HIGH TIDE (5 page)

Toying with the striped straw in her soda, the young woman’s jet-black hair slid down her shoulders in a lush ebony waterfall. Short bangs barely concealed her downcast eyes.

Briana caught Naoki watching her too. “She doesn’t look like she’s having much fun,” he mumbled.

“No, it would appear that way.” Briana saw the light of interest in Naoki’s eyes, but knew if she pushed he would scurry out the back door.

“Now would you look at that,” he asserted. “Bob Thomas is putting the moves on her. Heck, he can’t even walk straight.”

Across the bar they watched as the young woman tried to ignore the intoxicated surveyor. He draped
himself across the back of her stool, leaning over her shoulder and talking so loud that she flinched.

“Maybe her boyfriend is in the bathroom,” Naoki offered.

“I don’t think so. There’s no empty stool beside her, and she’s been sitting there since we came in.” Just a heartbeat of a pause, and then Briana prompted, “I think you should go distract Bob.”

Naoki’s eyebrows knitted. He watched the girl shift uncomfortably. “Yeah, I
-I think I should too. Will you be okay?”

“Me? Of course. No one’s going to bother an old broad like me.”

Naoki shook his head as he alighted off the barstool and took one last indecisive glance across the counter. “Yeah, thirty-three, right? Or have the carbon-dating tests come back yet?”

Briana smacked his shoulder and then shooed him with a wave of her hands. “Go, quick. Bob’s starting to drool on the counter.”
  

With a tightening in her chest that bordered on maternal pride, or simply that she was melancholy, Briana watched Naoki divert Bob Thomas,
and then pause uncertainly behind the raven-haired beauty. His first attempt at conversation was off its mark. The girl gave a non-committal shrug and returned to the glass clutched in her hands.

Come on, Takanawa. Try again.

Bob elbowed his way to the foreground, his bright floral shirt clinging to a beer belly. Naoki’s hand came to rest on the surveyor’s forearm, and with a few emphatic words, Bob was swiping his fingers through thinning hair and shifting towards the next target, a buxom blond, deep in conversation with the bartender. From this distance Briana recognized the shy grin emerging on Naoki’s face as the raven-haired beauty turned in her seat and contemplated her redeemer. Only a few more minutes and Naoki was sliding a discarded barstool alongside the young woman.

Briana chuckled and took another sip of her drink. Duping Naoki into believing that he was dragging her out, she had been concerned that her introverted friend needed to mingle with people his own age and actually manage a social life rather than follow in her tedious footsteps. Satisfied with the results, Briana frowned as an errant elbow shoved her from behind. A throng of new arrivals pressed against the bar.

Briana yanked her purse over her shoulder and shoved past them.  Reassured that Naoki was engrossed in conversation, she tactfully wove her way through the crowd, and out into the rosy blend of twilight.

Just across the street was Manale State Park
, where college students were readying their outriggers for trial races. Briana took a deep breath of humid air and instinctively started towards
Manale Palms.
It was as if she were homed to the site by an internal beacon. Reaching the entrance, which was roped off to the public, she waved at the night guard who was accustomed to her nocturnal visits.

The fountain was shut down and a serene silence permeated the cul-de-sacs
. All that could be heard was the whisper of palms over skeletal, unfinished rooftops.

Briana crossed her arms against the evening chill. It rapidly grew darker and there were only two functional streetlights in the complex. They shed faint arcs of light against the fresh blacktop, but the pooling shadows concealed ditches that if one weren’t careful could swallow a person whole. Treading deftly around obstacles that were seared in her mind, Briana made her way towards the bayfront property.

The gentle sounds of water lapping against the seawall enticed her as she tilted her head and listened to the distant churn of a fishing boat coming in. Its overhead lights cast glistening diamonds across an inlet that had blended into a dusky shade of wine.

Briana tugged the hem of her skirt up to mid thigh.

Conquer your fears
.

She climbed onto the seawall and felt the breeze assault her. For balance, she splayed her hands out by her sides and then tipped her head back to ponder the half moon. In this pose, the trade winds molded her body, like a hug from the island Gods. The embrace was like no other, and it distracted her from the water lapping so near her feet.

***   

Irritated by the absurd whim to stake out a construction site that in effect locked down at dusk, Nick made one last sweep of the waterfront lots and focused on the patterns of the tide. Engrossed by the gentle ebb of the bay, he frowned at water which was traditionally docile, but now rippled in slow, agitated rolls. Perhaps the untrained eye would not have noticed. Several native fishermen already had
however, and brought their testimonies forward to his office in Honolulu.

Reaching the seawall, an organized layer of rocks patched together with thickets of cement that averted the bay, Nick critiqued its construction. He was so absorbed with his inspection he nearly missed the shadow suspended at the far end of the barrier.

The moon slid from behind a misty veil to reveal a siren with her arms stretched back, her body arched in offering to the sea.

Motionless, he was entranced by the outline of her body.
It conjured up images of goddesses relayed to him by his grandfather. Avid, he traced the curve of her chin, down the soft arch of her throat to high breasts caressed by the wind. At length his eyes slipped down long, poised legs, until without thought, he whispered her name.

Briana’s head snapped down. She teetered precariously and spun to identify the
voice. He took a step closer, gazing up at her perched atop the sea-wall.  Her frustrated sigh was unmistakable.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered out of reverence to the peace of twilight.

For a second, Nick averted his gaze. “I expected to find your workers dumping into the ocean after all the crowds had gone home.”

Briana simply nodded and turned back towards the sea.

“No berating on your part?” he questioned.

“No
,” she hesitated. “There was nothing for me to hide and now there’s nothing for me to say.”

“Briana—”

Exasperated, she shot him a challenging look over her shoulder.

“Ms. Holt,” he continued with a droll smirk. “Just because I haven’t caught you, that doesn’t mean you’re innocent.”

“You know what,
Mr
. McCord?”

“Nick,” he grinned.

“You know that
Manale Palms
is not responsible for whatever it is you’re looking for. You’re just floundering because you have no clue what’s going on under that beautiful stretch of water.”

“How insightful.” Nick reached a hand up into his hair. “And how accurate.”

Seemingly intrigued by his despondency, Briana turned around, careful to maintain her balance. He sensed that she felt at an advantage staring down at him.

“Don’t take it so hard,
” she allayed. “If I can help, if I see anything—”

“
Briana
!”

Startled by his shout, Briana
’s mouth dropped open. Fear stamped her expression as a wave surged behind her knees with such a low but relentless force that she toppled forward. Nick caught her and nearly fell back himself. He struggled against the suction of the slick as it endeavored back to sea.

Retreating on
hazardous terrain beneath the pooling stream, Nick hooked an arm beneath Briana’s legs. His other was clasped protectively around her back as he eyed the now placid bay with disbelief. Several more receding steps placed him back on dry ground, where he sensed Briana’s erratic heartbeat against his own.

“Y-you can put me down now.”

Securing her close to his chest, he looked down into anxious eyes. Short, erratic breaths raked across her lips.

“No,” he whispered against her hair. “No, I can’t.”

The uncharacteristic reaction of the bay troubled him. How could he have missed the unusual swell? Well, that was simple—he had been engrossed with the exquisite siren summoning nightfall.

Briana trembled in his arms, and even in the encroaching darkness he could see the glint of accusation in her eyes as she searched the bay. And then, incredibly, her head dropped against his shoulder and rested there.

Nick stood still, attuned with the wind, seeking illumination in its pattern—any rationale for the errant wave he had just witnessed. It was important to get back to his den and research this anomaly. A single uncontrollable wave—perhaps only five feet in height—in itself non-threatening.

Yet, where did it come from?

Instead of a grown woman, this could have been a child, alone, playing atop the sturdy seawall.

Briana stirred and made a soft sound of protest. Gently, he released her legs and let them slide down his until she stood before him.

***

Thankful to feel the ground beneath her feet, Briana was nonetheless anxious by the light touch of Nick’s fingers around her waist. It was getting dark
and the streetlights were yards away. Nick was an enigmatic profile, still close enough that their breath mingled. She felt his hand rise as the backs of his knuckles caressed her cheek, and his husky voice rumbled in the humid air. “Are you alright?”

“I—”
She glanced down at their legs, so close together that she felt the brush of his thigh. “I lost one of my shoes.”

“I noticed that,”
he whispered.

“I’ve never seen a wave like that in th
is bay.” Her voice was hoarse.

Gazing out on the serene cove, she saw the sprinkling
lights of incoming vessels, and the blazing tiki torches of waterfront restaurants. “Not like that—not here.”

“Not when the sky is crystal clear, the stars are out, and the weather charts are fair for at least fifty miles.” Nick added with a frown. “Look, I’ve got to get back to my lab, there has to be an explanation for this.”

His hand dropped from Briana’s arm as she staggered back a step.

“Please find it,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to imagine this happening when children are playing in this park.”

Nick nodded in agreement, and the words spilled out before he could retract them. “Then, come with me.”

Nightfall beset
them, as she wished she could read his eyes. After a moment’s consideration she tossed aside any valid rejections and whispered, “Okay.”

There would be time later to analyze h
er motivations. Right now her heart still hammered with apprehension over the ocean’s brief reprisal, and the memory of Nick’s arms around her.

Nick c
leared his throat. “Be careful on that foot, there might be broken glass around here.”

“Not on
my
property,” she vowed.

CHAPTER FOUR
 

Wind whipped through the open jeep as they drove along the coast. Briana drew her hair up into a ponytail to keep it from lashing against her face.

“Are you cold? I can put the roof up.”

“No,” she replied honestly, tilting her head into the air.

Assaulted by the smell of saltwater and hibiscus, combined with humidity and fleeting patches of cold air—all these sensations made her feel alive.

She stole a quick look at the driver. The muscles along Nick’s jaw clenched and released as he let go of the steering wheel with one hand to rub at the tension behind his neck.
She had the absurd desire to replace his hand with her own—to ease the pain with her own caress.

Uneasy, she shifted her attention back to the black ocean. Nick’s silence made her uncomfortable only because he seemed anxious. That anxiety extended to her as she thought of what just transpired tonight.

In her estimation, she had not judged the height of the seawall properly, yet another mistake in construction that could have cost innocent children injury or worse. Nick was probably sitting there, condemning her right now. She tipped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes to feel the wind tickle her throat...and mutely beat him to it.

In her periphery, she
felt his discreet glimpses her way. She tried to focus on the poorly lit road, and barely noticed the gap in the trees as Nick banked the jeep onto an unmarked dirt lane. With rugged tenacity, the vehicle crept down a rutted path until the gleaming ocean halted their progress. As he pulled up before the gnarled trunk of a banyan tree she heard him say, “Hang on. Let me go turn on some of the outside lights.”

Listening to his solid stride, Briana wanted to call out and say that she could see just fine in the wake of the moon, but held her tongue, allowing a moment to regroup and study the beachfront bungalow. Before her, the Pacific Ocean glimmered beneath the stars, but the rest of the property was guarded by a stockade of trees. Coconut palms and thick banyans offered refuge from humankind. Right here, before this
gleaming stretch of sand, Briana truly felt she was in another world.