Deep Waters (10 page)

At least she now knew for certain that she was not going to be stuck for the rest of her life with panic attacks every time a man touched her. What a relief.

Euphoria shot through her.
Cured at last.
She felt a ridiculous grin curve her mouth.

And then she became aware of an eerie thrill curling through her insides. The sensation was not one of sharp, terrifying anxiety, but it certainly did not have a calming effect.

It took her a moment to recognize the devastating sweep of raw desire. She stopped grinning, caught her breath, and nearly stumbled when she realized exactly what it was that was affecting her senses. So this was how real sexual attraction felt.

“Are you okay?” Elias asked as he steadied her.

“Yes.” Damn. She was actually breathless. “Yes, I'm fine. Tripped over a little stone. Hard to see clearly at this time of night. It'll be full dark soon.”

He gave her an odd look but said nothing.

She'd had one or two pleasant, sincere relationships over the years, no more than a couple because there had never been any time. Her life had not been her own since the day the avalanche had killed her mother and stepfather. Saving Truitt for the next generation had been her only focus. Then she had developed that stupid phobia to poor Brett.

What with one thing and another, she had never experienced anything even remotely akin to this wild, fluttering excitement.

Please don't let this be another kind of precursor to an anxiety attack, she thought. Please. Not with this man. No more dumb phobias. This feels too good.

What shook her was the sense of intimacy involved. It was as if Elias was allowing her to sample some of his own personal energy. She wondered if he was getting a few tingles from her. Then she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Different, she decided after due consideration. Very different. About as out-of-the-ordinary, say, as the
arrival of a fleet of spaceships carrying aliens from outer space.

“All right, it's your turn,” she said briskly. “What's your question?”

“Hayden mentioned once that when you opened your bookshop a year ago, you single-handedly revived the rest of the businesses on Crazy Otis Landing.”

Charity made a face. “That's a gross exaggeration. Tourism has been gradually increasing here in the cove for a couple of years. We've been discovered in a small way, and the pier is a natural draw. All that was necessary was to provide a reason for visitors and locals to stop. A bookstore does that nicely.”

“He also told me that under your influence, the other shopkeepers have become more businesslike this past year. He said they come to you for advice. He credited you with convincing Bea to install an espresso machine, for example.”

“I had the advantage of having spent several years in the corporate world,” she reminded him. “I wasn't cut out for it, but I certainly learned a few things. When the others come to me with questions, I try to help. But the truth is, I owe them far more than they owe me.”

“How's that?”

She hesitated, just as he had earlier, searching for the right words. “When I first came to the cove, I was completely burned out.” She slanted a quick glance at his profile. “You probably heard a few of the rumors?”

“A few.”

She exhaled deeply. “Well, most of them were true. I did make an incredibly embarrassing scene on the night I was to become engaged to a very nice man named Brett Loftus. Had a panic attack, in fact. Right
there in front of half the movers and shakers of Seattle. I felt terrible. I mean, it wasn't Brett's fault that he was too big and that I didn't… well, never mind.”

“Too big?” Elias's voice was oddly neutral.

“Yes, you know.” Charity waved a hand in a vague gesture. “Too tall. Too large. All over. For me, that is.” That wasn't fair, she thought. Her therapist had explained that Brett's size hadn't been the real problem. Unfortunately, her brain had linked her fear of the relationship with his physical stature. The result had become a full-blown phobia.

“I see.” Elias's tone sounded even more strange.

“Have you ever met him?”

“No. But I've seen him. I heard him speak once at a luncheon at one of my clients' business clubs.”

“I'm sure that he would be just fine for another woman,” she said hastily. “My stepsister, for instance. Lots of women admire, uh, size in a man.”

“I've heard that.”

“But every time poor Brett … well, you know. I just couldn't stand it. He was such a gentleman. He attributed my problems to stress. It was really very awkward.”

“Sure. Awkward.”

“But the bottom line was that when it came right down to it, the thought of … of …” She felt herself blush furiously and was profoundly grateful for the deepening shadows. “Doing it. On a regular basis, that is. The way one would in marriage … I mean, a man as big as that, well, it was just too much.”

“I think I get the picture.”

She cleared her throat. “At any rate, the merger I had planned for months did not go through.”

“You stepped down from the helm of Truitt department stores.”

“Yes. With no warning to my stepbrother and step
sister. I just abandoned them. I spent a few weeks getting therapy, realized I could never go back to the business world, and decided to move. I more or less threw a dart at a map of Washington. And here I am.”

“What happened next?”

“A funny thing.” Charity smiled. “I rested. Walked a lot here along the bluffs. Got back into cooking. And then one day I went looking for something to read and realized that Whispering Waters Cove had no bookshop. I went down to the pier and talked it over with Hayden. He rented space to me. Within a couple of months I started to feel reasonably normal again.”

“You know,” Elias said thoughtfully, “under your management, Whispers would flourish in a boutique version of Whispering Waters Cove. You have nothing to fear and everything to gain if the town council's plans work out.”

“I'm doing fine as it is. I prefer slow, steady growth. Big leaps are hazardous in business. If you crash, you go down in flames. Besides, my aspirations aren't as high as they used to be. I like small business. I think it's a calling. You get to know your customers personally. There's something very satisfying about it.”

“But there's no reason to tie the future of your business to that of the other businesses on the pier,” Elias insisted. “Why are you doing it? Why form the shopkeepers association? Why do battle with the mayor and the town council?”

Charity frowned, puzzled by his line of inquiry. “The other shopkeepers are my friends. They welcomed me with open arms when I first came to Whispering Waters Cove. They were generous and supportive, and they've been good neighbors.”

“So in order to pay them back, you've committed
yourself to helping them hang on to Crazy Otis Landing?”

“It was the least I could do. You've met them. None of them are what you'd call sophisticated business people. A big corporation would roll right over them.”

“True,” Elias admitted.

“They all ended up on the pier because there was nowhere else for them to go. They've formed a community. They need each other. I think Hayden understood that.”

Elias smiled wryly. “Hayden had no interest in going boutique, himself.”

“All I want to do is give the pier shopkeepers a chance to stay where they are as the town begins to pull in more visitors and tourists.”

“Do you think that Yappy and Ted and the rest can learn to compete with a bunch of art galleries?”

“If necessary.” Charity shrugged. “But who knows? Maybe the upscale shops will never materialize.”

“In the meanwhile, you've thrown in your lot with the pier crowd.”

She studied him with a long, considering glance. “So have you. If you're telling me the truth about Far Seas' intentions, that is.”

The sound of an off-key flute and loud voices rising and falling in an enthusiastic chant forestalled whatever response Elias might have made to her deliberate challenge.

“Looks like the show has started,” he said as they emerged from the trees.

Charity looked around. They had reached the outskirts of the old campground. A large assortment of recreational vehicles were clustered together on the bluff overlooking the cove. Several of the vehicles had been decorated with designs that vaguely resembled ancient Egyptian motifs. Others were painted with
imaginative futuristic landscapes and bizarre visions of the universe.

There was no one in sight. Gwendolyn Pitt's followers were all down on the beach.

At some point in the distant past, a long fence had been installed along the edge of the bluffs. It stretched the length of the campground. There were two openings, one in the center and one at the far end. Each provided access to a narrow path that led down to the rocky beach.

The droning chant filled the air. Charity looked over the edge of the sagging fence and saw the Voyagers gathered below at the water's edge. There were about twenty of them, she estimated. The number had grown during the past week. There was just enough light left to make out the flowing blue and white robes and the brightly beaded headbands that comprised the cult's uniform.

She saw that the small crowd had formed a circle and linked hands. They swayed to the beat of the drum and flute.

The last of the coppery twilight glow disappeared as the sun sank out of sight behind the mountains. The first star appeared. The chants grew louder. The drum beat faster.

A dynamic figure broke free of the circle and raised her arms above her head in a commanding gesture. Silence fell. The Voyagers turned to face her with murmurs of anticipation.

“That's Gwendolyn Pitt,” Charity said to Elias.

“I know. She introduced herself the other day at the grocery store.”

“Did she? I've talked to her a few times during the past month. She seems committed to her concept, but I can't quite bring myself to buy into her act. Something
about seeing a successful, hard-nosed realtor turn into space alien guru is a little tough to swallow.”

“You can say that again.” Elias studied the woman on the beach with a thoughtful expression. “Looks like she shops at the same places Radiance Barker does.”

He was right, Charity decided. Gwendolyn Pitt looked as if she could have stepped straight out of one of the sixties' era posters Radiance had used to decorate the nail salon.

When she raised her arms, the sleeves of Gwendolyn's gown fell back to reveal rows of wide metal bracelets. But there was still the hint of the professional real estate saleswoman about her in her short, tailored, artificially blond hair and expensive shoes. It did not take much imagination to picture Gwen Pitt in a crisp business suit with a briefcase in hand.

She was in her late forties, not especially attractive, but her features were strong and assertive. There was a certain steely quality about her. Whatever else she was, she was a driven woman. Charity could almost see the sparks.

“Five nights, my friends,” Gwendolyn intoned in a loud, sonorous voice that carried up the side of the bluff. “Only five more nights until the great starships come. Midnight of the appointed day will soon be here, and
they
will arrive in all their brilliant splendor.”

“Something tells me that woman knows how to close a deal,” Elias said.

“Enlightenment awaits, my friends,” Gwendolyn continued in rolling accents. “Unparalleled knowledge of our own true sexuality and an understanding of the philosophical laws of the universe shall be ours. Our bodies will be made perfect by advanced alien science. Our lifespans will be vastly extended in order that we
may have the time to learn all that we are destined to discover.”

The crowd sent up a rousing shout of agreement.

“That is one angry lady,” Elias said softly.

Charity glanced at him curiously. “How do you know that?”

“It takes a lot of rage to pull together an operation the size of this scam.”

Charity recalled what he had just finished telling her about his own plans to destroy an old enemy. Elias knew whereof he spoke, she thought. She would do well to bear that in mind. The sizzling sexual attraction she was feeling was certainly interesting, but that was no excuse for being stupid where this man was concerned.

“Maybe she really is simply deluded,” Charity mused. “I suppose it's possible that she actually believes that the spaceships will arrive.”

Elias studied the scene on the beach. “If you're prepared to buy that, I've got a nice pier I can sell you. No, she's not crazy, she's got an agenda. Be interesting to know what it is.”

“Power?”

“That's probably part of it, but not the whole. If she just wanted to run a cult for the sake of exercising power, she wouldn't have announced such a close deadline for the arrival of the spaceships.”

“I wondered about that myself,” Charity said. “The Voyagers just got here last month, and the fifteenth of August is only five days away. She's bound to lose a lot of credibility when the ships don't show.”

Elias braced a booted foot on the bottom rung of the fence. He kept his grip on Charity's hand. “There must be some significance to the deadline.”

“Most people think she's in it for the money. Newlin
says that his girlfriend, Arlene, and the others have turned over their life savings to her.”

“That's standard procedure for this kind of thing. But why bring her followers to Whispering Waters Cove? The place has got to hold some bad memories.”

“And humiliation.” Charity grew thoughtful. “The new Mrs. Pitt is here, after all. Gwen and Jennifer must run into each other at the grocery store and at the post office. A little awkward, to say the least.”

“How's Gwen's ex, the real estate broker, dealing with it?”