On the Edge

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Jed, for heaven’s sake.” Amy said admonishingly.

  Jed just looked at her. Then he glanced across the room and noticed Renner was sitting alone at the table he had been sharing with Guthrie. Guthrie had moved to the bar. “All right, Rosie, tell us who Renner reminds you of.”

  “Something about him,” Rosie said slowly, “makes me think of Michael Wyman.”

  Amy nearly choked on her white wine. She coughed and sputtered until Jed reached around the table and slapped her casually between the shoulders. Her eyes grew very wide as she stared at Rosie. Amy wasn’t the only one staring at the plump woman. Hank was also looking at his wife as if she’d just put a live hand grenade in the center of the table. But it was Jed who demanded clarification first.

  “Michael Wyman? Slater’s old partner?”

  Rosie chuckled, pleased with the small sensation she had caused. “That’s it. Wyman had that same shade of hair, as I recall, and there’s something about his looks that’s vaguely familiar. Those eyes…’Course, it’s been nearly thirty years. But it’s more than that. Wyman was charming the way Renner is. Know what I mean? There was a kind of mischief in Wyman. A dangerous mischief,” Rosie added with a sidelong glance at Amy. “Like he’d cause trouble if he could, just for the hell of it, then stand back and watch everyone fly into a tizzy.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jed saw Renner ask the tall, cool blonde to dance. He watched the pair move out onto the floor and then realized Guthrie had not returned to his seat. Nor was the other man dancing. He was walking away from the bar, heading toward the doors that opened onto the deck.

  Eight years of learning to trust instincts and gut reactions made Jed watch Guthrie carefully. The sexual tightness that had come to life on the dance floor began transforming into another, familiar kind of physical alertness.

  “Jed?” Amy’s attention had swung from Rosie’s announcement to Jed. “What’s the matter?”

  He turned back to her, aware that he looked and sounded considerably different than he had a moment before. He could see the concern in her eyes change to wariness. He got to his feet with a decisive movement. “I think I can handle this slower stuff. Let’s try another dance, honey.”

  He saw the confusion in her face, but she didn’t argue with him. Without a word she followed him back out onto the dance floor. Jed took her into his arms, his eyes on Guthrie as the man wove through the crowd.

  “I want you to stay here with Hank and Rosie, understand? And I don’t want you dancing with Renner while I’m gone.”

  “Gone where?” she demanded.

  “I’m going to follow Guthrie.”

  “But why?”

  “I’m not sure. Curiosity, I guess.”

  “Curiosity? What kind of an answer is that, for heaven’s sake?”

  “The only one I’ve got at the moment. Follow my lead when I take you back to the table.”

  “But Jed—” Amy’s protest was short-lived. He was already leading her back to their table.

  “Amy just remembered she needs something she left in the Jeep. I’m going to run down to the dock and get it for her. Be back in a few minutes. Keep an eye on her for me, will you?” He nodded at Hank.

  “Heck, we’ll watch her. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve baby-sat Amy.” Hank returned the nod in a relaxed fashion.

  “I’ll be right back. Amy, remember what I said about not dancing with Renner.”

  “Ah, you never let me have any fun.”

  Beneath the sassy words, Jed heard her underlying worry. She was sitting tensely, her fingers wrapped too tightly around the stem of her wineglass. He couldn’t do anything about either the tension or the worry, not at the moment. He lightly touched the bare curve of her shoulder and then left.

  The lounge was dark and full of people who were determined to enjoy themselves. Weaving a path between the crowded tables, Jed managed to make his way to the door just as the band went into a classic rock tune. The glittering vocalist struck a pose reminiscent of the early Elvis Presley and began belting out a familiar song. Amy would undoubtedly recognize it, Jed decided as he stepped out on deck.

  There was no sign of Guthrie at first. Jed stood quietly in the shadows, letting his eyes adjust to the change in light. There was a pool at the far end of the deck and beyond that a quiet indoor seating area. As Jed watched he saw a person who could have been Guthrie open the door to the other public room and disappear inside.

  There was a second set of elevators at that end of the ship, Jed remembered. It would be easy for Guthrie to make his way down through the decks until he reached the one which had access to the dock. From there he could leave the ship. If he was planning to leave the ship.

  Jed moved swiftly to follow. Guthrie sure as hell wasn’t heading for the rest rooms. Jed thought of Renner dancing back in the lounge with the blonde Amy hadn’t liked. Rosie’s words kept flickering on and off in his mind like a faulty neon light. Renner reminded her of Michael Wyman.

  There were two facts that had to be put into the equation. The first was that Wyman was dead. The second was that even if he were alive, he would be considerably older than Dan Renner. But the implications were fascinating.

  Deciding to concentrate on the task at hand and worry about sorting through implications later, Jed stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the exit deck. Guthrie had used the other elevator. Jed figured he shouldn’t be more than a few seconds behind him.

  He was right. He stepped out of the elevator in time to see Guthrie saunter through the open hatch and take the gangway down to the dock. A group of tourists returning from the island got between Jed and Guthrie for a moment. When the crowd had cleared, Guthrie was almost to the end of the dock. From there he could walk the few blocks to his room at Hank and Rosie’s. Jed found the shadows he needed and fell into step behind his quarry. Guthrie never once looked back.

  Then again, why should he? Jed wondered as he remained a discreet distance behind the other man. Maybe Guthrie simply didn’t like dancing. Maybe he was bored with Renner’s company. Maybe he’d developed a headache. There were a lot of innocent explanations for Guthrie’s decision to leave the ship.

  There were also a few not-so-innocent reasons why Guthrie might want to leave. Jed speculated on where Guthrie had been that afternoon while he and Amy had been diving the bomber wreck. Perhaps Guthrie had spent the time letting himself into the Slater home without an invitation.

  Guthrie took an unexpected turn to the right, one that led up the short hill from the waterfront toward a jumble of weathered buildings and narrow, tangled alleys. Jed had seen this section of the small town earlier in the day and knew it wasn’t Orleana’s residential section. Some of the tin-roofed structures had obviously been around since the military had run its refueling depot there. A few were still used as storage sheds, but many were vacant. The narrow streets had once been paved but no one had bothered to keep up the tradition. There were more potholes than pavement, and nothing resembling a sidewalk.

  There was also nothing resembling a street light. Orleana wasn’t big on such amenities.

  Curiouser and curiouser. Figuring out what sort of business Guthrie might have in this part of town made for an interesting puzzle. This certainly wasn’t the direct route back to Hank and Rosie’s.

  Guthrie turned another corner, slipping down a narrow path between two metal sheds. The faint moonlight spotlighted him for an instant and then he was lost in the darkness. Jed listened intently, hearing the small, distant crunch of gravel. Guthrie wasn’t making any effort to conceal his movements.

  Jed, on the other hand, was doing his best to conceal his own presence, but the effort it took was virtually second nature. He was aware of his own caution but he didn’t have to work at it very hard; it came naturally. His soft-soled shoes made no noise on the uneven path. He paused before crossing in front of a screen door that was swinging wide on rusty hinges. Deep gloom hovered behind the old door. The distant sound of
laughter from the waterfront floated up the hill on the soft, balmy air.

  Jed felt the silent chill that stirred every hair on the back of his neck a split second before he felt the faint change in the air behind him. He swung around instantly, prepared to let the movement carry him all the way to the ground if necessary.

  The man came out of the narrow alley between two buildings, the knife held low and ready for a gut-opening thrust.

  Jed barely had time to realize his attacker was not Guthrie before he let the momentum of his own turn carry him down and to the right.

  The knife ripped at him as he fell, slashing his left arm. Jed knew he’d been cut, but the rush of adrenaline blotted out the pain before it even got started. The luxury of pain would come later, when there was time to concentrate on it. Jed grabbed for the man’s leg as he lunged to the side.

  The knife came around in an arc that was designed to end in Jed’s neck. The assailant swore as he felt himself being tumbled off balance. Jed hit the ground and rolled, carrying the man with him.

  There was a soft, muffled cry of rage from the assailant and then Jed was on top of him, driving a hand full of stiffened fingers into the vulnerable places of his neck and upper lip. The man shrieked with agony and then there was silence.

  Jed sat up slowly, trying to see his victim’s face m the shadows. Then he felt the wetness of his arm and clamped a hand over the wound in his shoulder. Blood welled between his fingers. Jed glanced down at the wound and sighed.

  Amy would undoubtedly fuss.

  Chapter 13

  Amy did more than fuss. She lost her temper. The moment the waiter approached the table to announce politely that she was being paged by someone ashore, Amy knew there was trouble. When she discovered the message was from Dr. Stearn she rounded on Hank and Rosie.

  “I knew I should never have let him go off by himself like that!”

  “Who? Dr. Stearn?” Rosie watched as Amy frantically searched her purse to find money for the last round of drinks. Amy had insisted it was her turn to buy.

  “Not Dr. Stearn.” Amy dropped the bills on the table. “Jed.” Hank was helping Rosie to her feet, preparing to follow Amy. “But the message was from Stearn.”

  “Which,” Amy pointed out with grim logic, “can only mean he’s got Jed in his office, and since the message wasn’t from Jed, I have to assume Jed’s gone and done something stupid again.”

  “Again?” Rosie’s confusion was laced with genuine concern as she followed Amy. Hank had already stepped into the lead, using his considerable bulk to open a path through the crowd.

  “Never mind, it’s a long story. Oh, Rosie, if he’s badly hurt I’ll strangle him. I swear it.”

  Hank spoke gruffly as he ushered both women into the elevator. “Wouldn’t that be redundant if he really is hurt? Calm down, Amy. No need to go off like a cannon over this. We don’t know that this message of Stearn’s has anything to do with Jed.” Hank had clearly voted himself the voice of reason, what with Rosie and Amy choosing to anticipate the worst.

  “Something’s wrong, Hank. I know it. It’s got to be Jed.” Amy was in no mood to be soothed. Her intuition had combined with her imagination and she had no doubt at all but that Jed was in serious trouble.

  Ten minutes later Hank pulled the Slaters’ Jeep into a space in front of Dr. Stearn’s clinic. Lights were blazing inside. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who got an invitation.” Hank nodded toward a second vehicle parked nearby. It was an old battered Ford.

  “Kelso,” Rosie said, recognizing the car. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”

  “This is getting worse by the minute.” Amy bounded out of the Jeep, holding the hem of her yellow dress above her knees. Ernie Kelso had been the closest thing to an official representative of the law Orleana had had since the Navy had shipped out. He had been duly elected to his post largely because no one else on the island wanted to be bothered locking up drunks and settling minor arguments between fishermen. Kelso didn’t mind doing either as long as he was sober and as long as he got his monthly check. No one was sure just where Kelso had come from, but after ten years on the island he was finally beginning to be accepted as a local.

  Amy raced toward the screen door of the clinic. She grabbed the rusted metal handle, yanked open the door and rushed into the waiting room like a small whirlwind. Hank and Rosie followed at a more sedate pace.

  The door to the examination room was open. Three men were inside. One was Dr. Stearn, the other was Kelso and the third was Jed. He was sitting casually on the end of the examining table, bare to the waist. There was a short, neat row of stitches on his left arm. Blood still oozed gently from the wound. Stearn was in the process of unwrapping a gauze bandage when his clinic door was thrown open. All three men turned to look at Amy.

  She had eyes only for Jed.

  “I knew I should never have let you leave the ship alone. What on earth happened to you? You had to go and get into trouble, didn’t you? You can’t be trusted on your own, you know that? You’re a menace to yourself and others. Of all the stupid, idiotic, crazy things to do. You just take off and leave me sitting there without a word of explanation and the next thing I know I’m being called to the doctor’s office. If you think you’re going to get away with this sort of behavior indefinitely, Jedidiah Glaze, you can damn well think again. I will not tolerate it, do you hear me?”

  Jed listened to the tirade with absorbed interest. “I knew you’d fuss,” he said affectionately when she stopped for breath.

  “Fuss? You call this fussing? I am infuriated, Jed.” She tried to approach the examination table, but Dr. Stearn was in the way. She peered over his shoulder as he applied the bandage. “What happened here, anyway? And don’t give me some song and dance about a car accident.”

  Kelso cleared his throat. “Actually, it was more like a knife accident,” he said.

  Jed raised his eyes heavenward in silent dismay as Amy turned on the paunchy, balding, older man. “A knife accident?” she asked, her voice dangerously soft.

  “Yeah,” Kelso nodded enthusiastically, grateful for her quick understanding. “Seems like your, uh, friend Glaze met with a slight accident up in the old warehouse area. You know that group of sheds and buildings on the hill where the Navy used to store stuff ?”

  “Of course I know it.” Amy glared at Jed. “What were you doing there, Jed? There’s nothing up there but a bunch of deserted old sheds.”

  Jed sighed, watching Stearn secure the bandage. “That’s where Guthrie went when he left the ship.”

  Hank frowned and asked quietly, “Guthrie pulled a knife on you?”

  “Jesus,” Rosie breathed.

  “Guthrie attacked you?” Amy yelped.

  “No.”

  That stopped the three new arrivals as they tried to sort out what had happened. They backed off and Amy tried again.

  “Then how did you get that slice on your arm?” she demanded.

  Dr. Stearn finished his bandaging and stepped back to admire his handiwork. “It was a knife, all right.”

  “I knew it!” Amy turned on Jed again. He smiled winningly, but she ignored his placating expression. “Stop dragging this out, Jed. I want to know what happened and I want to know right now.”

  Kelso stepped in to rescue Jed. “According to the ID in the guy’s wallet, his name is Vaden.”

  Rosie glanced at Kelso. “He’s staying at our place. Hit the island last week.”

  “How did you get his wallet?” Amy zeroed in on Jed again. “Was there a struggle? Did his wallet fall out or something?”

  “I removed his wallet when I took Vaden into custody,” Kelso explained in a formal voice.

  “Took him into custody?” Amy gave Kelso a perplexed frown. “How did you find him so fast? How did you even know it was Vaden you were looking for in the first place? Jed doesn’t know him. Neither do I. Who identified him for you?”

  Kelso glanced at Jed, who was paying no attention. “Vaden di
dn’t, uh, leave the scene of the crime.”

  Amy’s beleaguered brain finally got the message. She swung her widening eyes back to Jed who tried another placating smile. “Oh, my goodness,” she said weakly.

  Hank asked calmly, “Vaden still alive?”

  Amy shivered, never taking her eyes off Jed’s face.

  “He’s alive,” Jed stated briskly. “Didn’t you hear Kelso say he took him into custody?” He nodded at Stearn. “Thanks. What do I owe you?”

  Stearn held up one finger after another as he ticked off the expenses. “Office visit, anesthetic, stitches. Make it sixty bucks.”

  Jed nodded agreeably and reached for his wallet.

  “Anesthetic?” Amy repeated wryly. “For this tough, macho guy who follows strangers into dark alleys and gets into knife fights for fun? You had to give him anesthetic?”

  “Just a little topical stuff,” Stearn assured her, accepting the cash from Jed.

  “I have this thing about pain,” Jed explained as he got off the table.

  “Then maybe you’re in the wrong business,” Amy muttered. She darted forward to take his good arm. The frightened anger went out of her as she realized he was probably all right. “Oh, lord, Jed, if you make a habit of terrorizing me like this, I’m going to...” She didn’t finish the threat. She couldn’t finish it because the only logical conclusion was to leave him if he continued to play with guns and knives. And how could she bring herself to kick him out of her life?

  “I would like to take this opportunity,” Jed announced grimly, “to point out that this was not my fault.”

  “Hah. You should never have followed Guthrie into that warehouse district.”

  Kelso ambled to the window and stared out into the darkness. “Why did you follow him, Glaze?”

  Amy froze as she realized where all these logical questions would lead. If Jed started explaining about Guthrie, how could he avoid explaining his suspicions? And if he got as far as his suspicions, he would have to explain the box in the caves. The secrets would be out.