Temptation Bay (A Windfall Island Novel) (8 page)

“Eat up,” Helen said in her usual tone, which could only be described as the equivalent of vocal steel wool. But when Maggie looked up she saw sympathy in Helen’s eyes, felt it in the hand she laid briefly on Maggie’s arm. “Don’t want people thinking there’s something wrong with the fare.”

Maggie took another bite, let the simple task and the amazing food nudge her back into the normal again.

“So what’s the story on that guy you brought in?”

“Lawyer,” Maggie said, “Staying at the Horizon.”

“Ha. That might work on the rest of the Bozos on this island.”

“But you’re different?”

“Just answer the question. In great detail. Quote him if you can.”

Maggie lifted both hands to make air quotes.

“Cute.” Helen reached for her plate, slid it a few inches away. “Talk, or the meatloaf gets it.”

Maggie dragged her plate back. “Nothing to tell.”

“Are you—Is she—” Helen turned to AJ.

“Yeah,” he said, just as disgusted. “She’s actually claiming she doesn’t know anything about the guy she just needled in front of God and everyone.”

“He’s staying here. How come you haven’t squeezed out his life story by now?”

“He makes himself pretty scarce,” AJ said. “Up and out early, wandering the village. He asks a lot of questions, but he hasn’t met with anyone in particular.”

Maggie bumped up a shoulder. “He’s working for an outsider.”

“Came to the same conclusion. You’re running the floor tonight, Helen; go find out why he’s here.”

Helen stabbed AJ with a look. “I could barely get near him long enough to snag his order.” She gestured to his table and the constantly changing crowd around it.

Maggie glanced over her shoulder. Couldn’t resist. Trudie was gone, but a couple of the other island hotpants had pulled up chairs, as close to Keegan’s as humanly possible.

His gaze shifted, pinned her.

She felt it all the way to her toes before she looked away.

“Every woman in town has hit on him in the last three days,” Helen said.

“And every man is pissed off about it,” AJ put in. “Somebody should warn him.”

“Already did,” Maggie said.

“Now, that’s going to take some explaining.”

“All you have to do is look at him. That face, that body. Factor in the predilections of some of the local female population, the inevitable reaction of the men, and bingo. Cause and effect.”

Helen put on a sad expression, shook her head. “Cause and effect.”

“Poor slob,” AJ said. “He really can’t help it.”

“Nope.” Maggie took another bite of meatloaf, feeling almost cheerful.

“Nice of you to warn him, though.”

“Wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

“Or nearly as entertaining.” AJ shifted, gave Helen a baleful look when she started to primp. “He’s coming over.”

“Probably going to pay his bill,” Maggie said.

“Way he’s looking at you, settling up ain’t on his mind,” Helen observed blandly, “Unless you did something to piss him off.”

“Something?” Maggie said, “Hell, I did everything I could.”

I
f Dex hadn’t already realized just how much of a challenge he was facing, five minutes in the Horizon’s big, overcrowded dining room/bar would have given him a pretty good idea. The citizens of Windfall Island spent a lot of time picking his brain, and not so much answering the questions he sent back at them.

While he would have preferred an out-of-the-way seat that put his back to the wall, he’d gone along gracefully when he’d been guided instead to a table in the center of the room. Put on display. That made his job a little harder, since he could only see half the room without playing musical chairs, which might have seemed a little odd. A little odd, it turned out, was as close to normal as it got on Windfall Island.

There was the couple who were channeling Antony and Cleopatra, a guy who wanted to check Dex’s DNA for alien nucleotides, an elderly woman who spoke without using the letter E, and Maisie Cutshaw, the owner of the island’s gift shop, who turned out to be part comic relief and part cringe factor. Maisie believed in being her own best advertisement and that meant wearing as much of her merchandise as she could drape on her pear-shaped frame, including a baggy,
faded sweatshirt sporting a picture of a half-sunk schooner and a caption that read,
Nothing Ventured, Nothing Salvaged
.

And it wasn’t just about history with Maisie. Apparently she’d made that her personal motto. “I guess I should have kept my appointment at the Clipper Snip last week,” she said, pushing at her frizzy blond hair.

“I can’t imagine why you’d need to.”

“Well, aren’t you the smooth one.”

Dex smiled affably. He could do affable, when it suited his purposes.

Maisie dropped into a chair, leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “How about I buy you a drink, Mr. Keegan.”

“Dex.”

“Dex.” She smiled dreamily. “Let’s get that drink, and then we can talk. For starters.”

Dex picked up his half-empty beer, tipped it in her direction. “All set,” he said, “But not all talked out.” It was a great theory, too, but by the time he’d nursed himself through the rest of his beer, Maisie had shown herself to have a one-track mind. And he was the train riding that track.

As things went, though, Maisie was tame. Maggie had been right about the female half of the population.
Gentler sex, hell
, he thought. He’d gotten some propositions that made him blush, and there’d been one or two women he’d be afraid to meet in a dark alley. And it wasn’t their looks that scared him; it was their appetites.

The good news? His popularity had given him the opportunity to observe the natives and draw conclusions about who might be able to help him on his search. The bad news was, he didn’t hold out much hope of getting a straight story from any of the people he’d met so far. And then Maggie had walked in and he didn’t care anymore.

It took a while, but Dex extricated himself from the latest group of islanders hounding him for information, and made a beeline for the bar. He didn’t bother to wander or make it look like he got there by happenstance. He headed directly for Maggie, taking the stool next to hers.

She pretended not to notice.

“I thought maybe you came in to see me,” he said.

“That’s what you get for thinking,” she said between bites.

She ate with a single-mindedness that made him grin. “Food’s good.”

“So’s solitude.”

She angled away from him, taking her plate with her and turning her attention to the small television perched in a corner behind the bar. Using it as a distraction, Dex figured. He would’ve bet she wasn’t much of a watcher. Maggie Solomon lived her life; she didn’t spectate others’.

She dropped her head to concentrate on her meal, then whipped it up again to stare at a local news report, the picture flipping between a perky blond reporter and Admiral Phillip Ashworth Solomon. She cocked her head, but unless she had the ears of an elephant, she’d only be able to pick up a word here and there over the din in the Horizon’s big barroom. He saw the frustration on her face, the way her hand fisted.

“Maggie.”

AJ’s voice didn’t carry far, but it got her attention. She looked up at him, then glanced at Dex, embarrassment putting some of the color back in her cheeks that misery, the misery he saw in her eyes, had leached out.

“Got a blueberry pie in the back,” AJ said. “Fresh baked this morning.”

Maggie pushed her plate away. “I think I’ve had enough.”

AJ cleared the bar in front of her, giving her hand a quick squeeze before he took her dishes to the pass-through and went off to handle business at the other end of the bar.

“So,” Dex said. “Where have you been hiding the last couple of days?”

She snorted softly. “Just because you didn’t see me doesn’t mean I was hiding. I had work.”

Strike one
. “It’s just a figure of speech, Maggie, like… out of sight, out of mind.”

“Yeah, that’s one of my favorites. If you take the first part literally, I can handle the second.”

Strike Two
. “I only have one more question. Where did your sense of humor go? I could have sworn you had one the day we met.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, sighing heavily. But in the slight smile that followed he could see the ball sailing out of the park. “It’s been… an interesting couple of days.”

“At least it’s not my fault this time.”

“Leave now, and you’ll be going out on a high.”

“Still trying to get rid of me? I wonder why?”

“There’s that curiosity again. You a lawyer or a private eye?”

His heart started to hammer, but his voice stayed even, thank God. “There’s a little bit of PI in all lawyers, at least the good ones.”

“And you’re good?” She turned to face him, frowning a little. “Just what are you doing on Windfall? You haven’t met with anyone.”

“I’ve only been here a few days.”

Maggie sat back a little, studied him long enough for him to think,
Damn, why’d I ever want her to be curious?

“It occurs to me that if I hired a heavy hitter from the mainland,” Maggie said slowly, working it out in her mind
as she went along, “I’d make sure to be handy when he showed up. Wouldn’t want him racking up billable hours alone in a hotel room and harassing innocent women…”

She turned her head slowly, until she was staring into his eyes. “Is he why you’re here? My father?”

“No. But you don’t believe me.”

“You have to admit the timing is pretty convenient.”

“Coincidental is the word I’d use,” Dex said, hating that he sounded defensive. “I didn’t even know Admiral Solomon was your father until the other day. And you still don’t believe me.”

“Give me a reason to.”

The only way to convince her was to tell her the truth. Which was the absolute last thing he could do. At least not his truth. “Trust me, somebody in Washington already did their due diligence where you’re concerned. If they hadn’t come up empty, your old man wouldn’t get anywhere near the short list for the Joint Chiefs.”

“If I’d known that I would have stashed a skeleton or two.”

“You don’t have secrets, Maggie. I knew that five seconds after I met you. You’re too direct.”

“He’d think me too boring and unimaginative.”

“Then he’s an idiot.”

She gave him a long, measuring look, one that had him reigning himself in.

“My being here has nothing to do with your father,” he assured her, “Or you.”

“Maybe not directly, but this is my home. I know everyone here, and I like most of them. Whatever your purpose, it involves me.”

And as long as he withheld the truth, there’d be no convincing her. But he could wear her down. “Have dinner with me.”

That got a smile out of her, if only a slight one. “Too late.”

“Tomorrow.”

“No.”

Dex heaved a sigh, heavy on the theatrics. “I’m tired of eating alone.”

“Didn’t appear to me you were eating alone.”

“You know what I mean. A nice meal with just one person, maybe some polite conversation—or as polite as you get. And after dinner—”

“No. Absolutely no.”

And now who’s defensive
, Dex thought, suppressing a grin. “You could at least let me hope.”

“I can do better than that.”

His heart picked up speed, God help him, and it wasn’t all about the job.

Then she turned and faced the room, lifting her voice above the noise level. “Mr. Keegan is in the market for a dinner date.”

There was a humming five seconds of absolute silence. Even the juke box was between songs. Then a lone female voice called out from the depths of the gloomy room. “I’ll buy him dinner, as long as he takes care of dessert.”

The rest of the crowd erupted, cat calls and downright graphic suggestions from the women, laughter from most of the men, with one or two half-hearted threats tossed in for good measure. At least Dex hoped they were half-hearted.

But it wasn’t the men who worried him.

Jessi came through the door, sidling around a pair of women who’d jumped to their feet, escalating from name-calling to hair pulling.

“What’s with the riot?” she asked when she made it to the bar and stopped by Maggie’s stool.

“Dex is looking for a date.”

“Which Maggie announced to the entire room.”

Jessi smiled hugely. “I’m available,” she said, “and I have a babysitter.”

“If you try to take him up those stairs, Jess, you’re going to have a fight on your hands.”

“Oh?” Jessi winked at Dex. “You going to try to kick my ass, Maggie?”

That had Maggie grinning. But the expression before that, the split second of panic and anger, told Dex a hell of a lot.

Maggie was attracted to him, and she didn’t like it. The attraction was mutual—attraction, hell. That was too mild a word, and if he could feel this depth of want in so short a time…

Dex glanced over at her, let out the breath he realized he was holding. The last thing he needed was to complicate an already complicated situation. He might have reassured her of that, if he didn’t know for certain she’d take it the wrong way. What he told himself was that he’d do his damnedest to keep any interactions he had with her on a professional level.

But God help them both if that cold shoulder she gave him ever thawed out.

“Well,” Maggie began, sliding off her stool, “I have an early charter—”

“Not so fast.” Jessi grabbed her by the wrist, began towing her toward an empty booth in the back. “What were you two talking about? I won’t breathe a word, I swear, but I have to know.”

Maggie smiled a little, because it was Jessi, but a smile was all she was willing to give away. “None of your business.”

Jessi’s mouth opened and closed. “I—You—” Her bottom lip poked out. “Mean.”

“Trudie Bingham accused me of that very thing, with that very same pout on her face.”

Jessi sucked her lip back in, her green eyes narrowing.

“Wow,” Maggie said, “something finally made you speechless.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m not letting you get away with this.” She took a firmer grip, but Maggie just planted her feet.

“All you have to do is ask, Jess.”

“Oh. Okay. Want to get a drink?”

“Not really.”

“Pretty please, pretty, pretty please? With sugar on top?”

“Who let you out on a school night? And how much caffeine have you had?”

“Ha. I let myself out so I could get in on the fun. New man on the island, and it’s Friday night. No school tomorrow, but I figured all the crazies would be here.”

“And?”

“I’ve let you stew for long enough. And don’t tell me you’re not stewing. I know how your father twists you up.”

“And you raced over here to keep me from tossing myself off the nearest dock into the icy embrace of the Atlantic?”

“Actually I was afraid you’d toss Dex off the nearest dock into the icy embrace of the Atlantic.”

“He’s too heavy to lift. He’d probably fight, too.”

“And you’d probably enjoy it, if you let yourself relax a little.”

Maggie chose to ignore that. “I threw him to the she-wolves instead.”

They both turned around to enjoy the show, which seemed to be winding down, compliments of local law enforcement. George Boatwright, Sheriff of Windfall Island, stood
between two spitting, screeching women, and was eyeing a third who looked like she might jump into the fray.

“Aw,” Jessi said, “who had to ruin it by bringing in the cops?”

“Helen probably didn’t want the place destroyed.”

“Well, she’s no fun at all.”

Dex agreed, Maggie decided. He was still where they’d left him, facing the room, elbows lounging on the bar and a wide smile on his face. She was tempted to trip George and see what happened when the winner of the catfight claimed her prize.