Stormcatcher

by Colleen Rhoads

  Simon watched him go with a sinking feeling. “He’ll be back. Wilson doesn’t give up easily. I’d better file on this find before he does.”

  “Should we post a watch?” Wynne asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m going back down to put out some buoys. That will mark it as our find.”

  “You think that will deter him?”

  “It had better,” he said grimly.

  THIRTEEN

  “Let’s get some coffee,” Simon told Wynne when they docked the boat.

  “I’m game.” Her bones ached from the cold.

  She followed him to Bob’s Eats. It felt as if buzz of conversation faded when they stepped inside. Maybe it was her imagination, but it almost seemed as though the men were staring at Simon. She thought she saw suspicion on several faces.

  The waitress brought them coffee. “Sheriff’s been looking for you.”

  Wynne didn’t like the way Rhonda said it. She looked at the waitress with a question in her eyes.

  Rhonda shrugged and glanced at Simon. “Better watch yourself, Simon. I hear he thinks he’s got almost enough evidence to arrest you.”

  Simon looked stricken. As soon as the waitress was gone, Wynne leaned toward him. “We need to figure this out, Simon, before you end up in jail. Rooney is convinced it’s either you or a Canadian drug ring. I think we’re going to have to find the truth ourselves.”

  “I’m not quite sure how to go about that,” he said.

  “What about the old manager, Roger?” Wynne asked.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “We could poke around his neighborhood, maybe talk to some of his employees. You said he started his own business. Shelby Boats, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Simon was beginning to look encouraged.

  “Let’s see what we can find out.”

  They bolted down a sandwich then drove out to the neighborhood where Roger lived. An older man was out cutting the grass with a push mower. Simon stopped the truck.

  “Let me ask the questions,” Wynne said. She put on her most charming smile. Her size tended to be in her favor. She was so small, older men especially tended to underestimate her and treat her as a child.

  The man returned her friendly smile. Dressed in a red gingham shirt and jeans, he looked to be in his sixties. “You lost, little lady?”

  “I’m looking for the Shelby house,” she said.

  “You found it.” The man nodded to a neat brick house with green shutters. “The Shelbys live there.”

  The man’s friendly smile reassured her. “Oh, great. Have they lived here long?”

  “Oh, ’bout ten years or so. Nice family.”

  It was time to probe more deeply. “Oh? I heard Roger has a bit of a temper.”

  “Don’t we all?” The man grinned. “Are you with child protection services? The last one who was here was older than you.”

  Bingo. There was more to Roger than they’d seen so far. “No, I’m not with the agency. Has he been investigated for mistreating his kids?”

  The man’s open, friendly look began to fade. “Nothing major. I’m sure Roger is a fine father. He spends a lot of time with his kids.” Suspicion began to creep across his face. “Who did you say you were?”

  “Thanks for your help,” Wynne said hastily. She hurried back to the truck and told Simon what she’d found out. “It sounds like he’s got quite a problem with his temper.”

  “That still doesn’t make him a murderer.”

  “No, but it sure makes him a likely suspect,” Wynne said. “Any man who would mistreat his kids is capable of anything.”

  Simon looked grim. “True.” He glanced at Wynne. “You want kids?”

  “I didn’t use to think so, but since Isabelle has come along, I’m beginning to think I might.”

  “I love kids,” Simon said as he put the truck in gear and drove away from the curb. “I was an only child and I always wanted a brother and a sister. I wouldn’t mind having a whole houseful.”

  Wynne glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His good nature and patience would make him a good father. She stifled a gasp at the mental image that came to her mind of her and Simon around a dinner table with three children. Where had that come from? She needed to watch herself or she was going to get hurt.

  Simon turned and looked at her. Was that a wistful look in his eyes? His pensive smile did funny things to her insides. She glanced away and looked out the window.

  “We’re not far from Jake’s. You want to stop by?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “I was just thinking about that. I didn’t want to ask.”

  “You can ask me anything, Wynne. You’ve gone out of your way to help me. I’d do just about anything for you.”

  The unexpected note in his voice brought her gaze back to him. What she saw in his gaze dried her mouth. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at her with that expression of longing and tenderness.

  What was developing between them? She was almost afraid to examine it. The feelings that stirred in her heart were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. And it was all moving too fast. Did that mean it was just infatuation?

  She cleared her throat and looked away. “Do you know how to get to Jake’s?”

  “Sure.” He turned on Jake’s street. “It’s the yellow house with blue shutters, right?”

  “Yes.” She leaned forward in her seat. “Jake and Skye are outside.”

  Her brother and sister-in-law were sitting in a yard swing. Jake’s arm was around Skye, and they were deep in conversation. Skye was looking up at Jake with an expression that warmed Wynne’s heart. She loved to see Jake and Skye so happy.

  Wynne and Simon got out of the truck. Jake turned his head at the sound of the truck door. “Hey, what are you two up to?”

  “We were in the neighborhood and thought we’d stop by and make sure you were taking good care of Skye,” Wynne said. She hugged her sister-in-law.

  “Want some iced tea?” Skye asked.

  “Sure. But stay put. I’ll get it.” Wynne went inside while Jake and Simon dragged yard chairs from the garage. The aroma of apple and cinnamon drifted to her nose from the candle on the mantel.

  Wynne peeked into the nursery. Jake had painted it a pale yellow and Skye had done a mural of Noah’s ark. The tiny animals frolicking on the painted meadow looked so lifelike.

  Wynne heard a sound and turned to see Skye behind her in the doorway. “This is so darling, Skye.”

  “I love it. Now if this baby would just get here.” Skye rubbed her stomach.

  “One more month.”

  “You sound wistful. Your turn will come.” Skye’s smile faded. “You’re spending a lot of time with Simon.”

  “It’s just a job,” Wynne said.

  Skye laughed. “I don’t believe that for a minute. You were off the lake hours ago and you’re still together. I’m not blind. I see how you look at him and how he looks at you. There’s something going on there, Wynne, whether you’re willing to admit it or not.”

  Wynne put down a stuffed bear she was holding. “Maybe. How did you know for sure Jake was the one?”

  Skye looked pensive. “Jake made me feel safe and alive all at the same time. I knew I could trust him with my heart and my life.”

  It was easy to see that ability in Jake. Simon made Wynne feel like that, but she wasn’t sure she could trust him like she trusted Jake. Why was she so frightened to trust? Maybe it was because she felt it so deeply this time. She knew if Simon betrayed her in some way, she might never recover.

  This feeling she felt uncurling in her chest was different than anything she’d ever experienced. But also scarier. And that was the real problem. It was one thing to venture beneath the water and explore. It was something else to be willing to explore the depths of feelings she’d never had.

  Skye smiled. “You look terrified. I know the feeling.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. With feelings this big, you
know if you lose it the hole it will leave might swallow you up. But step out in faith, Wynne. I think God brought the two of you together.”

  Wynne was beginning to think Skye might be right. She followed her sister-in-law back outside where they talked for a while. The women made spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner, and it was nearly nine o’clock by the time Simon drove her home.

  “I had a nice time tonight,” Simon said, turning the truck off in front of Windigo Manor.

  The moon shone on the lake, and Wynne could smell the fresh scent of the water through her open window. “Me, too,” she said. “Thanks for going to Jake’s with me.”

  His arm was along the back of the seat. With a slight movement, he caught a lock of her hair in his fingers. “I love your hair,” he murmured. He leaned over, brought it to his lips and kissed it.

  No one had ever kissed her hair before. Before she could respond, Simon pulled her toward him and bent his head. His lips found hers in the darkness. She put one hand on the smooth fabric of his shirt.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair and dragged her closer as he kissed her. The scent of his skin, the tenderness in his lips and the touch of his hands in her hair caught her up in a cauldron of emotion. She clung to him as a tidal wave of longing swept her up.

  When he finally released her, she managed to drag in a breath. She put her fingers to her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed quite like that before,” she whispered.

  His breath whispered across her face. “Me neither.” His voice was husky. “And don’t accuse me of using charm on you. You’re a special woman, Wynne.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “I’d better go in,” she finally said after a long pause. She still didn’t move. If only she could hold on to this moment. All her doubts about how she felt seemed insubstantial in the light of the storm of longing that had swept over her.

  She wanted Simon in her life, but she was afraid to let him know. Scrambling out of the truck, she dashed for the house. She heard Simon shout something, but the wind snatched the words away.

  Simon drove toward his house. He was tired, but elated as well. His heart still raced from the kiss he’d shared with Wynne. He loved just sitting and watching her expressive face. Today she’d shown her courage and pluck.

  She didn’t have to dive today after being attacked but she’d insisted. Did that indicate her attraction to him? He was afraid to analyze it.

  He turned down his street and noticed car lights coming up fast behind him. Keeping an eye on the approaching vehicle, he found himself pressing the accelerator. The other car zoomed up behind him and rode his bumper, something Simon hated.

  He tapped his breaks to warn the other vehicle to back off, but the car began to edge around him. Simon pulled to the left, nearly onto the shoulder. This wasn’t a good place to be pulling such shenanigans. The night was pitch-black. The road hugged the cliff that looked down on waves that crashed onto rocky shores. One false move and it would be easy for a car to go over the side.

  Fuming, he clenched the steering wheel with both hands. “Just go around,” he muttered.

  The car drove beside him, then with a sudden movement it crashed into the side of his truck. Metal screeched against metal, and Simon fought to keep from skidding in the gravel along the shoulder. The tires screamed, and he gritted his teeth and struggled with the careening truck.

  The other car slammed into him again, and he realized for the first time that the other driver was deliberately trying to run him off the road.

  He jerked the wheel to the left and slammed into the other car. The other vehicle swerved and barely missed the rocky outcropping on the other side of the road. Simon jammed on his breaks and pulled his truck onto the shoulder. The other car sped away.

  Simon tried to read the license plate but it was too dark. He didn’t recognize the vehicle, either. But someone had just tried to kill him.

  The grandfather clock in the hall sounded twice—2:00 a.m. Wynne flounced on the bed and punched the pillow. She hadn’t been able to sleep since Simon called to tell her someone had tried to run him off the road.

  It only gave more credence to the thought that Jerry and Amanda had been murdered. Wynne wondered what the sheriff was discovering about the sunken boat. Why would anyone have wanted to kill them? Jealousy maybe? And why was the killer targeting Simon? Or was Simon the target all along?

  Maybe she should ask Simon for a list of Jerry’s old girlfriends and ask more questions. She pummeled the pillow again and rolled over. Her fingers crept to her lips. Just thinking about Simon made her lips tingle all over again.

  She heard a sound and saw a shadow flit by her open door. Recognizing her sister’s shape, she sat up. “Becca, is that you?”

  Becca poked her head in the door. “Shhh, you’ll wake the baby.”

  Wynne lowered her voice. “Sorry.” She patted the bed. “Want to gab a little like we used to?”

  Becca bounced onto the bed and giggled. “Max will wonder what happened to me.” She flopped on the other pillow and slipped under the quilt. “I wanted to talk to you anyway. You were glowing when you came in tonight. Anything you want to tell your big sister?”

  “Big sister? I’m the older one.”

  “But I’m bigger,” Becca said smugly. “You’re a shrimp.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Wynne said dryly. She wanted to talk to Becca about Simon but didn’t know how to begin.

  “What’s up with you and Simon?” Becca asked after a comfortable silence. “When you came in tonight, you were glowing.”

  Wynne’s cheeks burned. “Glowing? I think you’re exaggerating.”

  “No, I’m not. And you were dreamy-eyed all through the rest of the evening. Did he kiss you?”

  “Nosy, aren’t you?” Wynne laughed and put her palms on her hot cheeks.

  “He did, didn’t he?” Becca clapped her hands. “Oh, dear, I’m going to wake up the baby.”

  “Okay, he did,” Wynne admitted. Instead of Becca crowing, her sister went silent. “What?” Wynne demanded.

  “Are you going to hurt Simon?”

  “I thought you and Max were worried about him hurting me? Was that just hype to get me interested in him?”

  Becca sat up. “No, no. I was concerned, but now I see how vulnerable he is. And you’re so driven, Wynne. Your career is everything. Can you imagine living on Eagle Island and not going off on a new adventure?”

  “For the first time I’m actually considering what that might be like,” Wynne admitted in a low voice. “The thought of leaving for Australia isn’t very attractive, and I was really excited before I came here.” Was she losing her drive? Had meeting Simon changed her that much?

  Her sister went silent at her admission. Then she cleared her throat. “You’ve got it bad, big sister,” she said softly.

  Becca wasn’t telling Wynne anything she wasn’t already beginning to suspect herself.

  FOURTEEN

  Simon acted as though nothing had happened between them. Wynne tried not to feel disappointed. What had she expected—for him to hold her hand and make eyes at her? She told herself to grow up.

  When they reached the Windigo Wind coordinates, Wynne looked out over the white caps. “Where are our buoys?”

  Simon frowned. “You’re right, they’re gone. There was no storm last night.”

  They looked at one another. “Wilson,” Wynne said slowly. She pulled on her dry suit and fins, then went overboard. Kicking down through the clear water, she got to the boat before Simon. He joined her moments later as she stared in dismay at the boat. Someone had begun salvage on it. A hole had been knocked into the hull.

  Simon glanced at her then swam inside the steamer. Wynne felt too heartsick to join him. The best stuff was likely gone. Wilson must have been very determined to have come out here at night.

  After a few minutes, Simon joined her and they swam slowly back to the boat. When her head broke the surface, she spit out her mouthpiece. “He
’s stripped it, hasn’t he?”

  “Yep,” Simon panted. “I’m going to file a complaint. I’d clearly marked it with buoys in accordance with maritime law.”

  “All you can do is take him to court and it’s a long process. He knows he won’t have to answer for it,” Wynne sputtered.

  “Yeah, I know.” Simon sounded resigned. “Let’s get our gear and do what we can.”

  They worked until nearly four o’clock, taking half hour breaks to warm up. Wynne found interesting artifacts still in cabinets and other rooms, and her initial anger began to fade. They would have to post a guard to keep Wilson out though.

  She and Simon climbed aboard for the last time that day. Wynne squeezed water out of her hair, then wrapped it in a towel. She felt as cold as Superior in a January blizzard. The June sun was not enough to ward off the bone-chilling effect of Lake Superior’s depths. She snuggled into her terry sweats and sat beside Simon.

  He gave her a weary smile. “I had no idea archaeology was such hard work. It’s not much like Indiana Jones.”

  “The movies tend to romanticize things,” Wynne said, her smile widening. It was a common misconception. And marine archaeology was especially challenging since the scientist was working in an unnatural environment.

  “You did a good job today,” Wynne told him. “Tomorrow will be better. You’ll have some idea what you’re doing.”

  Joe joined them. He sat beside Simon and propped his bare feet on the dash. “Want me and Bjorn to stand guard tonight?”

  “If you’re up to it,” Simon said.

  Wynne listened to them talk and watched the white foam that rolled over the tops of the endless blue water. She spotted a boat moving toward them. With a start, she recognized Mike Wilson’s boat. “Speak of the devil,” she said. She sprang to her feet and threw a tarp over the artifacts they’d found that day. Hopefully, Mike wouldn’t get close enough to see, but she was taking no chances.

  The other boat drew nearer, and Mike hailed them. His portly figure was clad in an all-white outfit she assumed he thought looked dapper, when in reality, it made him look even rounder.