“The captain, Earl Raven, was the only survivor. Thinking that his sins had finally caught up to him, he dedicated himself to good deeds, vowing to never again let another ship wreck on this shore. He built Beacon Manor and the lighthouse, and manned the light himself while Raven’s Cliff grew up around him. Eventually, he took on an apprentice, and when he died, left his entire estate to the apprentice with only one condition—the lighthouse was always to be lit on the anniversary of the death of his wife and children, and the light was to be shone on the rocks where they died.”
“Let me guess, the apprentice and generations after him swear they see the ghosts of Earl and his family on those rocks when they shine the light on the anniversary.” Luke waved a hand. “Sorry. Standard local myth, doesn’t explain any of what’s going on now.”
“I haven’t gotten to the Curse part,” she said. “Legend said that the town would prosper as long as the descendants of the apprentice—the Sterling family—fulfilled the captain’s one wish. And they always did—until five years ago when the heir, Nicholas Sterling the Third, forgot to shine the light on the rocks on the appointed day, and the lighthouse burned, killing his grandfather. That night, a category-five hurricane wiped out the town’s fishing fleet and a good chunk of the buildings, and the townspeople have been struggling to rebuild ever since.” She paused. “On the night of the hurricane, a woman disappeared and was presumed lost in the storm. Only recently, Captain Swanson learned that she was the Seaside Strangler’s first victim.”
“Which brings us more or less up to the present, but doesn’t give us much in the way of leads on our poisoner.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Rox frowned as things started turning over in her mind, loosened some by the story. “What if someone in town is using the Curse somehow, playing into it in an effort to cover up something bigger?”
“Like what?”
“It could be anything,” she said, warming to the idea, which seemed so much more scientific than “it’s just bad luck” or “Raven’s Cliff is cursed.” “What is it the cops say? Everything traces back to one of three things, money, power or revenge. So it could be political—maybe Mayor Wells is doing things to hurt the town so he can step in and save the day.”
Luke shook his head. “You just don’t like him. Granted, he’s too slick, but I don’t see it. I don’t think he’s got the guts to actually kill people. Besides, wouldn’t he have saved the day by now?”
“Maybe.” Rox frowned. “There are plenty of people who might want revenge, and more than enough bad blood to go around, given the troubles the town has been having. But they’re all pretty specific cases. I can’t see any of those people poisoning the entire town.”
“Which brings us back to money, which is a heck of a motive,” Luke mused. “But where’s the economic upside to what’s happening right now? Whatever got into those fish didn’t kill them, it made them grow two, three times their normal size. That’d suggest someone trying to engineer the fishing industry to improve the catch, maybe combat hunger, that sort of thing.”
“But the fish are inedible,” Rox countered. “And while the first wave of DLD might be attributed to our mystery scientist doing some unauthorized testing, how do you explain the other victims? Why is he going after us, and why poison the other townspeople?”
He shook his head, frustrated. “Okay, the theory breaks down there. But it’s something, anyway.”
“That’s true,” Rox said, starting to see an avenue they could explore. “What about pulling the FDA licenses issued to any local researchers, and checking with chemical suppliers for purchases shipped to this area?”
Luke got a glint in his eye. “Exactly what I was just starting to think.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s get on it.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She took his hand and let him pull her up, but when she moved to pass him and lead the way back to the SUV, he kept hold of her hand and tugged her back. She turned to face him. “What?”
He had a strange look on his face, far more open than she was used to, a little baffled, a little wistful. “This was good,” he said. “You and me, bouncing off each other. I’ve missed that.”
Telling herself to blame the film that crossed her vision on the incoming fog, she said, “That’s twice now you’ve said something about missing me. Let me remind you, you’re the one who left.”
She was trying to pick a fight, trying to get them back on familiar ground when her heart wanted to bump in her chest and tell her it didn’t matter what had happened in the past, what mattered was now, and how they went forward from here.
Only there was no now for them, she reminded herself. There was no forward.
Instead of taking up the argument, he said, “You were right, you know. I left because I couldn’t handle seeing you in that hospital bed and knowing I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch. I couldn’t fight the sickness for you, couldn’t will you to get better.”
Her throat tightened on the memory of waking up and finding him gone. “That would be the whole point of the ‘in sickness and in health’ clause. A relationship isn’t always going to be two people raring to go.”
“My father left when I was very little,” he said, which didn’t really address her point, but answered a whole lot of questions. “My mother raised me alone, and we did okay…until she got sick.”
Rox reminded herself that this wasn’t a surprise, that she’d suspected something of the sort. Still, her heart cracked a little and bled at the pain in his voice. “You watched her die.”
He nodded, still holding her hand, but staring out to sea, where waves crashed on jagged rocks. “Yeah. Ever since then I’ve wanted to keep other people from dying, but I haven’t been able to be around friends when they get sick because it reminds me of her. When you got sick…” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I was right back in that place, watching someone I loved die.”
“I didn’t die.”
“You almost did.”
She tightened her fingers on his, anger stirring. “So you figured you’d rather abandon me and break my heart than deal with the fact that you’d fallen for someone who was—hello—mortal? News flash. People die. It stinks and it isn’t always fair, but it’s a fact of life.”
“I know.” Now he turned back to her, his eyes gone a little cool. “And that’s not really what happened. It was more that seeing you sick and thinking that you might die made me think about losing you. When you started to get better and we knew you were going to live, I was happy, but I was sad at the same time, because I knew that I was going to lose you anyway. We’d been fighting so much…I knew you were going to leave and come back to the States for good.”
“So you left me before I could leave you,” she said flatly. “Rather than talking to me about it, or seeing if we could work out a compromise.”
“We’d been haranguing compromises for weeks, Roxie. They didn’t exist—I wanted fieldwork and you wanted a home. End of story.” He paused, and there was real regret in his voice when he said, “For what it’s worth now, I’m truly sorry about the way I left. It was a knee-jerk, too-easy response and you deserved better. What we had deserved better.”
“Yes, it did,” she agreed, but when she looked for the relief she might’ve expected at finally getting it all out in the open, she didn’t find it.
Rather, it seemed as though so many of the old resentments had already let go over the past few days as she’d worked beside Luke and rediscovered him, not as the ogre he’d become in her mind, but as the guy she’d fallen for, stubborn ego and all.
“Well,” she said after a too-long moment spent staring at each other, holding hands. “We should go.”
“Yeah. We should.” But instead of releasing her hands he pulled her in close and folded her in his arms, buried his face in her hair and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
The tears she’d been fighting for too long prickled at her eyelids. “Me, too.” Because no matter how grievous his crime of le
aving her in the hospital, he was right that their relationship had been on the skids long before then, and he hadn’t been alone in creating the problems between them.
They clung together for a moment while the restless waters of the Atlantic washed up on the shores beneath Beacon Lighthouse and the buoy bells clanged in the harbor. The moment they should’ve pulled apart came and went, and neither of them moved, save to lean closer and melt into each other.
Rox felt her bones go liquid, felt their bodies line up, synch up, and told herself this was a really bad idea. But knowing it and doing something about it were two different things, and instead of pulling away, she found herself shifting, curling her fingers into the front of his shirt as his hands drifted down to her hips and dug in.
Then she eased away and he leaned in, and a kiss flowed naturally from that, as though they’d both known that was where they were headed, where they belonged. It started soft, a brush of lips, a question that had no answer.
Then Rox parted her lips on a sigh as warmth flowed through her, as heat built within her, as everything inside her eased on a sense of coming home.
“Luke,” she said, just his name, and they parted by common accord, looking at each other, trying to figure out what came next.
“Back to the monastery?” he said, and he was asking about more than continuing the investigation.
“Back to the monastery,” she said, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to, but positive she was tired of being alone.
AS HE DROVE THEM back to the monastery, Luke kept hold of Rox’s hand and savored the unexpected lightness that had come with apologizing to her. He hadn’t realized how much their parting—and his behavior—had weighed on him until it was out there in the open, hadn’t realized how much he’d needed her forgiveness until he had it.
Granted, it came with a bit of sadness, too, as their conversation had only served to underscore that the differences that had divided them before—different goals, different speeds, different everything—divided them still. But at the same time, she seemed willing to act on the attraction if the time seemed right, willing to take the days they had left together, stealing precious hours together amidst the strain of work and medicine, as they had once done.
Ignoring the faint warning chime at the base of his brain that said he might not have been as clear as he could’ve been about that whole “using the time we have left” concept, he parked the SUV in front of the monastery.
“Let’s do this,” he said, and climbed out of the car. He was anxious to get going on their new theory of a rogue scientist at work, and equally anxious to finish for the day and get started on their other new theory: the two of them together, if only temporarily.
Seeming equally motivated, Rox joined him on the stairs headed up to the main entrance. They were halfway up when there was a motion from the shrubs to one side.
“Rox, get back!” Luke shouted, spinning to cover her as a man leaped onto the stairs, putting himself between them and the door.
His eyes glowed red.
Chapter Ten
Luke pulled the .22 he’d made a habit of carrying, and leveled it at the Violent. “Don’t be stupid. We can help you.”
But the man didn’t attack. He held up both hands, which trembled as though he was palsied. His voice was muffled and his mouth worked strangely when he said, “I won’t…hurt you. I’ve come to…help.” He reeled back and fell, sagging against the door, clearly weak from the disease, and loss of blood.
He was wearing a torn white rag it took Luke a moment to identify as a lab coat. When he made the connection, a burn of excitement took root in his gut.
“Luke,” Roxie said from behind him. “He could be the scientist we’re looking for.”
“I’m his lab assistant,” the man said, voice hitching on his shallow, panting breaths. “I’m sorry…. So sorry. Thought we were doing…good. Ending world hunger. Sorry, sorry, sorry…” He devolved to a babbling singsong of apology.
Luke pocketed the gun and stepped forward to grab the guy by the lapels and give him a shake. “Can you stand? Let’s get you inside. We’ve got an experimental therapy that should buy you some time.”
The man shook his head. “Nothing can…help me now. He didn’t give me…the extracted proteins. When I said…wouldn’t be a part of it anymore…he injected me with the fish nutrient…which is…fatal within an hour. Then he…threw me out and…left me to die.”
Luke and Rox crouched closer as his voice faded. “What nutrient?” she demanded. “Do you know how to counter it?”
He nodded. Wincing, he reached into his mouth and pulled out a wad of something. “Crazy bastard didn’t think to search…in there.” He pressed the soggy mess into Luke’s hand. “Save them…town shouldn’t have to suffer…”
He trailed off, going limp.
“Wait!” Rox said quickly, urgently. “Who is he? Who did you work for?”
But it was too late. He was gone.
Luke stood. “Godspeed, stranger. Thank you for doing the right thing.” He turned to Rox, holding out his hand, where the wad of paper sat, saliva-soaked and leaking ink. “Let’s see what he died to bring us.”
MAYOR WELLS’S fingers trembled as he punched in the phone number he’d hoped never to use, and waited for the other man to pick up.
“This isn’t a good time,” his investor said brusquely, not bothering with a hello.
“You told me to call if the doctors started getting close to the FDA licenses and chemical purchases.” Wells clutched the handset, which had gone slippery with sweat. “They’re making the calls now. They know everything.”
The other man cursed, low and bitter. “Okay. I’ll deal with it.”
“Do you want me to—” Wells began.
“No. Stay out of it.” The line went dead.
Wells put down the phone, but he didn’t leave his office to join Beatrice for another silent, strained dinner he wouldn’t taste. Instead, he rose and reached for his briefcase, popping the clasp and withdrawing the unregistered weapon he’d carried for days now.
Yes, his investor had told him to stay out of the way, probably to protect him in case things went wrong. But Wells couldn’t help thinking of the points he’d gain if he helped his mysterious friend.
Maybe even enough to make that senate seat a reality.
“Sorry, folks,” the mayor whispered. “It’s about priorities.”
He left through a side door. Beatrice probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone.
“CAN YOU READ IT?” Rox was practically vibrating with impatience as she leaned over Luke’s shoulder, watching him unfold the page on the kitchen table. “Can we make the antidote here?”
He scanned the page—it was legible, thankfully—and mentally reviewed what they had on hand. Then he nodded. “It’ll be a slow process, but yeah, we can do it. Lucky for us we brought in so many reagents for the hybridizations.”
Thom stared at the schematics, his lips working silently. After a minute, he said, “Yeah. We can do it.”
“Then let’s get started.”
Captain Swanson leaned against the kitchen table, arms crossed, expression pensive. “You’re sure he didn’t tell you anything about where he came from?”
Rox shook her head. “Positive. He just kept talking about being sorry, and wanting to bring us the cure. Do you recognize him?”
Swanson shook his head. “He’s not a local, that’s for sure.”
They were all gathered in the big monastery kitchen—Luke and his teammates, Roxie, the police chief and two of his officers. The doctors were concentrating on the antidote, though Luke was keeping half his attention on the cops.
Provided they could make the antidote, they should be able to cure the outbreak and get Raven’s Cliff headed in the right direction again, but that still left the question of who had developed the fish nutrient in the first place.
It wasn’t even really a nutrient, he thought, looking at the first of the chemical s
tructures on the page, that of the original molecule. It looked more like some of the cancer chemotherapeutic drugs, only this one created at least one mutation that they were aware of, and probably more.
Worse, according to the stranger, it was highly toxic to humans.
“Why would someone want this thing kicking around?” Rox said, leaning over his shoulder again. “Any scientist in his or her right mind would’ve shut this project down long ago.”
“The key words being ‘in his or her right mind,’” Luke agreed. “Since he appears to have taken this ‘nutrient’ straight from the bench into open-ocean testing, I think we can agree sanity and ethics aren’t his top priority.”
Swanson pushed away from the table. “Well, you two have certainly given us some good leads to work with. I’ll see what I can do about tracking down drug purchases and FDA licenses coming into this area.”
“Let me know if you need me to throw my weight around at all,” Luke offered. He glanced at the laptop screen and noted the time. “Though I doubt either of us is going to get very far before business hours tomorrow.”
“True enough.” The police chief sketched a wave and headed out, leaving two officers to stand guard.
“I’ll pull together some dinner,” Rox offered.
Luke nodded. “Sounds good, I’ll help Bug and—”
He was cut off by the sound of gunfire from the front of the building, followed by a man’s yell.
“Stay here!” Luke shouted, and headed for the front at a run, pulling his .22 as he ran.
Rox was right behind him. “Captain Swanson, are you okay?”
Luke snarled, “I told you to stay in the kitchen, damn it!” But as she’d reminded him the night before, he wasn’t her boss. He cursed under his breath. “At least stay the hell behind me.”
He peered around the arched door leading to the entryway. “Patrick? You okay?”
“I’m okay,” Swanson called. He stepped through the main doors, looking disgusted. “He didn’t even come close to hitting me.”
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