Guardian of the Night

by Debra Webb

  As far as Blue could tell, the only person around here who’d crossed a line for a certainty was her, but she had no intention of saying so to the boss. Instead, she nodded. “Will do, sir.”

  She walked Lucas out. The dark sedan that had brought him waited in the drive. She arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Wow. How’d you rate such a cool ride?” Compared to Chester’s truck, the sedan was a limo.

  Lucas winked at her. “I have my sources, Callahan. When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you know how to pull the proverbial rabbit out of a hat.” He turned to leave, but glanced back before doing so. “Remember, I’m just a 9-1-1 away,” he reminded, referring to his panic pager and their special code for help.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Blue watched him go. For a man who walked with a prosthesis and a cane, his progress was efficient and fairly smooth, like that of all cunning predators. Anyone who thought Lucas innocuous because he had a handicap and had seen the better half of a century, should be warned. Lucas Camp was one-hundred-percent lethal when necessary. And all charm and grace the rest of the time.

  He gave her one last nod before settling into the back seat of the car. He even had his own driver, but the tinted windows prevented her from seeing who was behind the wheel. Lucas was too cool. Here she was struggling with the whole Gilligan’s Island atmosphere and Lucas had a car and driver. She imagined he’d earned the right though…or simply taken it.

  The car hesitated before moving down the long drive. Two seconds later Lowell pedaled his bicycle around the vehicle and into the yard. The sedan pulled away, disappearing into the camouflaging depths of the overgrown drive.

  “Who was that?” Lowell swung his leg over the bike, removed his wide-brimmed hat and stared after the car, a frown muddling his expression. He lifted a bag from the basket, which Blue assumed held new and personally inspected soap. She’d sure be inspecting the bar she used from now on.

  “That was my boss.”

  Lowell swiveled toward her, his eyes rounded in astonishment. “What?”

  Incredulous was not an apt description of his reaction. Shocked was the better word. Confusion added to the mix of worrisome thoughts already troubling her.

  She nodded. “He picked up the soap and the latest letter Drake received.”

  “Lucas Camp is on the island?” Lowell moved toward her, his startled expression gaining momentum rather than calming. “Already…I mean…now?” he stuttered. “I didn’t know you called him.”

  She hadn’t wanted to divulge Lucas’s presence, but since Lowell had practically run headlong into him there wasn’t really any way around it. He knew everyone on the island. Explaining away that car would have been impossible. Since Lowell knew Lucas’s name, she had to assume Rothman had passed on that information.

  “Is something wrong?” she queried. There had to be a reasonable explanation for Lowell’s odd behavior. What did he care if Lucas was here? He didn’t even know the man.

  Composure fell too quickly into place and he smiled, the surface convention strained to say the least. “It’s nothing and everything, I suppose.”

  Lowell gave a dramatic wave of his arms as if his burden was too immense to handle. “The whole thing is spiraling into the bizarre. Chester insists that no one but him had access to last week’s order. He didn’t stop anywhere or talk to anyone after picking up the items at the store. The boxes were never out of his sight.” Lowell climbed the steps and stood next to her, peering out over the yard with a defeated sigh. “That leaves only you and me.” He turned to her, his expression grave now. “I didn’t do this terrible thing, Blue. I would never.”

  She dredged up a smile in spite of her uneasiness about his behavior. He was just as confused as she was. Upset too. “Somehow someone had to have gotten access before the goods arrived at the house.” She chewed her lower lip and contemplated her next question. The last thing she wanted to do was unsettle him further. “Is Chester a drinker?”

  Lowell shrugged. “He’s been known to on occasion. But he has always been extremely reliable.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m inclined to believe what he says. Chester wouldn’t hurt a fly. If he’d been drinking and perhaps allowed such a lapse in judgment by letting our supplies out of his sight, I believe he would simply say so.”

  He certainly knew Chester better than she did. Maybe he was right. But, as Lucas said, something wasn’t right here. The answer could be right under their noses. She thought of the old woman again. It was now or never. She had to ask Lowell about her. She looked toward the forest on the north side of the house, the area where she and Drake had run into trouble last night. “I ran into someone else in the woods last night,” Blue began, hoping like hell this wasn’t going to sound as crazy to him as it did to her.

  “Oh?” His questioning gaze connected with hers when she faced him once more. “Besides the riffraff?”

  She nodded. “An old woman. She warned me that something bad was coming and that I should be very careful. She even called me by name.”

  Lowell looked skeptical. “What did this woman look like?”

  Blue thought about that for a moment. It had been awfully dark. “Her skin was mahogany almost, maybe she was African-American, I can’t say for sure. She wore a lot of jewelry and—” she gestured to her head “—something tied around her hair, like a bandanna maybe. The most distinguishing feature was a scar—” she traced a line across her cheek “—from the corner of her eye to the edge of her mouth. It looked pale against her skin, you couldn’t miss it even in the dark.”

  Lowell went ashen. “The old voodoo woman?” The words were barely audible.

  Blue shrugged and made a sound of uncertainty. “I don’t know who she was. Just an old woman who, oddly enough, knew my name. I guess she kind of looked like someone who dabbled in voodoo.”

  Lowell was shaking his head now. “That’s not possible. The woman you’re describing is dead. She died about thirty years ago and is buried behind the old chapel. I’ve heard the tall tales about her. She’s definitely dead.”

  Drake’s words about the old voodoo witch rang out in her head. She laughed, the sound tight, maybe even a little nervous. But she didn’t believe in that stuff. “Look, I know what I saw and this old woman was definitely alive.”

  Lowell reached for the door to the house. “Maybe the darkness or the moonlight played a trick on you. With the fog we had last night, sometimes your imagination runs away with you.” He frowned when he noticed the door wasn’t locked.

  “I just came out to see Lucas off,” she explained as she followed him inside. He didn’t respond, just locked up as usual. No matter what Lowell thought was possible or impossible, she knew what she’d seen, fog or no fog. The old woman had been real…and very much alive.

  NOAH STOOD on the widow’s walk, camouflaged in the darkness. He’d risen more than an hour ago, but he’d chosen to stay in his rooms rather than join the others downstairs. He wasn’t ready to face her again so soon. He wasn’t sure he ever would be. So he’d worked.

  He’d hardly slept at all this day. His own actions where Maggie Callahan was concerned troubled him greatly. He’d kept his distance for all these years…been strong and now that strength seemed to diminish with each breath he took, with every moment she stayed.

  His thoughts were consumed by her. He wanted to be with her more than he wanted anything else. It was absurd. He barely knew her…certainly couldn’t feel anything beyond physical attraction for her. Yet it felt like so much more. His traitorous emotions scarcely considered the reasons she had come, his complete attention perpetually fixated on her alone. The threat of death be damned.

  How foolhardy was that?

  Then, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d been a fool. He’d spent what constituted the best part of his lifetime putting his career before all else, focusing solely on the job. What made him think he would show better judgment now, in exile? All that had saved him these past five years was to
tal segregation.

  He had no right to draw her into his private world. It was bad enough that she was here in a professional capacity. To play upon her feelings…her attraction to him…was wrong, selfish. He understood that and still he could think of nothing else. He wanted her with a desperation that minimized all else into insignificance.

  This was a decision she had to make. In order to do that she had to know all the facts. If, after being made aware of his circumstances, she chose to pursue this path, so be it. Becoming involved with him would be a mistake, but it was hers—hers alone—to make if she so desired. And when her time here was up, she would go.

  Decision made, Noah went in search of her.

  He found her in the living room scanning the perimeter of the yard via the monitor that was a duplicate of the one in his room. It had been set to nighttime use, which eliminated the numerous filters that blocked the brightness of the sun during daylight hours.

  Before making his presence known he studied her for a while. He liked very much that she always wore her hair down. Her clothes were far too concealing for his taste. He would like to see her in a great deal less fabric, fabric that was much more sheer. Actually, he’d like nothing more than to see her completely naked.

  She turned abruptly, as if he’d telegraphed that last thought to her. The moment she became aware of his presence her tension grew palpable. The bruise on her cheek had darkened. Anger seethed inside him again. Not for the first time he wished it within his power to hurt the man responsible for that mark as well as the others. He thought of the way he’d touched her early this morning, applying the antiseptic ointment, and he longed to touch her more intimately.

  First, he had to know that’s what she wanted. Before she could make an informed decision she had to know the full truth. She had to know everything. Primarily that there was no future involved.

  “I hope you slept well,” she said, her tone guarded. She was uncertain of this ground, and he could understand that, considering his conflicting signals.

  “Not very.” He paused next to her. “And you?”

  Those blue eyes locked fully onto his and need welled inside him. “I didn’t sleep at all,” she admitted. “Lowell and I spent the entire day making sure the food supplies and so forth were safe.”

  “I take it you found all to your satisfaction?” She was treading carefully here, keeping the conversation on business.

  “Everything but three bars of soap that were delivered last week. Chester insists that the supplies were never out of his sight, yet the glass was imbedded in all three and all were made to look as if they’d never been opened.”

  He filed that information for later analysis. “Anything else?”

  “Inside each soap wrapper there was a note. Cut-and-paste jobs like the others.”

  He waited expectantly for her to continue.

  “Gotcha!” She searched his eyes, for reaction no doubt. “That’s all. Just that one word.”

  Noah scrubbed a hand over his chin, belatedly noting that he should have shaved, but he’d had no patience for it. “I think I’d like to speak with Chester myself on the matter. Lowell as well. Has he retired already?”

  She nodded. “I think he was pretty tuckered out from all the excitement.”

  “We had a visitor,” Noah prodded. He’d been aware of the intrusion, but had not wanted to interfere. He’d recognized the man from Edgar’s description of him. The infamous Lucas Camp. The man inspired awe in most, hatred in a few. But everyone in the business had heard of him. He was a legend.

  “Lucas Camp, my boss.” She massaged her forehead with her fingers, tired and sleep-deprived. The exhaustion was only now catching up to her, the struggle was visible. “He believes we’re missing something right under our noses. He wants to dig a little deeper into Chester’s background as well as Lowell’s.”

  Noah lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Though I doubt he’ll find what he’s looking for in either of those gentlemen, I agree that we are overlooking something.”

  He tried not to devour her with his eyes, but the task was a difficult one. He wanted to study every line and curve of her. To know her by heart. No matter what else happened.

  “No one on the island has ever given you trouble in the past?”

  That angle had already been pursued, but he wasn’t opposed to repeating the exercise. “There are a couple of the locals who at first resented my presence since they didn’t understand my circumstances. They made a few idle threats, threw rocks at my house, nothing drastic. In time they simply gave up and accepted that I was here to stay.”

  She looked directly at him now, her eyes earnest. “And what are your circumstances, precisely?”

  He motioned to the sofa. “Please, sit down.”

  She held his gaze, unmoving, trying to read him, assess his intent, but he gave away nothing just yet. Finally, she relented and perched on the edge of the sofa looking anything but relaxed.

  He selected a seat directly across from her. He wanted to see the reaction in her eyes when he told her what she wanted to know. What he needed her to know.

  “Five years ago a prototype cloaking device was stolen from Edgar Rothman’s research group. The device, in the wrong hands, posed a serious threat to national security. I agreed to retrieve it.”

  “The general stole it,” Blue offered.

  “Correct.” Some parts she already knew. Now for the hard part that she didn’t know. “In order to retrieve the prototype, I was forced to use a duplicate device. The mission could not be accomplished without absolute anonymity.” Flashes of memories from those moments when he’d insisted on the mission flickered past his mind’s eye. Edgar had tried to dissuade him, but he’d known as well as Noah that it was the only way.

  “But something went wrong,” she suggested when his silence dragged on.

  “Yes. The device is an organic implant that overrides the part of my histology and neurology that controls flesh tones, hair coloring…” He splayed his hands in a magnanimous gesture. “At will I can take on the qualities of my environment, to an extent. I can blend in. The dark is the most favorable environment.”

  She blinked, attempting to hide her initial astonishment. “Still?” She shook her head. “I mean, does it still work?”

  He nodded affirmatively.

  A flicker of irritation darkened those blue eyes. “That’s why I can’t see you when you go out into the darkness. You used it to hide from me.” She huffed an exasperated breath, then seemed to catch herself and tuck her annoyance away. “But there are complications? Side effects?”

  “Yes. The implant affected my nervous system in such a way that it remains oversensitive to light. If I’m exposed, there is severe pain that eventually leads to death.”

  Her expression turned solemn, fearful…fearful for him. “So you’re not safe in the daytime. If someone tried to flush you out…you’d be at his mercy. They could storm the house, drag you out.”

  “I’ve taken measures against that.” He gestured to her. “You’re here to see that no one is able to do that.” He wasn’t prepared to tell her about the escape tunnel just yet.

  “I’m not enough.” She pushed to her feet. “You’re too vulnerable in this house. If someone came after you…there are ways to draw you out.”

  “There are ways, yes.” He stood, moved toward her. “No one is exempt from the dangers of everyday life. I live in a prison as it is, I refuse to resort to even more desperate measures. I won’t run from him.”

  She stared up into his eyes, the emotion in hers something unfamiliar to him. “There’s no way to undo this implant thing? They can’t just take it out?”

  “No. It’s organic. It melded with my own tissue far more quickly than anyone had imagined. Attempting to remove it would result in far worse consequences.”

  “There’s nothing they can do?”

  Noah should simply say no, but that would be a lie. He didn’t want any untruths between them. “Edgar Rot
hman has developed an injection that he believes would shut down the implant, but it carries a great risk as well. There is a very strong possibility that it would damage other areas of my brain. I will not take the risk.”

  She looked away from him and shook her head. “So this is forever?” Her gaze shifted back to his, demanding an answer.

  His heart stumbled at the regret he saw in her eyes. But he did not want her pity for what he could not change. “Yes. It’s forever.”

  She laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you for telling me. It means a great deal that you shared this with me. I prefer to be fully informed in order to be more prepared for an assignment.”

  He looked down at her, his gaze leaving no room for speculation. “I didn’t tell you this to better prepare you for your assignment, Maggie Callahan,” he said bluntly. “I shared this information with you because I want you to understand that I’m offering you no strings…no future…nothing beyond here and now.” He reached up to touch her. Her breath caught. His fingertips traced the softness of her cheek. “I’m only offering this moment, if you wish to take it.”

  For the first time in more than five years, Noah had put his emotions on the line. She would never know the courage it took him to do this…to ask her to accept him as he was, for what he was, for just this one moment.

  She backed away from his touch, her eyes going liquid with emotions, sympathy, compassion, pain, all the things he did not want to see.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Drake,” she said, her words scarcely a whisper, but all too telling. “I can’t do that.”

  And then she walked out, taking something he’d felt certain no longer functioned beyond the involuntary and purely physical…

  His heart.

  Chapter Nine

  It was almost dawn and still Drake had not come out of his room. Lowell had told her that it was Drake’s custom to roam at night. It was his only freedom…his only means of escape. In the darkness he was untouchable.