Jed nodded, swinging suitcases into the back of the Jeep. “All right, sounds like a reasonable plan.”
Slater glanced toward the house where both Amy and her mother were taking care of last minute details. “I’m glad Amy decided to stay a while longer. She needs the vacation.”
Jed hoisted another suitcase and asked bluntly, “You don’t mind the fact that I’m staying with her?”
Slater regarded him assessingly. “No,” he said quietly, “I don’t mind. I have a feeling you’ll take care of my daughter.”
Jed stowed the last suitcase and turned to face Slater. “You’re right. I’ll take care of her.”
Slater nodded.
The small island hopper plane left for Honolulu around four o’clock. Amy perched on the fender of the Jeep with Jed standing beside her and waved as the plane lifted off the runway. It took a wide, sweeping turn out over the sea and headed for the horizon. When it was almost out of sight, Amy jumped down from the fender and slid into the passenger seat.
“All right,” she announced brightly, “let’s make a quick stop at the clinic. It’s not very far from here.” She saw the stubborn look in Jed’s eyes, but she refused to be deflected from her goal. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Jed. Your arm should be looked at.”
He got in beside her. “My arm is okay.”
“Your arm is not okay. The scar is still red and I think it should be seen by someone who knows what he’s doing. Dr. Stearn is a competent man. He’s been running the island clinic for fifteen years.”
“I don’t doubt his competency. What I doubt is the need to have him look at my arm.” Jed let out the clutch with a swift, impatient movement. The Jeep leaped forward.
“Jed, you shouldn’t take chances. This is a tropical island. There are a lot of weird organisms floating around in the water.”
“You know, a month ago—or even last week—you wouldn’t have nagged me like this.” But there was a wryly amused twist to his mouth.
“A month ago I was just your friend,” she said sweetly. “Friends aren’t supposed to nag.”
“But lovers are allowed the privilege?”
“Of course. Lovers also have the right to lose their tempers the way you did yesterday after the dive,” she added magnanimously. “The way I see it, you brought this all on yourself. If you don’t like being nagged, you should never have made love to me in the first place.”
“The logic of this is defeating me.”
“Just drive. And don’t forget to have Stearn take a look at your leg, too.”
Forty minutes later Amy flipped through the last of the ancient magazines in the clinic waiting room and got to her feet to pace toward the screened window. What was taking Dr. Stearn so long? Perhaps the injury on Jed’s arm was more infected than Amy had thought. Lain, the nurse, had gone home twenty minutes before. Through the door of the tiny examination room Amy could hear the low murmur of male voices, but they hadn’t bothered to inform her what was going on.
She was about to go across the street to get some things for dinner at the small grocery store when the examination room door opened. Dr. Stearn, a man in his mid-sixties with a comfortable paunch, a wide bald spot and a bad cigarette habit came through first. He beamed at Amy. Over his shoulder she could see Jed buttoning his shirt.
“Amy, my girl, good to see you again. It’s been a while. I hear your folks just left the island?”
She nodded, smiling. “They’re on their way to see my sister and then they’re headed for Europe. How have you been, Dr. Stearn?”
He chuckled. “Same as always. Nothing changes here on Orleana, you know that. It’s one of the reasons I came to stay fifteen years ago. The rest of the world is changing too fast these days. There aren’t many places like Orleana where a man can escape. People like me need islands. Thanks for bringing me some business.”
Amy laughed. “You’re welcome. How is Jed’s arm?”
“Oh, nothing too serious. One of the stitches wasn’t removed and was festering under the skin. It probably would have emerged on its own in a couple of days. Stitches are the least of your man’s problems. If you want to keep him in one piece you’d better learn to discourage him from playing around with sharp knives and loaded guns. That bullet in the thigh was a close call. A little higher and he might have been singing soprano in a boys’ choir.”
Amy kept the smile frozen on her face as Jed came into the waiting room. She knew he’d heard the doctor’s words. He looked at her, his gaze revealing nothing. He silently and methodically finished rolling up the sleeves of his khaki shirt.
Dr. Stearn turned to slap his patient on the back, giving Jed a comradely, man-to-man look. “Just keep the wound clean for a couple of days. You won’t have any more trouble with it, I’m sure. I don’t see any problem with diving in a day or two.”
Jed nodded, his eyes still on Amy’s politely smiling face. “Thanks, Stearn. I’ll take care of it.”
“You do that.” The doctor turned to nod once more to Amy. “So long. Take care of yourself, Amy. I hear you’re a big-time writer now?”
“Not exactly big time. More like very small time.”
Stearn chuckled. “That’s not the way your father tells it. He’s very proud of you. After all those years of wondering whether you were ever going to find yourself, he’s quite relieved to see you settling down to a genuine career. Even if it is something flaky like writing science fiction.”
“Good-bye, Dr. Stearn,” Amy said politely.
“Take your man home and give him a drink. Nothing like a little alcohol to disinfect things, eh, Glaze?”
“Thanks for the advice.” Jed didn’t move, though. He was staring at Amy, waiting for her to take the lead.
Amy nodded once more to the doctor, then turned toward the screen door. “Come on, Jed, I think Dr. Stearn is right. Let’s go have a drink.”
He followed her slowly into the late afternoon sun. When he realized she wasn’t heading for the Jeep, he fell into step beside her.
“Where are you going?” His voice was tight and clipped.
“For that drink Dr. Stearn recommended. Don’t worry, Hank and Rosie don’t serve white wine.” She moved briskly along the sidewalk, past the small shops that were being closed up for the evening. Several people nodded to her in greeting.
Jed said nothing as Amy led the way down to the waterfront. She made for the familiar, ramshackle, open air bar that overlooked the quay. The comfortably worn interior was already filling up for the evening. Several of the locals waved at Amy as she headed toward a table near the railing.
Jed sat down slowly, still apparently riveted by her calm, remote expression. Tension crackled in the air. Silence stretched between them for a long moment and then he said quietly, “Stearn has a big mouth.”
Amy looked out over the fishing boats bobbing in the harbor. “Maybe I should have known all along that you weren’t really an engineer. You never talked about your work. I guess I just didn’t want to ask too many questions. I was afraid of the answers.”
“And now?”
“Now I feel rather like a wife whose husband comes home with a venereal disease. It’s impossible for her to pretend any longer that he’s not having an affair with another woman. The issue is out in the open. Who do you work for, Jed? The government? The Mafia? Or are you just a freelance mercenary?”
Chapter 8
I thought it would be better if you didn’t know what I did for a living.” Jed’s voice was low and remote. He followed Amy’s gaze toward the harbor.
“Better? Or was it just easier for you if I didn’t know?”
“You never asked any questions.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to know the answers.”
“Why open up the subject now?” Jed asked calmly.
“I told you. After what Dr. Stearn said, it would be a little difficult to ignore it. Good thing for you I didn’t visit Dr. Mullaney after you went to him to have him check your wounds, wasn�
�t it? It might have been Mullaney who gave me the advice about keeping you away from knives and guns.” Amy’s fingers clenched and unclenched nervously. Dear God, Jed might have been killed. She might never have known what happened to him.
“Mullaney bought my story about the car accident. He didn’t ask any questions. But Stearn apparently did a stint as a surgeon in Vietnam. He knew what he was looking at right away.”
“So here we are with the subject of your employment opened for discussion.”
“What if I choose to go on ignoring it?” He sounded only academically curious, as if he were testing alternatives.
Amy thought about it. “I suppose we could go on as we are.”
That seemed to startle him. “You think so?”
She said cautiously, earnestly, “It might work. It’s worked this far, hasn’t it?”
He smiled faintly. “You’re lying to yourself and you know it. You’d probably try to ignore your own questions, but I don’t think you could do it. Not now that we’re more than friends. And not now that the subject is out in the open. You’ll start pushing for answers sooner or later.”
“You think you know me very well, don’t you?”
“I’m learning.”
She nodded, accepting the fact that their relationship was changing almost daily and that he was a perceptive man. But before she could speak again she was interrupted by the approach of a huge bear of a man. He bore down on the table, a big grin slicing through his full beard. His beard had once been red but it was heavily streaked with gray these days. The man’s shrewd brown eyes were as vital as ever, though, and Amy found herself smiling in return in spite of the tension that had been gripping her.
“Amy, girl, where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you for ages. Your dad said you’d postponed your trip to the island for a couple of months.”
“I did.” Amy got to her feet and was promptly enveloped in a tight hug. “How are you doing, Hank?”
“Same as ever.” He chuckled, the sound a rich, deep rumble in his chest.
“And Rosie?”
“She’s around here somewhere. Probably in the kitchen. You two staying for dinner? She’d like that.” Without waiting for a response, Hank forcefully clapped Amy on the back. “Introduce me to your friend. Heard you had a visitor with you.”
“Jed, meet Hank Halliday. He and his wife, Rosie, own this place. They’ve been running it since before I was born. Hank, this is Jed Glaze. He’s…a friend.”
Hank stuck out a paw that was as big as Jed’s. “Glad to meet you, Glaze. Any friend of Amy’s and all that. How long you staying?”
“Amy and I are going to be here a few more days. We haven’t really made any decision about when to leave, have we, Amy?”
She caught the cool challenge in his voice. “No, we haven’t made any decision.”
“Careful. That’s what Rosie and I told ourselves thirty years ago. Kept putting off the decision to leave and look what happened. Let me get you two something to drink. I hope you’re not still drinking that water you call white wine, Amy, ‘cause I don’t have any on hand.”
“Actually, I was thinking of something a little stronger tonight,” Amy replied dryly.
“How about one of Rosie’s guava juice cocktails?”
She gave in to the inevitable. “All right, I’ll take a chance.”
Hank looked inquiringly at Jed.
“Scotch,” Jed said. “On the rocks.”
Hank nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. And I’m going to tell Rosie that you’re both staying for dinner, okay?”
Jed answered before Amy could. “Sounds good, Hank, thanks.” He waited while the older man headed back toward the bar on the other side of the room. When he was out of hearing, Jed said calmly, “Where were we?”
“I believe you were telling me you didn’t think I’d be able to keep my questions to myself.” Amy looked directly at him. “I think you’re right. Things have changed, just as you said.”
He nodded. “I knew it would come to this sooner or later. I guess I hoped it would be later.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, leaning back in the scarred rattan chair. “Because I’ve always assumed that when you found out the truth, you’d call a halt to our relationship. You’re not going to like what I do for a living, Amy.”
“I may not like it, but I don’t think I’ll end things between us because of it. Just tell me, Jed.”
He seemed to come to some inner decision. “All right. I work for the government on a kind of unofficial, free-lance basis. The job with the engineering consulting firm is a convenient cover because I used to be an engineer. Now I go places and do things that have very little to do with engineering.
“And you also build bird cages,” she said softly.
Jed paused. “And I also build bird cages,” he agreed.
An unofficial, free-lance government agent who built bird cages in his spare time. Amy let the information wash through her as Hank returned with the drinks. She listened to the casual flow of conversation between the two men, marveling at the easy way Jed shifted gears. Jed definitely had a talent for showing people the side of him they either wanted or expected to see. She was thinking about how smoothly he had handled her parent’s efforts to treat him as if he were a potential husband when Hank turned to her.
“Hey, Amy, girl, you going to take him out to dive that old B-25? Most folks get a kick out of that.” Hank grinned at Jed. “Orleana Island’s one big scenic attraction, I guess you’d say. A bomber went down during the war when the Marines took the island back from the Japanese. It’s not far off the north shore in fairly shallow water. The few tourists we get around here are usually into diving and they always want to see it.”
“I’ll have to get Amy to show it to me one of these days,” Jed replied, glancing at her.
Amy thought of the dark interior of the old, shattered fuselage. It would be a little like going into a cave. She shivered and said nothing.
“The waters off the north shore are usually a good place to find dinner,” Hank went on enthusiastically.
“I’m not much of a hunter,” Jed said.
Amy looked into his eyes and knew he was lying. He hunted, all right. But Jed’s game was human. She knew that in the depths of her soul. She had probably known it all along. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she’d allowed him to get so close to her. He was a man who knew how to keep shadows locked away behind iron bars and she needed to learn that skill.
“Rosie’ll be out in a minute,” Hank was saying. “Says she’s got a pot of her special fish chowder going on the burner. Her chowder’s just this side of heaven, ain’t it, Amy?”
“It’s terrific.” She started to search for a more casual, conversational response, but found she couldn’t find the words. How on earth did Jed do it so easily? she wondered. The answer was obvious. He’d had practice. He was accustomed to playing different roles. Amy was saved from the awkward situation by the arrival of Rosie Halliday.
“Amy, you little bit of a thing, you! How’re you doing?
Haven’t seen you in months. ‘Bout time you got back to the island. Understand you’ve brought along a man friend. Hope he’s a site more interesting than the last one. I didn’t take to that one. Let me see what you’ve got this time. Ah ha. He’s big, ain’t he? Not quite as big as my Hank, but he’ll do. Good, big hands. That’s a sure sign.”
“Of what?” Amy asked dryly as Rosie stopped beside her husband and stood, hands on her hips, studying Jed.
Rosie was not exactly small, herself. She was broad from top to bottom and her eyes were engaging blue lagoons set in a wide, laughing face. Her hair had gone almost as gray as Hank’s over the years, but she didn’t really change much. Rosie always had on a flowing white apron, a bright print dress and a flower in her hair. Tonight was no exception. She turned on Amy, appearing stunned by the question.
“Of what? A sign of what, girl? You don’t know what I’m talkin’
about? Big hands are a sign a man’s built to match elsewhere. What’s the matter with you? Don’t you folks on the mainland know about this kind of thing? I thought sex education was being taught in all the schools these days.”
Amy went pink. She knew she ought to be accustomed to Rosie’s sense of humor after all these years, but sometimes the woman still managed to take her by surprise. “I thought it was big feet that were supposed to be a sign of…you know,” Amy mumbled into her drink, not daring to look at Jed.
Rosie glanced pointedly down to where Jed’s large feet were stretched out under the table. “Well, I’d say he’s okay in the foot department, too.”
Amy nearly choked on her heavily laced guava juice. Hank intervened before she was called upon to reply to Rosie’s observation. “That’s enough, Rosie. You’re embarrassing the girl.”
“She’s a full grown woman now. Don’t need to shield her from the facts of life any longer, do we?” Rosie winked broadly at Jed, who was blandly watching the byplay.
“No,” Jed agreed. “I think she’s tough enough to handle the facts of life.”
Rosie laughed delightedly and scooped up Amy’s cocktail. “Come on back in the kitchen and keep me company, Amy girl. I got to fix dinner for some folks we’ve got staying here at the inn. Some of them are leaving tomorrow and I want to send ‘em off with fond memories. We’ll eat when they’ve finished. Hank, you can take care of Jed here, can’t you?”
“You bet.” Hank waved Jed toward a stool at the bar. “Come on up front and talk to me while I ply everyone here with liquor.” He started back toward the bar and Rosie moved off toward the kitchen.
Amy glanced helplessly at Jed. “I don’t think this is such a good idea,” she whispered.
“Why not? You and I were having a hard time carrying on a conversation by ourselves, as I recall. Limited subject matter. Go see if chatting with Rosie will relax you.”
“Dammit, Jed, I don’t need to be relaxed. Don’t you understand? Hank just wants to check you out the way my parents did.”
“Ah, another approval drill. But I’m good at getting through those, remember? Don’t worry about it, Amy. I’ll see you at dinner.” He got to his feet, picked up his Scotch and sauntered toward the bar.
On the Edge Page 14