Gift of Fire

“Jonas!” She blushed hotly.

  But he was already lifting her into his arms and carrying her through the villa door.

  Maggie Frampton was hovering in the main hall. She peered uneasily at Jonas and Verity. “I wondered where you two had gone.”

  “We just took a little walk,” Jonas said smoothly. “Verity is exhausted.”

  “I know what you mean,” Maggie said wistfully. “I used to get that same exhausted look on my face when Digby invited me to go down to the torture chamber.” She turned and walked heavily out of the hall.

  “She really misses him,” Verity said softly. “It’s going to be hard on her when Doug sells this place.”

  “Speaking of a hard-on,” Jonas murmured as he started up the stairs, “let me tell you about my little problem.”

  “I’ve seen this problem of yours before, Jonas Quarrel, and it’s not little.”

  Maggie listened to Quarrel’s bootsteps ringing on the stone as he carried Verity up the stairs. Her hands bunched into broad fists. More than anything else she wanted them all to leave. She just wanted them out of here. Digby would have felt the same way.

  How he would have despised Preston Yarwood. Yarwood was nothing but a clever con man, Digby would say. And he would have kicked Oliver Crump and his silly crystals out the front door, too. Maggie didn’t like the way Oliver watched everyone and everything from behind those little round glasses. Something told her he saw far too much.

  And as for Slade Spencer, Digby wouldn’t have tolerated him and his drugs for a minute. Maggie frowned as she thought about Spencer. There was something vaguely familiar about him. She wished she could put her finger on it. When she got the chance, she decided, she’d have a little peek at his things upstairs. It would be easy enough to do; she had a master key to all the rooms in the villa.

  But the main problem around here was Doug and Elyssa. They held the fate of the villa in their hands.

  Later, Verity, who was lying on her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and leaned over Jonas to get his attention. He opened one eye and regarded her with lazy indulgence.

  “You’re glaring at me again. Didn’t your father ever warn you about frown lines?” he asked. “Pests are at high risk for them. They need to take extra precautions.”

  Verity arched her brows. “Such as?”

  “Such as smiling at their lovers a lot and practicing saying yes.”

  “I say yes to you far too often. Look where it gets me.” She tilted her chin to indicate the tousled bed.

  Jonas contrived to look hurt. “I do it all for you, and this is the thanks I get.”

  “For me.”

  “Sure. Think of it as a beauty treatment. Keeps you toned and lubricated.”

  “Some beauty treatment. It’s going to turn me into a giant whale during the next few months,” Verity complained.

  To her surprise, Jonas’s expression sobered. He drew a finger along the line of her jaw. “Are you scared, honey?” he asked gently.

  Verity automatically started to deny it, but reality stopped her. “A little,” she admitted.

  “Don’t be,” Jonas ordered softly. “I’ll be there with you. We’ll handle it together the same way we handle those transitions into the time corridor. No sweat.”

  Verity’s mouth curved. “ ‘No sweat.’ I’ll remember that promise.”

  He touched her lips with his fingertip. His golden eyes were brilliant and very, very serious. “You do that.”

  She sighed and rested her chin on his chest. His strength was always a source of reassurance and security. It was true there was a wide streak of the primitive in Jonas, a side of him that knew and understood far too much about violence. But she would never need to fear him. “I do love you, Jonas.”

  His gaze was intent. “Just as well, since we’re going to be married.” He went on quickly before she could argue the point, “Now tell me why you were glaring at me a minute ago.”

  “I was not glaring at you. That was an expression of thoughtful concern.”

  “Excuse me. Why were you glaring at me with an expression of thoughtful concern?” He ruffled her curls.

  “I was thinking about Elyssa and Preston Yarwood.”

  “What about them?”

  Verity lifted her chin and hunched forward with sudden intensity. “Jonas, when we were talking about the possibility that Yarwood was the one who pushed Elyssa off that cliff, we forgot about another possible bad guy. Someone we haven’t even considered.”

  Jonas tilted his head to one side on the pillow and studied her serious expression. “You mean whoever owns that boat down in the cove?”

  Verity groaned. “I should have known you’d already thought of it. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  “I was too involved in other matters,” he said in a lofty tone.

  “You mean you were in too much of a hurry to get your jeans unzipped. Honestly, Jonas, for a man with a respectable academic reputation, you have an amazingly primitive mentality when it comes to some matters. Obviously a Ph.D. is no guarantee against simpleminded lust.”

  Jonas widened his eyes in astonishment. “Did you think it was?”

  “One has certain illusions about academia.”

  “Only someone who never suffered through the formal academic process could harbor any illusions about it. Be grateful your father never sent you to a real school. Come to think of it, I’m inclined to ask Emerson to supervise the education of our kid.”

  “We’re straying from the topic here,” Verity pointed out. It was oddly disturbing to have Jonas discussing the education of their baby.

  “Were we straying? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Another example of your simplemindedness.”

  “My simplemindedness is all your fault,” he said dismissively. He gave a huge yawn, then he flashed her a wolfish grin.

  “About that boat in the cove,” Verity said determinedly.

  “I’ll have another look at it in the morning. Did you notice anything special when you opened the locker to get the tarp for Elyssa?”

  Verity shook her head, trying to remember. “No. I didn’t see any log books or identification papers. But I wasn’t looking for them, either. Jonas, that boat means there’s someone else on this island.”

  “Like Doug said, probably a tourist who’s camping here for a couple of days.”

  “In this weather?”

  Jonas contemplated that silently for a few seconds. “I’ve heard these Northwest types are very hardy,” he finally said. “It could be a devout fisherman.”

  “Then where is he? Why didn’t he notice Elyssa? Why didn’t he appear when the rest of us went down to the cove to get her?”

  “He could be camping a long way from where he left the boat. He might know nothing at all about what happened to Elyssa.”

  Verity declared, “He might have been the one who pushed her.”

  “Which leaves us with the question of why he would want to hurt her,” Jonas concluded. “When you get right down to it, Preston Yarwood is still the only one around with an honest-to-God motive.”

  “It looks that way, doesn’t it?” Verity agreed gloomily.

  “Verity.”

  “Hmm?” She knew that tone in his voice. It was the one Jonas used when he gave a command he expected to be obeyed.

  “I’ll see if I can find the guy who owns that boat in the morning,” Jonas said slowly. “In the meantime, whatever else happens, I want you to be damn sure you aren’t alone with Yarwood.”

  “I still can’t quite picture him as the violent type.”

  Jonas wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her face close to his for a quick, hard kiss. “For a woman who was raised in some of the seediest island towns in the Western Hemisphere, you sure don’t know much about men or violence. With Emerson Ames for
a father, how could you grow up with such a streak of naïveté?”

  “I am not naïve!”

  “Yes, you are. In some ways.” Jonas gave her a strange, speculative look. “I find it kind of endearing. Underneath that prickly exterior, you’re sweet and soft and gentle, inclined to see the best in everyone until you get hit over the head with evidence to the contrary. You’re a soft touch, honey. And I don’t want you hanging around Preston Yarwood unless I’m in the immediate vicinity. That’s an order.”

  Verity’s smile was a little too soft and a little too sweet. “Did I ever tell you how I get weak in the knees when you turn all macho?”

  “That’s very interesting, Verity. I don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned it. You want me to tie you to this bedpost while we discuss this weakness of yours, or would you prefer the one on the other side? Maybe all four at once?”

  She started to tickle him unmercifully. There were some distinct advantages to having lived with a man for a while—you knew exactly where he was most sensitive.

  If the atmosphere at lunch had been strained, the mood at dinner was stretched almost to the breaking point. It snapped just as the meal ended.

  Things started out quietly enough. There was a subdued tension hanging over the stone room, but Verity assumed that was only to be expected. She didn’t know if the others had come to the same conclusion she and Jonas had about the cause of Elyssa’s fall, but she knew the subject was on everyone’s mind.

  Maggie Frampton served the meal of leftovers in stony silence. Verity had a hunch her headache had returned. Slade Spencer made his appearance after having apparently served himself several drinks in the salon. He handled his knife and fork with exaggerated care. Anyone who drank the way Slade did had some serious ghosts, Verity decided.

  Preston Yarwood was sunk deep in a painful, angry silence that Verity noticed immediately. There was a lot of pain in the room, she realized, but she didn’t know how to relieve it. She found herself eating quickly, wanting to escape. Jonas didn’t seem inclined to linger over the meal either.

  As soon as possible, Verity put her crumpled napkin on the table and gave Jonas a quick, questioning glance. He nodded briefly and finished the last of his sandwich.

  Preston Yarwood chose to break his self-imposed silence just as Verity started to push back her chair. He raised his head and pinned Jonas with a look of dark, anguished rage.

  “She thought you were for real, you know,” Yarwood said in a strained voice. “She thought you were a genuine, grade A, goddamned real psychic.”

  Verity tensed and shot Jonas an anxious glance. He ignored her. Putting both elbows on the table, he regarded Yarwood with quiet challenge. “Is that right?” he asked softly. “I wonder where in hell she got that idea.”

  “Cut the crap, Quarrel. You know damn well where Elyssa got that idea. I know all about you. You were at Vincent College.”

  “A lot of people were at Vincent College.”

  “You were tested in their Department of Paranormal Research,” Yarwood said belligerently.

  “So what? I heard you were tested there too. But they didn’t find any trace of psychic talent in you, did they, Yarwood? What makes you think they found any in me?”

  “Oh, they thought they had found something, all right.”

  Yarwood picked up his glass and took a large swallow of the martini he’d been nursing through dinner. “I know all about those damn lab technicians and their bloody stupid research techniques. They found something. It was supposed to be a big secret. You were their prize guinea pig and no one wanted to lose you to a major-league research institution. So they kept it quiet. But there were rumors, lots of rumors. All those museums and private collectors who wanted you to check out their acquisitions believed you were for real —just like Elyssa did.”

  “But you know better, right, Yarwood?”

  “Why are you playing these fucking games with me?” Preston demanded furiously. “I know about you. I know just how for-real you are. You’re so goddamned real, you tried to kill a man in that damned lab! And maybe you tried to kill Elyssa, too.” Yarwood leaped to his feet.

  “Why would I want to kill Elyssa?” Jonas asked softly. His eyes held a savage gleam.

  “How the hell should I know? Maybe because you didn’t like the fact that she knew too much about you. Maybe you want to keep your damn talent a secret, so you can use it to rip off people like Doug Warwick. All I know is, Elyssa almost died out there on those cliffs, and I don’t believe she fell accidentally. The only one around who’s got a track record when it comes to attempted murder is you, you fucking psychic bastard.” Yarwood stomped out of the room.

  Slade Spencer had watched the small scene with bleary eyes. He said nothing. Jonas’s fingers flexed as he toyed with the handle of his dinner knife.

  Verity sat frozen, staring at the empty doorway. She was so furious that for an instant she couldn’t even move. Then she found her tongue. “How dare he accuse you!” She leaped to her feet.

  “Sit down, Verity.”

  “I will not sit down. That man made a terrible accusation. I’m going to set him straight.” She started to move past his chair to get to the door.

  Jonas reached out and snagged her wrist, yanking her to a halt. “I said, sit down.” His face was set in hard, uncompromising lines.

  “But, Jonas, we can’t let him think…”

  “Who knows what he thinks? All we heard was what he said. Sit.” He used his grip on her wrist to force her back down into her chair.

  “You’re right,” Slade Spencer said, finally speaking. His voice was slurred. “We heard what he said. Is it true? You kill some dude in a lab?”

  “No, he did not kill anyone in any lab,” Verity retorted hotly. “Yarwood was lying.”

  “That’s enough, Verity,” Jonas said.

  Spencer scratched his nose and made a production out of lighting his fragrant pipe. The heavy scent filled the room. “I guess he didn’t actually say you killed someone, did he, Quarrel? He said you tried to kill someone. I take it something interesting did happen at Vincent College?”

  “Nothing that concerns you, Spencer.”

  “Hey, man, I gotta right to know if I’m staying in the same house as a fucking murderer.”

  Maggie Frampton appeared in the kitchen doorway, frowning darkly as she wiped her hands on a towel. “What’s this about murder?”

  “He’s not a murderer,” Verity shouted.

  Jonas got to his feet and tugged Verity up beside him. “Come on, honey. Let’s get out of here.”

  She dug in her heels. “But, Jonas, I want to explain. I don’t want these people thinking you’re a murderer.”

  Jonas shot her a cool glance as he pulled her toward the door. “Leave it, Verity.”

  “Just because you’re too damn proud to make explanations,” she said angrily, “doesn’t mean I can’t.”

  “There’s nothing to explain.” He had her through the door now, and led her down the hall to the stone staircase. “Yarwood is right.”

  “About what happened at Vincent? But Jonas, there were mitigating circumstances.” Verity was incensed at the injustice of it all.

  “I’m sure anyone who ever sank an ice pick into someone else would claim there were mitigating circumstances. If Yarwood tried to kill Elyssa, you can bet he’s busy telling himself he had cause.”

  “Jonas, you did not kill that lab tech.”

  He shrugged. “I tried.”

  “It was an accident,” Verity raged. “A lab accident. People were playing with forces they didn’t understand, and someone got hurt.”

  Jonas stared at her for an instant. “Verity, even if you can argue that point, you can’t forget what happened a few months ago at Caitlin Evanger’s. Even Yarwood doesn’t know how good a case he’s got when it comes to accusing me of pushing
Elyssa into the water.”

  “What happened at Caitlin’s was pure self-defense,” Verity declared. Her eyes were blazing with righteous indignation. “You were attacked by a professional killer, for heaven’s sake.”

  A slow smile tugged at Jonas’s hard mouth. He looked down into her furious face. “You really do love me, don’t you?” he said softly.

  “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Never mind.”

  They were walking along the hall to the bedroom. Verity simmered down enough to think about what Yarwood had said. “You know, Jonas, if Preston thinks you tried to kill Elyssa, that means he’s probably innocent himself,” she said slowly. “He looked really torn up about it all.”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Jonas said fondly as he swept her through the door of their room. “If you’ve just killed someone, the logical thing to do is throw suspicion on someone else. Yarwood used the information he had on me to do just that in front of witnesses.”

  “Witnesses? Oh, you mean Spencer and Maggie.”

  “Yeah. Spencer and Maggie. And when Warwick and Crump get back tomorrow morning Yarwood will undoubtedly make certain they hear about my unsavory reputation.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that,” Verity chided him.

  Jonas shrugged. “Maybe Elyssa will remember what happened and solve the problem for all of us. In the meantime, we have to be prepared for the possibility that Doug will want to end this consulting job in a hurry tomorrow. Can’t blame him. After what happened to his sister, he’ll probably be anxious to end this entire thing.”

  “Can you write the report he wants with the information you’ve got?”

  “Don’t look so worried, boss. Sure I can write. The report never was a problem. I could have given him something for his clients after the first day.” Jonas was moving around the room, collecting the flashlight and a jacket. “But tonight could be our last shot at the treasure.”

  Verity groaned. “I should have guessed. You know, you’ve become obsessed by this treasure business, Jonas. I’m not sure it’s at all healthy. In fact, given what happened to Digby, I’d say it very definitely is not healthy.” She broke off. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”