Oceans of Fire

  She climaxed again, so hard this time her body shuddered and her small muscles gripped him like a hot fist, milking him dry, taking everything from him until there was no choice but to lose his control and empty himself into her.

  Abigail collapsed over him, her head on his shoulder, her hair everywhere in a wild tangle of red silk. Her breath came in the same rasping gasps as his did. He could feel her heart pounding through her soft skin. Aleksandr brought up his arms to enclose her, to wrap her tightly against him. "I need to hear you say it, Abbey."

  "I just showed you." She licked his throat, a small flick of her tongue.

  He was enjoying the aftershocks rippling through her body and that little flick only heightened his pleasure. His fingers shoved her hair aside. "I still want to hear you say it."

  "You're so greedy. You want everything."

  He loved that drowsy, sexy note in her voice as she teased him. He reached down and pulled the comforter over their bodies. This was how he remembered so many nights with her. Making love so many times, so many ways they were both exhausted and covered in sex and each other. Neither could move. Neither wanted to move. They could only lay wrapped in each other's arms trying to find a way to breathe and calm their pounding hearts.

  "Say it," he insisted. "I tell you all the time. I think there should be a rule you have to tell me at least once every time we make love."

  "Then you'd be spoiled." Her eyes were closed. He could see the dark fringe of lashes on her cheek and the faint smile curving her mouth.

  "I need to be spoiled."

  She yawned and snuggled closer to him. "I love you very much, Sasha."

  Satisfaction swept through him. He held her to him, feeling the rise and fall of her breasts against his chest. His body had slipped from hers, but he lay snug in her nest of curls. He shifted her gently until she was on her side with him curled around her, his favorite position to sleep. And he knew he would sleep. She'd managed to calm his mind and soothe whatever demons had held him in their grip.

  He held her to him, listening to her breathe. When she was almost asleep he whispered into her ear, "If I touch you again, will you come alive for me? Will you let me have you, Abbey?" He slid his hand between her thighs and cupped her feminine mound. "As tired as you are, will you still give yourself to me?"

  She turned her head toward him, smiling, her green eyes looking straight into his. She reached behind her with one hand to cup his neck, to arch back and find his mouth with hers, kissing him with every bit of passion and hunger and surrender she'd shown earlier. "Do you think anything has changed in ten minutes?"

  She was laughing at him. He bit down on her lower lip, tugged for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. "Go to sleep."

  "Will you be able to sleep?"

  "Yes."

  "If you wake up in the middle of the night..."

  "I already know exactly how I'll wake you," he promised.

  17

  THE pounding on the door of her family home brought Abigail to her feet, and the research paper she was writing slid to the floor and the notebooks scattered in all directions. She knew something was wrong before she opened the door, but the last person she ever expected to see was Sylvia Fredrickson.

  Abigail stared at the woman, shocked by her appearance. Sylvia's eyes were red and swollen from crying. Her clothes were disheveled and she sobbed wildly. "Sylvia!" Unable to think what else to do, Abigail drew her into the house. "What is it? Were you in an accident?"

  "I didn't know where else to go." Sylvia's eyes were wide with shock as she stared around the living room, as if afraid something would jump out and attack her. "I had nowhere else to go."

  "Let me call Libby. Do you need an ambulance? The police?" Abigail could see the red and black aura surrounding Sylvia. "Sit down. Are you going to faint?"

  "No! Don't call the police. Whatever you do, don't call them. You have to help me. I don't know what to do." She began wringing her hands together. "I don't know what to do. You're smart. All of you are really smart. You have to tell me what to do."

  Abigail glanced down at the torn nails, the bruising on Sylvia's wrists and arms. "All right. Just sit down. Take a deep breath. I'll help you. I will, Sylvia. Please sit down." She could feel the woman trembling as she assisted her into a chair. "Just tell me what happened and we'll figure it out together."

  Abigail waved a careless hand toward the mantel to light several candles and aromatic diffusers and fill the air with the scents of roman chamomile, geranium, and lavender to aid in comforting Sylvia.

  "I know you hate me, and I shouldn't have come here, but there's nowhere else to go. I don't know what to do and you always do." Sylvia took the tissue Abigail handed her and blew her nose. "You won't believe me, but I really love Mason. I do. I would never have cheated on him, but we had this terrible fight and I was angry with him and Bruce was at the bar complaining and we both got drunk. I was just so drunk."

  "What happened tonight?" Abigail prompted.

  "They're going to hurt him." Sylvia leapt to her feet and began pacing, twisting her hands together again in agitation. "They might even kill him. You have to help him. You have to do something."

  "Who's going to kill Mason? Why?"

  "Chad Kingman." Sylvia spun around. "He's doing something terrible. Illegal. And he's mixed up with some very bad people. Chad looked awful, his face all black and blue and swollen."

  "Sylvia, is Mason in trouble right now? Where is he?" Abigail hung on to her patience. "I know you're upset, but if you don't calm down and tell me everything, I can't help either one of you."

  "Sylvia," Libby greeted the woman as she entered the room, the other Drake sisters following. Libby took the woman by the arm and led her back to a chair. "Please sit down. I've brought you a cup of tea. Take a couple of sips and you'll feel much more able to tell us what happened."

  "You can't go to the police," Sylvia said anxiously. "I know if you go to the police they'll kill him. I overheard them talking. They want the Russian, Aleksandr Volstov. Abigail knows him. She was with him all evening at the Caspar Inn." She reached out again to Abigail and gripped her hands hard. "Please talk to him. Tell him he has to go and get Mason back."

  "Why do they want Aleksandr?" Abigail made eye contact with Joley, who nodded and left the room to make the call.

  Sylvia took the teacup from Libby and inhaled the soothing aroma. She was obviously struggling to get her breath back. Libby sat beside her and very gently wrapped her fingers around Sylvia's wrist. The trembling lessened and Sylvia dragged air into her lungs.

  Abigail crouched in front of the disheveled woman. "Tell us what Mason's involved in." She wanted to keep Sylvia calm until Aleksandr arrived.

  "Chad called me at home yesterday and told me Mason was going to the big party at the art gallery. He knows how I feel about Mason. We've always been good friends and he knew I wanted to patch things up with Mason." She touched her face. "I ran out and bought a new outfit and went, even though I knew it would be awful and no one would talk to me. I just wanted Mason to see I was serious about being with him, but everything went wrong."

  "And you were angry with me," Abigail said.

  Sylvia nodded. "I thought it was your fault. He found out about the affair because of you and every time he saw the rash on my face it just reminded him of what I'd done." She ducked her head. "I was so desperate to get rid of it I even went to see Lucinda, the voodoo lady over in Point Arena, but nothing she did worked. I was talking to Ned Farmer and the stupid rash was suddenly all over my face and I turned around and Mason was standing there. I could see his disappointment in me. He walked away without saying a word." Tears filled her eyes all over again.

  "I'm sorry, Sylvia," Abigail said gently, "but where is Mason now? You have to tell us what happened to him. What happened to you?"

  "I'm trying to." Sylvia took another sip of tea. "Mason went into the back where Chad works. I waited and waited for hi
m to come back out so I could talk to him, but he didn't. And then I ran into the Russian, the one you were with at the Caspar Inn." She swallowed convulsively several times. "I was so angry with you. I wanted you to hurt the way I was hurting and I asked him to go in the back room. I though Mason would be there, but he wasn't."

  "It's all right, Sylvia," Abigail soothed. "I understand."

  Sylvia shook her head. "No, you don't. Mason never went home. I sat on his porch all night and he never came home. I went by his boat and he wasn't there either so I decided to go ask Chad where he was. They're such good friends." Her voice broke. "I thought they were good friends."

  "I'm sure Aleksandr will help," Abigail offered. She'd known Sylvia since the third grade and she'd never seen her so broken.

  "Mason really loved me. He didn't think I was stupid or a slut, or any of the other things everyone else thinks. I can't believe how stupid I was to ruin everything over a dumb fight."

  "Sylvia, where is he? What happened to you?"

  "When he didn't come home, I went down to Chad's place to ask him if he'd seen Mason. Chad was just getting into his truck and he didn't see me waving him down. I followed him to that old abandoned barn just past the turnoff to Caspar. You know the one that looks like it might fall down any minute? It's overgrown all the way up to the house. I parked my car a distance away and sneaked up on him."

  "Why?" Abigail looked at Sylvia's dirty jeans, the knees torn and black.

  "I don't know. He was acting strange and he was beat up like he'd been in a terrible fight. He kept looking around like he expected to be followed and I was afraid. I thought maybe he'd gotten into a fight with Mason. I hid in the grass and crept up on the barn until I could look through one of the cracked boards."

  "Sylvia!" Abigail was horrified. "You could have been killed. What were you thinking?"

  "I don't know. I just wanted to find Mason."

  "Aleksandr is here," Joley said softly. "He'll help, Sylvia."

  Sylvia gasped in horror as she saw Jonas follow Aleksandr through the door. She began shaking her head violently.

  Abigail rescued the teacup. "Jonas isn't in uniform, Sylvia. You know he's friends with Mason. He would never do anything to jeopardize Mason's life."

  "I was with Aleksandr when Joley called," Jonas explained. "I couldn't help but overhear. I know this coastline better than most, Sylvia, and nobody is going to kill Mason if I can help it."

  "Sylvia was just telling us she followed Chad out to the old run-down barn just past the Caspar exit. She was hoping to find Mason and thought Chad was acting funny," Abigail said. "So she followed him."

  Sylvia nodded. "I looked into the barn and there was a man standing there holding a gun to Mason's head." She broke into sobs again, choking, pressing her palm to her mouth to muffle the sounds. "They were going to shoot him right there. Right at that moment in front of me." She looked up at Abigail. "I was so scared. I was afraid to move."

  "Of course you were. Anyone would be."

  "Before he could pull the trigger another man came out of the shadows. I hadn't even noticed him, but I could tell everyone was afraid of him, especially Chad."

  "Chad was going to let them shoot Mason?" Jonas swore and turned away. "I would never have thought that of him."

  "Maybe he didn't have a choice," Abigail said. She glanced questioningly up at Aleksandr, reading the answer in his eyes. He believed, as she did, that the man coming out of the shadows was Prakenskii. It stood to reason that Chad would be very afraid of him.

  "The man said they could use Mason. He said Volstov or the cops didn't have a clue what was going on and why should they take the chance. Chad could transport it and they'd hold Mason until he returned. I didn't know what it was, but Chad kept shaking his head and looked like he was going to cry."

  "They referred to something as it, but they didn't say anything at all that would help you identify what it was?" Jonas asked.

  Sylvia shook her head. "They talked about what a threat Volstov could be. Even Chad said so." She looked at Aleksandr. "They must be afraid of you. Can't you do something? Please do something."

  "This man, the one they were all afraid of, did he talk with a Russian accent? Was his hair worn fairly long?" Aleksandr asked.

  Sylvia nodded. "He said something to Mason I couldn't hear and Mason kicked out at him. The man seemed to get mad and he told Mason if the police came anywhere near the barn, he was a dead man. Mason spit at him. He shoved his gun against Mason's head and I couldn't help myself, I screamed."

  "That doesn't sound like Prakenskii," Aleksandr said.

  "Yes! That was his name. The other Russian man called him Prakenskii. It sounded different when he said it, though." She took the tissue from Joley and blew her nose. "He came out of the barn and I ran as fast as I could. About halfway to my car, he caught up with me, grabbed my ankle, and I fell down. I kicked and scratched him and fought until I was free. I was frantic. I ran back to my car and he shot the gun once and missed me. He called out to me that if I went to the police, he'd kill both Mason and Chad and hunt me down."

  Aleksandr sank back on his heels. "You were able to get away from Prakenskii? He shot at you and missed?"

  "I kept kicking until his hands slipped off of me," Sylvia said. "Jonas, if he sees me with you and knows you're a cop, he'll kill Mason."

  "Sylvia," Libby said, "I want to help you calm down a little. Jonas and Aleksandr will get Mason back and I'll give you a mild sedative. You can stay here with us until they bring Mason to you. It won't help him if you make yourself sick."

  Sylvia touched her face. "Can you take away the rash?"

  Libby glanced at Hannah, who shrugged and lifted her hands palms up in a gesture of surrender. "Only you can do that, Sylvia," Libby said. "You have to do the right thing."

  "You've said that before," Sylvia wailed. "I don't know what the right thing is."

  "Apologize to Abbey for slapping her." Joley fought to keep the exasperation from her voice. "I don't think that's too much to ask. She didn't intentionally use the word truth and you were the one who screwed up and was having the affair. You should never have hit her."

  "It doesn't matter," Abigail said.

  "It does," Joley insisted. Hannah nodded her head in agreement. "It's the only way to get rid of it."

  "All I have to do is apologize?" Sylvia asked incredulously. "I'm sorry a thousand times. You have no idea how sorry I am."

  Libby drew her out of the chair. "Come with me. We'll get you cleaned up and you can rest."

  Sylvia touched her face. "Will it really go away now?"

  "Yes," Joley confirmed.

  "And you two will get Mason?" Sylvia asked the men.

  Jonas nodded and waited until Libby had led her away. "You don't think she got away on her own? Do you think she's lying?"

  "It's possible, although I don't know why she would." Aleksandr frowned as he tried to puzzle it out. "There's no way she could have gotten away from Prakenskii. And he'd never miss."

  Abigail cleared her throat. She took a deep breath and let it out. "She's not lying." She had promised herself she'd never divine the truth again, not for law enforcement, but she couldn't let them think Sylvia was in some way trying to deceive them. Sylvia's fear and her concern for her ex-husband were very genuine.

  Aleksandr reached out to her and laced his fingers through hers, knowing how difficult it was for her to give them that small piece of information. "So Sylvia did get away. Then it couldn't have been Prakenskii. He never misses and no woman, especially an untrained one, could have fought him off."

  "Could he have let her go on purpose?" Abigail asked.

  They all fell silent. Jonas drummed his fingers on the small end table until Hannah leaned over and put her hand over his to stop the irritating noise. When he glanced at her, she snatched her hand away. "That's s-s-so annoying."

  "How nice that Barbie doll is speaking to me today," Jonas said.

  Hannah made a face at him
.

  "Don't start!" Abigail commanded. "I don't like any of this and I want clear heads while we all figure it out. If it was Prakenskii and Aleksandr's right about him, then he deliberately allowed Sylvia to escape. He wanted her to find Aleksandr."

  "I'd have to agree with that," Jonas said as his fingers began to drum on the end table again. "A setup, Aleksandr? Are they deliberately drawing you into a trap?"

  Aleksandr shrugged. "It isn't Prakenskii's style. If he was going to kill me, he'd sit outside of Abbey's house and nail me through a window or as I was coming out. I'm not ruling it out, but it seems rather elaborate. He isn't a man who would leave things to chance. What if Sylvia went home and hid under her covers? What if she went to the police? There are too many variables for a man like Prakenskii to use her to set me up for a kill."

  Carol sank into a chair. "Nail you through a window? You mean shoot you?"

  "I'm sorry," Aleksandr said, observing that she was pale. "I didn't mean to upset you. Would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

  Carol waved her hand toward the kitchen at the same time Hannah did. She flashed Aleksandr a faint smile. "You're a good man. I hope my niece decides to forgive you and give you another chance."

  "We shouldn't have been discussing something like this in front of you, Aunt Carol," Jonas said.

  "I'm not upset talking about murder and murderers. I just realized that someone was looking through our window through something that reflected light. Binoculars maybe, or a scope. Jefferson was a hunter before we married and he kept rifles. That first day, when Abbey had the run-in with killers, I was taking snapshots of the girls, mostly to make them laugh. It was at night and I was facing the large picture window and there was a glare on the camera. I snapped the shot and have the photograph in the other room." She shuddered. "Just the idea that someone could have been looking through our window, holding a gun on one of us, is terrifying."

  Abigail tightened her fingers around Aleksandr's. "That was the evening you came to my room. I remember Aunt Carol taking pictures. We were sort of joshing Jonas about being spies and she got out the camera. She told us there was some kind of light in the window. It made all of us nervous and we closed the drapes and added to the protection binding the house. You told me you ran into Prakenskii that night. Could he have been here the entire time waiting to get a clear shot at you?"