"I'm sorry, but it's business. It's not something I can ignore. It's something I have to attend to personally. Hopefully, it won't take too long. I'll be back before you know it and we can pick up where we left off. In the meantime, keep smiling for me. I'll call you from the office. You'll be here, won't you?"
He looked down at her pale face, and felt guilty for causing her pain, but there was nothing he could do. He tightened his arms around her waist. His voice was filled with anguish.
"You do believe me, don't you?" He kissed her hard, gently stroking her cheek, his own expression grim.
Skye managed a small tentative smile and nodded, unsure how to respond. The wound that had taken so long to heal was sliced open again. The last thing she wanted was for Walker to see how badly she was affected by his imminent departure and tried hard to keep her feelings under tight restraint.
The door to the cabin closed with a soft thud. Skye listened as Walker drove away before finally giving in and silently allowing her tears to fall.
She told herself she could handle this. She was being stupid to feel this way. She wasn't a teenager anymore but a grown woman. But it didn't help. She knew what she was getting into when she welcomed Walker into her arms and into her bed. But that didn't help either.
Walker hadn't made her any promises and she hadn't asked for any. Nevertheless, her soul was being ripped in two. She wiped away her tears. All she could think about was how she would feel when she had to return home. But she already knew. Of course she did—the same as now, only ten times worse, bereft, empty, and desolate—and a hundred and one other adjectives in between.
When the time came to board that plane to London, Skye knew it would be the hardest thing she would ever do. By then Walker might say he loved her, but past experience taught her that they were just words men said in the heat of the moment. They carried no weight, had no meaning.
Michael had taught her that.
Michael, who had once held her heart, but who had hurt her so badly that she believed she would never love again. But now, when she was finally beginning to think that love was something that didn't just exist in fairy stories, history was repeating itself. Another American held her heart in his hands, albeit in a different time and place. The only distinction being, on this occasion it was Walker who had walked out the door without saying goodbye, not her.
Apart from the fire crackling in the grate, the room was oddly quiet. Skye stared out of the window into early the evening gloom, so deep in thought that she didn't see the wind whipping the waves into a white frothed frenzy. Her mind was in overdrive finding reasons and excuses for Walker's sudden departure. None of the answers satisfied her and, too late she realized, he'd left without leaving his cell phone number.
Wretched and frustrated, all she could do was wait and be patient and hope that he would keep his promise. Patience, the one virtue she needed the most and the one she possessed very little of. She tried not to feel anxious. Her vacation wasn’t over yet, and Walker surely would return before she left for home.
***
Walker drove back to the lodge with total disregard for the island's speed limit. His truck bounced over every rut and pothole in the road, sending pain jarring through his spine. It only served to remind him just how damned stupid he'd been to think he could work and play at the same time. He'd learnt that lesson years ago when a series of relationships failed because of his constant travelling. But no, he'd stupidly allowed himself to become tangled up with a sassy auburn-haired beauty from across the pond.
His temper rose with every mile and more than once he pounded his fist on the dashboard of his truck. He blamed himself for becoming distracted. He shouldn't have spent time with Skye. He should have waited until the investigation was over before getting acquainted with her. But then, he was so sure that there was a link between her and the attacks on his company that getting to know her had seemed like a good idea. Hell, it had been—it was.
She was everything he wanted in his woman and more besides. Intelligent, funny, and so passionate, that a man could drown in her. But he had to admit his timing stank. It wasn't her fault. He should have known better. He should learn to trust his instincts. The blame for this fiasco rested squarely at his door. His cell phone rang again. He snatched it from his shirt pocket and hissed out a gruff ‘hello.’
"Mr. Walker?"
"Yeah. Who's this?"
"It's the night security guard from your building."
"What can I do for you?"
"I've just finished my round and I found the door to your offices ajar. Usually someone lets me know if they’re working late, but I figured they just plain forgot. Anyway, I opened the door thinking I would have a look around just to make sure, you know. It looks as if you've been burgled. There are papers everywhere, desks overturned; the place is in a right mess. I've called the cops, but I thought you ought to know."
Walker's temper flared from simmering to white-hot anger for the fifth time that night. He silently asked himself what else could go wrong. He raked his hand through his hair, and wondered which God he had angered this time to be thrown yet another curve ball.
"Thanks for letting me know. I’m on my way back to Seattle. I'll get someone to meet the police and make a preliminary assessment of what's missing."
The nearer Walker got to the lodge, the angrier he became. The truck skidded to a halt and he killed the engine. He let himself in, hit the light switch, and picked up the phone on his way to the study. Punching a pre-stored number, he paced the floor while waiting for the call to connect. He’d been totally irresponsible, there was no other explanation for it. He wouldn't blame McCabe if he hung his ass out to dry. He had done the one thing he always promised himself he would never do; relax on the assumption that the illegal dumping and attacks on his company had stopped.
But he'd been wrong, very wrong.
His lips thinned into a hard line as he wondered why it was taking so long for someone to answer the phone. It was supposed to be manned twenty-four hours a day, for God's sake. He disconnected the call in disgust, and punched in the numbers for the laboratory instead. Someone answered immediately.
"Have the cops arrived yet? Is there much damage?"
"Yeah, the cops are crawling all over the place like a rash. As for damage, it's real hard to tell what's here and what is missing. Someone made a thorough job of trashing the place, that's for sure."
Walker ran a hand through his hair. "What about the equipment, the microscopes and the slide drawer, are they intact?"
"The 'scopes have been thrown off the benches, so who knows. The slides are everywhere underfoot and the chemicals cupboard is completely empty. I keep on yelling at the cops to watch where they walk, but those guys take no notice of me. I guess the answer is that until we get the worst of the mess cleared up and check the records, assuming the computers still work, we'll never know."
Walker sighed. "We still keep a paper record of the contents of the slide drawer though, don't we?"
"Until tonight we did—depends if it's still here under all this mess."
"Do what you can. I'm arranging extra security. When they arrive, go home. There'll be enough to sort out in the morning."
Walker leaned back in the large leather chair and stared out of the study window. Normally he found the room a comfortable place in which to sit. But tonight his world was coming apart.
Not only was someone out to ruin him, but he’d left the one woman who stirred him in ways he hadn't believed possible. It would serve him right if Skye didn't trust him. He hadn't given her a plausible explanation for his sudden departure other than to say that it was business. How many men used that excuse when they walked out the door never to return? He felt like a first class jerk, and there was nothing he could do about it.
The sadness in her eyes had cut him to the core. His hand hovered over the telephone on his desk. Was it too late to call or would it sound as if he were making some feeble excuse and simply make
matters worse?
If Skye could see the expression on his face at that moment, she would have recognized it as one of despair. Frowning in exasperation, he decided to leave things as they stood. There’d be time for explanations later. For the moment he had enough to worry about and his love life wasn't on top of his list of priorities.
Both his Seattle office and the laboratory to the south of the city had been broken into that evening. Luckily no one had been hurt. Instinct told him these were no random acts of vandalism. His company had been specifically targeted, but by whom? He had no doubts as to why.
This was all connected with the illegal dumping of chemical waste and the large quantity of dead fish washing up in the San Juans, that much he was sure of. But why trash his office and the labs? Unless of course, someone thought he was getting close to identifying them.
The grandfather clock in the corner of his study struck the hour. Walker realized he'd spent far longer at the lodge than he’d planned. He doubted that anything would be achieved by flying over to Seattle tonight, but he decided to make the journey anyway. If the howling wind were any indication, it would be a bumpy ride. But he'd flown in worse.
Two hours later he walked into the shambles that once had been his office. The security guard hadn't lied. The cops were already trawling over the debris; busy checking for fingerprints as they went, but Walker sensed it would take days rather than hours to shift through the chaos and assess what, if anything, was missing. No cash was kept on the premises, so the usual suspects of drug addicts looking for a means of funding their next fix could be excluded. This was a professional job; that much was apparent even to his untrained eye.
Whole filing cabinets were upended, their contents strewn across the floor. Not even his executive suite had escaped. The large expensive mahogany desk was totally ruined. Computers were smashed to pieces. If the backup disks were missing too, then data from every project his company had been involved in was destroyed.
Equipment could easily be replaced, but the data had taken years to collect and the information was invaluable. Walker Environmental Research had built a record of every business in the USA and some in other parts of the world that disposed of toxic waste by illegal means. Thankfully, the majority of the reports he'd prepared over the years were a matter of public record, and the data from those could be reassembled.
He had a hunch that all the information from this current investigation would be missing.
Chapter Thirteen
Skye threw the book she was reading on to the floor and hurriedly snatched the phone off the table.
"Oh, Debbie, it's you."
"Yeah it's me. You sound kind of disappointed."
"Sorry, I was expecting another call."
"I only rang to see how you are, but if you're waiting to hear from someone else, I can ring back later."
"No, it's all right. He's probably not going to call anyway."
"He, as in John? I thought you weren’t going to give him this number. Or by any chance would it be a far more interesting member of the male species you're waiting for?"
"I haven't changed my mind and given John this number."
"Oh, come on, Skye. This is like pulling teeth. Just who are we talking about here?"
"If you must know I’m expecting Walker to call."
"Walker! Your ‘Mr. Damn Your Eyes’ guy? Well, I'll be damned myself. You mean to tell me, you two have been spending time together? I was under the impression you couldn't stand the sight of each other."
"We can't. I mean we couldn't. Oh, it's entirely your fault!"
"What makes you think that?"
"If you hadn't forced me to spend the afternoon with him, none of this would have happened. I would be out enjoying myself instead of … instead of—"
"Sitting around and waiting for him to call? Excuse me, but haven't you been telling me for several months that the word ‘No’ is the only word in your vocabulary? Why didn't you exercise your right to use it?"
"Debbie, this is not funny. If you hadn't backed me into a corner, we wouldn't be having this ridiculous conversation."
"Maybe not, but then you wouldn't be waiting for Walker to call either. So stop moaning and accept things for what they are—a change for the better."
"I guess you're right."
"You know I am. So come on, spill. What's been happening between you two? I want all the drippy, gooey, romantic details."
"There's nothing to tell. We spent the afternoon together as agreed, and then a few days later he called round with a bottle of wine and we had dinner together."
"And? There has to be more to it than that, otherwise why are you sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring?"
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. Don't deny it."
"What if I am? It's no big deal. Anyway, he’s gone away on business."
"And that's all? I don't believe it. There's something you're not telling me."
"No, there isn't."
"You're hiding something major. You've slept with him, haven't you?"
Skye wished that Debbie would drop the subject. She wasn't ready to divulge such intimate details. Her relationship with Walker was too new to share with anyone, especially her best friend. She finally settled for half-truths.
"It was late when we finished dinner and so he spent the night here."
"Oh yeah? You'll be telling me there are mermaids in the cove and you're one in training now. I suppose he was a perfect gentleman and slept on the couch fully clothed. Nope, I'm not buying it, Skye. That's one red blooded American male and anyone can see he's got the hots for you. Come on this is me, remember? I know you too well. I can tell when you're holding something back."
"So, we slept together! I'm told it's all the rage between consenting adults."
"At last. You know it's taken me ten minutes to drag that out of you." Debbie's tone softened. "It's unbelievable. You've actually slept with him? What came over you? You normally keep men at arm length and look at them as if they've got two heads. What's so special about Walker that made you change your mind? Was this just a one-night stand or are you two a couple? You weren't a little tipsy, were you?"
"I guess we got off on the wrong foot. Now we've stopped arguing, we actually get on quite well."
"You get on well together, huh? I get on with my next-door neighbor but I wouldn't sleep with him. I suppose that’s one reason to get into the sack with someone. But me, I prefer someone who's a good kisser and makes me tingle from head to toe. Don't you find him attractive?"
"Now you're being stupid."
"Not as stupid as you for letting it take this long. Anyway, I can't see what all the fuss is about. The guy's had to go off on business, so what? He said he'd call, didn't he?"
"When he got to the office. But he's been gone two days and I've heard nothing."
"So, be a big girl and call him."
"I can't. I don't know the number."
"A small thing like that shouldn't stop you. There is such a thing as a telephone directory. And you know his office is in Seattle, he told you that, right?"
"Yes, he did, but even if I knew the name of his firm, don't you see I can't call him. I have to wait for him to call me that way I'll know."
"Know what?"
"Know that he's telling me the truth."
Debbie suddenly realized this wasn't about Walker’s abrupt departure. This was about something far more serious. This had something to do with Michael, she was sure of it.
"Skye, Walker's not like Michael. I'd bet my life on it. If he said he'd call, I imagine he will. Look, maybe things just got out of hand and he’s not able to get to a phone, right now. You of all people know that things aren't always as straightforward as they seem. Give the man a chance, at least."
"That's what I'm trying to do. If he's different, why do I have a feeling that history is repeating itself?"
"I can't answer that, as you've never told me the full Michael story. Maybe it's time yo
u did. Who knows, I might understand what's making you think like this. Besides, you don't want what happened with Michael to control your life forever, do you? And I'm sure you don't want end up becoming a bitter old spinster either."
In spite of her reluctance to reveal the extent of Michael's transgressions, a hint of despondency crept into Skye's voice. "I wish it was that simple. There are other considerations and besides, you're at work, anyone could overhear."
"You're right, now's not the time. I won't push you anymore. I'll call when I get home. If you feel up to telling me then, fine. If not, we'll talk about something mundane, like the weather. But try and cut Walker a little slack, okay?"
Three Weeks Last Spring Page 12