by Talia Hunter
“Those fish,” she said. “You think they’d eat human flesh?”
His only hint of surprise was a twitch of his eyebrows. “Should I be worried about that question?”
“I was wondering if you could dispose of a body by attaching it to the posts.”
“The fish would eat the flesh and leave the bones. You’d still have the skeleton to deal with.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Somebody upset you that much?” His eyes were still on the water, and his tone stayed mild.
She sighed. “I was hoping I’d never have to so much as hear his name again. No such luck.”
“Someone in Sydney? An ex-boyfriend?”
“Not an ex-boyfriend. But I don’t want to talk about him. I won’t give him a single thing, not even the amount of time it would take to tell you about him. He’s trying to upset me, but I won’t let him.”
He grunted. After a moment, he said, “The fish like bread. Sometimes as kids, Tiny and I used to bring our breakfast down here, and we’d crumble leftover toast into the water.”
What a sweet picture that made, his sister and him sitting in just this spot. And she was grateful he wasn’t pushing her to talk about Otto. A lot of guys would, and she hated that kind of crap. The fact he was being so understanding was completely at odds with the way he was pushing Tiny around.
“Shame we don’t have anything to feed them with,” she said. “We should bring some bread down, next time.” It was another entry for her Dalton Project spreadsheet. Another activity to put in the Like column.
“I like the idea of tying the bodies of our enemies to the piles. We should do that.”
She laughed. And was immediately surprised that she could laugh so soon after discovering Otto had violated her email account. It was entirely thanks to Dalton.
Sitting here like this, she couldn’t help but like him. Especially remembering how he’d looked with his hands full of the flowers he’d gathered for Tiny. It was easy to forget he was forcing Tiny out of her home. In fact, doing something so awful seemed entirely out of character.
“You have many enemies?” she asked.
“Don’t worry, I’ll leave a little space for yours. Even if we need to stack them ten deep, we’ll fit ‘em all in.”
Watching him smile, the way his eyes sparkled and the light fell across the angles of his face, she felt light, and her worries about Otto seemed unimportant. She’d work things out. All she had to do was make sure Otto was locked out of everything, and that Carin was safe. After all, Otto couldn’t touch her over here. Hacking her email was probably a last-ditch desperate measure to get under Rosa’s skin.
“You know something?” she said. “I can’t figure you out.”
“In what way?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him about his plans to sell the resort. But the ferry had finally appeared and they didn’t have long before it docked. Besides, if she laid all her cards on the table, the Dalton Project might not work. He’d probably suspect what she was up to.
She shook her head. “Never mind, Captain Plunder.” She got to her feet. “The ferry’s almost here. But thanks for sitting with me and taking my mind off things. It helped.”
“What’s your pirate name?” he asked, looking up at her, but not making any move to rise.
“How do you know I have one?” When his expression took on a ‘you’re not fooling me’ look, she flushed. “Rosa Roughknuckles.”
To her surprise, his lips didn’t so much as twitch. “Rosa Roughknuckles.” He gave her a nod and rose slowly to his feet. “Suits you.”
“Really?” She grinned, a warm flush going through her. “You think so?”
He tipped his head forward, a single acknowledging nod, before turning to walk back to the resort. She watched him go, a little unsettled. How come he was being so charming?
She didn’t want to be attracted to her boss, especially when he was her best friend’s brother. That would be a terrible idea. Totally unprofessional. Stupid, even, considering he was trying to force Tiny to give up her home. The ultimate betrayal. Not to mention that Rosa could be out of a job.
But if Rosa managed to change his mind, what then? She could stay on and look after the resort while Dalton took Tiny to Sydney for the treatment she needed, and then brought her back to Lantana. He wouldn’t be the bad guy anymore, and everyone would get what they wanted. Surely she could make him see that was the only option that made sense?
If she could, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she were attracted to Dalton. Would it?
10
“You have to take her,” said Dalton.
On the other end of the phone, Doctor Cooper sounded older and more serious than the youthful, smiling photo on the stroke center’s website had suggested. “As I’ve already said, Mr. Knight, I’m not taking any new patients. There are other, highly qualified doctors who—”
“I’ve been reading about your success rate. My sister’s right arm is completely paralyzed, which means she can’t paint. That might not sound like a big deal to you, but it means everything to her.” Dalton leaned back in his office chair, frowning at his computer screen. All the research he’d done had led him to this man. He wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
“Without seeing her, I can’t tell you how much mobility your sister will be able to recover. But if it’s a full paralysis, I’m afraid the odds aren’t in her favor.”
“That’s what they told us at the hospital, and now she doesn’t even want to try. Some days it’s a struggle just to get her out of bed.”
The doctor’s tone softened. “I’m afraid my colleagues and I walk a fine line between being encouraging and not wanting to raise a patient’s expectations. We don’t always get that balance right.”
“My sister needs hope. Which means she needs you.”
“I’m going to be working on another project for at least the next year, but I’d be happy to treat your sister once I’m back at the stroke center.”
Not good enough. Dalton had read enough to know how important it was to start the treatment as soon as possible. A year would be too late. “Tiny will be back in Sydney within three weeks, and I want you to treat her. If it’s a question of money, name your price. I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
“Let me refer you to my colleague, Doctor Harrison. He’s an excellent doctor who’ll be able to give your sister the best possible care.”
Although Dalton jotted down Harrison’s name and number, he wasn’t done with Doctor Cooper. “Tell me you’ll at least think about my offer,” he said before he hung up. “You can write your own check. I don’t care what it costs.”
After the call, he sat at his desk, absently running his fingers over the cane he’d finally finished carving. Every day Tiny refused to leave the island was an opportunity lost. There were all kinds of new and experimental treatments going on. Studies, test groups, clinical trials. If Doctor Cooper wouldn’t help her, he’d find someone who would. But he had to get Tiny to Sydney.
Time to go and talk to her again. She’d be waiting for him, expecting him back so they could eat together.
He took the cane with him and went out to the reception area, pausing outside Rosa’s office door. “Saturday,” Rosa said, obviously talking to someone on the phone. “Yes, that’s right. Good. I know it’s late notice, but you won’t let me down, will you?”
Rosa sounded tired. It was after six o’clock, and every time he’d come past her door, he’d seen her inside working hard. Still, when she hung up, he stepped into her office. “I need to talk to you for a moment.”
Turning to him, her gaze dropped to the walking stick he was holding. “That’s beautiful,” she said. “Is it for Tiny?”
He nodded. “Lantana flowers. The island was named for them.”
“You didn’t carve it yourself, did you? Oh, wait. That’s why there are wood chips on the floor of your office, right?” Her expression softened. “That’s a really nice thing
to do for your sister.”
“Listen,” he said. “I need you to reserve a bure for a guest who’s arriving on Wednesday’s ferry. Mr. Smythe.”
She turned to the computer. “Wednesday. Okay. A few of the wedding guests are leaving that day, so we’ve got space.”
“Give him bure six or seven, closest to the water. Move people if you need to. I want him to have the best room.”
“How long is he staying?”
“Probably just a couple of days.” He hesitated. Should he tell Rosa why Smythe was coming? He hadn’t told Mere or any of the other staff yet. But he already had a conditional contract for the sale of the resort on his desk, and assuming Smythe didn’t encounter any issues, the deal should be finalized quickly.
“It’s important Mr. Smythe sees the best of Lantana,” he said, making his mind up. “He might buy the resort.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Already?”
“Already?” He repeated, frowning. “You knew I was selling the place?”
“Tiny told me. She doesn’t want to move to Australia. At least, not permanently.”
“Does everyone know? I wanted to keep it quiet until the sale was confirmed.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “But this is Tiny’s resort, isn’t it? You can’t sell it if she doesn’t agree.”
He and Tiny had started out with equal shares in the place, but a few years ago, Tiny had asked him to build two more bures and expand the restaurant. He’d given her the money, of course, no strings attached. But she’d insisted it was only a loan, and had drawn up a contract that put up her share of the place as collateral. Technically, he could call in the loan and sell the place without her consent. Not that he’d go that far.
He checked his watch and turned for the door. “I don’t have time to discuss this now. Tiny’s waiting for me.”
“Wait.” She stood up, her expression anxious. “Are you coming to the kava ceremony tonight? It’s at eight, so right after dinner. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Kava was a traditional Fijian drink, a mild narcotic, with a ritual attached to its consumption. Dalton had been too young to try it when he’d lived on the island as a boy, but he’d always been curious. “I’ll be there,” he said.
He found his sister in the living room of what he still thought of as their parent’s house, although it had been almost completely rebuilt after the cyclone. Tiny was standing up, holding the back of the couch for support. Instead of her nightdress, she wore loose pants and a T-shirt. The ankle brace that helped strengthen her weak leg was half-hidden under her pants.
Dalton stopped dead. His sister had done her hair and was wearing a little make up. It was a huge change from the way she’d been since the stroke. Some days she’d been so depressed, he and the therapist had barely been able to cajole her into doing any exercise at all.
His throat was tight with a sudden rush of hope, but he forced himself to sound as casual as possible. “You’re going somewhere?”
“Coming to dinner.” Her eyes widened when she saw the cane he was carrying. “That’s for me?”
“Could be.” She was holding onto the couch with her one good hand, so he slipped his arm around her waist to support her while he gave it to her.
“Lantana flowers,” she said, lifting it for a closer look. “They’re lovely. And silvereyes.”
“So you can carry some of the smells and sounds of the island. In spirit, anyway.”
Her lopsided smile held enough sadness to break his heart. “Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing his arm. “I love it.” Tiny’s speech was less slurred tonight. It went like that sometimes, getting better and worse. He couldn’t wait until she got proper treatment.
“If you want to thank me, come to Sydney and get well there. I’ll find us a house overlooking the harbor so you’ll still wake up to the sound of the ocean.”
She shook her head. “Our parents built Lantana. We belong here.”
“This place killed them both, in the end. You want it to kill you too?”
“If we go, it will have been for nothing.”
It was the most complex sentence she’d managed since her stroke. “Hey,” he said. “That came out pretty well.”
She gave him a smug look. “Then agree. Stay on Lantana. Both of us here, we could make it amazing.”
“Sorry, sis. Truth is, you need to leave. You’ve got no choice if you want to get better.” He was about to say, and start painting again, but stopped himself. No sense in picking at that wound.
“Don’t want to sell it.”
“But you know you can never live here again. You need to be close to medical care, and Lantana’s too far away. Something else happens to you here, you’ll be screwed.” He gave her a stern look. “You’ll love Sydney, you’ll see. It won’t be like it was when we were kids. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Never again, I promise.”
Tiny was wearing a stubborn expression and he could see he hadn’t convinced her. Her face looked a little more drawn than when he’d come in, and the way she shifted against him, he thought her legs must be getting tired. She might be having a good day, but talking for too long exhausted her.
He’d wanted to tell her the buyer was visiting the resort on Wednesday, but this was the first time Tiny had wanted to eat in the staff dining room since her stroke. Now wasn’t the time to tire her any further.
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go to dinner.”
Dalton escorted her out the front door and down the path. Rosa and Mere were already sitting at the big dining table, laughing at something. When Dalton and Tiny walked in their laughter cut off.
“Tiny.” Mere jumped to her feet, delight in her voice. “How are you feeling?”
Rosa got up and hugged Tiny too, and the three women sat down together while Dalton got Tiny a plate of food. They talked eagerly, the other women carrying the conversation with Tiny adding an occasional comment. Then Winston and Celina came in, and the atmosphere turned festive. Tiny obviously had a good relationship with her staff, and when Rosa started telling tales from their school days, the laughter only got louder.
Dalton sat back and watched, feeling like the outsider in their shared camaraderie. After their father succeeded in drinking himself to death here, Tiny had dropped out of art school to come back to Lantana and restore the run-down resort he’d been neglecting for years. Dalton hadn’t wanted to go near the place. In fact, he’d tried his best to convince her to sell it.
It had taken Tiny years to pay off the enormous loans their father had taken out on the place, and if she knew how much more than his share Dalton had secretly contributed, she’d be shocked. He didn’t need to put as much money into it these days, thanks to Tiny’s hard work. But his sister hadn’t just built a resort that was on the verge of finally making a profit, she’d also gathered a group of people who obviously cared for each other.
It was more than he’d done. But then, he’d never wanted that, had he? Looking out for Tiny was enough for him, especially when things went wrong, as they inevitably did, and caring turned to pain.
Still, listening to the easy way the resort’s employees laughed together, Dalton’s chest grew tight. Tiny looked happier tonight than since he’d arrived to take care of her. He could see why she didn’t want to leave Lantana. Which would make it even more difficult for him to convince her to let all this go.
11
On the grass beside the restaurant was an area set up for the kava ceremony. Fire torches had been pushed into the ground to make a large circle, and mats and cushions laid inside it. The fire torches were all lit, burning brightly with a faint tang of kerosene. Dalton settled himself down inside the circle with the guests, trying to get comfortable on one of the cushions. He wasn’t used to sitting on the ground.
Once everyone was seated in a rough semi-circle, Rosa turned off the restaurant lights, plunging the building into darkness. The firelight from the torches danced brighter now they were
the only thing lighting up the night. The guests around him murmured in low voices, the atmosphere charged with expectant excitement.
A moment later, they heard the slow beat of a drum coming from the darkness. The sound got closer, until three Fijian men emerged. The one in the lead held a fire torch, the one in the middle carried a large wooden bowl, and the one at the back pounded a wooden drum in time with their footsteps. They were bare-chested, wore long grass skirts, and had a circle of leaves tied around each forearm. The one leading was the oldest. Although his hair was grey and his body sagged with age, he walked tall, proud and strangely regal. Mere’s father was the village chief on a neighboring island, Dalton remembered.
Before they reached the gathering, Rosa snuck into the circle and Dalton shifted to make room for her. With one of the guests close on her other side, she was squeezed against him with her knee leaning against his. Because of the flickering firelight it was difficult to be sure, but when he caught her eye he thought she flushed a little.
Her request for him to take her sailing had suggested she was interested in him. If so, it was becoming clear why she’d made such a point of inviting him to this ceremony. They were pressed together, and even with all the people around them, the firelight and chanting made the evening feel romantic.
Despite his age, Mere’s father settled himself easily on the mat. The other two men sat on either side of him, placing the big wooden bowl carefully down. It was filled with a dark liquid.
The chief cleared his throat. His voice came out in a low rumble, full of quiet power. “We welcome you to this place,” he said. “Please feel at home here, and we wish you good luck for your stay.” He nodded to the bowl and the man by his side put his hands in the liquid and pulled out a bundle. Something — presumably Kava root — was wrapped in a dripping cloth. “Now we prepare the kava for you.”
The younger man started squeezing the bundle, working it with both hands, dipping it in the water, then wringing it so dark liquid came out.