“This isn’t going to do any good.” With a sense of deep fatalism, Elias readied himself for the next blow.
“Maybe not.” Justin slammed his fist into Elias’s stomach. “But I’m going to enjoy it.”
The punch was awkwardly delivered. It lacked the power and focus a trained fighter would have given it, but it carried the force of Justin’s rage. Elias absorbed the pain as he sprawled back against the counter and slid to the floor.
“What happened between you and my father? Tell me, damn you.”
Elias sucked in his breath and eased himself into a sitting position beneath the cash register. “You’ll have to ask your father.”
“He won’t talk to anyone.” Justin took a step forward. “The doctors sent him home yesterday. He just sits alone in a room, staring out at his garden. He won’t see anyone. Won’t even take business calls.”
“I know you aren’t going to believe this, but I regret the fact that your father tried to commit suicide.”
“The hell you do. You did this to him.” Justin started to reach for Elias again.
Crazy Otis spread his wings and screeched a warning.
Elias heard the shop door slam open. Voices called out. Feet pounded in the aisles between the display counters. From his position on the floor behind the cash register he could not see anyone, but he could hear quite clearly.
“What the devil’s going on here?” Yappy shouted.
“Told you, some guy just walked into the shop and took a swing at Winters.” Ted sounded out of breath as he pounded down the aisle. “Saw him myself.”
“I don’t get it. Everyone was saying this morning that Winters could take care of himself.”
“Yeah, well, it looks like he needs a little help this time,” Ted huffed. “That’s why I went and got you. Personally, I’m not the physical type and neither are you. Figured it was going to take both of us to stop this dude.”
“Hey, what’s happenin’?” Newlin called from the far end of the shop.
“Stop him.” Charity’s voice rang out through the cavernous old wharf building. It carried the authority of a woman who had once commanded a CEO suite. “Stop that man. He’s trying to kill Elias. Somebody do something. Call Chief Tybern.”
Bemused, Elias listened to the sounds of approaching rescue. The voices and footsteps had a surreal quality, not unlike the blood on his fingers. He thought about telling everyone to go away so that Justin Keyworth could finish beating him to a pulp, but somehow he didn’t think Charity would allow him that option.
“Get away from him,” Charity shouted. “I’ll have you arrested.” She had almost reached the counter.
“Back off,” Yappy growled.
Ted’s breathing was labored. “You heard him, back off, whoever you are.”
Justin seemed to finally become aware of the fact that he and Elias were no longer alone in the shop. He swung around to face the first rescuers as they reached the counter.
Elias looked up at the faces gathered around the cash register. Newlin, Yappy, and Ted confronted Justin with belligerent expressions. Justin glowered at them with the nothing-to-lose air of a wild animal brought to bay. He looked prepared to take on all three.
Elias roused himself from the waking dream. It was time to get control of the situation before someone besides himself got hurt.
“It’s okay.” He propped himself up against the counter. “It’s over. Keyworth was just about to leave, weren’t you, Keyworth?”
Justin said nothing. He stood, tense and grim, as if he expected to be brought down and ripped apart by the newcomers.
“Elias.” Charity rounded the end of the counter. She ignored Justin to fall to her knees. Her fingers fluttered anxiously over Elias. “You’re bleeding. Where else are you hurt?”
“It’s all right, Charity.” Elias watched Keyworth. “Like I said, it’s over. Isn’t that right, Keyworth?”
Justin jerked his gaze from the group facing him and looked down at Elias. “No, it’s not over. Not by a long shot. But I’ll finish it some other time.” He started toward the door.
Yappy, Newlin, and Ted blocked his path. Justin halted.
“Let him go,” Elias said quietly.
The three hesitated briefly and then reluctantly stepped aside. There was strained silence until the front door closed behind Justin Keyworth.
Charity looked at Yappy, Newlin, and Ted with deep gratitude in her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for saving him. It was very brave of you.”
Elias watched as all three men blushed furiously and looked ridiculously pleased with themselves. There was nothing quite as satisfying as a woman’s admiration of one’s manly prowess, he thought wryly. He had a fleeting regret that he had not given a better account of himself.
Would he have acted to change the outcome of the fight if he had known Charity would be a witness? he wondered. Maybe. Then, again, maybe not. It was hard to decide because everything about the scene still felt unreal. It was as if he were walking on the bottom of the sea. Everything moved in slow motion.
“We didn’t do much,” Ted said modestly.
“Nonsense.” Charity plucked a tissue from a box on a shelf beneath the counter and carefully dabbed at the blood that was trickling down Elias’s chin. “You drove that man off before he could do any more damage. I’m sure Elias will want to thank you as soon as I’ve got him cleaned up. Isn’t that right, Elias?”
Elias had to work to think of a response. “I’ll buy ’em all a beer tonight after we close.”
The three rescuers exchanged glances, and then they looked down at Elias.
“Want one of us to call Tybern and report that guy?” Ted asked.
“No. This was personal. But thanks for the help.”
Yappy leaned over the counter to peer at him. “Word is, you didn’t need any help last night.”
Elias looked at Charity. “This was different.”
“Uh-huh.” She took him by the hand. “Come with me.”
He followed her obediently out the door and down the pier to the small public rest rooms in the center. She pushed open a door and led him inside the door marked ladies.
He glanced around the confines of the small, functional room as Charity turned on the faucet over the sink. It occurred to him that, in spite of a life lived in some unusual places, he had never actually been inside a women’s room. There was an alien quality to the experience that meshed surprisingly well with the other elements of the bizarre underwater world in which he was moving.
“Maybe we should take you to the doctor.” Charity dampened a clean paper towel to sponge off his mouth.
“Hell, no. It’s just a cut lip.” Elias winced as she gently touched the wet towel to the small wound. “No real damage.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t lose a tooth. I saw the way you handled those two thugs last night. I doubt if either of them laid a finger on you. So why on earth did you let that man beat on you today?”
“I wasn’t stupid about it.” He felt oddly defensive. “I went with the punches. I’ve still got all my teeth, and my nose isn’t broken.”
“If that was an example of rolling with the punches, I’d hate to see you do something really dumb like stand still and let him use you for a punching bag.” She finished cleaning his mouth and dropped the towel in the sink. “Who was he, anyway?”
“What makes you think I know him?”
“Don’t give me that.” She reached into the small first-aid kit she had found beneath the counter. “You deliberately took that punishment. You didn’t even try to fight back. There has to be a reason.”
“Justin Keyworth. Garrick Keyworth’s son.”
Charity stilled, a small bottle of antiseptic in hand. She met his eyes in the mirror. “I see. He blames you for what his father tried to do?”
“Yes.”
“And you blame yourself.” She swung around to face him. “So you let him pound on you. Is that the kind of basic psychology taught b
y the Way of Water?”
“Tal Kek Chara isn’t big on modern psychological theory.” He grimaced as she dabbed the antiseptic on his lip. “That hurts.”
“I doubt if it hurts as much as getting punched in the first place. Hold still.”
“I sense I’m losing some of your feminine compassion and sympathy here.”
“The problem that you’ve got with Garrick Keyworth isn’t going to get settled this easily, Elias.” She taped a Band-Aid carefully in place. When she was finished, she studied him with a soul-deep concern that somehow pierced the strange atmosphere that surrounded him.
He knew she was right, and he fought the knowledge with the old tried-and-true weapons. He stepped back into himself and drew the invisible defenses of Tal Kek Chara around him.
“None of this has anything to do with you, Charity. I don’t need or want your advice. I’ll handle it in my own way.”
Her soft mouth tightened. “I’m sure you will.” She turned back to the sink and began to repack the first-aid kit.
He was suddenly furious. “Does this mean I’m not invited to dinner tonight?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said coolly. “I won’t be home this evening. The regular meeting of the town council is scheduled for tonight. I plan to attend. I’m sure the mayor and the council members will have come up with yet another plan to get their hands on Crazy Otis Landing.”
“They can’t do a damn thing. I own the pier, remember?”
“Yes, but you’re an enigmatic, mysterious, unpredictable stranger in these parts.” She closed the first-aid kit and started toward the door. “No one knows what your plans are or how long you intend to hang around town. Who can predict what you’ll do if the council comes up with an offer to buy the landing?”
“You know I’m not going to sell the pier.”
“Do I?” She gave him a brittle smile as she paused with her hand on the door knob. “I almost forgot, you were supposed to see Hank Tybern this morning. What did he do about Rick Swinton?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? But he should have arrested him or something.”
“That would have been a little difficult under the circumstances. Swinton has disappeared.”
“What? Tybern let him get away? That’s inexcusable. Why didn’t the chief move more quickly last night? What’s so hard about finding Swinton, even if he has left town? That motor home of his should be easy to spot on the highway. It’s too big to just vanish.”
Her outrage gave Elias a small measure of satisfaction. “Apparently Swinton came to the same conclusion. He’s gone, but his motor home is still parked out at the campground. Tybern figures he probably caught a ride back to Seattle with one of the departing Voyagers.”
* * *
The after-work crowd gathered in the comfortably dingy shadows of the Cove Tavern was sparse. In addition to himself and his stalwart band of rescuers, Elias counted only a half-dozen other people. One of them, he noticed, was Leighton Pitt, who sat in a dark corner, huddled over a martini and an extra-large plate of cheese-drenched nachos. Leighton looked even worse than Elias felt.
At least he had companions, Elias thought. Newlin, Yappy, and Ted shared his table. Leighton was alone. It was the first time that day since Charity had abandoned him in the women’s room that Elias had seen anything that was even remotely positive in his situation.
Newlin wrapped his hands around his bottle of beer and studied Elias with disconcerting intensity. “So, if you’re some kind of martial arts expert, how come you let that guy stomp you this morning?”
“Who says I’m a martial arts expert?” Elias asked.
Newlin scowled. “Jeff Collings told me about what happened out at your place last night. Said you took on two guys and never even got a scratch on you.”
“That explains it,” Yappy offered. “Elias, here, was probably tuckered out after last night’s fight. Didn’t have any strength left for another round today.”
“That right, Elias?” Ted set down his beer bottle and leaned back in his chair. His T-shirt du jour read No Good Deed Goes Unpunished.
“Damned if I know.” Elias eyed the T-shirt. For some reason it seemed remarkably apropos.
“That guy who decked you,” Newlin said. “Did you know him?”
“I know his father.”
Newlin brightened. “So that’s maybe why you didn’t flatten him, huh? Friend of the family?”
It occurred to Elias that Newlin was very intent on discovering an explanation for this morning’s poor showing. “I don’t think the family considers me a friend.”
“Still, you know ’em and all.” Newlin looked satisfied.
“I know them,” Elias agreed. Always study your enemy’s reflection in the calmest water. Yes, he knew the Keyworths very well. It was himself he didn’t recognize today. The realization sent a cold chill through him.
Yappy eyed him thoughtfully. “Sure upset Charity to see you bleedin’ all over the floor.”
“You think so?” Elias took a swallow of beer.
Ted frowned. “Yeah, she was upset, all right. She’s been through a lot lately. I mean, there was the murder and then that big fight at your house last night and now this.”
Yappy squinted. “Heard she was with you when those two guys broke into your place last night.”
There was a short, tense silence. Elias noticed that the others were watching him expectantly. Slowly he put his beer bottle back down on the table. “She was with me. What about it?”
“It’s your business,” Ted said. “Yours and Charity’s. But none of us wants to see her get hurt.”
Elias jerked a thumb at his black eye and the Band-Aid on his jaw. “In case no one has noticed, I’m the one who’s been getting hurt around here lately.”
“Yeah, well, that’s different,” Yappy said.
Ted and Newlin nodded in somber agreement.
Elias could not think of a response to that so he took another mouthful of beer. The other three followed suit.
After a while Newlin fixed Elias with a peculiar, searching look. “Did you use that Way of Water stuff on those two dudes who broke into your house last night?”
Elias glanced at him. “Who told you about the Way of Water?”
Newlin shrugged. “Charity mentioned it a couple of times. So did Yappy and Ted.”
“Hayden used to talk about it a little,” Yappy explained. “Always meant to ask him more about it. But I never got around to it.”
Elias studied the thick glass mug in his hand. It was clouded with foam and smeared with beer and fingerprints. Everything he could see through it was blurred and fragmented. “There were some things that I never got the chance to ask him, either.”
“About this water thing,” Newlin said hesitantly.
Elias took a swallow of beer. “What about it?”
Newlin looked uncomfortable, as if he was trying to gather his nerve. “Well, Charity said you might be willing to teach it to me.”
Elias was briefly startled out of his underwater dream world. “She said that?”
“Yeah.” Newlin was ill at ease but determined. “So I was just wonderin’ if you would.”
He had always been the student, Elias realized. The thought of himself as an instructor struck him as marvelously strange. “I don’t know if I can teach the Way.”
“Well, could you, like, try?” Newlin asked.
Elias thought about it some more. Instructing Charity in a few simple self-defense moves was one thing. Teaching the whole of Tal Kek Chara was something else again. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Newlin’s smile completely altered his thin face. “Hey, thanks.”
Elias forced himself to swim through the currents of the dream. He looked at his companions. “That reminds me. I’m supposed to thank the rest of you for coming to my rescue this morning.” He saluted them with his beer mug. “So, thanks.”
“No problem,” Yappy said.
Ted nodded. “Forget i
t. If the situation was reversed, you’d have done the same.”
“Yeah, we’ve all got to stick together down there at the pier,” Newlin said.
“Which reminds me.” Yappy glanced at his watch. “Council meeting’s due to start in a few minutes. We’d better hustle our butts on down to town hall. Can’t leave Charity, Radiance, and Bea to face that crowd of barracudas alone.”
“Right.” Ted heaved himself to his feet. “You coming, Elias?”
“Hadn’t planned on it,” Elias said.
Newlin cleared his throat. “Charity says it’s kind of important. Word is, there’s gonna be a resolution to use public funds to buy the pier from you.”
“I’m not selling.”
Yappy looked at him. “Maybe you should go to the meeting tonight and make that real clear, Winters.”
Phyllis Dartmoor, dressed in a pearl gray suit styled with an aggressive pair of shoulder pads, stood at the center of the long table. She banged the gavel with her customary authority.
“This meeting will now come to order,” she announced.
Charity listened to the hum of conversation fade around her. She was seated in the third row. Radiance and Bea sat next to her on the left. There was no sign yet of Yappy, Ted, or Newlin. She had kept one seat vacant beside her, but she was not really expecting Elias to put in an appearance.
“The secretary will please read the minutes of the last meeting,” Phyllis ordered.
Liz Roberts, a large woman who had served on the council for longer than anyone could recall, rose at the end of the table. She began to read in a strong voice that carried clearly to the last row of seats in the small auditorium. Charity tuned her out. Everyone knew that reading the minutes was the high point of Liz’s month.
While the secretary droned on through the summary of the July council session, Charity ruminated on the subject that had been plaguing her all day. She was becoming more and more concerned about Elias.
It was bad enough that Rick Swinton had apparently escaped justice. But what worried her the most was the confrontation between Elias and Justin Keyworth that morning. Elias had been in a strange mood when she had patched him up in the women’s room.