Thunder Island

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Thunder Island Page 21

by Meryl Sawyer


  “Lisa’s heir to a pharmaceutical fortune.”

  “Carina Maria Estevez is practically royalty in Bogotá.”

  It sounded like drug money to Thelma Mae, but if she didn’t ask, she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

  “What about Jennifer?”

  A moment of hostile silence followed. He finally responded, “What about her?”

  “You had me give her a room here. She thinks you’re going to marry her.”

  “Did you ever think I was?”

  “I had my doubts,” she conceded, “mostly because of Jennifer. Like I told you earlier, she’s much too interested in Kyle to be in love with you.”

  “Ask me if I care.”

  But he did care, Thelma Mae knew. The apple never fell very far from the tree. Chad was his father all over again. He didn’t want Jennifer, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her, either.

  Chapter 23

  It took a lot of willpower but Jennifer managed to temper the urge to confront Kyle. There would be plenty of time in the morning, she assured herself as she changed into her bikini for a swim. She needed to think things over once more and examine her own feelings more closely before talking to Kyle.

  Restless, she slipped out of the room and left Sadie still snoozing beside the bed. The shadowy corridor was strangely silent, thanks to the tourists who’d fled Key West after the hurricane. A few had returned, but the guest house was less than half full.

  Outside, the balmy air carried the fragrant scent of magnolias and night-blooming jasmine. A cat’s paw of wind lofted the fronds on the trio of royal palms guarding the back terrace. The yard lights went off each night at eleven, but a lover’s moon rode high above a single bannerlike cloud and lit the terraced area leading down to the water.

  At the tide line, Jennifer saw someone standing and almost turned back, recalling the time she’d met Kyle on the shore. Then she realized Raven was wading in the ankle deep surf, her back to Jennifer.

  What was she doing here? Raven should be fan dancing at the club now. The statuesque brunette’s hair cascaded down her back, stopping at her hips where the thin strap of a gold lamé thong caught a ray of moonlight.

  “Hi, there,” Jennifer called softly, not wanting to startle Raven.

  Raven slowly turned and fluttered her eyelashes. The light sparkled off her dark eyes, and Jennifer realized the woman had been crying. Raven swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “Silly, isn’t it, crying over a man?” Raven asked Jennifer, a catch in her voice.

  Jennifer didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t comfortable discussing her own problems. Talking about Raven’s troubles made her want to walk away, but there was something so sad in Raven’s voice that Jennifer forced herself to stay put.

  “I’ve cried over a man, too,” Jennifer admitted after an uncomfortable silence, “and it’s never worth it. Later, you’ll kick yourself.”

  Raven giggled, a choked sound. “I’m a two-time loser. You would have thought I would have learned my lesson with Chad.”

  Chad’s name exploded inside Jennifer’s head like a grenade. For God’s sake, how many women had he been involved with?

  “Chad? I thought you and Chuck …” Jennifer let the sentence dangle like a baited hook.

  “Chad used to come from Miami to see me every weekend,” Raven said. “Then he met someone else.”

  “When was that?” Jennifer asked, hoping she hadn’t been the other woman.

  Raven dug one toe into the sand. There was something graceful yet provocative about the movement, and Jennifer could well imagine Raven onstage mesmerizing the male audience. “Three years ago.”

  Jennifer stifled a sigh of relief.

  “It took me all this time to get to the point where I could have another relationship.”

  “We have something in common,” Jennifer explained, telling more about herself than she normally would have. “Chad pulled the same thing with me. I even believed he wanted to marry me.”

  Stunned, Raven gazed at her for a long moment. “Don’t blame yourself. He’s great at conning women.”

  Jennifer stared out at the ribbons of moonlight reflected on the incoming waves. “I can’t believe I was such a sucker.”

  Raven laughed, a low, choked sound. “Now Chad’s met his match.”

  “Lisa? His match?”

  Raven gazed at her with knowing eyes. “You bet. Chuck and Lisa are much closer than ordinary twins. No one will ever come between them. I learned that the hard way. Now it’s Chad’s turn.”

  Jennifer thought for a moment, realizing Raven was correct. The twins did seem to be closer than any siblings she’d ever known. She hadn’t really paid much attention, but she had picked up on something strange about them that she’d attributed to Lisa’s illness.

  “When Lisa had leukemia, Chuck donated his bone marrow for the transplant,” she explained to Raven, although she was fairly certain the other woman already knew the story. “A traumatic experience like that brings people closer together.”

  Raven arched one finely sculpted eyebrow, indicating this did not satisfactorily explain the twin’s relationship.

  “What makes you think Lisa can hurt Chad?” she asked Raven.

  “Because she has something he wants very badly.” Raven paused, then added, “Money.”

  Jennifer thought a moment, not recalling Chad being overly interested in money, but then, she’d missed so much about him. This might not have been an aspect of his personality she’d seen when they’d been dating.

  “The twins inherited the Leftram Pharmaceutical fortune, right?” Jennifer asked, vaguely recalling what Plotzy had told her—not that the man was terribly reliable.

  “True, but they’ve run through a chunk of it. Chuck’s been day trading stocks on the Internet.”

  “Uh-oh,” Jennifer said. “It’s dangerous to speculate how a stock will do based on a single day’s performance. It’s a good way to lose a fortune overnight.”

  “That’s what I told Chuck,” she replied, her tone fond yet sad. “He wouldn’t listen. Now, Lisa’s giving him hell for it.” Two beats of silence followed while Raven gazed out to sea. “And she’s giving him hell for being involved with me.”

  Jennifer reached out and touched Raven’s arm with her fingertips. “Don’t cry over Chuck. He isn’t worth it.”

  Something sparked in the depths of Raven’s eyes. “Yes, he is. He understands me.”

  “But will he cross his sister?”

  “He says he will, but I doubt it. That’s why I’m so upset.”

  “Maybe he will,” Jennifer said without conviction. “Stranger things have happened.”

  It was after eight o’clock when Kyle knocked on Jennifer’s door the following morning. No answer. Not that he was surprised. He’d lain awake for hours, staring at the ceiling fan slowly rotating over his bed, thinking about Jennifer. When he’d finally fallen asleep, he’d been so exhausted that he’d overslept for the first time in years.

  “Jennifer’s gone.”

  Kyle whipped around and found Chad Roberts standing behind him. Where in hell had he come from? Okay, okay. He must be losing it. Jennifer had so dominated his thoughts that his SEAL training hadn’t kicked-in. He hadn’t heard Chad come up behind him. A mistake that could prove fatal.

  Chad’s smile was just a hair too cocky to suit Kyle. “I carried Sadie downstairs for her.”

  “Great. Thanks.” Kyle turned and walked down the hall, set on putting distance between himself and Chad.

  “Everyone’s going over to the house Trevor Adams is restoring on Angela Street,” Chad said as he followed Kyle down the stairs.

  Kyle wondered if “everyone” included Jennifer and decided it did. Since it was the weekend, there weren’t any classes at the base. She probably would spend time at the range, then go help Trevor.

  “I hear you’re teaching at the base,” Chad said from behind him, his tone just a touch too friendly.


  “I’m teaching antiterrorism techniques.” Kyle hit the main floor and headed toward the dining room where Thelma Mae put out a continental breakfast each morning.

  “I quit the DEA,” Chad informed him.

  “That so?” Kyle helped himself to a bagel and a cup of coffee. He turned around with the full cup and almost bumped into Chad.

  “Yeah, I’m tired of dragging in drug lords and being on the cartel’s hit list.” Chad grinned with a self-deprecating shrug, and Kyle had to admit he was handsome and charismatic, the type of man women fell for. “It’s time to get married and settle down.”

  “Really?” He choked out the word. He’d heard Jennifer leave her room last night. He’d assumed she’d gone to settle things with Chad.

  Had they made up instead?

  Aw, hell. From the shit-eating grin on the guy’s face, they had.

  There were several other guests in the dining room, but Kyle didn’t know them. He walked over to an empty table and hoped Chad got the message. Of course he didn’t. Chad grabbed one of Thelma Mae’s famous cinnamon rolls and a mug of coffee, then came over to sit with Kyle.

  “Will you continue to teach at the base, or do you have other plans?” Chad asked as he sat down.

  “I’m not sure.” Kyle was so pissed he could barely get the words out.

  After the way Chad had treated Jennifer last night at dinner, how could he act as if everything was okay? Was this any way to treat a woman? How could Jennifer take it? Didn’t she realize she deserved better?

  “I’m going to sit back and let my old lady support me,” Chad said between bites.

  “You’re going to let Jennifer do all the work?”

  “Jennifer?” Chad looked at him as if he were speaking in tongues. “You seriously think I would marry her?”

  I would. In a heartbeat.

  “Hey, Kyle, women like Jennifer are skanks. Sluts. They put out for every cock that comes along. She—”

  “You sonofabitch!” Kyle lunged across the table and grabbed the prick by his throat. Before he could stop himself, Kyle slugged Chad. Like a geyser, blood erupted from Chad’s nose, and he toppled backward, knocking his chair to the floor and collapsing beside it.

  “Hey there, Kyle,” someone called as he walked through the door of the home Trevor was restoring.

  The house was a hive of activity, typical of all the rebuilding going on in Key West the last few days. Although the loss from Hurricane Frances hadn’t been severe, many of the historic wooden buildings in Old Town had been damaged. The locals, always a tight-knit group and none closer than the gay community, had chipped in to help each other with the repairs.

  “Langley, I’m surprised to see you here,” Kyle said when he realized who had called his name. He’d been expecting Matt Jensen or Logan McCord, but not Tyler Langley. Recalling the b.s. he’d given everyone at dinner last night about becoming a treasure hunter, diving for sunken booty, it seemed out of place to find him here.

  “I’m helping Trevor,” Langley told him. “He’s up in the attic fixing the rafters the tree split in half.”

  “Have you seen Jennifer?”

  “Don’t I wish.” Langley moved closer, saying in a low voice, “You’re the first straight person I’ve seen.”

  What a crock, Kyle thought. Langley’s tone pissed him—big time, but his knuckles still smarted from decking Chad. Trevor and his friends were stand up guys, men you could count on to help you. That’s why he was here.

  “If it bothers you, leave.”

  Kyle bounded up the stairs without a backward glance. But he couldn’t help wondering about Langley. He seemed easygoing and likable—most of the time. Yet he was lying, hiding something.

  Kyle spent the rest of the day at the Angela Street house, helping Trevor and his friends repair the roof. It was tough work, since no nails could be used and still meet the Preservation Society’s standards. Instead, they hammered in wooden pegs to secure the rafters and boards like the ships’ carpenters who had originally built the home in Old Town.

  The sun was beginning to set, and Jennifer had yet to appear. This surprised Kyle. Raven had arrived around noon with the twins, and eventually Plotzy had ambled into the house, although no one had actually caught him doing anything except talking. The permanent residents of Thunder Island were present except for Jennifer.

  Thelma Mae handed Chad another ice pack to put on his nose. “The swelling’s gone down. It’s not broken. You should be fine by morning.”

  “It’ll never look the same. Never.”

  She gazed out the window across the widow’s walk at the sky washed with amber light. The sun was beginning to set. No doubt if she looked down at the beach, she would see Plotzy ready to go into the water to ward off the curse for yet another day.

  She had been up in Chad’s special room the best part of the day, nursing his bruised ego. This was a side of her child she might never have seen if it hadn’t been for Kyle Parker. Her son was vain—to a fault. X rays at the Emergency Room showed nothing more than a minor crack, but he’d been terrified his nose had been ruined.

  His cell phone rang, and he answered it. “It’s no big deal,” he told whoever was calling. “My nose didn’t even swell. You don’t think a wimp like Kyle Parker can get the best of me, do you?”

  Kyle a wimp? That was stretching the truth beyond its limits. Thelma Mae would have laughed except Chad was so much like his father. It was positively chilling.

  He could lie even more easily than he told the truth. Like father, like son, she thought with an inward sigh. After saying how anxious he was to marry her and give their child his name, he vanished the day after she’d told him she was pregnant.

  Still, even without having met him, Chad was remarkably like Lance Peterson. The resemblance wasn’t physical. Their personalities were so similar that it frightened her at times.

  “A party in Truman Annex?” Chad perked up as he said this, sliding the ice bag off his nose. “Sounds like a winner.”

  Truman Annex. The exclusive enclave adjacent to the Little White House, used first by Truman and later by Kennedy, was home to some of the wealthiest residents in Key West. She wondered who was giving the party, and secretly hoped Chad would bring her along.

  She lived just outside Old Town in an area of restored mansions mingled with others yet to be brought back to their original glory. Truman Annex was brand new, but built in typical Key West style with wooden buildings encircled by wide verandahs and eaves dripping with gingerbread scrollwork. It would be interesting to go inside one and compare it to Thunder Island.

  There would be no comparison, of course, but it would be fun to look anyway. She hadn’t had much social life since Delbert died nearly twenty years ago. Thunder Island was her life.

  Until now.

  Now she had a son, someone in her life besides a rambling old mansion that required constant upkeep, and a garden full of rare, exotic orchids. Having Chad back, despite his faults, energized her in a way nothing else had since the day she’d looked into his adorable face.

  Then handed him to the nurse, giving him up for adoption.

  Chad surged to his feet, his nose momentarily forgotten. “That was Lisa. The gang’s meeting at Mallory Dock to watch the sunset. Then we’re going to party at Clive Burrough’s home.”

  He shrugged out of his T-shirt, tossed it on the floor and pulled a fresh polo shirt off a hanger in the closet.

  “Don’t get into any more fights with Kyle.”

  “Not to worry. I can fix his ass anytime.”

  She didn’t want to ask how, so she kept her mouth shut.

  “Jennifer Whitmore is his hot button. All I have to do is get into her pants again.” He shoved his shirttail into the back of his khaki shorts. “Shit! That’ll be like taking candy from a baby.”

  He was out the door and halfway down the stairs before she could say, good-bye.

  Chapter 24

  Jennifer questioned the wisdom of taking Sadie to
meet the gang at Mallory Dock. It was the scene to end all scenes in Key West. The fabled sunsets had become a sideshow. Droves of tourists gathered at Mallory Dock each evening at dusk to see the weird acts.

  “You never know what act will turn up,” she said to Sadie. “My favorite is the Dalmatian who yodels ‘Dixie’ while balancing on her front paws.”

  Sadie hobbled along beside her as they trudged through the crowd standing shoulder to shoulder watching the various acts. Ahead, she spotted Raven with Chuck and Lisa. The brunette waved, seeming very happy, and Jennifer wondered if she’d been wrong. Maybe Chuck had chosen Raven over his sister.

  “Stranger things have happened,” she said out loud.

  A man in a Key West Sunset T-shirt and Hawaiian print swim trunks stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Strange, babe. Wanna see strange?” He grabbed his crotch.

  She elbowed him aside. “Get a life!”

  Kyle walked up just as she joined the group. “Where have you been all day?” he asked.

  “The rest of us were helping Trevor,” added Lisa. “It took all of us to repair the damage that tree did to his roof.”

  Jennifer waved at Tyler, who was shouldering his way through the crowd toward them and kept her eyes on him as she responded. “I was out at the firing range, and a couple of the guys were showing me how to use a sharp shooter’s rifle and scope.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kyle’s expression tighten. “My shoulder’s killing me, but I’m getting better.”

  Tyler was now standing beside her. “Better at what?” he asked with a suggestive wink.

  “Jennifer’s a crack shot,” Raven told him.

  “No, I’m not, but I’m trying to improve.” She leaned down and stroked one of Sadie’s long ears. She waited, reluctant to discuss shooting Sadie, but Tyler didn’t ask.

  Instead, he wanted to know, “What happened to the guy who swallowed swords? He was right over there last time I came to Key West.”

  “You know how it is,” Chuck said, his arm around Raven. “Acts come and go. I haven’t seen the sword eater in months.”

 

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