by Laurel Pace
Like Ken, Dani was eager to be free of the bright lights and sterile, impersonal smells of the emergency room. As they pushed through the swinging doors, Ken pulled her closer to him, and she responded by slipping her arm around his waist. The brush with death had galvanized the tenuous bond growing between them, given them insights into each other's souls that went beyond common words and gestures. Now that they had been reunited, she felt strangely empowered, almost as if she had regained a part of herself. Only when they reached the curb did they pull up short.
"I had almost managed to forget that the van is thirty-five miles away and my keys are floating around somewhere in the Atlantic. We'll need to take a taxi. Do you have any money that's still negotiable?" Dani asked Ken.
Pushing aside his ragged shirttail, Ken dug in his pants pocket and produced a wallet that looked remarkably well preserved, given the thorough soaking it had received that evening. He counted several damp bills and then nodded.
The cabby eyed his bedraggled fare skeptically, but only responded with a resigned "yes, ma'am" when Dani gave him directions to her condo. When the cab pulled into the drive, Ken loosened his hold on her shoulders and an uncertain look passed across his face.
"Since you suffered a concussion, I don't think it's wise for you to go home alone. You can spend what's left of the night here," she told him matter-of-factly.
While Ken paid the taxi driver, Dani unearthed the house key she kept secreted in a hanging planter and unlocked the front door. Never had her neat little home seemed more secure and welcoming. After dispatching Ken to the guest bath, Dani retreated to her bedroom. Her clothes were stiff with dried salt and algae, and she was glad to discard them on the bathroom floor. After a hot shower, she slipped into her oldest, softest sweatsuit and headed for the kitchen. By the time Ken emerged from the bath, dressing in a robe fashioned from safety pins and two large beach towels, she had warmed soup and rolls in the microwave.
"Feel better?" Dani ladled hot vegetable soup into two giant mugs and then scooted one across the breakfast bar.
Ken sniffed the aroma rising from the mug appreciatively and nodded."We're going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, but right now, I don't want to think about any of it." He took a small sip of broth. "I'm just glad we're both here, both still..." His voice faltered, prompting Dani to reach across the counter and hold both his hands with her own.
"It doesn't matter what might have been, Ken. The important thing is that we did make it." She looked up into his face so earnestly, he had to meet her eyes.
"I've never felt so helpless, Dani," he confessed in a low voice choked with emotion. "After we dove off the yacht, I kept telling myself to stay alert, to swim, to hang on to you. But there was always this awful slipping feeling, as if I were sliding down the side of a cliff, losing my hold inch by inch. You saved both of us, Dani. If you hadn't been brave enough and tough enough for two people—" he looked down at their intertwined hands and a tremor rippled through the fine muscles of his face "—we wouldn't be sitting here right now."
"I don't think either of us would have had much luck alone. If you hadn't come to, I don't know if I would have been able to break through the hatch and get us off the boat in the first place." She smoothed his hands, taking comfort in the rugged, vital texture of them.
Ken rolled her hands over, squeezing her wrists lightly. "I guess we sort of make a team, don't we?" For the first time since she had met him, cool-headed, self-possessed Ken McCabe sounded shy.
"I guess." Dani's voice was as soft as the mellow light warming their small corner of the kitchen.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke, as if both mistrusted the words that might give shape to equally revealing thoughts. They had wandered onto untested ground, Dani knew, emotional territory with no safe, predicable paths to follow. Ken eased the tension by giving her hands a gentle shake and then leaning back slightly on the bar stool.
"This is turning into quite an investigation, isn't it?" A smile lightened the haggard lines of his face.
Dani lifted the mug, grimacing over its rim. "I'll call Theo about the yacht, although I'm sure the police have already contacted him. I told them we had gone on board just to have a look at my father's old sailing vessel. That's true enough, and I think Theo will understand. You know, now I'm convinced we were on to something with the boat. Too bad that any evidence we might have found literally went up in smoke."
Ken nodded, dejectedly toying with his mug's handle, and Dani guessed he was confronting the frightening thought haunting both their minds. Her hunch was confirmed when he at last broke the silence. "The person who knocked me on the head and set the yacht on fire also killed Richardson Whyte. Tonight, he intended to kill us."
Dani crumbled a chunk of the roll into her soup, poking at the makeshift croutons with the spoon. "But how did he know we would board the yacht in the first place? It seems more likely that he was looking for something on the boat when we showed up unexpectedly."
"He couldn't afford to be seen, so he panicked," Ken went on, picking up her train of thought.
"Exactly. And he set the yacht on fire to destroy the evidence and any embarrassing witnesses in the process." Ken sighed, folding his aims on the counter as he slumped over the empty soup mug. "If we'd only beat him to whatever it was he wanted to get rid of! I didn't get very far before he slugged me. I don't suppose you found anything even remotely suspicious?" He cast a hopeful glance at her.
Despite the crushing fatigue that had by now almost paralyzed her limbs, Dani folded her arms and smiled. "On the boat, no."
Ken was on to the bait in an instant. "What do you mean?" he demanded.
"Richardson Whyte had a child." She announced her discovery with as little fanfare as Ned Poole had.
To judge from Ken's amazed expression, the revelation had hit him with earth-shaking impact. "Where the hell did you hear that?"
"Ned Poole told me while I was waiting outside the emergency room. He used to do maintenance work on the yacht. He had even recognized the boat when he fished us out of the ocean. Anyway, it seems that one time, Richardson let slip something about a child of his. He clammed up afterward, wouldn't tell Ned anything about it. As Ned put it, Richardson seemed 'too torn up to do much talking on the matter.' Ned assumed Richardson was referring to a baby that had died at birth, and I let him go on thinking that. But I'm not so sure. As far as I know, Richardson and his wife were childless."
"So you think Richardson had an illegitimate child?"
"It's something I would never have suspected, but..." Dani shrugged dubiously. "That isn't the sort of admission a prominent man like Richardson would want to trumpet about."
Ken nodded agreement. "Especially given the Whyte family's obsession with appearances. The last thing they would have been able to handle was the scandal of an illegitimate child. I imagine they would give almost anything to keep that skeleton locked safely in its closet."
Dani gathered up the soup mugs and slid off the stool. "The person who wrote that extortion note could have been banking on just that."
"Precisely what I was thinking!" Ken adjusted the makeshift bathrobe as he followed her to the sink. "Of course, Richardson never said anything to Derek or me about having fathered a child."
Dani rinsed the mugs under the tap, frowning at the water swirling down the drain. "He was a very private man, Ken. I thought the world of him, but, when I spent time with him, I often felt there was a part of himself he held back, a corner of his soul that even his closest friends would never be allowed to see. I don't think it entirely incredible that Richardson would have continued to guard such a painful secret, even when his life was threatened."
"Maybe you're right. At any rate, this information certainly opens up a whole new area for investigation." Ken drew a wary breath and glanced up at the kitchen clock. "Geez, it's three o'clock. I think that investigation can wait another few hours."
His fingers seemed to know exactly which muscles
most needed a deep massage as they plied the back of her neck. Dani rolled her head slowly and stretched, pressing into the deliciously slow and deliberate strokes. As quickly as it had begun, his hand halted its work. Ken stepped back, and Dani straightened herself. For a moment, another of those self-conscious silences hung between them.
"We need to get some sleep. I'll fetch some sheets and make up the sofa bed." Dani smiled as casually as she could and hurried out of the kitchen.
When she returned to the living room with the sheets and a thermal blanket, Ken had removed the sofa cushions and was in the process of unfolding the bed. Together, they tucked the bed linens into place, carefully avoiding bumping into each other as they scooted around the narrow bed.
"I'll see if I can scrounge up a couple of pillows." Hands folded behind her back, Dani backed toward the hall door.
Ken stood by the bed, looking as if he couldn't decide whether he should climb into it or not. Without waiting for him to make up his mind, Dani turned on her heel and headed for her bedroom.
In the past few hours, she had escaped being blown to bits only to come near drowning. Never before in her life had she taken such a battering, mentally and physically; her emotions had been strained to the limit. Right now, she was so died, her arms and legs felt as if they were deadened clumps of wood. Under the circumstances, it was unrealistic to expect herself to be as levelheaded, as clear thinking as usual. If she were her normal self, she wouldn't be reacting to Ken this way at all. Of course, she was attracted to him, more so as time went by. But the thought that had just crossed her mind for a split second—no, make that a very long second—was something she would never have considered at this stage of a relationship.
As she rummaged through the bathroom linen closet, Dani examined the unpredictable feelings Ken's presence in her home had unleashed. Although the atmosphere between them was charged with sensuality, she had to admit that, to some degree, that had always been the case. Ken was a very sexy man, and she had responded to him on that level long before she had begun to like him so much. No, the yearning he had awakened tonight had more to do with closeness. She wanted to be close to him, feel his arms around her, strong and secure, put her arms around him and hug him as tight as she could. Then she would put her head on his chest, he would rest his cheek against her and they would sleep, safe in each others' embrace.
Unfortunately, adults aren't allowed to cuddle, Dani reminded herself as she shook the pillows out of their plastic bags. If we're not wrapped in a passionate clinch, we have to stay at arm's length. Of the two, she knew she must opt for the latter tonight.
She was on her way out of the bathroom when her eye fell on the sad pile of ruined clothing. Stooping Dani picked up the soggy blazer. She had completely forgotten about the photographs she had taken from the Bandeira Branca's cabin. Now that the yacht had been destroyed, her saving the pictures seemed almost providential.
She found Ken sitting on the edge of the bed. Tossing the pillows onto the bed, she sat down beside him.
"Look what I found while I was snooping around the boat." She placed the two pictures on her knees, smoothing the wrinkles out of the damp paper. "That's my father."
Ken's hand rested on one of her shoulders, while his chin hovered near the other. "I'm sorry you never got to know him. Sorry for him, too. He looks like a man who lived life a lot. He would have loved you with all his heart."
Dani edged closer to Ken, grateful for the simple yet heartfelt empathy.
"And that's you?" Ken's bare arm grazed her as he pointed to the gap-toothed little girl.
Dani laughed softly. "It was so long ago, but I must have been seven. That was the year I kept the tooth fairy working overtime, if I remember correctly. Yep, I'm sure I was seven. See? My nose still has the little bump in it." Her fingernail traced the nose's contour in the picture. "I broke my nose playing volleyball when I was eight, and the doctor who repaired it ironed out the bump. Well, now you've seen me at my ugliest. You'll have to show me some childhood pictures of you, just to even the score." She glanced up at him and was surprised by his pensive expression. Ken was looking at the picture as if it were far more important than a faded, grainy snapshot of a pigtailed tomboy with no front teeth.
"I wish I had some to show you—" Ken broke off so abruptly, Dani sensed he wished he could have retracted his words.
"Something happened to your family pictures?" Dani asked gently, imagining a fire or some natural disaster had wiped out the McCabe family's treasury of memories.
Ken shook his head, but his eyes remained fixed on the photograph. "No." He drew a deep, resigned breath. "You see, we weren't much of a family, Dani. Mom died when I was about your age in that picture, and, well, my dad wasn't very good at keeping things together on his own. He'd drink, lose a job, get depressed over that and drink some more. He used to disappear for days on end and finally, one day, he disappeared for good. It was decided to put me in a foster home until my dad showed up again. Most of the foster families I had were all right, I guess." She felt him shrug. "Anyway, that's all in the past. I didn't mean to dump on you. I never talk about this stuff with people, really."
Dani swallowed, trying to find words that were commensurate with the deep, still-throbbing ache reflected in Ken's solemn face. At the same time, she had to choke back her anger at the callous adults who had hurt the lonely, bewildered child still hiding inside Ken.
Following an instinct more trustworthy than any words of consolation, Dani reached up to stroke the lean cheek so close to her own. She caressed the tanned skin, smoothing away the tight lines. Then she turned and in a gesture of the purest concern, of one human being reaching out to another's pain, she pulled his head down, cradling it against her chest. Ken's arms slipped around her, holding her as if they were the only two people left in the world. As they stretched back against the arm of the sofa bed, Dani reached to turn out the light.
A soft haze of fatigue settled over them like a blanket, melding their nestled bodies as they drifted off into sleep. In the dark room, they were two lost children who had at last found each other.
Chapter Nine
The intermittent buzz would not go away. Still in a fog of sleep, Dani pressed her face into the pillow while her hand groped the nightstand in search of the offending alarm clock. She frowned at the pillow's hairy texture, at the relentless alarm that still managed to elude her grasp. When the pillow moved of its own volition, her eyes shot open, gaping directly into the tawny mat of hair covering Ken's chest. As she sat up, she recognized the sofa's end table where she had vainly searched for her clock.
"Phone?" Ken murmured groggfly, lifting his hand from her shoulder to rub his eyes.
"I'll get it. For a second, I thought I was in my bed and the alarm had gone off." Dani mumbled an apology as she padded into the kitchen to silence the phone's irritating buzz. She lifted the receiver, taking a deep, bracing breath before putting it to her ear. Whatever was coming, she wanted to be awake for it.
"Hello?" Dani gripped the receiver with both hands and waited for Theo's opener.
"Whew! You had me worried for a minute there, lady." Ben Carlisle's chuckle tempered his good-humored scolding. "When you didn't pick up and your answering machine didn't kick on, I was beginning to wonder if something was wrong."
"Everything's okay right now." An old friend like Ben deserved at least a marginally honest answer. "What's up?"
"Kate gave me that videotape you wanted to see. I have a few errands to run this morning, and I could drop it off at your place if you're going to be home for the next half hour or so," Ben volunteered.
Dani glanced up at the kitchen clock and then down at her rumpled sweats, mentally computing the time needed to make herself presentable."Around ten will be fine."
"Great! See you shortly!"
Dani hung up the phone and returned to the living room to see what kind of progress Ken was making. He was sitting on the side of the fold-out bed, looking tired and achy a
nd befuddled—exactly the way she felt.
"Ben is on his way over with the videocassette of the Parr legend dress rehearsal. Why don't you make some coffee while I get dressed?" Dani told Ken in passing. "The coffee beans are in the refrigerator door," she called as she ducked into the bathroom.
Just before she closed the door, she heard him mumble, "Beans?"
Dani adjusted the shower head to a refreshingly brisk jet. The prickles of water peppered her body, reminding her of each and every bruise she had earned the previous night. She could only imagine how Ken's head must be throbbing, given the abuse it had endured. They should both feel better after a substantial breakfast. Dani turned off the water and toweled herself gingerly. She threw on a sweater and a pair of slacks, pausing in front of the mirror only long enough to comb out her wet hair. When she reached the kitchen, she found Ken bent over the coffee maker, examining it as if it were a Chinese puzzle.
"How's the coffee coming?"
Ken's skeptical glance suggested that it had not come very far. "Well, I finally figured out which part of this thing grinds the beans. I'm not used to these high-tech kitchen gadgets. Up until this morning, I thought coffee was some dry stuff that you poured hot water over."
"I like cooking from scratch. Why don't you let me take over here?" Dani smiled as she seized control of the coffee machine. "Want to try your hand at scrambled eggs?"
"All depends on how much from scratch you do 'em around here. Do I have to gather the eggs from the scratch-tag chickens?" Ken quipped.
"No, just from the fridge," Dani replied primly, but she was grateful for the good-natured bantering. Joking and laughing as they prepared breakfast helped to ease them through what might have been an awkward situation. Waking up in the arms of a man with whom she had narrowly escaped death was anew experience for Dani, and she suspected that Ken, too, had been caught off balance by the rapidly accelerating intimacy of their relationship.