On the Edge

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Sorry, Faxon. My mistake.”

  “That’s why you’re in fieldwork rather than internal operations, I suppose,” Faxon grumbled.

  “You’re probably right. Fill me in on the rest. I’m waiting with baited breath.” A small sound on the stairway made him turn around. Amy was walking down the steps, pulling her kimono sash tight as she did. She was listening intently. She looked so good in the morning, he thought.

  Faxon’s voice was a little thin over the line. “For starters he was, as you said, partners with Slater in a West Coast aerospace firm that had a lot of government contracts. Some of the work was classified as confidential and some was secret. Clearances were run on a lot of the staff, including Wyman and Slater. Do you know how tough it was to dig up those old clearance records, Glaze?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’d tell me if I gave you the opportunity. However, I’m not going to be that dumb. Just give me the results.”

  “That’s another problem with you field types. You’re only interested in the final data. You don’t give a damn about what it takes to retrieve it.”

  “Tell Cutter I said you should get a raise.”

  “I’ll do that. By the way, Cutter has a message for you. Remind me to give it to you before we hang up.”

  Jed was suddenly irritated. “This was supposed to be between you and me, Faxon. It’s private business. Did you tell Cutter what I was asking you to do?”

  “Nope. Just told him you’d called to check in and say you were healing. That’s it, I swear. Why? Is this stuff that sensitive?”

  “No, but it’s no longer government business and I’d just as soon keep the Feds out of it. Go on with the report.”

  “Well,” Faxon continued, his voice businesslike, “Slater passed his clearance with flying colors. Interesting military record, by the way. Seems he did some small jobs for Intelligence while he was stationed in the Pacific. Nothing major, but he had some training and he was reliable. Wyman, on the other hand, was a different story.”

  Jed cocked a brow at Amy as she came toward him. “I’m listening.”

  “The guy was brilliant. Probably a genius. He was also a sports freak. Sailing, scuba diving, skiing, flying, surfing, you name it. According to the clearance report, he was lucky in love, too. Never lacked lady friends. Had a problem with money, though.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “Chronic lack thereof. But then, who isn’t a little short?” Faxon asked generously. “In Wyman’s case it was cause for some minor questioning. The operative in charge of conducting the clearance raised the issue as a potential source of concern. Sailboats, private planes and ladies didn’t come cheap even then, I guess. The matter was discussed, but it was noted that there was no real problem at the time. If Wyman wanted to live at the end of his credit limit, that was his worry.”

  “All right, he got his clearance, so I assume there were no major questions raised about risky associations. No drinking problems? Drugs?”

  “Not from what I can tell. As you say, he got his clearance.”

  “Then give me what you’ve got on the private side,” Jed said. “What about women?”

  “I didn’t get any help from the clearance report,” Faxon said, “but I am not a man to give up easily. I knew you’d want service above and beyond the call of duty.”

  “Did I get it?”

  Faxon groaned. “Unfortunately, I owed you an especially big favor. Yeah, you got your service. Based on the old addresses and other data I got off the clearance form, I went looking for the usual things: birth certificates, marriage licenses, military service records.”

  “Any marriages?” Jed asked suddenly.

  “No, but there was a rather long-term association with a woman named Vivien Anne Renner. She died a little over a year ago.”

  “Children?”

  “She had a son.”

  Jed closed his eyes, thinking carefully. “Name?”

  “First name is Daniel. He’d be, let’s see…” Faxon hummed to himself as he worked on his computer. “Twenty-six now. By the way, Wyman is listed as the father on the birth certificate, but Daniel apparently uses his mother’s last name. As I mentioned earlier, his parents were never married. Judging from the date of Wyman’s death, it looks like the boy probably never knew his dad.”

  “What happened to Vivien Renner?”

  “Booze and pills.”

  “And her son?”

  “He works in a stock brokerage firm in L.A. That’s about all I’ve got on him. I wasn’t sure how far you wanted me to go in that direction.”

  “Anything else on Wyman?” Jed braced himself with one palm against the windowsill. Amy was standing beside him, studying his expression. He could feel her frustration at hearing only one side of the conversation.

  “I’m not sure,” Faxon said slowly.

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’m not sure. I told you he got his clearance without any real problem, but the cross-referencing program turned up a mention of something called the Orleana Project. That clicked because that’s the name of the island where you’re staying. I tried running a query on the project, but so far I haven’t gotten any answers. It looks like it’s non-computer accessible archive material.”

  “What’s that mean?” Jed asked impatiently.

  “It means that no one’s ever entered the material into the computer data bases I’m searching.” Faxon was obviously disgusted at the very notion of anything remaining in hard-copy. In his dream world, all data—however obscure—was in a computer data base somewhere and could, therefore, be accessed by anyone blessed with his superior capabilities. “It means that the stuff’s still in hardcopy somewhere in somebody’s central files.”

  “Whose central files?”

  “Ah, the sixty-four dollar question. It’s going to take some digging. The computer is a nice, neat, silent way to ask questions, but once I have to start going through real people I won’t be able to guarantee privacy. I thought I’d better let you make the decision. You want me to make some inquiries?”

  Jed hesitated. “Not yet. I will if I have to, but I’d rather avoid it if I can. Go ahead and give me Cutter’s message.”

  “Our esteemed high honcho boss wants me to inform you that he’s found out what went wrong on your last assignment.”

  Jed grunted. “Better late than never.”

  “I understand things were a wee bit close for you last time out.” Faxon cleared his throat. “I assume everything vital is still functioning?’

  Jed glanced at Amy. “I get by. Give me the rest of the message, Faxon.”

  “Sure. In a nutshell, Cutter has a lead on the guy who sold you out to those two jokers who got you in that alley. He says he wants you to go in and make sure we’ve tagged the right guy. Once you’ve made sure, he wants the situation cleaned up. He wants all this done ASAP, naturally. The man’s a menace. Cutter wants to know when you’re going to be ready to finish the job you started.”

  A curious tension unfurled in Jed. Suddenly he couldn’t take his eyes off Amy’s questioning gaze. She couldn’t possibly have overheard what Faxon had said, but he knew she sensed the change in the conversation. She knew that what Jed was talking about now concerned his job.

  “Tell Cutter—” Jed began, but Faxon interrupted to finish his message.

  “Cutter also said to tell you that this doesn’t just involve you. The guy who sold you also made another sale last week.”

  “Who?”

  “Ramsey and Dickens.”

  “Shit.” Jed gripped the phone more tightly. “Either of them make it out?”

  “No. They’re both dead. Cutter thought you’d be interested.”

  “Cutter’s right.” Jed’s eyes were still on Amy. And he was trapped.

  Amy, what am I going to do? What have you done to me?

  “So, do I tell the old man you’ll be back at work a little sooner than planned?”

 
; “Tell Cutter I’ll sell the salesman for him, but I need a few more days in paradise.”

  “Cutter will be thrilled,” Faxon assured him dryly. “In the meantime, do you want anything more from me?”

  “No thanks, Faxon. Go play with your computer.” Jed quietly hung up the phone.

  Amy was on him before the receiver clicked in the cradle. “That was your friend? The one who was going to check on Wyman for us?”

  Jed nodded. “That was him.”

  “What about that comment about Cutter? And what’s a salesman?”

  “Never mind that. The important thing is that Wyman had a son.”

  That distracted her. “A son?” Her mouth opened in amazement.

  “Right. Wyman was apparently sleeping with a woman named Vivien Renner. Shortly before his death, she gave birth to Daniel. Michael Wyman is listed as the father on Renner’s birth certificate, although Vivien gave the boy her own last name.”

  “The blond floozy!”

  “What?”

  “Rosie mentioned a blond woman who tried to seduce my father. I’ll bet it was this Vivien Renner,” Amy said. “I’ll bet Wyman put her up to it for some reason. Probably just to cause trouble. Rosie said Wyman was jealous of my father. Rosie also said Wyman was the kind who liked to cause mischief.” She turned around and began to pace the length of the living room. “So Renner is Wyman’s son. And after all these years he shows up on Orleana. Something of a coincidence, I’d say.”

  “Uh, yes, it struck me the same way,” Jed said wryly.

  “What do we do now?”

  “We get that damn box out of the cave,” Jed said.

  “But what about the silt that’s clouding the water?”

  “We’ll monitor it. As soon as it’s reasonably clear, we’re going in. In the meantime we’re going to buy ourselves a little protection.” He reached for the phone.

  “What kind of protection?”

  “What’s the number of Hank and Rosie’s tavern?”

  She gave it to him and then demanded, “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to ask Hank to do me a favor.” Jed was already dialing. The phone was answered on the other end before Amy could ask any more questions. “Hank? It’s Jed Glaze. I need a favor.”

  “Sure,” Hank promised easily. “Like I told you once, any friend of the Slaters is a friend of mine.”

  “All I’m asking is that you keep an eye on Dan Renner and his friend Guthrie. Give me a call if they leave town, will you?”

  “That should be easy enough. What’s up?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m still not convinced that Kelso was right in thinking Vaden was working alone the other night. I just thought it would be wise to keep tabs on Renner and Guthrie.”

  “You got it. I’ll give you a holler if they leave town.”

  “Thanks, Hank, I appreciate it. Does Kelso still have Vaden under wraps?”

  “Far as I know. He said he could keep him locked up for a few days on drunk and disorderly charges.”

  “Good. I’ll talk to you later, Hank.” Jed replaced the receiver again and looked at Amy. “Let’s go check the water in the caves.”

  “Before breakfast?”

  “I’m in a hurry,” he told her.

  “I noticed,” she grumbled. But she turned toward the stairs to go get dressed. On the first step she paused and turned once more to ask, “But what about Cutter and that business of selling a salesman?”

  “It’s nothing. I’ll explain it all later. Move, Amy.”

  She moved, but it didn’t do much good. The water in the caves didn’t clear until late that evening.

  Chapter 17

  You don’t think this could wait until morning?” Amy asked as she buckled her weight belt. She wasn’t expecting Jed to agree to a delay, and she wasn’t disappointed.

  Jed pulled on his diving gloves. “No. Things are coming together too fast. I don’t like it. I just wish to hell we’d been able to get that box out yesterday. Having Michael Wyman’s son on the island is not conducive to my peace of mind.”

  “Do you think Guthrie’s working with him? Vaden, too?” Amy was only partially aware of his answers. She stood looking at the night shrouded entrance pool, thinking it looked very much the way it had that night in October. The moonlight was fretful and scattered, just as it had been eight months before. A storm was gathering out at sea.

  “Being an engineer, I’m inclined to assume and design for the worst possible case. Whatever can go wrong will go wrong. Yeah, I think Vaden, Guthrie and Renner are all connected. Vaden, at least, is tucked away in jail. And Hank’s keeping an eye on Guthrie and Renner. With any luck they won’t move on us until we try to leave the island. Why should they do the hard work if we’re willing to do it for them?”

  If you’re right, how are we going to get off the island?”

  “Very carefully.” He picked up his fins. “Are you ready?” Automatically he checked her equipment one last time.

  “I’m ready.” She wouldn’t think about how much this night dive reminded her of the experience last October. After all, Amy thought as she clambered down over the rocks and into the pool, once inside the caves it was night twenty-four hours a day. She could always tell herself the sun was shining brightly just outside the entrance.

  Beside her in the water Jed put on his fins and adjusted his mask. “Let’s go.”

  He was all business, Amy realized as she turned on her light and dived under the pool surface. He had been all business all day, in fact. There had been no light moments, no teasing, no time set aside for sketching bird cages. Jed had walked down to the pool to check the clearing water every hour. In between checks he had been nearly silent. Amy had sensed his controlled impatience, his icy tension that seemed to sizzle just under the surface. He reminded her of a large hunting cat pacing its den, waiting to go out on a kill. She wondered if this was the way Jed behaved when he was on one of his terrible assignments.

  They passed through the gaping cavern entrance and angled down to follow the passageway. The beam of her dive light revealed water that had cleared almost completely. Amy kept one hand in contact with the nylon line that was spinning out behind Jed and wondered again about the conversation she had overheard that morning.

  Faxon, she knew, was the computer whiz, the one who had pulled up the information on Wyman and Renner from the data bank. She seemed to recall Cutter’s name from the first telephone conversation. Jed had told Faxon to give Cutter the message that he was almost ready to go back to work. Cutter must be Jed’s boss.

  Jed had promised to “sell the salesman” for Cutter. Amy had seen the chilled, remote look on his face when he had made the promise. She didn’t want to think about what the words might mean.

  Jed was right: Things were closing in. One of those things was his job. When this was all over, Amy thought, she would be forced to watch him return to the pattern of frequent absences, phone calls from the airport asking her to pick him up because he was too injured to drive, a future that he never discussed and for which he never made plans.

  It was ironic, Amy thought, that Jed was rapidly taking steps to restore her own future to her. He had broken the time loop with the past in which she had been caught. But nothing had changed for him. Amy knew she would give everything she possessed to free him as he had freed her.

  Maybe he didn’t want to be free. Jed was well adapted to the way he lived. The potential for violence didn’t seem to bother him. He didn’t question his own lack of interest in the future. As far as she could tell he tuned out everything but the present. He seemed content to keep their affair relegated to a separate portion of his life.

  Who was she to try to change his world?

  Amy swam cautiously around a collection of delicate stalactites hanging from the ceiling, following the white nylon line. At least thinking about Jed kept her from dwelling on what had happened before in the cave.

  Jed paused briefly when they reached the f
all of gravel that had trapped him the previous day. He played the light over the debris and Amy saw that there was still room to squeeze through the narrow entrance into the corridor that led to the skeleton’s cave. She shuddered at the memory of hollow eyes and teeth that had been grinning for twenty-five years. Amy was relieved when Jed turned to swim further along the main corridor.

  The passageway twisted to the right a few feet beyond the gravel fall. The curve in the corridor struck a familiar chord in Amy’s brain. Jed stopped to tie off the line. He looked at Amy, silently asking if the scene appeared familiar. She shone the light on the walls of the cavern and nodded uncertainly. This had to be the right direction, but her memories of the cave’s layout were vague.

  But as soon as she followed Jed around the curve in the corridor, a few more stray recollections clicked into place. She kicked forward a little harder and touched Jed’s leg. He glanced back inquiringly and she signaled vigorously that this section was familiar.

  When they aimed the dive lights on the side wall of the cavern they saw the opening that led into another branch tunnel. Amy’s breath sounded momentarily harsher in her regulator as she realized it was the corridor where she had left the box. She pointed to it and Jed obediently swam forward.

  The metal box was sitting right where she had left it eight months before. It was nestled into a small gouge in the cave wall, sharing the space with a cluster of tiny blind fish. The pale creatures scattered as Jed put his gloved hand into the opening and pulled out the box.

  Amy stared at it, all the terrifying images she associated with these caves crowding back into her mind. Two men, Wyman and LePage, had died because of this box. In that moment it was easy to believe that one of them, Wyman, still haunted the caves, protecting his treasure.

  Because of this box she had almost been killed. Because of this box she had looked into the staring eyes of a dead man. Because of this box the past had intruded on the serenity of Orleana Island.

  It took all of Amy’s willpower to respond to Jed’s rough demand for attention. When she met his eyes through the mask she understood he was ordering her to carry the box out of the caves.