He tried a few of the local hangouts but could find no sight of his quarry.
Dane stopped at a local donut shop for more coffee, gazing over the list of numbers Kelsey had given him. Why the hell had she taken so long to tell him about Sheila’s purse being on Izzy’s boat—and about the numbers? He felt a chill along his spine, knowing that Izzy had been keeping tabs on all his old acquaintances.
Coffee in hand, he headed out for the docks and Izzy Garcia.
His cell phone rang. He picked it up quickly.
“Dane, it’s Kelsey. What happened with Latham?”
“Nothing. They’d already let him out.”
“They let him out?”
“Yeah, yeah, he’s out. Where are you? What are you doing? Your voice is fading in and out.”
“Oh, we decided to spend the day out on the water. Cindy thinks it will be good for all of us.”
“Out on the water?” He wasn’t sure why that disturbed him.
“Yeah. Don’t worry. We’ve taken Nate’s boat. It’s just Larry, Nate, Cindy—and oh! We ran into Jorge at the docks, and his captains are taking out all his charters, so he decided to tag along, too. We’re going to do the tourist thing, go to the Christ statue, see the tropical fish. You know, all that stuff. We’ll come back in around—”
The phone went dead in his hands. He clenched his teeth, telling himself that she had just gotten out of satellite range somehow. He dialed her back. A taped voice told him that Kelsey Cunningham wasn’t available and to please leave a message. With an oath, he tossed his phone down.
He was already heading to the marina.
But when he arrived, Izzy’s boat was gone. Naturally. Charter time.
He stared at the dock impotently, thought of all the things he could do to make wise use of his time, then turned and walked to his car.
Screw it.
Something was bothering him. Something he couldn’t fathom.
When he got back to Hurricane Bay, he didn’t even go in the house. He headed straight for his boat.
CHAPTER 12
Kelsey lay on the deck. The sun was brilliant, a fantastic orb in an unbelievably blue sky. Larry had mentioned that the National Weather Service was still talking about a storm, but according to the forecast, the tropical depression now being called Hannah was heading toward the Carolinas. Kelsey still thought the sky was beautiful in the way it often was just days before the wind really ripped and the rain came in a deluge.
Lack of sleep had meant they were all fairly exhausted when they started out, but Cindy had been right. Being out on the sea was great. They had chosen to visit a few of the popular reefs around John Pennecamp Coral Reef State Park. The underwater park was protected, so there was an abundance of fish for them to look at. They started off north of French Reef, diving down to the wreck of the Benwood. The Benwood had been hit by a torpedo during World War II, then, while trying to get home, hit hard by another ship. Now she hosted a wealth of undersea wildlife. Beneath the surface, Nate pointed out a big grouper and mouthed a name. Old Henry. She hadn’t seen him before. Sometime during the last few years he must have realized with his little fish brain that Pennecamp was a good place to live.
They stopped at Key Largo Dry Rocks, as Cindy had suggested, and went down to the Christ of the Deep Statue, a copy of the Christ of the Abyss Statue in the Mediterranean Sea just off Genoa. It had been a gift from an Italian industrialist. It was a beautiful statue, about twenty feet beneath the surface, arms upraised, face sculpted with peace and serenity.
After waiting for the tourists from the hired dive boats to leave, they all paused around it. Cindy folded her hands in prayer and they all followed suit. A while later they rose, and Nate suggested that they leave the park behind and do some fishing in legal waters. They hadn’t made any plans for a restaurant for dinner that night, so a good catch of fresh snapper, dolphin fish or grouper would be good.
After just having met Old Henry, Kelsey was more in the mood for dolphin than grouper. Lying on the deck, feeling the air and the sun, she gave half her attention to the discussion going on between Larry, Nate and Jorge.
Jorge said that since they didn’t seem to be catching anything from the boat, they should think about doing a little spearfishing.
Kelsey glanced at Cindy, who was lying on a towel near her. She appeared to be sleeping.
Kelsey had almost dozed a few times herself, but she had brought Sheila’s diary topside with her to read as she lay in the sun. So far, she wasn’t getting anywhere. Sheila had written about the men she met, but there were too many of them to keep track of. Plus she often used initials that meant nothing to Kelsey. So far, especially since she had sheathed the diary in a plastic book saver, no one had asked her what she was reading. She often had a book or a sketch pad with her, and she loved reading, just as Cindy loathed it, so apparently no one thought it worth bothering to ask about.
Just as she had very nearly dozed off again, she came to a section that alerted her.
Saw the asshole my mother married again yesterday. Had to see him to go to the bank. He was all dressed up. Told me he was enjoying a new nightlife and meeting lots of women, real women. They found him appealing.
I don’t care what he says. He can take a bath and pour on a liter of cologne, but he’ll still smell like rotten fish. He always did. I told him so, too. Maybe that’s why I left the Keys before. I can’t stand the smell of rotten fish. Always reminds me of him. Reminds me of being a kid. Reminds me of the things he made me do.
I don’t want to remember.
Despite the heat of the sun, Kelsey felt cold. She closed the diary, biting her lip as she stared up at the sky. She should have known. She had been naive all her life. Sheila hadn’t really spelled it out, and neither had Izzy, but suddenly she knew the truth.
Andy Latham had molested Sheila when she had been a child. And if the things Izzy had said were true, he had done it with—if not her mother’s consent—at least her mother’s knowledge.
Poor Sheila! What a rotten life. And now…
Out of the blue, tears stung her eyes. Maybe just because she was so tired.
And maybe because she knew, just knew, that Sheila was dead. They could pray at the Christ Statue all day, and all they could hope to achieve for Sheila was peace.
She closed her eyes. For a moment she almost felt sick to her stomach. Then she was outraged. When Sheila had become an adult, she should have brought charges against her stepfather.
She pushed herself up on her arms, suddenly needing to get into the water again. Rinse off, cool down—except that she had chills. Rinse off and warm up, then. The water was warm today, especially here in the shallows.
She started, realizing that Nate was sitting next to her. Cindy was gone and Nate was there.
“Hey.”
“Hey. You okay?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“Really, really worried, though, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“So am I.”
She watched him. He hugged his knees to his chest. “Sheila was really going off in a bad way. I tried to talk to her, but…” He hesitated, then stared at Kelsey. “I really did care about her. You know…” Again he hesitated. “Well, you heard Larry last night. I had my fling with Sheila, too.”
“Yeah, I heard Larry.”
“I always loved you best, though.”
“Nate, you know how much I care about you. I always will. But you don’t have to apologize to me for sleeping with Sheila. We’ve been divorced for a very long time. And it was wrong to begin with, our getting married.”
He looked away for a moment, then back at her. “Why do you think we barely lasted a month? Was there…something the matter with me?”
“No!” Kelsey protested quickly. “Nate…it was me. I hurt you, and I had no right to. I didn’t really want to be married. I was just so hurt when Joe died, and I felt that…that I needed to belong to someone who was…mine, I guess. There wasn’t
a thing wrong with you then or now. You’re handsome, charming and dependable.”
He looked at the sky again, then lowered his head and his voice, as if someone might hear him. “Was I…”
“Were you what?”
“Okay in bed?” He sounded anxious.
“You were just fine,” she assured him.
He still looked uncertain. Then he made a funny face, wincing. “I don’t think that’s what Sheila would say. She made some comment that I think was out of a movie. That you needed a microscope and a tweezer to find anything if you wanted to have sex.”
Kelsey quickly lowered her head, determined to hide her smile. Leave it to Sheila.
“She was just being mean, Nate. You must know that. I mean…well, you made it through school, you were on the football team…you’ve been in locker rooms, and surely you’ve been with other women. You know what she said wasn’t true.”
“Didn’t do much for my ego, though.”
“I can imagine. But you know Sheila. She has a habit of striking below the belt. But…” She hesitated. “Nate, you know she was writing to me, calling me…and I’ve had a chance to read a few of the things she wrote in her diary. All these years, Sheila has been a bitch. She could be mean as a kid, but we all tolerated her. You know why?”
“We’re a pack of fools? There weren’t that many kids to hang around with?”
She shook her head. “I think Latham abused Sheila from the time she was a little kid. I’m pretty sure that’s why she had no respect for sex whatsoever. And I think that, even when she cared about people, she hurt them. She was probably afraid to care too much about anyone. And if you use people, then they usually don’t get a chance to use you in return.”
“You think it was that bad?”
“Nate, I don’t really know anything. Sheila kept things hidden from all of us. But I think that growing up must have been horrible for her.”
“And then her mother died.”
“Yeah. And she loved her mother, but I think maybe she wasn’t much better than Latham.”
“You mean her mother allowed whatever went on?”
“Maybe. Like I said, I don’t really know anything. But I don’t think you should let anything Sheila said upset you, or even give your ego the slightest scratch. Sometimes she just liked to strike out at people. I think she hurt you just because…it’s better to hurt someone than to be hurt by them.”
He squinted, looking up at the sun again.
“I could see it if we’d been headed for a monogamous situation or something like that. She just wound up being with me.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “I think…I think she wanted Dane. But Dane had come back not wanting anybody. Of course, though they came back at nearly the same time, I think Sheila had been through half the lower Keys before he even came on the scene. And she knew about him…knew that his life hadn’t been going real well. Do you think everybody has one great love in life, and even when it doesn’t work, it’s always there?”
“I don’t know. But the world is full of people. And a lot of them are very nice.” She paused, frowning at him. “Nate…are you saying that Sheila was the great love in your life and she crushed you?”
He started to laugh. “Hell no. You were the great love in my life. And you crushed me.”
Kelsey felt the color flood her face. “Oh God, Nate, I am so sorry.”
“Hey, that was years ago. Don’t go apologizing. You just gave me back my manhood. I’m grateful to hear from you that I didn’t suck as a lover. And I hope you’re not lying to make me feel better.”
“You didn’t suck as a lover. I did.”
He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “All you had to do was be and you were great. But…”
“But?”
“You weren’t really there. You were never really there. I thought…I thought there was someone else. Then you became a workaholic after we split up. You were never dating when I talked to you. Are you…”
“Am I what?”
“Nothing.”
“Am I what?”
“Gay?”
She felt her cheeks darken again. “No.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with it if you are.”
“I agree. But I’m not. And I do date. Just not often. You’re right. I have been something of a workaholic.”
He leaned closer to her suddenly. “You know, girls, more than men, experiment.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When Larry made that comment that Sheila had slept with everyone at the table, he meant everyone—and he wasn’t off by much. That is, if you’re being honest.”
“I still don’t get you.”
“I think Cindy and Sheila had a thing.”
“You think?”
“I do think so.”
“I don’t think you should say things unless you know they’re absolutely true,” Kelsey said. “And maybe not even then. If they did…experiment, as you say, it isn’t our business.”
“Sure. Sorry.”
“Dammit, Nate, don’t be sorry. I just think you should watch what you say.”
“Yeah, maybe. And I do believe Cindy is looking for the right guy, though the years are going by.”
“We’re not living in the Civil War era. We don’t become old maids at the age of seventeen or eighteen anymore,” she told him dryly.
“Right.” He shook his head. “Man, I’m sorry about Sheila. And I’m sorry as hell I let that asshole stepfather of hers get a fist on me! Wish I could have belted him back.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. The fact that you restrained yourself probably makes it a clearer case of assault.”
Nate laughed. “Hell, it had nothing to do with restraint. He caught me by surprise and I fell flat. And by then…the cops seemed to be right behind him. I will prosecute, though. For Sheila. Because she was a friend…even if she did set out to humiliate me. At least…well, now I understand.”
He rose suddenly. “They’re still talking about spearfishing. Are you coming?”
“Maybe I’ll come in later.” She grimaced. “I never really liked spearfishing.”
“Oh, yeah. Big difference. Catch a fish on a hook and let it flop around and asphyxiate, or shoot it cleanly with a spear.”
“We can, you know, just order in a pizza,” Kelsey said.
“Where’s your spirit of adventure, woman?” Nate asked. “We need to eat fish!”
“We can order anchovies on the pizza.”
He gave her a look of disgust. “We’re going to have fresh fish. And if you don’t catch any, you’re going to get to clean them.”
“Maybe I’ll join you guys. Give me a few minutes. And if all else fails, I will call for that pizza.”
He let out a sigh, still staring at her. “Good book?”
“Um.” She nodded and smiled at him, feeling a bit of a guilty twinge. Then she gave her attention back to the diary, aware that he walked off with a snort of impatience.
Men. Men, men, men. Can’t live with ’em, can’t get them when they’re nice and then shoot them when they become obnoxious.
The best ones out there—the cutest, the funniest, the most courteous—are all gay. They’re even the best built, half the time. They make the best friends, that’s for sure.
Maybe I should go that way myself. Try it, anyway. I can make anyone think I love them. It’s fun.
But I need more. Want more. Just what do I want? I should probably be in therapy. Good old Larry. He always told me I needed help. He’s too involved. He thinks he can fix me, and we’ll fall in love all over again, even get married again. Poor boy. I know I’m self-destructive. I’m trying to get even with someone. Or prove something. I really should get therapy. There’s something in me. Every time I get near someone, I have to prove I can seduce him. And I get something from everyone, like a little trophy. I think even the fact that women are supposed to be so much more selective and discreet makes me want to prove everyone wrong. I hope Kelsey com
es. I want to spill all this to her. I need to tell her how I’m suddenly afraid, even though I’m not sure why.
Once upon a time I might have been in love. But even then, the evil seed was blooming in me. I know some people would say it wasn’t my fault. But if it wasn’t my fault, why do I always feel so guilty?
Dane is at Nate’s all the time. Oops, there I go again.
Hafta have, hafta have. Hafta prove I can take what I want. I think it’s the chase. I need so much. But maybe not in this instance.
Okay, I will look into a therapist.
Kelsey set the diary down, feeling a strange chill sweep through her. Had Sheila made a play for Cindy just to experiment with her own prowess?
She stood, feeling acutely uncomfortable. She didn’t really want to know all the private thoughts, emotions and deeds, of her friends.
But she felt she had to finish the diary if she was ever to have a chance of finding Sheila.
Or of finding out what had happened to her.
Because, like Dane, she was beginning to sense that Sheila was dead.
She realized that, despite the chill that had swept through her, she was baking. At least she’d had the sense to apply sunblock. She looked around. The others were all in the water and the dive flag was up on the boat.
She walked aft. She saw Cindy’s head bob to the surface, then Larry’s. They were laughing about something.
Their voices carried over the water. “What the hell were you aiming at, Cindy? We can’t eat a cute little yellow tang for dinner.”
“You didn’t see the snapper?”
“We’re not down here to massacre fish, children,” Larry called back.
“I’ll get a bigger fish,” Cindy assured him.
Her head disappeared beneath the water.
Kelsey looked around. Since they had anchored, several boats had joined them at the sandy-bottomed fishing spot. The sun was glinting so brightly, she couldn’t make out much about them. The charter captains often came here. On the outskirts of Pennecamp, where fishing was allowed, there could be a good catch. Fish naively left the safety of Pennecamp and wandered into the area where they were fair game.