Twist of Fate (16 page)

“I wish I knew.” She was beginning to tremble. Shock, probably. Hannah wished Gideon would look a little less violent. “I just went for a swim. He came up behind me from underneath. I never saw him. Touched my leg. I thought at first it was you. And then I found myself trying to breathe water. Oh, God, Gideon, I've never been so terrified in my life.” No, that wasn't right, Hannah thought. There had been another few moments of fleeting terror the night of her auto accident. But those seconds of stark fear were vague and blurred in her mind. Today's events were frighteningly clear.

“He was trying to kill you.”

She shook her head in a ridiculous attempt at denial. Because, of course, that's exactly what the man in the wet suit had been trying to do. “Gideon, it doesn't make any sense.”

“He might have thought you were living in the house alone. Maybe he had some idea of getting rid of you and then robbing the place.”

“My aunt's house has been sitting empty for several months and there's been no robbery attempt. Why now?”

“Maybe the local police will have some theories.” Gideon released her face. He touched her, stroking her arms as if assuring himself that she was alive. “You're all right?”

“Yes, thanks to you. I may give up swimming for life, but I'm all right. Oh, my God, Gideon! I was so scared.” She reached out, hugging herself to his damp strength and burying her face against his chest.

“Easy, honey. Easy. It's okay. It's all right. You're fine now.” He cradled her, his voice softening as he smoothed her wet hair. “Jesus. You think you were scared. I am now the world's leading expert on panic.”

“How did you find me?” The trembling wouldn't stop. Hannah took several deep breaths, trying to control the involuntary spasms, but it didn't work.

“I woke up and realized you were gone. I figured you might have decided to take a swim. I was on my way down to the beach when I heard you scream. It was damn hard to see anything against the glare off the water. Fortunately you were making enough of a fuss that I finally spotted something going on there by the reef. Hannah, you little idiot, you should never have gone into the sea alone.”

“You do it almost every morning.”

“That's different.”

“Please don't yell at me, Gideon. Not now. Maybe later, okay?”

He leaned over her, holding her close. “All right. Later. God, honey, stop shaking.”

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can, damn it.”

She smiled blearily. “I'll bet you run Cage & Associates this way. Always giving orders.”

“It's the only way to run a company.”

“But I'll bet you don't do it naked like you are now very often.”

He muttered something into her wet hair. “You have a way of putting a new twist on a situation.” He began rubbing her back briskly as she nestled against him. “Feeling better?”

“Much.”

“How's the leg?”

“It hurts but I've put it into perspective. Compared to nearly being drowned, a sore knee is a minor inconvenience.”

“Think you're up to getting dressed and paying a visit to whatever passes for the law around here?”

“All right. But I don't think it's going to do much good. Gideon, all I saw was the face mask and the wet suit. I couldn't begin to identify that man.”

“We've got to report it.”

“I know.” She sniffed and pulled her head away from the comfort of his chest. “This sort of thing can really take the edge off a vacation, can't it?”

He looked at her oddly, a dark frown pulling his brows together, but he didn't respond to her comment. “Come on, Hannah. Let's get back to the house.”

 

T
HE ISLAND POLICE
were polite, took the matter with an appearance of seriousness but were ultimately totally unhelpful. They did have a theory, however.

“I don't believe it,” Hannah said fiercely as she climbed back into the jeep after the dismaying scene with the police. “That guy was trying to drown me, not rape me.”

Gideon's hands flexed on the wheel. He sat staring through the windshield, his eyes hooded and unreadable. The only thing Hannah could be sure of regarding his mood was that it was not a good one. It hadn't been good since he'd walked into the police station with her two hours earlier.

“I don't know, Hannah. The captain may have been right. It fit with those other two cases he told us about.”

Hannah shivered, remembering the discussion. In the past month there had been two rapes on Santa Inez. In each instance a female tourist swimming alone had been attacked by a man who had first weakened his victims by nearly drowning them. “But neither of those women said their attacker was wearing an air tank and a wet suit.”

“Damn it, I know that.” Gideon shoved the jeep into gear with controlled savagery and swung out onto the road.

The repressed ferocity in him was unsettling. Hannah didn't need any more violence this morning. She huddled down into her seat, staring bleakly at the passing scene. The low one-and two-story houses that flanked the small downtown area all had a certain similarity about them. No glass in the windows, only louvered shutters that were always open except during a storm. Small yards in which the frangipani, bougainvillea, and hibiscus ran wild. Appropriate for a life-style lived outdoors on the streets where one's neighbors were always willing to stop and gossip. Another world.

It was time to get back to her own world, Hannah decided. She glanced at Gideon's hard profile. “You nearly tore that poor police captain to shreds.”

“I was annoyed.”

“You're hell on wheels when you're annoyed.”

He ignored that. “The man had a point, Hannah. You shouldn't have gone swimming alone.”

“Not that again! You were the one who defended me to the captain, remember? You told him that was a private beach. Told him I had every right to swim there. As I recall you made quite an issue of his inability to control rapists on the island. You were on my side back there in the station. Chewed that poor guy up one side and down the other and then spit him out. Now you're buying his line?”

“You shouldn't have gone swimming alone.”

“Why not, for heaven's sake. That cottage and the beach in front of it belong to me! I'm getting annoyed now. I have my rights, Gideon. Why is it that whenever a woman is attacked, men take the attitude that she invited it?”

“I didn't say you invited it. But you've got to face facts, Hannah. You're a woman. When you're alone or isolated, you're vulnerable.”

“My aunt,” Hannah informed him in a too-level tone, “lived in that cottage for years. Alone. No one ever bothered her. It's not as if it's a high-crime neighborhood, Gideon. I've lived by myself in Seattle for years and have yet to be assaulted. And I'm sure Seattle's crime rate is considerably higher than this island's!”

“You don't know this island as well as you know Seattle.”

Hannah's head came around. “You know what the problem is here? You're angry with yourself because I was attacked this morning. You feel responsible somehow. And now you're unloading your anger on me.”

“I'm not in the mood for a psychological analysis of my motives. I'm trying to get something across. Something logical and loaded with common sense. Back home in Seattle you don't walk around alone downtown at night, right? Here, you're not to go swimming alone.”

Her own anger was having a bracing effect, Hannah discovered. It helped her shake off some of the bleak, shocked feeling she'd been enduring since this morning's disaster. “It's not necessary to yell at me. Believe me, I may never go swimming again in my life.”

Gideon finally seemed to realize that she was not in a meek frame of mind. His expression softened slightly. “Honey, I'm not yelling at you.”

“Is that right? What do you call it?”

He sighed. “Maybe I am. I haven't recovered from what happened this morning. I'm still cold inside. You're probably right. I'm short-tempered with you because I'm furious with myself.”

She relented. “It was hardly your fault, Gideon. You saved my life, remember?”

“Jesus. I'd sell my soul to get my hands on that guy in the wet suit.” Gideon made a visible effort to throw off his own foul mood. “I don't feel like going back to the cottage, do you?”

Hannah's anger was already fading, this time into a depressed acceptance of reality. “No.”

“We haven't driven completely around the island yet. This is a good day to do it.” He didn't wait for her agreement. He was already driving past the turnoff to Elizabeth Nord's cottage.

Fifteen minutes later, at the island's southern tip, he parked the jeep on a craggy bluff overlooking the sea and turned to face Hannah. The island's short, pleasantly warm morning was already giving way to the standard muggy afternoon. Overhead the first clouds were forming. A sailboat was rounding the island point, heading for the harbor. It was a peaceful, idyllic scene, a million miles removed from the violence that had shattered the image early that morning.

“Are you okay, Hannah?”

“I think so. I just feel a little strange.”

Gideon leaned back against the door, studying her with the brooding look that was becoming so familiar. “Not surprising.”

“I guess not.”

Gideon shifted his gaze to the sailboat, his left arm resting casually on the jeep's steering wheel. “I don't think the local police are ever going to find out who attacked you this morning.”

“I know. We'll be gone soon. Just a couple more tourists who lodged a complaint. As soon as we're off the island, they'll file it away in a very deep file cabinet. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“Maybe that's what's eating me,” Gideon said.

Hannah smiled fleetingly. “You're angry because there probably won't be any justice done?”

“That amuses you?”

“No,” she said slowly. “I'm not exactly thrilled with the idea either. But somehow you've always seemed such a law unto yourself. It must be hard to find yourself having to depend on the formal criminal justice system.”

“If there was any way in hell I could find out who did it myself, I would.”

Hannah believed him. “Don't let it get to you, Gideon. There is no way and we both know it. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”

He swore crudely. “It's not exactly a
sentiment
. I'm goddamned mad.”

“I think,” Hannah said quietly, “that the vacation is over.”

Gideon's eyes snapped back to her. “What are you talking about?”

“I think it's time to go home.”

“This is only the fourth day. We've got three more to go.” His voice sounded different. Tighter somehow. Strained.

“It's time to go home, Gideon.” Hannah was sure of it now. “Nothing will be the same here now. We both know it.”

“The hell it won't. The only difference is that I'm not letting you out of my sight for the next three days. Hannah, listen to me. I know you're frightened and upset. But I'll see to it you won't be alone again. You'll be safe.”

“But it won't be the same. No, Gideon, it's time to leave. Not just because of what happened this morning. You're getting restless. I knew that when I saw you buying that business magazine yesterday. We both know you're wondering what Ballantine is doing. Cage & Associates is your main concern in life. You can't afford another three days of being out of touch with it.”

His eyes narrowed. “I can afford anything I damn well please.”

She shook her head. “Maybe you can. I can't.”

“What's that supposed to mean? If you're running short of cash, stop worrying. I'll pick up the tab for this trip.”

Hannah's mouth curved wryly. “I'm not talking about money. The truth is that four days of you is about all I can afford.”

Gideon went still. The unnatural quietness in him was unnerving. “I didn't realize you had any major complaints.”

She flinched at the harshness in him. “No complaints, Gideon. You of all people should know that. It's got nothing to do with you. It's me.”

“You're upset because of what happened this morning.”

“It's more than that. I'm upset because of what's happening between us.”

“What the hell is wrong with what's happening between us?” he rasped.

“Gideon, don't you understand? I'm not built the way you are. You're willing to live in the present when it comes to relationships. You're content to let the future take care of itself when it comes to dealing with other people. Cage & Associates is the only thing with a future you care about. But I'm not like that. Just look at the way I keep trying to give you advice even though I know you have no intention of accepting it. Don't you realize why I go on doing it? It's because I do think in terms of futures. I worry about yours and I worry about my own. I told myself I could have this week out of time and not pay for it, but I was wrong. There's a price on everything. Four days of you is all I can afford. Another three days will cost too much. I won't go home with lots of memories to cherish; I'll go home bitter. I don't want that.”