Protector, Lover...Husband?. Heather Graham
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returning to Moon Bay.
But Laurie had still been at the Tiki Hut when Alex left, so maybe the late night and the excitement of the day had caused her to sleep in. And maybe she had decided not to come because Seth Granger was on the dive, and he always made things miserable.
At Molasses Reef, their first dive, Alex noted that the Icarus, David’s yacht, was already anchored nearby. They never anchored on the reefs themselves. Most divers were aware of the very delicate structure of the reef and that it shouldn’t be touched by human hands, much less bear the weight of an anchor, and wouldn’t have moored there even if there hadn’t been laws against it. David was close though, closer than they went themselves.
“Now that’s a great-looking yacht,” Seth commented, spitting on his mask to prep it.
“Yes,” she agreed. The Icarus was a thirty-two footer, and she looked incredible under full sail. Today, however, David wasn’t sailing her. He’d apparently used the motor. The yacht moved like a dream, either way. Inside, the mahogany paneling and rich appointments made her just as spectacular. The galley had every possible accessory, as did the captain’s desk. She was big enough to offer private sleeping facilities for up to three couples.
“You should have asked for the yacht,” Seth said, eyeing the Icarus.
“I beg your pardon?”
“In your divorce settlement. You should have asked for the yacht. She’s a beauty. But, hey, you’ve got another chance to ask for her now. Heard you’re not really divorced,” Seth said.
“Where did you hear that?”
He laughed again, or rather, bellowed. “People talk, you know. Moon Bay is an island. Small. People talk. About everything.”
He stared at her, which gave her a very uncomfortable feeling. What else was being discussed?
“I don’t want her. She belongs to David. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get in the water. And so do you. The tour group is waiting.”
Her people were buddied up the way she’d arranged them after she’d duly studied their certificates and discussed their capabilities. She’d decided to buddy up with Zach herself.
In the water, leading the way, even though she was checking constantly to assure herself that her group indeed knew what they were doing and how to deal with their equipment, she found a certain peace. The sound of her own air bubbles always seemed lulling and pleasant. As yet, no cell phones rang here.
Zach stuck with her, amazed. A Michigan kid, he’d gotten his certificate in cold waters and was entranced by the reef. It was a joy to see his pleasure in the riot of tropical fish, and in the giant grouper that nosily edged their way.
This was an easy dive; most of it no more than thirty feet. When she counted her charges again, she saw that Seth Granger had wandered off. His “buddy,” the mother of the girls from the day before, was looking lost.
Alex motioned to Zach, then went after Granger. He seemed hostile, but, to her relief, he rejoined the group.
Back on deck, he was annoyed. “I saw David out on the reef. I was just going over for a friendly underwater hello.”
“Mr. Granger—”
“Seth. Come on, honey, we’ve seen enough of each other.”
“Seth, if you’d wanted an unplanned, individual dive, you should have spoken with David earlier—and gone out on the Icarus with him. I’m sure he’d have been happy to have you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I know what I’m doing in the water.”
“Guess what, Seth? I don’t go diving alone. Too dangerous. Now, I can have the skipper take the boat back in and drop you off at Moon Bay, or you can stay with the group and abide by our rules.”
He pointed a finger at her. “I’ll be talking to your boss tonight.”
“You do that.”
At the next two stops, he still wandered, but not as badly, as the first time pretending he had become fascinated by a school of tangs and followed them too far, and then, on the last go-round, that he had seen a fantastic turtle and been unable to resist.
When the last dive was completed, Alex allowed herself a moment’s pleasure. Zach was in seventh heaven, and her other divers were exuberant over the beauty they had witnessed. They were ready, when they reached the main island and the little thatch-roofed diner, to eat, drink and chat.
“Good job, boss lady!” Jeb commented to her, a sparkle in his eye, as they went ashore themselves. “How about you have a nice dinner, and I’ll keep Seth out of your hair?”
Jeb was great. A college senior, he was only hers for the summer. He was a thin kid, with flyaway dark hair, and a force and energy that defied his bony appearance. He never argued with her, watched her intently all the time, and was one of those people who seemed intent on really learning and absorbing all the information they could. When she wasn’t working with Laurie, she was happiest with Jeb, though all her assistants were handpicked and great.
“You’re on,” she told him gratefully.
Leaving the dive boat to her captain, Alex made certain all her charges were comfortable at the Egret Eatery, as the little restaurant was called.
Zach had already found the video games located at the rear of the place. The adults had settled in at various tables.
She saw Jay, Hank, John and David at a table and felt a moment’s wary unease. The four of them had obviously spent the day out on the reef together. She’d known the Icarus was a stop ahead of her all day. She just hadn’t realized how full the yacht had been.
She was about to venture toward their table, but then she saw Seth Granger moving that way, so she steered clear.
“Hey, guys,” Seth bellowed. “Mind if I join you? Drinks on me. What’ll it be?”
“A pitcher of beer would be appreciated,” Hank told him.
“Coke for me,” David said.
“Come on. You’re not going to crash after one beer, buddy.”
“No, a Coke will do fine for me.” David looked up and caught Alex’s eyes across the room. She felt a chill leap across the open space. For a man so determined to see to her safety, he looked a lot like he wanted to throttle her. Apparently he hadn’t enjoyed his night on the porch.
But he had stayed there. And he believed her, believed that the body she had discovered was Alicia Farr’s, and that she herself might well be in real danger.
But from who?
Since she wasn’t captaining any boat, she turned to the bar and asked Warren, the grizzled old sailor who owned the place, for a beer.
“Sure thing, Alex. How’s it going over there? It’s been a little slow around here.”
“Really? I’m not sure about the hotel, but the dives and swims have been full,” she told him.
Setting her glass down, he pointed at the television. “Storm season.”
“Summer is always slower than winter. Northerners stay home and sweat in their own states during the summer,” she reminded him.
He grinned. “Maybe, but we usually get a bigger Florida crowd around here than we’ve been getting lately.”
She glanced at the TV above the bar. “Is something going on now? I haven’t seen any alerts. The last tropical storm out veered north, right?”
“Yep. Now there’s a new babe on the horizon. She just reached tropical-storm status, and she’s been named Dahlia, but they think she’s heading north, too. They think she might reach hurricane status sometime, but that she’ll be off the Carolinas by then. Still, people don’t seem to be venturing out