your testimony sent him to prison ten years ago.”
“Jake.” It came out a whisper. She seemed to wobble a little as she squinted harder at him. “It’s been so long…you sound so different…and—”
He rolled his eyes. “Forget it.” For a moment, he just glared at her, mad, irritable and just plain out of sorts. He shifted his gaze to the lake. Lights flickered on the mainland. The air smelled of fish and pines. He should have been at sea, drifting with the night clouds, catching stripers and sailfish. He should have been at peace, breathing salt air, not standing on a dock in the wee hours of the morning with a woman who’d forced him to remember things he’d only wanted to forget. A woman, who unlike him, seemed to have put at least some of that past behind her.
“Why now?” she asked quietly. “After all this time?”
Fueled on a mixture of hurt and anger, he answered, “Your Aunt Kiki sent me to save your butt.”
“What?” The surprise on Clancy’s face was worth the flight to Montana. It was almost worth missing his fishing trip. “You met my Aunt Kiki?”
“The Wicked Witch of the East herself.” He’d never completely believed the stories Clancy had told after one of her required trips back East each spring to visit her rich aunt. He did now. “She’s everything you said she was. And then some.”
“I don’t understand,” Clancy said, frowning. “Why would Aunt Kiki send you?”
“Probably because I’m a private investigator and your aunt thinks her money and I can dig up evidence that will keep you out of prison.” Even as he said it, he realized it didn’t make that much sense to him, either. He had a hunch, one he was holding off like a bad cold. He told himself not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Kiki had provided him with the perfect opportunity. Why question it?
Clancy met his gaze; tears glistened in her eyes. “I see.”
He realized she did see at least part of it: one of the only reasons he was here was because Aunt Kiki had procured his services. He thought it would give him more satisfaction than it did to hurt her. What had she expected? That he’d come back and forget what she’d done, forgive her? Not likely.
“It’s unfortunate that you’ve wasted your time,” she said, her words so faint, he almost missed them.
Wasted his time? What was she saying, that she killed Dex Westfall, that she was guilty?
She straightened, her glance shifting from her bare feet to his face. “The last thing I need right now is…you helping me.”
He stared at her. “It’s not like you have a lot of choice in the matter. I doubt there’s a line of private investigators knocking down your door to take this case.”
She let out a small laugh; her hand fluttered for a moment in the air between them. “Jake, we both know you’re not here to save me. Admit it, you’d love nothing better than to see me behind bars.”
He started to admit it, but she didn’t give him the chance.
“What was my aunt thinking?” With a dismissive shake of her head, she turned and headed down the dock toward shore. “Consider yourself fired.”
“Wait a minute!” he called after her. “You can’t get rid of me just like that.”
She didn’t even turn around.
Jake stood on the dock, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched her stride toward her lodge. Fired? He’d never been fired in his life. Especially by some woman who didn’t have the good sense not to go swimming in the middle of the night. A woman who had the audacity to make up a story about an attacker calling her down to the dock to drown her—Jake glared at Clancy’s ramrod back as she retreated up the beach. Once a liar, always a liar, he thought.
“Fine,” he called after her. “Fire me. Say hello to my father when you get to prison.”
Her lodge door slammed, leaving him standing alone in the moonlight. He cursed and started toward his own lodge. Matching her angry strides, he stomped down the beach but quickly slowed to a limp. The bottoms of his feet hurt like the devil from racing across sand, rocks and rough wood to save a woman who didn’t even recognize him. He cursed himself for not only his unappreciated heroics, but also for that moment of weakness he’d had when he first saw Clancy again. For just that instant, he’d actually cared. How could he have forgotten, if for even a moment, the part she’d played in helping send his father to prison? He assured himself he wouldn’t forget again.
* * *
CLANCY FELL BACK AGAINST the door she’d just slammed and tried to stop shaking. She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to fall apart; she’d already cried too many tears and it had accomplished nothing. But just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse—Jake appeared.
She hugged herself to hold down the shudders that welled up inside her. Confusion clouded her thoughts. Someone had called her down to the dock and tried to drown her. Or had they? She closed her eyes, searching through the darkness of her memory, fighting desperately to remember. Could it have been just a bad dream? But it had seemed so real. The hand coming out of the water, grabbing her ankle, pulling her into the water. Once she hit the water, she’d been wide awake. But had there really been someone else in the water trying to drag her under? Or had it been Jake fighting to bring her to the surface? It had happened so fast. And yet she remembered the voice. It had been familiar. Jake’s voice?
Her eyes flew open at the thought. No, it hadn’t been Jake’s. His voice had a hint of a southern drawl.
Jake. A rush of emotions assailed her. Memories, as sweet as the warm scent of summer. Regrets that made her heart ache. She’d never expected to ever see him again. Never expected to have these old feelings come back with such force. Then to find him on her dock tonight. And now of all times.
She moved to the table to retrieve her glasses, anxious to be able to see clearly again, wishing she’d had them on earlier. Or at least had her contacts in. All she’d gotten was a blurred impression of Jake. Medium height and muscular. She smiled, remembering the boy she’d grown up with, the boy she’d fallen so desperately in love with.
She thought about the betrayed, angry look he’d given her that day at the courthouse ten years ago. Tonight, she’d heard that same anger and bitterness in his voice. He still blamed her for his father going to prison. And now he’d come to Montana to help her? She couldn’t possibly let herself believe that.
But Jake had saved her life tonight, hadn’t he? Clancy shivered, remembering the dark water and the hands pulling her under. Or had they been Jake’s hands trying to pull her toward the surface? If there had been an attacker, where had he gone so quickly?
She shivered, hugging herself tighter. Right now she needed a hot bath and dry clothing. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d walked in her sleep again; she particularly didn’t want to think what could have happened if Jake hadn’t been there.
She hurried upstairs, anxious to get out of her wet, cold clothing. But as she disrobed and stepped into the hot shower, exhaustion pulled at her, making her thoughts as clouded as the steam that rose around her.
She yearned to be warm and dry. To wrap herself in one of her mother’s old quilts. To curl up in front of the fire-place. To forget everything. And sleep. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the shower wall.
* * *
JAKE QUICKLY SHOWERED and changed into warm, dry clothing, hoping it would soothe his anger and frustration. It had done neither by the time he dialed the private number Kiki had left for him at the Kalispell, Montana, airport along with another cellular phone. She’d evidently anticipate
d that he’d chuck the first one into the gulf, which he had. It bothered him that Kiki thought she knew him so well.
Kiki Talbott Conners answered on the fifth ring. With more than a little satisfaction, he realized he’d awakened her from a sound sleep.
“What time is it?” she groaned.
Way past his bedtime, he knew that. His eyes felt as if they had sand in them. “A quarter after three.”
“In the morning?”
“That could explain why it’s still dark out.” He could just imagine her in a huge satin bed at the Bigfork condo she’d rented, surrounded by plump pillows and pampered poodles. “Your niece and I just got reacquainted.”
“At three in the morning?” Kiki demanded, grogginess turning quickly to surliness.
He walked to the window. “It’s a long story.” It looked as though all the lights in Clancy’s lodge were on. What was she doing still up, he wondered. And why all the lights? What was she afraid of? Surely she wasn’t buying into her own lies about a mysterious killer who came out of the water like a shark from Jaws. “Let me cut to the chase. Your niece doesn’t want me on this case.”
“That surprises you?” Kiki asked, adding an audible “humph.” “Perhaps she thinks you harbor a grudge against her.”
Kiki’s words snapped his attention back like a short rubber band. “Of course I have a grudge against her. And for a damned good reason.” He raked his fingers through his hair, remembering what Clancy had said on the dock, What could my aunt have been thinking? Exactly what Jake wanted to know. “Which brings me to the reason I called. Knowing that, why in the hell did you want me up here?”
A faint tinkling sound broke the silence. She was pouring herself a drink. He felt as if he was going to need one, too. Kiki had enough money to buy the best private investigator in the galaxy. And if she wanted evidence tampered with, she could have bought that, too. For a price. But not from Jake Hawkins. So why hire a man who had every reason not to help her niece?