Protector, Lover...Husband?: In the Dark / Sure Bet / Deadly Exposure. Heather Graham

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Protector, Lover...Husband?: In the Dark / Sure Bet / Deadly Exposure - Heather Graham


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      “Dream on. I don’t know what this absurd obsession with me is, but do you really think you’re going to scare me into letting you back in my bed?”

      “Only if you insist, and if it will make you feel better.”

      In that moment she hated him with a sudden intensity, because she had been so secure, so ready to explore a relationship with another man, and now…

      David had played on her mental processes. She knew he could make her feel secure…that his flesh against her own could feel irresistibly erotic, compelling…She wanted to curl against him, close her eyes, rest, imagine.

      “You’ve got some explaining to do, too,” he informed her. Suddenly his eyes reminded her of a predatory cat.

      She stiffened. “I have to explain something to you?”

      “About Danny Fuller.”

      “Danny Fuller?”

      They both fell silent.

      As more people filed outside, those waiting to be questioned began to shift around. Alex saw her opportunity and rose, placing as much distance as she could between herself and David.

      And then, with nothing else to do, she found herself pacing the room. Danny Fuller? What the hell was he talking about?

      She was idly walking in front of one of the long benches when she nearly collided with Jay. He caught hold of her shoulders to steady her, then sighed, turned and took a seat on the bench right behind him.

      She gazed at him where he sat. His hands were steepled prayer fashion in front of him, and he was looking upward. “Thank you, God,” he barely whispered. “Thank you for making this happen here and not on Moon Bay.”

      “Jay!” she gasped, horrified.

      He looked up at her and flushed. “Well, he was a mean old bastard, and he’d lived out most of his life,” Jay protested. “He liked to drink way too hard, and never believed the sea could be stronger than he was. Well, you can’t turn up your nose and think you’re better than the Atlantic.”

      “This is still horrible.”

      “Yeah, I’m sure all his ex-wives are going to be crying real hard,” Jay murmured.

      She started to say something, then fell quiet. Without her noticing, the room had been emptying out.

      It was just her and Jay left to speak with the sheriff, and Nigel was coming toward them.

      “Well, it’s a miracle, but no one in this place saw Seth Granger walk out. No one. Not the bartender, not a single waiter, waitress, busboy, cook or floor scrubber, none of the locals, and certainly none of your guests from Moon Bay.”

      “Nigel, the guy was drunk,” Jay said wearily.

      Nigel shook his head. “Seth Granger was always drinking, from what I’ve heard. Strange that he would just walk into the water, though. Stranger still that no one saw him do it. Never mind.” He pointed a finger at Alex. “I want to talk to you at some length. Tomorrow. Got it?”

      “Me?”

      “Two days, two bodies,” Nigel said.

      “But…you told me there was no second body. Or first body. Other body.”

      “Alex, I already told you, I did all the checking I could—and I sent men out to walk the grounds. You know I didn’t discount your story entirely. Anyway, we’ll talk. I’ll be out to see you tomorrow. For now…well, I’ve got some crime-scene people taking a look around here. At this point, it looks as if Seth got a bit too tipsy, took a walk, met the water and then his maker. There’s going to have to be a hearing, though, and an autopsy. The medical examiner will have to verify that scenario.”

      Jay nodded glumly. “Still,” he murmured, “at least it happened here, not at Moon Bay.” The other two looked at him. “Hey, I’m sorry, but it matters.”

      “Well, take your guests home, Jay,” Thompson said. “You.” He pointed at Alex. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      “Sure,” she murmured.

      They left, bidding Warren goodbye. Alex hoped the restaurant wouldn’t end up paying for Seth’s alcohol consumption. She knew Warren usually watched his customers and had been known to confiscate keys from any driver he thought shouldn’t be on the road. His staff was equally vigilant.

      From what she had seen, there had been a pitcher of beer on the table. Seth had probably been downing pitcher after pitcher himself, but the waitress had undoubtedly assumed the beer was being consumed by a party of five.

      As they walked along the deck toward the boat, Jay stopped Alex. “I’ll go back on the dive boat,” he told her. “Damage control,” he said with a wince.

      “There’s room for us both,” she said.

      “Take a break. Go back on the Icarus,” he said. “That’s okay with you, right, David?” Jay asked, turning slightly.

      She hadn’t realized that her ex—or not quite ex—husband had been right behind them. “Sure,” he said.

      Great. A ride back with David, John Seymore and Hank Adamson.

      Still, she didn’t want to make a draining evening any worse, so she shrugged. At least the ride wouldn’t take long.

      Along with a sympathetic smile, John Seymore offered her a hand down into the little dinghy that would take them back to the Icarus. She wound up sitting next to Hank Adamson, while David and John had the oars. Once again, it was John who gave her a hand on board the Icarus, but once there, she hurried aft, hoping to make the journey back alone.

      No luck.

      She had barely settled down on the deck, choosing a spot she had often chosen in years past, when David joined her.

      She groaned aloud. “Don’t you ever go away?”

      “I can’t. Not now.”

      She stared at him. “You know, I’m trying to have a relationship with someone else.”

      “I don’t know about him yet.”

      “What don’t you know about him?”

      He looked at her, blue eyes coolly touching hers. “I don’t know if he’s in on what’s going on or not.”

      She groaned again. “David, he hasn’t been out of the military that long. He’s from the West Coast. He’s not into salvage.”

      “He’s into things connected with the sea, that’s for certain.”

      “So?”

      “So I still don’t know about him.”

      “How about letting me make a few judgments on my own?”

      “Did you see a corpse on the beach or not?” he demanded.

      She looked away, silently damning him. “Yes.”

      “And are we absolutely positive that Seth Granger just got up, left a bar, fell into the water and drowned?”

      “No,” she admitted after a moment. “But it’s the most likely scenario.”

      “‘Most likely’ doesn’t make it fact,” he said flatly. “The body that you found—and yes, I’m convinced you found a body—was Alicia’s. I’m certain of it.”

      “How do you know that?” she demanded, but then she knew. One of his best friends, Dane Whitelaw, worked in Key Largo, leading his version of an ideal life, running a dive service and an investigations business. “Never mind. You’ve had Dane looking into it.”

      “Yup.”

      “So do you understand now?”

      “Understand


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