Dancing Tides (183 page)

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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense

BOOK: Dancing Tides
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S
a
me
build. S
a
me
e
y
e
s.
S
a
me
h
a
ir
c
olo
r
i
n
g
but
g
ra
y
i
n
g
a
t the
t
e
m
p
l
e
s
.


W
e
ll, th
a
t
is
int
ere
stin
g
.

A
nd som
e
thing
h
e’
d l
e
f
t out
e
nti
re
l
y
—until no
w
.
“E
th
a
n, how soon
w
ill
y
ou be
a
ble
to
c
h
ec
k this
g
u
y
out
?


I
ca
n do
a
c
r
imin
a
l b
ac
k
g
r
ound
c
h
ec
k
on him in
f
ive
minut
e
s.”

“T
h
e
n l
e
t

s do it,”
Co
r
d
s
ug
g
e
st
e
d.
“Af
t
e
r
a
ll this tim
e
,
I
n
ee
d to kno
w
.”

A
nd it
wa
s a
lo
n
g
f
i
f
t
ee
n
minut
e
s l
a
t
e
r
b
ef
o
r
e
Co
r
d h
a
d his
a
ns
wer
s.

Ch
a
pt
e
r
S
e
v
e
nt
e
en

 

C
o
r
d d
ec
id
e
d a
t
r
ip to
F
r
e
sno m
a
de
the
m
o
st s
e
n
s
e
.
Af
t
e
r
t
h
e
w
a
y
h
e
h
a
d
p
rac
ti
ca
l
l
y th
r
o
w
n the
g
u
y
o
f
f
the
p
r
op
er
t
y
it
w
a
s the
l
ea
st he
c
ould do.
H
e
n
e
e
d
e
d to
m
ee
t the
m
a
n
a
g
a
in
a
nd it h
a
d to be
f
a
ce-
to
-f
ace
, m
a
n
-
to
-
m
a
n.

Ke
e
g
a
n
h
a
d
a
g
r
ee
d to
g
o
w
ith him, m
a
in
l
y
b
eca
u
s
e
he
didn

t
wa
nt to do this
a
lon
e
.
He’
d done
e
no
u
g
h in his li
f
e
b
y
hims
e
l
f
.
H
e
wa
nt
e
d, n
o
, he
n
ee
d
e
d
h
e
r
th
e
r
e
w
i
t
h him
f
or
w
h
a
t mi
g
ht p
r
ove
to be
a
h
ear
t
-
wre
n
c
hing
p
r
o
c
e
ss.

T
h
e
y
s
p
e
nt the
t
r
ip t
a
lking
a
bout the
c
i
rc
umst
a
n
c
e
s th
a
t h
a
d b
r
o
u
g
ht Co
r
d
r
ound
a
bout to P
e
li
ca
n Pointe
a
nd how
h
is
fa
t
he
r
h
a
d
b
ee
n a
m
er
e
th
re
e
hou
r
s
a
w
a
y
the
e
nti
r
e
tim
e.


W
h
a
t
ar
e
the
odds of
t
h
a
t, Co
r
d?
I
m
ea
n, six
months
a
g
o
y
ou

d
n
e
v
e
r
e
v
e
n h
ear
d of
o
u
r little
to
w
n, didn

t
e
v
e
n pl
a
n on
c
oming
b
ac
k to C
a
li
f
o
r
nia
a
t
a
ll to liv
e
.
A
nd no
w
—”

“A
nd now
I

m on the
w
a
y
to t
a
lk to the
fa
t
h
e
r
I

d
g
iv
e
n up on t
w
o
d
eca
d
e
s
ear
li
er
. Sin
c
e
I
wa
s t
e
n
y
e
a
r
s old,
I
f
i
g
u
r
e
d no one
wa
n
t
e
d m
e
.
N
o
w
I
know
w
h
y
.
T
hose
f
a
mili
e
s p
r
ob
a
b
l
y look
e
d
a
t me
a
nd s
a
id,

n
o
w
a
y
a
m
I
t
a
ki
n
g
a
c
h
a
n
c
e
on a
kid
w
ho
s
e
fa
th
e
r
mu
r
d
ere
d his
w
i
f
e
.


Ke
e
g
a
n nod
d
e
d.

I
t

s not
fa
ir
to the
c
hild, but th
e
n
, th
a
t

s how
p
e
ople
think
.

“T
u
r
ns out, this
g
u
y
sp
e
n
t a
d
eca
d
e
looking
f
or
m
e
.
W
ond
e
r
w
h
y
t
h
e
C
a
pt
a
i
n n
e
v
e
r m
e
ntion
e
d th
a
t
?

She
studi
e
d him
a
s he
f
o
c
us
e
d on the
t
r
a
ff
i
c
.
“T
he
C
a
pt
a
i
n
?
Y
ou
’r
e
s
a
y
i
n
g
y
o
u think S
c
ott Phil
l
ips should

ve
som
e
how
m
e
ntion
e
d this to
y
ou du
r
i
n
g
o
n
e
of
y
our
m
a
n
y
t
a
lks?
W
h
y
?

“D
on

t look
a
t me
like
t
h
a
t.
I
told
y
ou he
s
p
e
nds a
lot of
his time
th
e
se
d
a
y
s
out
a
t the
far
m.
Ye
st
e
r
d
a
y
af
t
er
n
o
o
n he
t
e
lls me
h
e’
s
c
er
t
a
in
Rob
b
y
M
ac
k
is
h
ea
d
e
d
o
ut
we
st.”

Ke
e
g
a
n p
u
ffe
d out
a
b
r
ea
th.

W
a
s th
a
t the
d
ef
initive
thing
th
a
t m
a
d
e
y
ou
c
ome
into to
w
n to b
rea
k up
w
ith m
e
?
S
c
o
tt s
car
ing
y
ou into thinking
this
g
u
y
is on his
w
a
y
to
g
e
t
y
ou
?

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