Hot Water (24 page)

Like a pro, he nosed the boat onto the sandy shore to offload their picnic lunch and beach gear.

“Angle the boat around in this cove.” She pushed the boat off and then plunged the oar into the sand where she wanted him to stop. “The water level will stay consistent for the few hours we’re here. The way the spit of sand curls around, the boat is protected from the main current and won’t get beached as the tide drops. Loop the dock tie-up line around this oar to hold the boat fast.”

“It’s no problem to get the anchor out,” he said.

“We’ll be right here next to the boat. Believe me. I’ll be keeping an eye on it.”

Once the boat was secured, he joined her on the beachhead. Further around the point, ocean waves lapped the shore, but here on the creekside of the inlet, all was serene. It was perfect for a picnic lunch.

“You know your way around a boat,” she said when they were standing on the sandy spit. A flock of sea gulls preened nearby, the only other living beings for as far as the eye could see.

“I spent several summers at the lake learning to water ski and did my share of operating the boat.” He shot her a wicked grin. “Did I pass the test?”

“What test?”

“Seemed like you were evaluating me on the ride out here. Thought I might be impressing you with my boating skills.”

She felt heat steam from her cheeks. “I was thinking.”

He didn’t answer right away. “About us?”

“About the possibility of us.”

“Anything’s possible.” He caressed her cheek. “If you want it enough.”

This was the discussion she wanted to have with him, but the words stuck in her throat like a molting crab. Was she wimping out? No. She wouldn’t cave to her fears. “I’m interested. Very interested. But I can’t dial in the image. There’s too much static.”

He drew her into his arms. “My dad told me a secret long ago. I didn’t realize its worth until recently. His wisdom helped me through a tough spot. It gave me the will to keep going when I lost my best friend. I think it applies to us, too.”

She searched his face, hungry to salve her fears. “What did he say?”

“No one knows what the future will bring.”

The words clunked around in her head, weighty and ill-fitting. In her job, she knew which people were screw-ups. She knew who obeyed the law and who didn’t. Just like she’d known Tom Harlow would quit the force. Her intuition had predicted the future many times.

Could she even rely on her intuition? It had recently failed in a big way. With Lester. His actions had blindsided her right up until the moment she realized he wanted her dead.

Were her hopes and dreams for a life with Wyatt based on her intuition or a flight of fancy? How could she choose between a personal life and a career?

“Laurie Ann?”

She shook her head to clear it. “Sorry. I got lost in my thoughts. Where were we?”

“You were on the verge of telling me you wanted to keep seeing me.”

Was she so transparent? Her thoughts skittered from outrage to practicality. Why deny it? Her hands fisted around a wad of his shirt. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Then we’re in accord. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I want you to be a part of it. Nothing has ever felt so right.”

Her eyes misted. She chewed on her bottom lip until she got her emotions back under control. They’d committed to giving their future a try. She was officially over her head in relationship waters. Time to change the subject before one of them said something mushy.

She patted her padded chest. “Let’s be in accord about this bulletproof vest. Lester is a fair shot with a rifle, but we can see for miles. It’s us and the seagulls out here.”

He grinned. “We’re alone in paradise. I’m all for wearing fewer clothes.”

The vest came off, and she felt pounds lighter. “Would you like to walk on the beach?”

“Probably not a good idea for your ankle. We’ll walk the beach next time. How about a quick dip in the water and lunch?”

The water would feel great on her throbbing ankle. Laurie Ann shucked off her sneakers and laid her array of weapons on the beach blanket next to the shotgun. She unwrapped the fabric bandage around her ankle.

Wyatt’s eyes widened at the array. “Looks like you picked up some hardware at your dad’s place. You didn’t have all that stuff this morning at the hotel.”

“I like to be prepared.”

He gazed at the distant dune line. “Is he watching us?”

“We’ll run into Lester sometime today. He’s not a beach person. Doesn’t like the whole sand in the swimsuit thing.”

“Nobody likes that, but a little discomfort is worth it to see hot chicks in bikinis.”

She sauntered toward the shallows in her shirt and undies. Was he following her? She glanced over her shoulder, pleased to find him directly behind her. “Didn’t bring a suit.”

His dark eyes gleamed. “Ah, but you wore something even better—a white T-shirt. It’s one of my private fantasies.”

A delicious idea occurred to her. She shrugged out of the rest of her clothes and tossed them on the shore. “Carpe diem.”

He glanced around. “What about passing boaters?”

Feeling as mysterious as the Biblical Eve, she eased down in the knee-deep water. “I’m willing to chance it.”

He tugged his shirt over his head. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Chapter 48

“Want the Glock or the shotgun?” Laurie Ann asked.

The warm haze of the best afternoon of Wyatt’s life faded. A glance at his companion confirmed his cop was strapping armament back on. The guns in question lay side by side on the blanket between them.

“Glock. You expecting an ambush?” he asked, taking another bite of the cold fried chicken from their lunch. Hands down, this was the best chicken he’d ever put in his mouth.

“Daddy taught me to be prepared,” Laurie Ann said, reaching for the shotgun and stowing it back in the boat. “We have a stop to make on our way home.”

“We do?”

“If I told your rent-a-cops everything, they would have tagged along. I didn’t want that, and I’m pretty sure you enjoyed our privacy this afternoon.”

He ran his hand across her silky thigh and was pleased at the heat flaring in her eyes. “Definitely a high point for me.”

“We’ll put in at a private landing on Sapelo. If Spivey and Miles are holed up out here, my friend Remy will know. He knows everything about everybody.”

“Do you expect company?”

“I expect the worst from Lester. He will find us. I’m sure of that. But whether it’s today, tonight, or tomorrow, I can’t say.”

“We need to get you a bulletproof helmet.”

“Forget it. Bad enough having to wear this heavy vest.”

“Your ankle okay?”

She tested the wrapped ankle as she stood to don her pants. “Feels good. Thanks for the tape job.”

“Nice to know my early years of riding the junior varsity bench weren’t completely wasted. I got even better at taping myself up when I was the varsity quarterback.”

“You’re handy to have around, North. I might keep you.”

Her teasing tone struck the right intimate note. “I’d like that.”

Laurie Ann’s eyes went all glassy and for a moment he thought she’d say something more. But his cop had important matters on her mind. She must be saving her emotions for later.

“Lock and load,” she said, handing him her Glock.

Wyatt tucked the gun in his waistband, same as she’d done for the ride out here.

He eased the boat into the ocean, rounding the bend and passing a red-and-white striped lighthouse. Next time, he’d like to explore this island and the lighthouse in a leisurely fashion, without worrying about someone trying to kill them.

They passed thick stands of marsh grass skirting the shore. The vegetation was so green and tall, it reminded him of a cornfield in late summer. Pelicans sat on pilings in the marsh. The sky was cloud free and such a dark blue it made his heart ache.

This was a moment.

What his sister Allie laughingly called a life moment, one that you remembered with startling clarity. He had no doubt he’d remember this day and this woman for the rest of his life.

Hopefully the rest of his life would last more than a day or two.

Laurie Ann motioned him toward the mud bank. He cut the motor and nosed into the dark goo. As before, she stuck an oar in the mud and looped a dock tie-up line over it. “Easier than fooling with the anchor.”

“What do you have against the anchor?”

“It’s heavy. The chain’s heavy too. Daddy will want me to hose all the mud out of the boat if I get it messed up. This will be fine. Trust me.”

She gestured with the shotgun. “This is the shortest way to Remy’s house, but the trek will ruin your shoes. You can stay here if you like.”

Let her waltz out of here alone and injured? No way. “Right behind you.”

“I like that about you,” she said. “You’re always up for a new adventure.”

He’d walk through ten football fields of mud if it would keep her safe.

“Bring the other oar,” she said.

Oars were for rowing. “Why?”

“Just in case.”

He got a sinking feeling in his knees. “In case of what?”

“In case we run across a gator. They usually stay in the water at low tide, but you never know.” She glanced westward where the sun blazed near the treetops. “We need to be quick about this. I promised Harding we’d be back on the mainland by dark.”

Wyatt nodded, stepped into the oozing muck and made his way to high ground. He used the oar to help him balance. Laurie Ann trudged ahead as surefooted as the little fiddler crabs scurrying around his feet, and he didn’t want to hold her back.

On dry land, he followed her example of kicking off his shoes. His relatively clean feet gleamed next to his mud-splattered ankles and legs.

When he looked up, an older man wearing faded cammos approached. He walked with a slight limp, and his face had been blackened with mud. Two pit bull mongrels lurked at the man’s heels. Wyatt’s hand crept toward his gun, but Laurie Ann kept the shotgun aimed at the ground. He took a deep breath. This must be her friend.

“I heard the motor stop.” The man nodded at her gun. “You expecting trouble?”

“I am. But I need to find Ray Spivey and Frankie Miles. You seen them over here?”

The man’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “What’s this all about?”

“Spivey and Miles went to ground after James Brown was killed. I need to talk to them about their friend. Will you help me, Remy?”

Remy pointed to Wyatt. “Who’s this?”

“An arson investigator from Atlanta. I vouch for him.”

“He’s one of us?”

“He is.”

Wyatt felt Remy’s questioning gaze all the way through to his bones. With a shrug of his shoulders, Remy gestured toward a shack in the woods. “They’ve been here for days now. ’Bout to drive me crazy.”

“How’d they end up at your place?” Laurie Ann asked.

“Someone gave them a ride to the island in the dead of night. I found ’em in the mud on one of my patrols, and they begged me to keep ’em hidden. Said somebody wanted ’em dead.”

Laurie Ann swallowed loudly. “Someone does. Lester. He tried to kill me, too. Have you seen him?”

“Haven’t seen the man. But he’s been on my watch list for years. Always knew he was turned wrong.”

“You were right about someone on the mainland having bad mojo. I wish I’d talked to you six months ago about the trouble you saw coming. I might have been better prepared.”

“Don’t worry about it. Folks been doubting me ever since I came here.”

“Not me or my dad. I should have trusted you about Lester.”

Remy didn’t seem to be a threat. More like someone with a wartime stress disorder. Given the guy’s advanced age, the war could have been any of those in the last thirty years. Regardless, given his need to patrol and blend into the foliage, Remy was wired differently, but he seemed to care about Laurie Ann. That was good enough for now.

Birds sang in the thick canopy of oak trees. There was a fresh sea breeze. Not a trace of smoke in the air. So why did he feel on edge? Was it the Glock pressing against his spine? Was it Laurie Ann’s certainty that Lester would catch up with them?

“Come on then,” Remy said. “Don’t stand out here in the open, drawing attention. Let’s get you folks inside before trouble comes along. No point in helping the enemy.”

Remy turned, his dogs pivoting with him. The man might be off his rocker talking about bad mojo, but he could make a fortune training dogs.

“I figured they had to be over here,” Laurie Ann whispered to him.

“You were right.”

“Gut instinct.” Pride rang in her voice. “I missed the boat on Lester, but I’m not washed up yet.”

Remy stopped short and raised his hand. Laurie Ann and Wyatt halted. The dogs’ ears went up, their noses at full quiver. Wyatt’s breathing sounded loud in his ears. He strained to hear, but he heard nothing and smelled nothing.

Remy lowered his hand, and the group proceeded to a vine-covered log cabin. Should he stay outside since he was muddy? Laurie Ann strode up the steps and into the place without breaking stride, shotgun held high. He followed.

Inside the dimly lighted space, two thin Caucasian men played cards. Poker from the looks of things. They stood, hands held high.

“I’ve been looking all over for you guys,” Laurie Ann said.

“We didn’t want to be found. Not by the law. Not by nobody.” The trembling man who answered was missing his two front teeth. He wore faded jeans and a tan shirt. Curly hair fringed his ears, where it flourished in wild abandon, giving him a clown-like appearance.

“I know about Lester, Ray,” Laurie Ann said in a soothing tone. “But I need to know what you know.”

“You won’t haul us in?”

That shaky question came from the man in a torn gray T-shirt. If the other man was Ray Spivey, this one was Frankie Miles. His voice sounded like someone had poured glass shards down his throat at one point. Like his companion, he also wore old jeans, and his feet were bare.

“You help me, and I won’t haul you in today. You’re probably safer here with Remy and the dogs anyway.”

The men exchanged a glance and lowered their hands.