Hurricane Bay (24 page)

“Part of me feels badly,” Nate said. “He's such a loser, I'll just be adding to the degradation that is his life. But then again, he's a scary piece of scum, so, yeah, I'll press charges. Though I guess the state is already doing that. I don't know that much about the law.”

“I believe you'll have to press charges,” Dane said.

“It's hot as hell out here. Let's go in,” Cindy said.

Dane shook his head. “I'm going over to the jail. I want to see if Gary Hansen will let me talk to Latham,” he said. “You're all going to hang out together today, right?” He stared meaningfully at Kelsey.

Nate and Larry each slipped an arm around her. “We won't let her out of our sight,” Nate said possessively.

Kelsey frowned, looking at Dane. She had thought that he would stick around. That she would have time to talk to him.

She wanted to kick herself. They'd had so much time together and she hadn't said anything. And now she suddenly wanted to spill everything. She wanted to tell him what she'd seen on Izzy Garcia's boat. She wanted to give him the phone numbers she'd stolen and let him try to figure out why Izzy had them.

She wanted to tell him that Sheila had kept a diary, and that she was ready to quit running around, questioning people, until she had read the entire thing.

“We'll take good care of our Kels,” Larry said.

She was between them, finding their joint embrace kind of sweet, but when Dane started toward the Jeep, she pulled away.

“Wait just one second,” she said, running after him.

Seated in the Jeep, he looked up at her with weary exasperation. “Kelsey—”

“Shut up and listen. I…yesterday, on Izzy's boat…I prowled around a little before you, er…arrived. I found Sheila's purse in the storage compartment beneath the seat, port side. And I took these….” She dug quickly in her own bag, producing the list of phone numbers. “These numbers were programmed into his cell.”

He stared at her incredulously. “You're giving these to me…
now?
” he said.

She stared back at him. “Better late than never—isn't that what they say?”

She heard his teeth grate. “Yeah, I guess it is. You've got my cell number, Kelsey. Anything, anything at all…get hold of me right away.”

“All right.”

“
Anything,
Kelsey.”

“I'm not an idiot, Dane.”

His expression told her that she had done little to prove it, but he didn't say anything else, just gunned the motor of the Jeep and pulled out onto the road.

“You know what we should do?”

Cindy was behind her, her voice as cheerful as ever.

“What should we do?”

“Just take off. Get in a boat, take off for a few hours. We can dive, snorkel, fish. Get away. Just us. The old guard.”

“Cindy, there are things…”

“We're all worried sick about Sheila, Kelsey.”

She nodded. Of course. “I'm really tired, too.”

“So are we because last night we were up late worrying about you.”

“I told Larry I was okay, that I was with Dane.”

“You know us…we stayed up anyway. C'mon, let's take off. It
is
Sunday, you know.”

“You want to go to church?”

“The next best thing. Let's head out to the reef and the Christ statue. Say a little prayer under water. Kelsey, we have to quit driving ourselves crazy.”

Larry had come up to them. “There's an idea. Come on, Kels. Let's do something.”

“Whose boat?”

“Nate has his down at the same marina where Izzy and Jorge keep their charter boats. He has plenty of gear on board for all of us. We'll just do a day trip.”

Kelsey thought quickly. She wanted to read the diary, but she could take it with her. If she stayed at the duplex, she would just read and pace, read and pace.

Maybe they were right.

“All right. If that's what you all want to do. I need a few minutes to grab a few things.”

“Me, too,” Cindy said.

“What? What's up?” Nate asked.

“You're taking us out for a spin,” Larry told him.

“A spin?” Nate said.

“On your boat,” Cindy told him.

He threw up his hands. “What the hell.”

Kelsey walked past him into the house. She went to her bedroom, digging into the suitcase she hadn't really unpacked for a bathing suit, shorts, T-shirt and cover-up. She had started for the bed to grab the diary from beneath her pillow when a strange sensation told her that she wasn't alone. She held still, looking around the room. Again she realized that things were just slightly out of order.

She turned to the door of her bedroom. Nate was standing there, good eye soulful.

“Sorry, Kels. I didn't mean to disturb your privacy. It was a long night. You know, after Latham slugged me and the cops came and I spent hours with ice on my face, worrying about the fact that you hadn't come home and that you were calling from some club…and that…well, that you were with Dane.”

“You shouldn't have been worried if you knew I was with Dane.”

He shrugged. “Okay, maybe I was jealous.”

“Jealous? Nate, after all this time? I thought we were friends, good friends.”

“We are, Kelsey. It's just that I still get one of those macho, possessive things going on now and then. Oh, nothing serious. I'm over it. Really. Hell, I like Dane. And I guess we all saw something there all those years ago when you…well, when you didn't know it.”

She just stared at him, brows raised.

He lowered his head. “Anyway, I started looking around. I wasn't digging into your things, honestly. But Sheila had mentioned something to me once about keeping a diary. I thought I'd look around for it.”

“Did you find it?” Kelsey asked cautiously.

He shook his head. “But I didn't want you to think you were crazy, and I didn't want to lie to a friend. I was looking around in here last night. Or this morning. Whenever the hell it was.”

She nodded, still watching him speculatively. He appeared so sheepish that she decided not to yell or lecture.

Larry suddenly appeared behind Nate. “Are you two ready?”

“Just a second,” Kelsey said. “Would the two of you get out of here? For just a minute?”

“Oh, sorry.” Larry turned and walked away. Nate followed and closed the door softly in his wake.

She walked quickly to the bed and found the diary, then stuffed it into the canvas bag she was bringing for their day at sea.

 

“He's gone. Out? Free?”

Dane was incredulous as he stared at Gary Hansen.

Hansen, seated at his desk, stared back at Dane, shaking his head. “What the hell did you think I could do? A drunk punched a guy in the face. The drunk had an attorney. I don't make the laws, I uphold them. And besides, Dane, Andy Latham may not be a popular man around here, but hell, what can you do? He got drunk and punched Nate. You can't execute the guy for that.”

Dane exhaled a long breath.

Hansen's eyes narrowed. “What's with you?”

“What's with me? Gary, his stepdaughter is missing and we've had dead women popping up in the water.”

“Dane, there's still nothing to say that Sheila Warren won't come back anytime. She could come sashaying in any day now, be incredulous that we had the gall to want to know where she was and with who.”

“And there's nothing to say that she will,” Dane said flatly.

Gary leaned forward. “Dane, you find a reason for me to keep Andy Latham in here and I'll be happy to oblige. Like I said, I don't make the laws, I uphold them. And I can promise you, I'm not the only lawman in the country sick to my stomach at the ability of fancy lawyers to let criminals walk. But as it goes right now, Andy Latham is walking free. Legally.”

“How about you keep an eye on him, then?”

“We're trying to do just that. But you know what? We have to cover a hell of a lot of people and a hell of a lot of area. You keep an eye on him, too, if you're so damned convinced he's dangerous.”

“He's proven he's dangerous.”

“By punching a guy in a bar?” Gary shook his head in weary disgust. “Dane, do you know how many men we'd have to keep under permanent lock and key if that were a crime punishable by years of incarceration?”

“Sorry, Gary. Sorry.”

“Get me something. I'd love to see him put away.”

Dane left the sheriff's office and drove out to Latham's place. The guy wasn't there. His truck wasn't parked in the driveway.

He tried a few of the local hangouts but could find no sight of his quarry.

Dane stopped at a local donut shop for more coffee, gazing over the list of numbers Kelsey had given him. Why the hell had she taken so long to tell him about Sheila's purse being on Izzy's boat—and about the numbers? He felt a chill along his spine, knowing that Izzy had been keeping tabs on all his old acquaintances.

Coffee in hand, he headed out for the docks and Izzy Garcia.

His cell phone rang. He picked it up quickly.

“Dane, it's Kelsey. What happened with Latham?”

“Nothing. They'd already let him out.”

“They let him out?”

“Yeah, yeah, he's out. Where are you? What are you doing? Your voice is fading in and out.”

“Oh, we decided to spend the day out on the water. Cindy thinks it will be good for all of us.”

“Out on the water?” He wasn't sure why that disturbed him.

“Yeah. Don't worry. We've taken Nate's boat. It's just Larry, Nate, Cindy—and oh! We ran into Jorge at the docks, and his captains are taking out all his charters, so he decided to tag along, too. We're going to do the tourist thing, go to the Christ statue, see the tropical fish. You know, all that stuff. We'll come back in around—”

The phone went dead in his hands. He clenched his teeth, telling himself that she had just gotten out of satellite range somehow. He dialed her back. A taped voice told him that Kelsey Cunningham wasn't available and to please leave a message. With an oath, he tossed his phone down.

He was already heading to the marina.

But when he arrived, Izzy's boat was gone. Naturally. Charter time.

He stared at the dock impotently, thought of all the things he could do to make wise use of his time, then turned and walked to his car.

Screw it.

Something was bothering him. Something he couldn't fathom.

When he got back to Hurricane Bay, he didn't even go in the house. He headed straight for his boat.

K
elsey lay on the deck. The sun was brilliant, a fantastic orb in an unbelievably blue sky. Larry had mentioned that the National Weather Service was still talking about a storm, but according to the forecast, the tropical depression now being called Hannah was heading toward the Carolinas. Kelsey still thought the sky was beautiful in the way it often was just days before the wind really ripped and the rain came in a deluge.

Lack of sleep had meant they were all fairly exhausted when they started out, but Cindy had been right. Being out on the sea was great. They had chosen to visit a few of the popular reefs around John Pennecamp Coral Reef State Park. The underwater park was protected, so there was an abundance of fish for them to look at. They started off north of French Reef, diving down to the wreck of the
Benwood.
The
Benwood
had been hit by a torpedo during World War II, then, while trying to get home, hit hard by another ship. Now she hosted a wealth of undersea wildlife. Beneath the surface, Nate pointed out a big grouper and mouthed a name. Old Henry. She hadn't seen him before. Sometime during the last few years he must have realized with his little fish brain that Pennecamp was a good place to live.

They stopped at Key Largo Dry Rocks, as Cindy had suggested, and went down to the Christ of the Deep Statue, a copy of the Christ of the Abyss Statue in the Mediterranean Sea just off Genoa. It had been a gift from an Italian industrialist. It was a beautiful statue, about twenty feet beneath the surface, arms upraised, face sculpted with peace and serenity.

After waiting for the tourists from the hired dive boats to leave, they all paused around it. Cindy folded her hands in prayer and they all followed suit. A while later they rose, and Nate suggested that they leave the park behind and do some fishing in legal waters. They hadn't made any plans for a restaurant for dinner that night, so a good catch of fresh snapper, dolphin fish or grouper would be good.

After just having met Old Henry, Kelsey was more in the mood for dolphin than grouper. Lying on the deck, feeling the air and the sun, she gave half her attention to the discussion going on between Larry, Nate and Jorge.

Jorge said that since they didn't seem to be catching anything from the boat, they should think about doing a little spearfishing.

Kelsey glanced at Cindy, who was lying on a towel near her. She appeared to be sleeping.

Kelsey had almost dozed a few times herself, but she had brought Sheila's diary topside with her to read as she lay in the sun. So far, she wasn't getting anywhere. Sheila had written about the men she met, but there were too many of them to keep track of. Plus she often used initials that meant nothing to Kelsey. So far, especially since she had sheathed the diary in a plastic book saver, no one had asked her what she was reading. She often had a book or a sketch pad with her, and she loved reading, just as Cindy loathed it, so apparently no one thought it worth bothering to ask about.

Just as she had very nearly dozed off again, she came to a section that alerted her.

Saw the asshole my mother married again yesterday. Had to see him to go to the bank. He was all dressed up. Told me he was enjoying a new nightlife and meeting lots of women, real women. They found him appealing.

I don't care what he says. He can take a bath and pour on a liter of cologne, but he'll still smell like rotten fish. He always did. I told him so, too. Maybe that's why I left the Keys before. I can't stand the smell of rotten fish. Always reminds me of him. Reminds me of being a kid. Reminds me of the things he made me do.

I don't want to remember.

Despite the heat of the sun, Kelsey felt cold. She closed the diary, biting her lip as she stared up at the sky. She should have known. She had been naive all her life. Sheila hadn't really spelled it out, and neither had Izzy, but suddenly she knew the truth.

Andy Latham had molested Sheila when she had been a child. And if the things Izzy had said were true, he had done it with—if not her mother's consent—at least her mother's knowledge.

Poor Sheila! What a rotten life. And now…

Out of the blue, tears stung her eyes. Maybe just because she was so tired.

And maybe because she knew, just knew, that Sheila was dead. They could pray at the Christ Statue all day, and all they could hope to achieve for Sheila was peace.

She closed her eyes. For a moment she almost felt sick to her stomach. Then she was outraged. When Sheila had become an adult, she should have brought charges against her stepfather.

She pushed herself up on her arms, suddenly needing to get into the water again. Rinse off, cool down—except that she had chills. Rinse off and warm up, then. The water was warm today, especially here in the shallows.

She started, realizing that Nate was sitting next to her. Cindy was gone and Nate was there.

“Hey.”

“Hey. You okay?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“Really, really worried, though, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“So am I.”

She watched him. He hugged his knees to his chest. “Sheila was really going off in a bad way. I tried to talk to her, but…” He hesitated, then stared at Kelsey. “I really did care about her. You know…” Again he hesitated. “Well, you heard Larry last night. I had my fling with Sheila, too.”

“Yeah, I heard Larry.”

“I always loved you best, though.”

“Nate, you know how much I care about you. I always will. But you don't have to apologize to me for sleeping with Sheila. We've been divorced for a very long time. And it was wrong to begin with, our getting married.”

He looked away for a moment, then back at her. “Why do you think we barely lasted a month? Was there…something the matter with me?”

“No!” Kelsey protested quickly. “Nate…it was me. I hurt you, and I had no right to. I didn't really want to be married. I was just so hurt when Joe died, and I felt that…that I needed to belong to someone who was…mine, I guess. There wasn't a thing wrong with you then or now. You're handsome, charming and dependable.”

He looked at the sky again, then lowered his head and his voice, as if someone might hear him. “Was I…”

“Were you what?”

“Okay in bed?” He sounded anxious.

“You were just fine,” she assured him.

He still looked uncertain. Then he made a funny face, wincing. “I don't think that's what Sheila would say. She made some comment that I think was out of a movie. That you needed a microscope and a tweezer to find anything if you wanted to have sex.”

Kelsey quickly lowered her head, determined to hide her smile. Leave it to Sheila.

“She was just being mean, Nate. You must know that. I mean…well, you made it through school, you were on the football team…you've been in locker rooms, and surely you've been with other women. You know what she said wasn't true.”

“Didn't do much for my ego, though.”

“I can imagine. But you know Sheila. She has a habit of striking below the belt. But…” She hesitated. “Nate, you know she was writing to me, calling me…and I've had a chance to read a few of the things she wrote in her diary. All these years, Sheila has been a bitch. She could be mean as a kid, but we all tolerated her. You know why?”

“We're a pack of fools? There weren't that many kids to hang around with?”

She shook her head. “I think Latham abused Sheila from the time she was a little kid. I'm pretty sure that's why she had no respect for sex whatsoever. And I think that, even when she cared about people, she hurt them. She was probably afraid to care too much about anyone. And if you use people, then they usually don't get a chance to use you in return.”

“You think it was that bad?”

“Nate, I don't really know anything. Sheila kept things hidden from all of us. But I think that growing up must have been horrible for her.”

“And then her mother died.”

“Yeah. And she loved her mother, but I think maybe she wasn't much better than Latham.”

“You mean her mother allowed whatever went on?”

“Maybe. Like I said, I don't really know anything. But I don't think you should let anything Sheila said upset you, or even give your ego the slightest scratch. Sometimes she just liked to strike out at people. I think she hurt you just because…it's better to hurt someone than to be hurt by them.”

He squinted, looking up at the sun again.

“I could see it if we'd been headed for a monogamous situation or something like that. She just wound up being with me.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I think…I think she wanted Dane. But Dane had come back not wanting anybody. Of course, though they came back at nearly the same time, I think Sheila had been through half the lower Keys before he even came on the scene. And she knew about him…knew that his life hadn't been going real well. Do you think everybody has one great love in life, and even when it doesn't work, it's always there?”

“I don't know. But the world is full of people. And a lot of them are very nice.” She paused, frowning at him. “Nate…are you saying that Sheila was the great love in your life and she crushed you?”

He started to laugh. “Hell no. You were the great love in my life. And
you
crushed me.”

Kelsey felt the color flood her face. “Oh God, Nate, I am so sorry.”

“Hey, that was years ago. Don't go apologizing. You just gave me back my manhood. I'm grateful to hear from you that I didn't suck as a lover. And I hope you're not lying to make me feel better.”

“You didn't suck as a lover. I did.”

He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “All you had to do was be and you were great. But…”

“But?”

“You weren't really there. You were never really there. I thought…I thought there was someone else. Then you became a workaholic after we split up. You were never dating when I talked to you. Are you…”

“Am I what?”

“Nothing.”

“Am I
what?
”

“Gay?”

She felt her cheeks darken again. “No.”

“Hey, there's nothing wrong with it if you are.”

“I agree. But I'm not. And I do date. Just not often. You're right. I have been something of a workaholic.”

He leaned closer to her suddenly. “You know, girls, more than men, experiment.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When Larry made that comment that Sheila had slept with everyone at the table, he meant everyone—and he wasn't off by much. That is, if you're being honest.”

“I still don't get you.”

“I think Cindy and Sheila had a thing.”

“You think?”

“I do think so.”

“I don't think you should say things unless you know they're absolutely true,” Kelsey said. “And maybe not even then. If they did…experiment, as you say, it isn't our business.”

“Sure. Sorry.”

“Dammit, Nate, don't be sorry. I just think you should watch what you say.”

“Yeah, maybe. And I do believe Cindy is looking for the right guy, though the years are going by.”

“We're not living in the Civil War era. We don't become old maids at the age of seventeen or eighteen anymore,” she told him dryly.

“Right.” He shook his head. “Man, I'm sorry about Sheila. And I'm sorry as hell I let that asshole stepfather of hers get a fist on me! Wish I could have belted him back.”

“I'm glad you didn't. The fact that you restrained yourself probably makes it a clearer case of assault.”

Nate laughed. “Hell, it had nothing to do with restraint. He caught me by surprise and I fell flat. And by then…the cops seemed to be right behind him. I will prosecute, though. For Sheila. Because she was a friend…even if she did set out to humiliate me. At least…well, now I understand.”

He rose suddenly. “They're still talking about spearfishing. Are you coming?”

“Maybe I'll come in later.” She grimaced. “I never really liked spearfishing.”

“Oh, yeah. Big difference. Catch a fish on a hook and let it flop around and asphyxiate, or shoot it cleanly with a spear.”

“We can, you know, just order in a pizza,” Kelsey said.

“Where's your spirit of adventure, woman?” Nate asked. “We need to eat fish!”

“We can order anchovies on the pizza.”

He gave her a look of disgust. “We're going to have fresh fish. And if you don't catch any, you're going to get to clean them.”

“Maybe I'll join you guys. Give me a few minutes. And if all else fails, I will call for that pizza.”

He let out a sigh, still staring at her. “Good book?”