by Raye Morgan
Yup. It was her all right. And she was keeping notes. So what now?
He considered his alternatives. Direct confrontation was usually counterproductive. She would just deny that she had any interest in him at all, and slink away.
And then what? Very likely, whoever had sent her would just send someone else. Another case of treating the symptom instead of the cause. His curiosity had been aroused now. He wanted to know who was behind this and why.
The only way to make a real attempt at getting to the bottom of the situation would be to get to her somehow—earn her trust, maybe. Get her to talk. But first he would have to draw her out, force her into making a move that would prove her intent.
And why not? He had nothing better to do for the next hour or so of his life.
With a shrug, Joe leaned down to pick up his surfboard, and started toward the next pier. It was undergoing renovation and there were signs posted warning people to stay away. Nice and out of the way, with most of the beach crowd focused in another direction, it would be perfect.
He trudged through the sand, letting his natural inclination exaggerate the slight limp he still had from the leg that was only beginning to fully heal after almost a year of recuperation.
He didn’t even turn to see if she was following. He just assumed she would be. The type who tried to mess with his life always followed the script to the letter, and he had no doubt she would do the same.
Kelly Vrosis bit her lip as she watched the man who called himself Joe Tanner start walking. She saw where he was headed—way off the beaten path. Her heart began to thump in her chest. Should she follow him? She was going to have to if she was going to do this thing right, wasn’t she?
She only had one week, and she’d already wasted a day and a half not daring to get close enough to really do anything observant. Either she was going to document all Joe Tanner’s activities and figure out if he was who she thought he was, or she wasn’t, and she’d wasted a lot of time and credibility on a wild-goose chase. Taking a deep breath, she fingered the little digital camera hidden in her pocket, and rose slowly to her feet, ready to do what had to be done.
“Here goes,” she muttered to herself, and then started off down the beach, staying higher, closer to the storefronts, trying to be as invisible as possible, but still keep the tall, muscular figure of the man she was following in sight.
She was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed her. She wasn’t the sort who usually got noticed in crowds, and she’d worked hard on an outfit that would keep her anonymous.
Yesterday, after she’d driven out from the airport and checked into a motel room close to the address she’d found for Joe, she’d walked by his little beach house twice, so nervous she’d thought she couldn’t breathe as she went quickly past his gate. She had no idea what she would do when she finally came face-to-face with the man she’d been researching for months now. The whole thing had become ridiculously emotional for her. Oh Lord, what if she passed out?
She didn’t really expect that to happen, but it was true that there was something about him that sent her pulse racing—though she would never have admitted it to her coworkers, who had tried to talk her out of coming.
She worked as an analyst at a bureau in Cleveland, Ohio, the Ambrian News Agency. A child of Ambrian parents herself, she was fast becoming an expert in all things Ambrian. The little island nation of her ancestry wasn’t well-known, especially under the current xenophobic regime. She’d taken as her special area of expertise the children of the monarchy that had been overthrown twenty-five years before.
It was recorded that they all had been killed that night of the coup, along with their parents, the king and queen. But now there was some question as to whether a few may have survived. And when she’d opened the national newsmagazine almost a year ago now and caught sight of a picture of Joe Tanner, returning war hero, she’d gasped in immediate recognition.
“Ohmigosh! He looks just like…Oh, it can’t be! But he sure does look like…”
She knew it was nuts right from the beginning, and everyone she worked with agreed.
So she’d dug into the life of Joe Tanner and used all the resources available to her at the agency to find out all she could. Meanwhile, she became one of the top experts on the royal children. She knew everything about them that was to be known. And a few things that weren’t. And she became more and more obsessed.
Now here she was, testing out her theory in real time. And scared to death to actually talk to the man.
It wasn’t like her to be such a ninny. She’d grown up with two brothers and usually had an easy time dealing with men on the whole, but ever since she’d caught sight of Joe’s face in that magazine article, she’d put him in a special category. She knew he was an extraordinary man, from what she’d read about him. He’d done things—and survived things—that no one she knew had ever done. What was he going to do when he realized that she was prying into his life?
“Kelly, you can’t do this,” Jim Hawker, the older man who was her boss and office mate, had warned when she confided her plan to him. “You’re letting a wacky obsession take over your common sense. You took one look at that picture and your overactive imagination created a huge conspiracy around it.”
“But what if I’m right?” she’d insisted passionately. “I have to go to California and see what I can find out. I’ve got two weeks of vacation. I’ve got to see for myself.”
Jim had grimaced. “Kelly, you’re going to be annoying a man who has done things to people with his bare hands that you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmares. If he really is who you think he is, what makes you think he’s going to be happy that you figured it out? Let it go. It’s a crazy theory anyway.”
“It’s not crazy. It’s way out, I’ll admit. But it’s not crazy. Just think how important it could be to the Ambrian community if I’m right.”
“Even if you’re right, you’ll be poking a tiger with a stick. Without the blessings of the agency, you’ll be all alone. No backup.” He shook his head firmly. “No, Kelly. Don’t do it. Go to Bermuda. Take a cruise. Just stay away from California.”
But she couldn’t stay away from California. She had to find out if she was right. She’d promised Jim she would be very careful. And she wouldn’t approach the man himself until she was sure of how she would be received.
Of course, once she’d arrived it had all turned out to be a lot harder than she’d bargained for. She’d picked him out of a crowd right away, but she’d begun to realize she wasn’t going to find out much just by observing him. She needed more—and time was short. That morning she’d spent an hour watching him surf, all the while trying to map out a plan. She was going to have to interrogate people who knew him.
Well, maybe not “interrogate.” More like “chat with.” She’d already begun to make a list of likely contacts, including the man who ran the little produce store on the corner of his block. The two had seemed quite friendly as she’d caught sight of Joe buying a bag of fruit there on his way home the night before. Then there was the model-pretty girl who lived in the tiny beach cottage next door to his. She’d positioned herself to say hello to him twice already, and though he didn’t seem to respond with a lot of enthusiasm, he did smile. She might know something. He didn’t seem to throw those smiles around too freely.
And what a smile he had. It made Kelly shiver a little just to remember it, and it hadn’t even been aimed at her.
There were also the neighbors on the other side of his house—two college students who shared an apartment in the two-story building. She’d seen him talking to them as they got their racing bikes out that morning, so they might know something. She’d worn shorts and a T-shirt and jogged slowly up and down his street early enough to be rewarded with that glimpse of his day. Then she’d watched as he walked off toward the beach, surfboard tucked under his arm, and she’d quickly donned her current baggy outfit to keep him from noticing that he might have seen her before.
This had been a lot of work, and so far, she’d reaped very little in the way of rewards. Despite her trepidation, she was feeling a little grumpy. She’d hoped for more.
Kelly kept her distance, continuing to skirt the beach by staying up near the buildings. But she noticed they were mostly boarded up now. The stores had petered out into a semi-industrial area, and it looked as though this whole section of shore had been condemned for demolition and renovation. She glanced around, noting that no one seemed to be about.
And then she looked back at where Joe had been walking.
Wait a minute. She froze. She’d lost him.
She hesitated, realizing she’d last sighted him just before he’d gone behind an old fishing boat someone had hauled up onto the sand. She’d spent a moment of inattention gazing out at the ocean, then at the old buildings.
So where was he? He couldn’t have stopped there.
Had he gone under the closed pier? There was more beach on the other side and she waited a moment, searching for him, expecting him to pop out and continue walking on across the empty sand, but he didn’t.
There was no one on that side of the pier. The shore turned rocky there, and a fog was rolling in—a bad combination for surfers. Why was he carrying his board if he didn’t plan to surf? To keep it safe, she supposed, but it seemed a long way around. Where was he going, anyway?
Glancing back at where she’d begun, she frowned. The sun still shone and people still swarmed the sidewalks, but they looked faraway now. The scene ahead seemed still and eerie.
What should she do now?
Kelly pressed her lips together. She had to keep going. She didn’t want to have to waste a lot of time staking out his house again and hoping he’d appear, as she had the day before. Too boring and very little payoff. Now that she had a fix on him, it would be better to keep on the trail right here and now.
Except he’d disappeared behind a boat or under a pier.
With a sigh, she started off. She was going to have to find out which.
The wet sand felt cold against her bare feet. The fog was rolling in fast, and there was no longer any evidence that a sun existed at all. She walked quickly around the old boat, eyeing the peeling paint and barnacles. No sign of Joe. She was going to have to walk under the pier.
She wrinkled her nose. The place was hardly inviting. Dark and dank and creaking, it smelled bad and looked worse. Shadows hid too many angles from view. Crabs scurried from one piling to another. Even the water had a scummy look.
Kelly paused, peering toward the beach, wondering where he could have gone. The fog was too thick to see far. She was going to have to walk through to the other side to really see anything. An eerie foghorn sounded off the shore, completing the strange ocean feel.
Wasn’t this the way most murder mysteries began?
She hesitated a moment longer. Did she really have to do this? Couldn’t she just go back the way she’d come? Anyone with any sense would be on her way already. But Kelly was still going. This was what she’d come for…
With another sigh, she stepped under the crumbling supports of the pier, walking quickly to get it over with. Each step took her farther from the light and sank her more deeply into the cold and clammy gloom. She tried to keep her attention on the hints of daylight ahead. Just a few more steps and she would be out…
When the hand came shooting out of nowhere and yanked her hood off her head, she gasped and stumbled in surprise.
“So you are a girl,” a rough voice said. “What the hell do you want?”
The shock sent her reeling. She couldn’t scream, and her legs weren’t working right. She looked up frantically, her heart in her throat, trying to see who this was.
Joe Tanner, the man she’d been following? Or someone else, someone more sinister?
This wasn’t how she’d planned it. She wasn’t ready. She could hardly make him out in the gloom, and wasn’t sure if this was the man she had spun her theories about or not. Whoever he was, he was just too big and too overwhelming. Everything in her rebelled, and mindlessly, Kelly turned and ran toward daylight.
Although she felt as if she was screaming, she didn’t hear a sound. Only the crunch of sand under her feet, her breath coming fast, and finally, the grunt as he tackled her and threw her to the beach, his hard body coming down on top of hers.
A part of her felt complete outrage. How dare he do this to her?
Yet another part felt nothing but fear. The way the fog had closed in around them, she knew no one had seen what he’d done. She couldn’t hope for help from a passerby—not even a cell phone call to the police. It was as though they were in their own world. Jim’s warning flashed in her head: You don’t want to be alone with this guy when he realizes you’re studying him.
Her mind frantically searched for all the lost details of that women’s survival course she’d taken three years ago. Where were those pressure points again?
“Who are you?” His hand was bunched in the fabric of her sweatshirt. “Why are you tailing me?”
She sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, catching her breath. At least he hadn’t hurt her. For now, he wanted to talk, not wrestle. Straining to turn her head so that she could see around the edge of her hood, she looked at the man who had her pinned to the ground with the weight of his body, and she saw what she’d been hoping to see.
Yes, this was Joe Tanner. Relief flooded her and she began to relax, but then she remembered Jim’s warning again. Kelly was in an odd situation. She knew Joe had no right to treat her like this—but what was she going to do about it?
“Could you let me up?” she asked hopefully.
“Not until I know why you’ve got me staked out.”
“I don’t,” she protested, but her cheeks were flaming.
“Liar.”
He hadn’t hurt her and something told her he wasn’t going to. She began to calm down. Now the major emotion she was feeling was embarrassment. She should have handled this in a more professional manner. Here she was, lying on the beach with the subject of her investigation. Not cool. She hoped Jim and the others at the office never found out about it.
“You see, Kelly,” she could almost hear Jim saying, “I told you to leave these things to people who know what they’re doing.“
Of course, she always made the obvious argument. “How am I ever going to learn how to do this right if you never let me try?” But no one took her seriously.
So here she was, trying, and learning—and messing up a little bit. But she would get better. She gritted her teeth and promised herself that was what was happening here. She was getting better at this.
But she had to admit it wasn’t easy to keep her mind on business with this man’s incredible body pressed against hers, sending her pulse on a race. He was hard and smooth and golden—all things the perfect prince should be. Good thing she was covered from head to foot in sweatshirt material and denim, because he wasn’t covered with much at all.
“Come on,” he was saying now. “I want to know who put you up to this.” He sounded cold and angry and forceful enough to wipe out any thoughts of sensuality she might be dreaming up. “Who are you working for?”
“N-nobody.”
Which was technically true. Her office hadn’t authorized this investigation. She was strictly on her own.
“Liar,” he said again.
Reaching out, he pulled the hood all the way off her head, exposing her matted blonde curls. She turned her pretty face and large dark eyes his way and he frowned.
“What the hell?”
This young woman was hardly the battle-hardened little tough he’d expected. She was a greenhorn, no doubt about it. No one in his right mind would have sent her up against him.
A little alarm bell went off in the back of Joe’s mind, reminding him about lowering guards and being lulled into complacency. But even that seemed ridiculous in this case. She was too soft, too cute, too…amateur. His quick survey of her nicely
rounded body as he’d brought her down had told him she wasn’t carrying a weapon, though she did have a couple of small, light objects in the front pockets of her sweatshirt.
He’d had plenty of experience in fighting off threats. He’d fought off hired guns, martial arts experts, Mata Hari types with vials of poison hidden in their bras. This little cutie didn’t fit into any of those categories. He would have staked his life on her being from outside that world of intrigue he’d swum in for years. So what the hell was she doing here?
“I’m not ‘tailing’ you and I don’t have you ‘staked out,’” she insisted breathlessly.
He raised one sleek eyebrow, looking her over.
“Then it must be love,” he said sarcastically. “Why else would you be mooning around after me for days at a time?”
Shocked at the very suggestion, even though she knew he was just making fun of her, she opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a strangled sound.
“Never mind,” he said in a kindly manner, though he was obviously still mocking her, and his mockery stung. “We’ll just stay here this way until you remember what the answer is.”
“To what?” she managed to choke out.
She tried to wriggle out from under him, but soon realized it was probably a mistake. She could see him better, but that only sent her nerves skittering like jumping beans on a hot plate.
He had hold of her sweatshirt and one strong leg was still thrown over hers. It was pretty clear he didn’t like being followed. He was angry and he wanted the truth. Nothing amorous about it.
Still, he was just a little too gorgeous for comfort. She wasn’t usually one to be tongue-tied, but being this close to him sent every sensible thought flying right out of her head. His huge blue eyes were gazing at her as though her skin were transparent and he could see everything—every thought, every feeling. She stared at him, spellbound, unable to move.