At Risk (29 page)

Jack grinned and held up a bag labeled
Red, White, and Blue Bagels.
“Tarzan bring peace offering from Big Apple.”

“Red, white, and blue bagels?”

“Not to mention Wawa coffee and the Sunday
News Journal
.” He leaned down and kissed her. She turned her head at the last instant so his lips brushed her cheek and eyebrow.

“I had a newspaper in my box at the end of my lane.”

“Tarzan know. Where Jane think he get this one?”

She laughed. “Enough with the theatrics. It’s too early. And why did it seem like a good idea to throw rocks at my window?”

He shrugged. “If the bike didn’t wake you, what was I supposed to do?”

“Knock?”

“I did knock. Back door and front. You were snoozing pretty good there, Lizzy.” He pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down. “High tide’s at one. I thought maybe you’d like to sneak out for a little trout fishing.”

She took cream cheese, jelly, butter, and a carton of half-and-half from the refrigerator. “I love bagels, but I’ve never had blue ones.”

Jack rose and fetched two cups and spoons. “If you don’t mind. I hate paper cups.” He poured coffee from a tall container into the mugs. “I got plain, onion, and all-grain, but they’re the normal color for bagels. I got them from a little bodega off Broadway. I think the red, white, and blue is a new American’s attempt to show patriotism. If I had to guess, I think the owner was Tibetan or a Laplander. Anyway, he makes good bagels.”

“A Laplander? What would make you think that?” she asked, knowing she was being set up for more of Jack’s nonsense. Broken window or not, she was glad to see him this morning. More than glad, she was delighted.

“I don’t know, maybe the live reindeer at the register or—” Liz threw a bagel at him. He caught it, and they both laughed.

Within a few moments, the awkwardness that had marred their last day together vanished and Liz found herself telling him about her emergency flight to Texas and her mother’s death. He listened, as he always had, not saying anything until she was finished.

“So, while I can’t say that there was any deathbed reunion between me and Patsy, it was good to patch things up with Crystal.”

Jack licked cream cheese off his fingertips. “It sounds as though she’s found something good.”

“Henry’s nice. Dull, sweet, and nice. I’d given up hope of her ever dating anybody normal, let alone marrying again.”

“It just goes to prove that even the good ones can be captured with the right bait.”

“Crystal?” Liz asked.

“Nope.” Jack chuckled. “The fifty thousand Henry won in Vegas. Money strips a man of his wits faster than anything else.”

“I suppose that means that you’re better off poor?”

He grinned. “Didn’t say that, either. Money you work for is one thing, windfall’s something else. They say most big lottery winners end up broke and unhappy.”

“So you don’t buy lottery tickets?”

“Nope. I don’t like the odds. I prefer to bet my hard-earned dollars on a sure thing.” He laid his hand over hers, closing his fingers around hers and turning her hand to kiss the underside of her wrist.

“Jack,” she murmured.

He pulled her out of her chair and into his lap. His kiss sent a tingle of excitement to the tips of her toes. “Mmmm,” he said. “You taste like onion.”

“I thought we were going fishing.”

“The fish can wait.” He kissed her again.

This time they made it to her bed.

The afternoon on Jack’s boat was carefree. They caught a half-dozen trout, and drank a bottle of red wine from a local winery. Once the fish stopped biting, Jack took the boat in closer to shore and anchored.

“Ready for a swim?” he asked Liz.

“No. The water’s not warm enough yet.”

“I knew it. All that education made you soft.” He stripped off his jeans and shirt and dove in.

Liz contented herself with stretching out on a blanket on the bow. “Do you have any hamburger or liver?” she asked. “If I throw out a little chum, maybe we could lure a few sharks—”

“No sharks,” he said in mock horror. After a few minutes, he climbed the ladder at the stern, wrapped a towel around his hips, and joined her on the bow deck.

“I expect you to repair my window when we get home,” she reminded him. “There are panes from a matching one in the barn loft. My carpenter wanted to haul it to the dump, but I’ve got too much of my dad in me. If you remember, he couldn’t throw anything out.”

“Will do,” Jack promised, stretching out beside her. “I like having you here, Lizzy.” He nuzzled her neck, and when she laughed, he kissed her lips. “I could never forget you.”

“Like a bad case of poison ivy?” she teased.

“Exactly.”

She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the waves lapping against the boat hull and the cries of seagulls overhead. “I like being here,” she said.

“With me?”

“With you.”

“Even if you did try to kill me this morning?”

“I did not try to kill you. You told me that I should have a gun, so I have one. What can you expect when I wake up to some wild man breaking my windows?”

“Guilty. It didn’t work like that in that movie.”

“What movie?” A fish jumped about ten yards from the boat.

“I don’t remember the title.
Sleeping in Seattle
?” She chuckled. “There were no rocks flying through windows in
Sleepless in Seattle
.”

“It was one of those movies. The hero pitches the rocks. The heroine leans out in her lacy black nightie.”

“Right. I hope you saw what I sleep in.”

“The same as that girl in
She’s Got Mail
.”

“No. Jack, you are hopeless when it comes to movies.”

“No, I’m sure I’m right. Mom’s got the DVD. We can borrow it and watch it at your house. Is your TV in your bedroom?”

“No. You were in my bedroom,” Liz answered. “Did you see a television or a DVD player there?”

“We’ll have to remedy that. Or we could watch it here on the
Dolphin
. I like to watch movies in bed. Sometimes I even watch X-rated ones.”

“By yourself, I’m sure.” She handed him a tube of sunblock and rolled onto her stomach so that he could rub it on her back.

“Who else would I watch them with?”

“I can’t imagine.” She groaned as he rubbed the cream into her skin. “That feels heavenly. I haven’t had anybody do that for me since Katie went to Ireland. You’d like her, Jack. Strangely enough, I think she’d like you too.”

“Strangely?” He made a sound of amusement.

“You have to admit, you’re one of a kind. More of a nineteenth-century man than a twenty-first. But I suppose a lot of watermen are.”

“Your dad included?”

“Daddy especially. He was such a great father—when he wasn’t drinking. And even when he was, he never lifted a hand to Crystal or me.”

“Wish I could say that about Pop. Although I have to admit that George and I deserved a taste of the belt now and then. And Mom was the real disciplinarian. If you didn’t jump when she said jump—look out.”

She smiled, remembering some of the mischief the Rafferty boys had gotten into. “Do you mean the time you two chained the bumper of a police car to a post at the end of the dock? Or when you dumped the half ton of aging fish in the mayor’s cellar?”

Jack grinned. “I’m innocent. George made me do it.”

“I’m sure. I don’t think either of you ever grew up, not really.” She applied sunblock to her knees and calves. Curiosity made her ask, “What were you doing in New York, anyway? I wouldn’t think the fishing business would take you to the city. You always said you hated cities.”

“I did, but they have their uses.”

“You still haven’t told me why you went. Is it a secret?”

“Yes.”

She sat up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s a terrible habit of mine. I—”

“It’s all right, Lizzy. I can trust you.” He hesitated a few seconds. “I had some business to conduct, but I also went to see George.”

She glanced at him. “Your brother? I thought he was in Smyrna prison.”

Jack took her hand, turned it over, and rubbed her palm with his thumb. “George won’t be coming home. He’s gone into the witness protection program. I haven’t even told Mom and Pop yet.”

“He what?” Liz’s eyes widened in surprise. “Isn’t that only for—”

“Gangsters? I suppose, but it’s mostly for people who are willing to testify about what they’ve seen other people do. Sometimes knowing too much can get you killed.”

“Is this about drugs?”

“It’s about money.”

Unease made her suddenly chilled. She stood and picked up her towel. “I think I’ve had enough sun.” Jack steadied her as she made her way back to the main deck. “I won’t say anything, of course,” she said. “But does this mean he can’t come home? Not ever? Your parents—”

“George didn’t want them to know until it was a done deal. Something bad happened up in Smyrna. Luckily, George had a buddy to help him out. But he couldn’t count on that a second time. Next time, he might end up dead.”

“Where are they sending him? No, don’t tell me. That was a stupid question.” She pulled a shirt on over her bathing suit. “I don’t want to know.”

“Good, because I don’t know either.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s for the best. If he did get out early, he’d be right back in the business again. This way, he has a chance.”

“Tough for your parents.”

He nodded. “In a way, but not so hard as burying him, or knowing that he’s rotting inside that concrete cage. The sound of those steel doors shutting—it gets to you. If they’d given me twenty years . . .” He took a deep breath and went up the steps to the bridge. “I’m not cut out for life in a box.”

“But George won’t be in prison now, will he? He’ll be protected, set up in a new life someplace else?”

“So he told me. They want him to testify against some nasty people. That’s why he’s in a safe house in New York City for a while. He told the feds he wouldn’t agree to it if we couldn’t spend some time together first.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. I always liked George. But he was crazy, even as a kid.” She folded her arms. “Not in a bad way, but he scared me. So did you.”

“You had reason to be scared. Maybe you still do.” He started the engine. “I’d best get you home. I’ll tell Mom and Pop tonight. It’s not something I’m looking forward to, but the sooner, the better.”

“Thanks for sharing it with me. I won’t let you down.”

“In a few months, it will be common knowledge. Word gets around in prison. Hopefully, by then George will be a few thousand miles away with a new name and a new identity.” He gestured to her. “Come on up here.”

She joined him, and he stepped back to let her take the wheel. “It handles like a dream,” she said after they’d gone about half a mile.

“George wants you to have his boat. He told me to run it up and tie it at your dock. I thought I’d better tell you, instead of letting you come out and find it—after the last boat you found there.”

“That’s great. But I can’t accept it as a gift. Let me pay for it, and give the money to your mother.”

“Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“George loves that boat. He’d never sell it. If he wants you to have it, that’s good enough for me. And for Mom.”

“You Raffertys are a stubborn bunch.”

“Yep, so I’ve been told.”

“Michael’s driving up to New England this summer. He’s asked me to go with him.”

Jack’s arms tightened around her. “I don’t know much about your neighbor, but what I’ve seen, I don’t like.”

“He’s more than a neighbor. He’s a good friend.”

“How good of a friend?”

“We haven’t . . . well,” she stammered. “Not like it is between us. He’s a nice guy, and he’s had terrible luck.”

“Are you going with him?” His voice hardened. “Don’t go, Lizzy.”

“Are you telling me or asking me?”

“Take it either way.”

“I haven’t decided yet.” She let him take back the wheel. “I’ve known Michael over two years. And you—”

“All your life.”

“This time. This time, I’ve known you . . . what? Three weeks? I’m not ready to make any commitments, Jack.”

“Have I asked for any?”

“No, you haven’t. And that means I’m still free to take a vacation with a friend. He’s handicapped. You’ve seen him. It’s not the same.”

“I’ve seen him,” Jack said. “But handicapped or not, it’s more than friendship. If you go with him . . .”

“Are you giving me ultimatums?”

“Maybe. Take it for what it’s worth.”

She returned to the main deck, found her twill shorts, and put them on. “You can’t tell me what to do,” she said.

“I just did. Don’t go with him. And if you do, don’t expect to find me on your porch waiting for you when you get back.”

The call came at eight that evening. Jack had long gone and Liz was lingering over photos of the New-foundland breeder’s most recent litter of puppies. She checked to see who was calling, recognized the Virginia exchange, and picked up on the third ring.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes. Thomas? Is that you? How’s the—”

“There’s been an accident,” Amelia’s husband said. His voice was clipped, each word cut off precisely.

Liz blinked. Her hand holding the receiver felt detached, as though it belonged to someone else. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare. “Is . . . Amelia hurt?”

Thomas began to cry.

Stunned, the Game Master stared at the front page of the
Delaware State News.
The two-inch-high headlines read: “CRAB TRAPS YIELD GRUESOME DISCOVERY.” A color photograph featured two local boys holding fishing poles and standing next to a stack of commercial crab pots. Taking up half of the page, the article related how the teenagers had snagged a crab trap while fishing in the backwaters of a creek leading off the Delaware Bay. Police confirmed that the wire cage contained human remains. There were additional quotes from a retired medical inspector and a separate piece on forensics and the scientific advances that could identify bodies and convict murderers years after a crime had been committed.

“No! No!” The paper fell from the Game Master’s numb fingers to drift to the floor in scattered sections. Rage consumed him. It wasn’t possible that he could be robbed of his prize by mindless teenagers. The bones were his. His alone. He dropped to his knees and rocked back and forth, fists clenched, mouth gaping wide in a silent scream. He would find them. Make them pay. Peel the skin from their flesh while they were still alive.