Wynne’s spirit smote her. Becca was right. She needed to shut up and listen. She listened to everyone else, but tended to tune out God. “Okay,” she said meekly. She leaned her head back against the headrest. Quieting her heart, she listened for the still, small voice inside. The voice she often shouted to silence with her thoughts.
When she opened her eyes, she knew God had answered. All it had taken was for her to shut up long enough for His words to get through. She smiled at Max. “Let’s go get Simon out of jail.”
“Attagirl,” he said. He maneuvered the truck through the pedestrians and parked in front of the jail.
Wynne was out almost before the truck had rolled to a stop. She took the sidewalk at a dead run and burst into the sheriff’s office with Max and Becca on her heels.
The woman behind the counter jumped defensively when Wynne banged her fist on the counter. “I want to see Simon Lassiter,” Wynne said.
“Just a minute, I’ll get the sheriff,” the woman said. She rose and hurried down the hall. It was nearly five minutes later before she returned. “Sheriff Rooney will be here in a few minutes. He was out late last night and isn’t in the office yet.”
“I’ll wait.” Wynne went to the row of chairs along the back wall. Max and Becca joined her. She’d flipped through a hunting magazine when Rooney finally showed up.
His uniform was a bit rumpled, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Wariness crept into his face when he saw the three of them. “Follow me,” he barked. He strode down the hall to the last office on the right. “Have a seat. I’d offer you coffee but it’s yesterday’s and it was lousy then.” He dropped into the cracked leather chair behind the desk.
“I want to see Simon,” Wynne began.
“I figured you weren’t here to shoot the breeze with me,” Rooney sighed. “I’ll let you see him, but I need you to get him to talk to me. He’s hiding something. And until I know what it is, my gut tells me it has something to do with the murders.”
“Murders!” Wynne exclaimed at the same time as Max and Becca.
“Yep. An explosion sank the yacht. It was no accident.”
Wynne shuddered. Though she knew it had to have been murder with all the things that had been happening, she’d still hoped there was some other explanation. “Let me talk to Simon,” she said slowly.
“Follow me.” Rooney stood and took keys from his desk drawer then led her to the confinement area.
The hall stank of despair. Wynne wanted to run for the sunshine, but she wanted Simon more than she wanted air.
“Wynne!”
She heard Simon call her name just ahead to the left. She bolted past Rooney and reached the cell before he did. She thrust her fingers through the bars and touched his. He looked tired and drawn, but the light in his eyes warmed her.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. He bent down and kissed her fingertips.
She wanted to tear down the bars and free him with her bare hands. She turned to Rooney. “Let him out. You have no cause to keep him.”
“Hold your horses,” he grumbled. He unlocked the cell and swung open the door. “You got fifteen minutes.”
Wynne paid no attention. She barreled into the cell and threw herself into Simon’s arms. He caught her and kissed her then buried his face in her hair.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered.
“What’s happened? How could he arrest you?” she demanded.
“He can’t keep me. He has no evidence.”
She pulled back and looked up into his face. “He says you’re hiding something. Are you?”
“He wants to know about the argument. I can’t tell him. He’ll throw away the key and I’ll never get out of here.”
Wynne’s gaze searched his face. “I learned something today. It’s about faith and trust and truth. God is truth, and He never steers us wrong. If we listen to Him, He guides us into what’s true and right and good.”
His hands dropped from her shoulders. He slumped. “You want me to tell him?”
She regarded him steadily. “Yes. Let’s both trust God and step out in faith.”
He straightened his shoulders. “Okay. But I want you there.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
TWENTY
Simon sat in Rooney’s office. Wynne sat beside him and held his hand. Becca and Max were waiting in the reception area. Simon returned the pressure of Wynne’s fingers. His pulse throbbed.
Rooney pushed a mini tape deck forward. “Okay if I turn this on?”
“I guess.” Simon’s mouth was dry. “Can I have some water?”
“I’ll get it.” Wynne jumped up and went to the water cooler and filled two paper cups.
Simon took a gulp and the cool water cleared his jumbled thoughts. He drew in a deep breath. “Okay, you wanted to know what the argument was about. You already know I found out she was embezzling from me. The rest of it is just a continuation of the sordid mess. Amanda told me she had taken the money for Jerry to invest in the business. That he’d promised her a huge return on her money if she could get him a hundred thousand dollars.” He didn’t dare look at Wynne. He didn’t want to see disappointment in her eyes.
“And?” Rooney prompted.
“And if she could make enough money, she wouldn’t need me,” Simon finished. “She was using me for my money. She’d never loved me. I was just her latest cash cow.”
“And that angered you, I’m sure. How did you blow the hole in the boat?”
“I didn’t. She begged me to cover her embezzlement or she’d implicate me in the crime as well.”
“Blackmail.” Rooney’s expression was deadpan.
“Not really. I wasn’t afraid of her. I told her I’d cover for her, but our engagement was off. She told me to meet her at lunch and she’d give me my money back—that she’d get it back from Jerry. I went to meet her, but she never showed. I heard she’d gone off on the boat with her suitcase, and I knew she’d scammed me. She had no intention of paying back the money.”
A weight felt as if it had lifted from Simon’s shoulders. He squeezed Wynne’s fingers again. She was right. It felt good to get it all out in the open. It sounded bad, but hiding it had been worse. He dared a glance at her and smiled at the trust he saw in her eyes. His revelation hadn’t shattered her faith in him.
“That’s it?” Rooney sounded disgusted.
“Yeah.”
Rooney heaved an exasperated sigh. “Get out of here. I’ve already heard most of this.”
Max drove back to Windigo Manor while Wynne told Max and Becca what had happened. She kept glancing at Simon, but he sat with his eyes closed and his head on the headrest. He must have had a rough night. He kept possession of her hand though.
Once they reached Windigo Manor, Simon pulled her to one side. “Let’s go check on our Viking treasure,” he said. “What if my being arrested allowed someone to steal it?”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” she said soothingly. “But sure, we can go. Do you need to call the others?”
“I guess we could use some backup.” He dragged his cell phone out and called Joe and Bjorn. “Bjorn is busy but Joe can come.”
As they hurried out to the boat dock, Simon took her hand in a natural way that caught her by surprise. The warm clasp of his fingers around hers sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. She clung to his hand as they hurried along the uneven ground to the waiting boat. Simon stepped aboard then helped her hop onto the deck. Her sandal snagged on something, and she lost her balance and fell against him.
He caught her against his chest. She could hear the way the thud of his heart sped up under her ear. The masculine scent of him dried her mouth. And she had the most insane urge to slide her arms around his neck and lift her face up to meet his. What would he do if she did that? Run the other way, most likely, though she knew he wasn’t immune to her. Still, was it the same depth of feeling that raged in her own heart?
While all the thoughts and impr
essions raced through her head, she realized Simon was still holding her, and she was still liking it. She looked up into his eyes. The expression in his face made it impossible to move. His right hand slid up her arm, clear up to her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone.
“You have the most expressive face I’ve ever seen,” he murmured. “I’m not going to hurt you, Wynne.”
“I’m trying to trust in that area, too,” she croaked. She couldn’t have moved away if her life depended on it.
“You’re different from every other woman I’ve ever met. Let your heart tell you the truth of this.” His left arm cinched her more tightly against his chest, and his lips came down to meet hers.
A myriad of emotions raced through her—elation, desire, and fear all vied for control. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself in the warmth of his lips. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe.
Caution screamed for her attention, and she finally dragged her mouth from his.
He slowly opened his eyes. “Wow, again,” he said. “Is it going to be that way every time I kiss you?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her trembling lower lip. “I think we’d better stick to business.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he said softly. His eyes crinkled up at the corners as the tenderness in his eyes grew.
Wynne knew she had to move or she would be lost in that gaze. She stepped back and dropped her arms from around him. “We’d better get out there. We don’t have long.”
“This isn’t over,” Simon said. “When we have time, we’re going to talk about us.”
“There is no us,” Wynne said. But she knew it was a feeble excuse.
“Maybe not yet,” was all Simon said as he helped her aboard the boat.
Her heart resumed its normal rhythm by the time Joe joined them and they cast off. She hardly dared look at Simon as they rode the waves to the coordinates. They suited up and went overboard. The shock of cold water helped get her thoughts organized again. They would have time to sort this out later.
Wynne sank down to the bottom of the lake. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. She gave Simon the thumbs-up, and he nodded, his smile lifting behind his mask. They worked for two hours then headed back to the boat.
Rising to the sunshine, Wynne was ready for a break. She wanted time to examine what had happened the last few days. She felt like her life was a fast steamer on a track to the unknown, and she didn’t know if she should jump ship or not.
Simon could barely keep his thoughts on the job at hand, and that fact was an indication of how powerful his feelings for Wynne had developed. The Viking ship had obsessed him for years, but what he felt when he kissed Wynne had been a firestorm of emotion he’d never experienced. Diving in the cold water cleared his head, but it didn’t clear the yearning he felt to have Wynne in his arms again.
By the end of the day, they had gathered Viking jewelry, combs, knives and beads. Their treasure had been cataloged and locked away. “I’m done working for the day. How about some fun?”
Wynne’s concentrated frown smoothed, and she looked up at him from where she crouched, sifting the last pail of muck from the bottom of the lake. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about a picnic on Gull Island?”
A delighted smile lifted her lips. “I’ve been wanting to get out there and go bird-watching. Becca says she’s seen a snowy egret there.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen all kinds of birds out there. There’s a nice beach, too. Not that we want to get back in the water.”
“I don’t know, I could work on my tan a bit. We don’t get much sun being covered with a dry suit and underwater all day.”
Simon’s gaze lingered on her face. She had a light tan, and the sunshine had popped out a sprinkling of freckles across her nose.
Color spread over her cheeks at his perusal. “I wish you’d stop looking at me like that,” she murmured.
“Like what?” He was getting a kick out of disconcerting her.
“You know perfectly well what I mean.” She looked away. “What about food for this picnic?”
“We’ll drop Joe off at the dock, then stop at the café and get fried chicken and coleslaw. They’ve also got a sinfully rich chocolate brownie.”
“Now you’re talking my language.”
He loved to watch the way her face changed expression. There were so many facets of her personality that drew him. She didn’t hide behind a mask like so many women. She put herself out there for a friend to accept or reject, and Simon found himself embracing that transparency. It was a refreshing change.
They stopped by the café and loaded up on food, then got back on board and headed out to Gull Island. Wynne sat in the bow with the wind whipping her long black hair back from her face.
The island came into view, and he guided the boat to the sheltered inlet, then dropped anchor. He handed Wynne the food. “You carry the food, and I’ll carry you.”
Her eyebrows winged up. “I don’t need to be carried.”
“Have you ever been here before?” He grimaced. “It’s mucky here and the lily pads will try to swallow you whole.” He jumped into the water. “Come here and quit arguing.”
A smile eased her frown. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?” Holding the sack of food, she slipped her arms around his neck and leaned into his chest.
He slid his arm under her knees and lifted her from the boat. The mud sucked at his bare feet, and he staggered when a rogue wave struck him in the back. A mat of lily pads wrapped itself around his knees, and he struggled to free himself.
Wynne was shaking, and he looked into her face. She was struggling to smother her laughter, but it burst out when their gazes connected. “Some knight you are. You’re trapped, aren’t you?”
“Of course not.” He jerked on his right foot, but it held fast in the mud. He tried the other foot. No luck. “Okay, maybe I am stuck.” If it weren’t for the smile on her face, he might have been embarrassed, but the delight in her eyes made a deep rumble of laughter erupt from his chest.
“You’re enjoying this too much. Maybe I should let the lily pads have you.” He acted like he was going to toss her into the waves, and she clutched him tighter.
“If I go down, so do you,” she warned. The sunlight glinted in her hair and lit her face.
“I’m convinced.” He tried to pull on his foot again. “Any ideas how we get out of this? I can see the headlines now—Famous Marine Archaeologist Found Floating Among The Lily Pads.”
She giggled again, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard someone laugh with such delight and abandon. He could spend a lifetime listening to her laughter.
The realization tightened his face, and his smile died. His gaze searched her face and lingered on her lips.
The merry light in her eyes faded, and she looked up at him with a transparent expression.
Simon knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he couldn’t resist the way she caught her lower lip in her white teeth and gazed at him with such yearning. He bent his head and his lips found hers. Her warm breath whispered across his face, and he inhaled the scent of her—the hint of mint on her breath, the underlying aroma of fresh lake water and herbal scent in her hair. Her lips were warm and yielding under his, and she kissed him back.
When he pulled away, they were both breathless.
“I don’t think that’s going to get us free from the lily pads,” Wynne whispered.
“Maybe not, but it sure makes our predicament more fun.” He tried to smile, but couldn’t carry it off.
He loved Wynne Baxter, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do about it.
TWENTY-ONE
“So, my dear, what are you going to do to get us out of this predicament?” Wynne tightened her grip on Simon’s neck. She was in no hurry for him to put her down.
“I’m not sure. Got any ideas?” He tugged at his foot again then shrugged.
“You’d better put me down
,” she said. “Float back into the water and let your legs come up.”
“I’m not sure I like that answer,” he said. “We’ll both be soaked.”
“We’ve got dry clothes on the boat. I’ll get them while you get loose.”
He lowered her into the water, and the shock of cold cleared her head. What had she been thinking? The deeper she got in with Simon, the more the thought of her new project in Australia failed to excite her. She had signed a contract, and she had to go.
She flayed through the water and clambered aboard the boat, then wrapped dry clothes for both of them in plastic. Holding the plastic package over her head, she waded to shore. Simon had extricated himself and was busy gathering wood for a fire on the sand.
“I’ll get the food,” she said, wading back to the boat. The waves struck her as they rolled toward the beach, and she staggered at their cold slap. Arming herself with the picnic basket, she trudged back to shore.
“I’m going to get changed,” she told him. “You stay here.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” he said, saluting.
She trotted down the path to a small lean-to that had been on the island for as long as she could remember. She ducked inside and quickly changed her clothes. Once she was warm and dry, she hurried back to the beach and found a fire sputtering on the wet wood Simon had found.
She held her hands over the flames. “Got any marshmallows?”
“Nary a one. Sorry. Want a blanket?” He’d changed while she was gone as well.
She was still cold. “You have one?”
“Your wish is my command.” He dug in the picnic basket and brought out a cotton blanket. “It’s not heavy but it’s warm.”
“Anything will help,” she said as he dropped it around her shoulders. He’d pulled logs around the fire, and she settled down on one. “I’m famished. Did you happen to call and tell my family I’d be late? I meant to do that when we stopped for the food.”
“I didn’t think about it.” He frowned. “We can’t call now, either. Gull Island is in a dead spot and the cell phone doesn’t work. Want me to take the boat out to a spot where it works and call them?”
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