by Karen Foley
Holly brightened at the prospect of spending the day with Shane on the lake. Her parents kept an older boat that Mitch and Shane had often used when they were younger. The motor was temperamental, but Shane had always managed to keep it running.
“Sounds wonderful. I’ll pack us a lunch.”
Shane took the new spark plugs and left, while Holly pulled out the makings for sandwiches. She looked up, surprised, when Shane reappeared a few moments later.
“That was fast,” she began, but broke off when she saw Shane’s face. “What’s wrong?”
He wore an expression of deep concern, and Holly saw that he still carried the spark plugs in one hand. “I know this is a stupid question, but were you down in the boathouse by any chance?”
“Me?” Holly asked in surprise. “No, why?”
In fact, the last time she’d been inside the boathouse had been at her college graduation party, when she’d followed Shane to bed. Unless he was there, Holly had no reason to enter the little building.
Shane scrubbed a hand across his head. “Jesus.”
Holly frowned and set down the utensil she’d been holding. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“Yeah. I was messing around with the boat motor yesterday, trying to get it running. I realized it needed new spark plugs, so I put the cover back on and I haven’t looked at it again until just now.”
“So?”
“So if I hadn’t opened the engine compartment to replace the plugs…if I’d just inserted the key and tried to start the boat…”
He looked a little sick and Holly came quickly around the side of the counter. “What? What would have happened?”
“Someone tampered with the engine, Holly. I swear I left everything exactly the way it should be, but when I opened the engine compartment just now… Someone had disconnected the fuel line and put it up on the engine block. Then the electric coil was disconnected from the distributor, and was lying up against the block.”
Holly shook her head helplessly, but something tight and fearful fisted in her stomach. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. What does that mean?”
“If I had tried to start the engine, electricity would arc right to the block and cross over the gas line, causing an explosion that would probably destroy the boat, level the boathouse, and seriously hurt or kill whoever was in there.”
Holly stared at him, unable to process the words. “What are you saying? That someone tried to kill you?”
Shane gripped Holly’s good arm. “Do you know anyone who might have done this? Think, Holly.”
Holly shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anyone. It’s been so long since I’ve been out here…there’s a family farther down the lake who had a bunch of young boys. They’d be teenagers now. Maybe one of them did it as a prank.”
Shane released her and turned away to rake a hand over his hair. He looked a little wild-eyed and every muscle in his body was tightly coiled. “If this was a prank, it was in pretty poor taste. Someone could have been killed.”
“You didn’t notice anything unusual about the engine when you were down there this morning, before Pete showed up?”
Shane shook his head. “I didn’t even look at the engine. I was just washing the boat out so that we could use it later.”
“So this happened sometime during the last twenty-four hours?”
“Yes. I didn’t even think to lock the boathouse overnight. This property isn’t easy to access, so someone would have to deliberately go out of their way to get to the boat.” His voice was grim. “My guess is that whoever did this came in by water; I checked the entire area around the boathouse and found no trace of footprints. How many people do you know who might come to visit the lake house on their boat?”
“Shane, my parents know every family on this side of the lake and they all have boats. Any one of them has pulled up at the dock one time or another, but I can’t think of a single person who might have been capable of tampering with the engine.”
Shane blew out a hard breath. “Okay. A stranger, then. Or someone with an ax to grind. Is your dad at odds with anyone right now?”
Holly shook her head, bewildered. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. You know my dad. Everyone loves him. He has no enemies.”
Shane glanced out toward the lake, his expression troubled. “I don’t like how this feels. Until we find out who did this, I don’t want you going out alone, got it?”
“I’ll call the police and report it,” Holly said. “Maybe there’ve been other incidents around the lake, although my gut feeling is that this was just a malicious prank. I wonder if whoever did this even knew what would happen if someone did try to start the engine.”
“They knew,” Shane said darkly, his hand fisting compulsively around the packet of spark plugs. “From now on, you keep the doors locked at all times and turn on the security system, even during the day. I don’t like the thought of some punk lurking around the property. If someone could do this, who knows what else they’re capable of doing.”
“We’ve had break-ins at the boathouse before. Once, they stole all our boating equipment and stripped the boat of its electronics. But it’s been a long time since we’ve had any problems with vandalism.” She indicated the spark plugs in his hand. “Do you still want to take the boat out?”
Shane snorted and tossed the package onto the counter. “Without being certain that the vandals didn’t tamper with anything else on board, that’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”
“What about the row boat? I’m guessing they didn’t tamper with that?”
Shane arched one dark eyebrow. “I’m guessing you’re not volunteering to do the rowing.”
Holly laughed and encircled one of his biceps with her hands. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your arms.”
That was the truth; he looked as if he hefted tanks for a living, and even after four weeks of recovery and recuperation, his skin was warm and golden, as if he had been steeped in the desert sun.
“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll row, but you’re packing us a really good lunch.”
“Deal.” She slanted him a wicked grin. “I’ll put a call into the police right now, and then pack a cooler. If there’s one thing the military has taught me, it’s never to let a soldier go hungry. Trust me. I’ll satisfy your appetite.”
6
IT WAS JUST BEFORE noon as Shane watched Holly walk out onto the dock where he had the rowboat waiting. He couldn’t get his mind off the fact that someone had dared to break into the boathouse and tamper with the boat’s motor. Just thinking about what could have happened made him go cold inside. What if Holly had been on board? As it was, he wouldn’t let her inside the boathouse, and had tied the dingy alongside the dock. She’d called the local police and they’d asked her and Shane to come down to the station later that day to file a report. They had seemed to agree with Holly’s assertion that the incident was most likely a malicious prank.
Shane had his doubts.He’d spent the better part of the morning trying to consider all the possibilities, including terrorism. What if someone knew Holly was at the lake house? What if they wanted to eliminate her and send a message to other American service men and women? Just the thought sent chills through him. In the next instant, he silently berated himself for being overly dramatic. Looking at the lake’s surrounding woodlands, he had a tough time imagining that anything bad could happen in such an idyllic place. But he’d keep his guard up, just the same.
He’d carried down a small cooler and a tote bag for her earlier, and stowed them in the front of the little craft, but Holly had claimed she’d forgotten something and had run back up to the house. Now he saw her camera bag in one hand and had to suppress a groan. His earliest memories of Holly had been of her following him around with a camera, snapping pictures whenever she thought he wasn’t looking.
She wore a short, bright yellow sundress that contrasted warmly with her pale skin, and a wide-brimmed straw hat that cas
t sun-dappled shadows over her face. Her long, slim legs were bare and as he helped her down into the boat, he caught a glimpse of pink panties. He’d been preoccupied with thoughts of the vandalism, but now he groaned inwardly, knowing that brief flash of fabric would haunt him all morning.
He waited until she’d settled herself onto the seat facing him, before untying the line and pushing them away from the dock. He had to extend his injured leg so that it rested beneath Holly’s seat, and they were so close their knees almost bumped. When he leaned forward to grasp the oars, he became distracted by the way her short skirt draped over her bare legs.
“Why did you have to wear a dress?” he grumbled, pulling smoothly on the oars and drawing them out onto the stillness of the lake.
“Why not?” She smiled serenely. “After months of wearing camouflage and combat boots, it feels wonderful to wear something feminine. Do you have a problem with my wearing a dress?”
He eyed her bare knees. “It just seems impractical, that’s all.”
“Mmm. Maybe to you, but to me it seems perfect.” She leaned forward and kissed him, letting her lips linger against his in a way that made him go hard beneath his shorts. Too soon, she pulled away and rearranged her skirt over her thighs. “So where are we going?”
Shane was glad he wore a pair of dark sunglasses, as he couldn’t prevent his gaze from drifting to the shadowed vee between her legs, where her dress fell away and he imagined he could see a bit of pink fabric. “There’s a little island not far from here, where Mitch and I used to go to get away.”
“Ah. As in…away from me?”
Most definitely away from Holly. Going to the island had always been Shane’s idea, since it was the one place he could be guaranteed not to run into Holly. Even at sixteen, she’d been a temptation that he’d found difficult to resist. The only way he’d succeeded was to put as much distance as possible between them.
“Not just you,” he fibbed. “Away from your parents, away from my dad…just away.”
“What did you do once you got away?” She tipped her head and considered him. “If it were anyone but you and Mitch, I’d say you went out there to smoke dope. Or drink.”
Shane laughed. “Yeah, well, we definitely did some drinking out there, and some smoking, too. But just cigarettes, not dope. Mostly, we just hung out. We brought our fishing poles and used those as an excuse to basically do nothing.”
Holly looked disappointed. “Sounds boring. At least tell me that you had some girly magazines or something.”
There had been some magazines, as Shane recalled. Some shockingly graphic magazines that had made his young body go tight with lust, and guaranteed he would have erotic dreams later that night in the boathouse. Those dreams nearly all involved Holly, and he would wake up spent and wet and aching for her.
He gave her a benign smile in answer, and continued rowing. He set a leisurely pace, not overexerting himself but ensuring they’d reach the island before Holly had a chance to become bored. He watched as she draped a hand over the edge of the boat and trailed her fingers through the water, and then drizzled the moisture down her neck. For the first time, Shane noticed the small mark at the base of her neck. He remembered drawing the tender flesh into his mouth and sucking on it. Seeing the evidence of their night together gave him a fierce sense of possessiveness.
“Oh, that feels good,” she sighed, stroking her damp fingers across her skin. “I should have worn a bathing suit.”
“Didn’t you bring one with you?”
“Nope.” She gave him a secretive smile. “I guess I’ll have to skinny-dip if I want to swim. But you’ll only be able to watch, since you can’t get your cast wet.”
“Jesus.” Shane swallowed hard at the image of Holly, naked and dripping with water. He pulled harder on the oars. He could see the island in the distance and if he put his back into it, they could be there in under ten minutes.
Holly took one look at his expression and laughed, but Shane thought she seemed just as eager as he did to reach their destination. Soon, he beached the small craft on the shore of the small island and stepped out onto the sand.
She looked doubtfully at his toes where they protruded from the cast. “Maybe you should cover that with something,” she suggested. “If sand gets in there, you’re going to be very uncomfortable.”
He was going to be uncomfortable, regardless, but the idea of wearing a sock or a plastic sleeve over the cast was even more repugnant.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It’s a swim cast, so contrary to what you said about my not being able to follow you into the water, I actually can. So if sand gets in there, I’ll just rinse it out.” He grabbed the tote bag and the cooler, and opted to leave his cane in the boat. Ignoring Holly’s protests, he extended his free hand to her. “Here, give me your hand. The ground is a little uneven.”
Holly frowned and looked to where his cane lay on the bottom of the boat. “Shane, I’m not going to be responsible for you losing your balance and ending up with a cast on your other leg. Take your cane. I can manage on my own.”
He gave her a look and extended his hand again. He didn’t miss how she rolled her eyes, but she obediently slid her hand into his as he led her away from the water and deeper into the dense growth of the small island.
“Where are we going?”
“To the other side of the island,” he replied, “but it’s not very far. We could have rowed around to the other side, but this is actually quicker.”
Even as he spoke, the trees cleared and they found themselves approaching a deep cove. The lake lapped gently at a small, sandy shore with outcroppings of rock. The tiny inlet was secluded and quiet, and sunlight dappled the water and turned the surface into a million glittering diamonds.
“Oh, how pretty!” Holly exclaimed. “How come I never knew about this place growing up?”
Even as she spoke, she began rummaging through her bag. Pulling her camera out, she sat down in the sand and cradled it in her lap as she twisted one lens off and carefully replaced it with another. Shane watched her, noting how she did most of the work with her good hand, and used her injured arm to balance rather than maneuver the camera. When she attempted to pick the heavy telephoto lens up using her left hand, he could see she had trouble getting a good grip on it. He carefully looked away, pretending not to notice her difficulty.
Holly’s injury was worse than she’d let on. Shane had seen enough combat related wounds to know she’d suffered nerve damage. He set the cooler and bag down on the sand, forcing himself to behave naturally. But he didn’t trust his own expression, so he stood with his back to her and pretended to look out over the cove. He sensed when she came up beside him, holding the camera in her good hand.
“This is beautiful, Shane.” Raising the camera, she fumbled for a second until she got a good grip, and then swiftly snapped several frames of the cove. “The water is so clear that you can see the pebbles on the lake bottom. I can see why you and Mitch used to come out here. Does anyone else ever use the island?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
“Did you ever bring girls out here?”
Shane looked at her, surprised. “Me? No. I think Mitch might have brought a date out here on one or two occasions, but you’ll have to ask him about that. I never brought anyone.”
He’d wanted too, though. He’d imagined bringing Holly out here on more than one occasion, but he’d have never actually done it. He didn’t have the courage. At least, not back then.
“I’m glad I’m your first,” she said. Then, as if sensing his discomfort, she quickly changed the subject. “Here, I brought an old quilt that we can spread out on the sand.”
Replacing the camera, she pulled a folded blanket out of the tote bag, but made no protest when Shane took it from her and shook it out on the ground. He watched as she kicked off her sandals and lowered herself onto the blanket, tucking her bare legs beneath her. After a moment, Shane dropped down beside her.
“So what did you and my brother talk about when you came out here?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I really don’t remember.”
She rested her chin on her shoulder and considered him for a moment. “I’ll never forget the first time I saw you at the drugstore. The girls at Chatham Hall were already talking about the mysterious new guy in town, so I had to see for myself. I thought you were the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.”
Shane gave a bark of surprised laughter. “Me? I don’t think anyone has ever described me as beautiful. As I recall, I was an angry kid with a bad attitude.”
“That just added to your mystique.” She removed her hat and placed it on the blanket beside her. “Why were you angry?”
Shane didn’t want to talk about his adolescence. For the first time that he could recall, he felt…at peace. Talking about those years would only dredge up feelings better left undisturbed. He didn’t expect Holly would understand what he’d been through or how it had colored everything he did.
“Trust me, there’s no mystique where I’m concerned,” he said wryly. “Everything about me is right there on the surface.”
“Okay,” Holly said softly. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he insisted, but he could see she didn’t believe him.
He watched warily as she rose to her knees and walked on them across the blanket toward him. He had a brief glimpse of her pink panties when she hiked up her skirt to straddle him, and his breath left his lungs in a whoosh as her warm thighs bracketed his own. She looped her arms lightly around his neck and leaned back a bit to look at him.
“You don’t always have to be so strong, you know,” she finally said.
“Is that an order?” he asked, in an attempt to inject some humor into a conversation that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.