Pearl Cove (11 page)

Hannah glanced over at Archer, wondering if he had seen the snakes or even knew they were
poisonous. In the first instant of focusing on him, her stomach clenched: Lens wet suit
was unique. Like a predatory fish, Lens dive suit was dark blue on the back and creamy
silver along the belly. To a diver swimming above or below, the wet suit blended in with
the lighter ceiling or the darker sea floor. She had seen Len swimming many times. In the
water his strong arms made up for his useless legs. Diving gave him the freedom that he
craved more than the morphine and booze that dulled the corrosive pain of his body. And
his mind.

Its not Len, Hannah told herself fiercely.

Len was dead, beyond the reach of her fear or pity or sad dreams of what could have been
if only she had been able to reach into the man she had married and lance the abscesses on
his soul. But she hadnt been what he needed. Whatever chance there might have been for Len
to heal the darkness within himself had vanished when he took pity on an innocent girl he
had seduced and married her.

Forcing away the clammy veil of memory, Hannah looked again at the man who drifted nearby.
Yes, there was a resemblance. Both men were broad shouldered, with unusual strength in
their backs and shoulders and arms. Once, Lens legs had been powerful, too. Once, he had
eaten the ground with his long strides, pulling her along at a trot until breath was a
knife in her ribs. Once, he

Again Hannah wrenched her thoughts back to the here and now, to Archer and the vast
turquoise sea. And murder. She never forgot that.

Yet in the blue-on-blue dream of the ocean, she had a hard time focusing on death as an
absolute evil. There were worse things than sliding into the radiant blue, feeling each
shift of tone as a separate caress, shades of turquoise dissolving her slowly, slowly,
until her eyes finally closed...

And opened as pearls, sightless and serene. No grave on earth could be more beautiful, no
memorial more perfect.

And no man could be more compelling in her eyes than Archer, a man she shouldnt want at
all. Swimming in the serene womb of the ocean, she could admit to herself what had always
been true: she wanted Archer Donovan. She wanted the strength and the gentleness that
surprised her each time he revealed it. A gentleness that disarmed her, made her yearn...
and then his ruthlessness would surface, sending a chill that went all the way to her soul.

She couldnt risk her unborn children on a man who could shut off his emotions between one
heartbeat and the next. Like Len, so much like Len.

And yet... and yet...

Different.

Len had made a naive girl dream. Archer made a woman hunger, even though experience had
taught her how quickly such hunger vanished in the face of lifes demands. Like a comet
across night, sexual desire was wild, beautiful, and utterly doomed. No one risked their
future on a comet, but surely she could risk a few days, a handful of weeks, however long
it took to drink the wine of passion to its last bittersweet drop.

Surely she could risk that much. All she would lose riding the comet with him was time,
time that would pass in any case, with or without the blazing arc of passion.

The risk was hers. The choice was hers. She was no longer a girl whose possibilities were
limited by her parents. She was no longer a wife whose possibilities were limited by her
husband. She was a woman who answered only to herself.

She didnt have to marry in order to enjoy passion. She was free.

An angular line at the edge of Hannahs vision sliced through her reverie. She turned
toward it, focusing eyes and mind. At first she saw only the graceful undulations of sea
snakes. Then she saw what could have been a right angle.

Even before her eyes were certain, she yanked her tow line twice and released it. Above
and ahead of her the ceiling churned as the luggers propellers kicked over, turning
against the water rather than passively drifting. The signal to stop had been passed to
Nakamori, who would attempt to hold the lugger stationary on the shifting surface of the
sea.

The instant Hannah let go of her line, Archer swung toward her. He released his own line
and finned after her. When he saw where she was heading, he doubled his speed. It wasnt
the rectangle of the oyster cage that galvanized him. It was the graceful, deadly
streamers of snakes playing above the cage.

Hannah reached the cage first. Finning rhythmically, easily, she approached the snakes
even as she ignored them. One of them swam gracefully through the cage as though taunting
the stolid oysters within. The other two snakes simply fluttered like ribbons in a dreamy
wind, ignoring everything. Since nothing preyed on the snakes, they had no fear of
anything, even man.

While Hannah snapped an inflatable float onto the cage, the natural drift of the tide over
the sea floor slid the two snakes away from the cage like decoys painted on a carnival
conveyer belt. The third snake, caught by whatever passed for curiosity or play in its
reptilian mind, twined around the cage for a while before swimming free and drifting off
with the restless tide.

Archer took a breath, discovered that it had been too long, and took another. Bubbles
whirled around him with the grace of laughter, but he wasnt feeling humorous. Hannah must
have known how deadly the snakes were, yet she had gone swimming with them as though they
were pets. The feeling of helplessness he had had while he watched was as bad as anything
he had ever known.

She triggered a carbon dioxide cartridge and watched the rapidly growing yellow float
shoot to the surface. A thin line trailed down from the float, anchoring it to the cage.
Soon a heavier line would sink down from the lugger. She would attach it and then let
herself be towed up with the cage.

Wishing he could haul her off upstairs and yell at her for being a reckless idiot, Archer
swam past

Hannah. Without a glance in her direction, he started examining the heavy wire strands of
the cable that had once connected the cage to a grid of huge floats. He didnt bother to
check the health of the oysters jumbled inside the framework. The water wasnt deep enough
or cold enough to kill them. Even if it had been, the oysters and their potential treasure
werent what fueled the urgency driving him.

He needed to find out as much as he could as quickly as he could. He couldnt shake the
certainty that Pearl Cove wasnt a healthy place to be for Hannah. Or himself. The accident
in the shed had been a warning as plain as a shout.

After a few moments Archer found the end of the cable snarled beneath the heavy cage. He
shoved and pushed, trying to free enough of the cable to see the severed end. If it had
been pulled apart by the force of the cyclone, the cable would be ragged and frayed, with
fine wires going every which way, because each strand would have snapped separately.

It took only a glance to see that the end of the cable was as smooth as glass.

Cut, Archer said curtly.

He yanked the screen door shut behind him and stalked through Hannahs living room with his
borrowed fins jammed under his arm.

What? she asked, following him. The cables. What are you talking about?

The cables were cut. Thats why the raft came apart in the cyclone. The cables that werent
cut somehow pulled free of the grid. If I thought it was worth the exercise, Id check the
ruined grid cables. But my gut already knows what Id find.

Hannah hesitated, then gestured for him to follow her into the bathroom. You think they
were cut, too?

I sure as hell do.

She dumped her fins in the bathtub and ran her hands up and down her wet suit as though
trying to rub up a little warmth. She was always cool after a long dive, but not like
this. Not queasy chills. Why would anyone slash the rafts apart? Thats killing the goose
that lays the golden eggs.

Lens gold. Not theirs. Archers fins made a smacking sound as they landed on top of Hannahs.

She stepped into the tub, grabbed the shower wand, and began rinsing off the wet suit she
still wore. Is it that simple?

Greed usually is. The question is, who? Did Len talk with you about his plans to sell the
special pearls?

He didnt plan to sell, she said as she bent over to rinse out her hair.

Ever? Archer asked.

I dont think so. Her voice was muffled by water. The rainbow blacks were... a religion to
him, I guess. As close as he came to God.

What did he want from his religion?

Want? What do you mean?

Len wasnt raised in any church. Converts almost always have an agenda. Wealth, acceptance,
power, happiness, peace, health...

Health.

For a minute there was only the sound of water dripping and splashing on porcelain.

I didnt mean religion in the literal sense, Hannah said. A church, a set of ceremonies,
that sort of thing.

Yet you called pearls his religion.

She shut off the water and combed wet fingers through her dripping hair. Its the only way
I could think of to describe his intensity about them. He collected and perfected the
Black Trinity as though his next breath depended on it.

How insane was he in the last few years? Archer asked quietly. Hannah bit her lip. On a
scale of one to ten? Yes.

An eight, she said bleakly. Some days, worse. A nine, maybe. But he wasnt consistently
insane. Except on his very worst days when he locked himself in the shed he could talk
very intelligently about the problems of periculture and the nuances of the
pearl-marketing monopoly.

What were his crazy areas?

Black pearls. The rainbow kind. He could never have enough, or have them perfect enough.
It was an obsession.

She slicked water from her wet suit. No, it was beyond obsession. It was a sickness.
Except for the pearls that escaped his security measures, he destroyed any rainbow pearl
that was less than perfect. Considering the rarity of the rainbows, he must have ground
several million dollars into dust. And this was at a time when we could barely meet our
bills.

Archer whistled softly and thought of what Kyle had discovered in Lens files: the articles
on pearls as a medicine for every ill. Did he ever talk about pearls as a cure for certain
diseases?

He talked about pearls as his little miracles but he didnt take them like vitamins or
anything. At least, I dont think he did. He could have. Some of the Chinese divers grind
up the inferior, usual kind of pearls and drink them in a potion.

What about the Black Trinity? It must have represented something very special to him.

Hannah frowned. Last week, when I was color-matching the strands of the Black Trinity yet
again something he made me do at least twice a week I said it couldnt be any better. The
last harvest hadnt added even one pearl to the strands.

Odd. Most matches can be better.

Thats the beauty of the rainbow pearls. The orient the mix of color overtones on all the
rainbows was usually quite close. All that really had to be matched was size, surface
perfection, and shape.

That kind of identity was rare, except with clones. Archer made a mental note to look into
experiments to clone oysters. Go on, he said.

Frowning, Hannah slicked back her hair with her fingers. Still salty. She turned on the
water and bent over to rinse more thoroughly. Her words mixed with the silvery splash and
drip of water. Len refused to believe that the new harvest of experimental pearls couldnt
improve the size or perfection of the Black Trinity. He started screaming at me to look
again, it wasnt perfect, it couldnt be perfect, because if the Black Trinity was whole, he
would be, too.

A chill went over Archers skin that had nothing to do with his recent dive. That explains
what he wanted from his religion. A miracle.

Thats... Insane? Archer asked softly. Weve already agreed that Len wasnt a poster boy for
mental health.

Hannah straightened, dripping and flushed, and handed Archer the shower wand. Your turn,
she said, stepping out of the tub.

Archer stepped in, picked up the wand, and began rinsing off his diving gear. Tell me
about Lens

enemies.

Everyone he met became an enemy, sooner or later. Frustrated, Archer raked his hand
through his rapidly drying hair. Salt made his scalp itch, but he noticed it only at a
distance. He had more pressing problems than dried brine irritating his skin. No matter
how he arranged the information in his mind, it came up with red flags sticking out all
over.

He held his wrist under the water, rinsing off the watch that had gone diving with him.
Seconds were fleeing while he looked, seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into
hours, hours turning into too much time lost and not enough information found. He was no
closer to an answer than he had been when he arrived yesterday.

The watch told him that he had wasted several hours diving. Maybe it hadnt been a complete
waste. Before diving he had guessed sabotage. Now he knew it. What he didnt know was who
and why.

My guess is that it took more than one man to cut those cables before the full force of
the cyclone hit. Archer flipped the fins over, cleaning them thoroughly before tossing
them out on the floor. He didnt worry about making a mess. The tile floor slanted down to
a small grate, which funneled water into the darkness beneath the house. Standard plumbing
in the rural tropics for everything but toilets. Are any of Lens enemies good friends with
each other?

Are we talking about personal enemies or business competitors? Hannah asked, using her
fingers to comb her wet, seal-dark hair away from her face.

Archer thought about the fluid alliances among pearl producers. The Chinese, the Japanese,
the French, the Indonesians, and the Australians all had periculture ventures. Even the
Americans had set up a pearl-farming business in Hawaii.

Lens coalition of small farmers wasnt much by itself, but given the right opening, the
independent pearlers could shift the balance of marketing power in one way or another by
joining with one of the larger alliances.

No doubt that was what Len had been trying to do in his sane periods, which meant that any
of the big pearling operations might have decided they could live well without him. The
quickest way to find out was to catch the murderer and convince him to talk.

Personal, Archer said. He knew more about the rest than Hannah did.

She opened her mouth, hesitated, and sighed. Except for me, Len didnt know anyone
personally, only through the pearling business.

Too bad. Murder up close is a real personal kind of crime.

Bending to get his head and shoulders within reach of the wand, he let the tepid water
sluice over him. While he rubbed his face, he thought about shaving his beard. Teddy
Yamagata was right. A beard itched in the tropics. But then, so did razor burn, which was
what had made Archer give up shaving in the first place; he had inherited his fathers
touchy skin.

When Archer cleared the water from his eyes enough to see again, he nearly dropped the
wand. While he had been sluicing off, Hannah had been peeling out of her dive gear. She
was down to tropical Australias second uniform a handful of string and three patches of
indigo fabric that were smaller than his palm.

He had seen women wearing less, but he had never wanted one of them more.

Then Hannah turned away and he saw bruises along her left shoulder and hip. He remembered
last night, when he had knocked her off her feet and slammed her to the floor while pieces
of roof rained down. He had shielded her head from the hard tile, but not the rest of her.
There simply hadnt been time.

Im sorry, Archer said.

The emotion in his voice surprised her as much as his words. For Lens enemies? she asked,
looking over her shoulder.

No. For this.

Hannah didnt understand until she felt his fingertips tracing her bruises with a
gentleness that loosened her knees. She started to speak, couldnt, and tried again. Not
your fault, she managed.

The hell it wasnt. I knocked you down.

Only to protect me.

Damn poor job I did.

She turned fully around. Dont be ridiculous. Just because I was too rattled to thank you
doesnt mean that I dont know what happened. Im still rattled. No one ever did anything
like that for me.

Knock you down? he asked ironically.

Protect me at their own expense, she shot back. My parents were too busy saving the
Yanomami, and Len well, Len figured he had done enough by marrying me. If I got into
trouble after that, I could getoutofitthesamewayIgotin.

Alone.

Archer wondered if her pregnancy, illness, and miscarriage had been the kind of trouble
she was supposed to take care of alone. He couldnt ask without raising more questions than
he was willing to answer. How he knew about her past history was foremost among those
questions.

Shutting off the water, he stepped out of the tub. He expected her to back away from him,
because the bathroom was small. Instead she went back to collecting wet diving gear.

Is your shoulder stiff? he asked, looking at the bruise while she bent down to snag the
last fin. No.

Your hip?

Im not a china doll. Hannah straightened and gave him a hard look. She was amused,
irritated, and touched by his concern. And being within inches of him was making her heart
beat as though she was swimming too fast. Im an active, physical kind of woman, Archer. I
get bumps, bruises, cuts, and scrapes all the time.

Not from me.

She made an exasperated sound. Take off the ruddy dive gear so I can hang it on the
verandah to dry.

With a hidden smile, Archer unzipped the borrowed wet suit and began peeling it off.

Hannah had spent her life surrounded by men of many races, athletic men, hunters in the
Amazon and divers in Australia, men whose bodies were honed by the demanding physical
necessities of their lives, men who often wore little more than a pouch to cover their
sex. She was quite accustomed to the naked muscularity of a fit male.

And she was staring at Archer like a convent girl turned loose on a beach in Rio de
Janeiro.

When she realized it, she forced herself to look away, or at least to look at him from the
corners of her eyes under cover of her eyelashes. Then she saw the bruises striping his
back and forgot everything else.

Why didnt you tell me you were hurt! You had no business diving with

Im fine, Archer interrupted without looking up from his dive gear.

Bloody hell youre fine. Your back looks like someone worked you over with a club.

So does your shoulder and hip.

Thats different.

Yeah? He turned and looked at her. How?

I know my limits.

Thats a relief, he muttered, not believing a word of it. I do know mine. My shoulder is a
little stiff, thats all. The rest is just colorful.

A little stiff. What a load of bull dust. Bull dust? Is that what they call it here?

They call it stupid here when you dive injured. Just strapping on the dive tanks must have
hurt you.

Archer heard what Hannah hadnt put in words: the thought of him hurting made her angry. If
she could have taken his pain, she would have. The fact that he had six inches and eighty
pounds on her and easily twice her pure physical strength didnt seem to matter to her at
all.

Amusement and something much more intense rippled in his voice when he spoke. He liked the
concern in her eyes. He would like even better to turn it into sexual need. You saw me
dive. Was anything wrong?

She took a deep breath, ready to chew him up one side and down the other for being a macho
idiot. Was it, Hannah? he asked calmly. Her breath came out in a rush. No. You dive like
you were born to it. Its just... He waited.

No one ever... She moved one hand jerkily. Im not used to being... Her voice died. Helped?
Protected. I dont need it. Everyone needs it.

Even you? she retorted.

I must.

What do you mean? she asked warily. There was something beneath his calm that made her
breath catch.

You raced to beat me to that cage full of snakes.

I didnt know if you knew that they were... um... Her voice faded again. She almost smiled
despite the turmoil that had come when she saw his bruises and remembered how he got them.
Protecting her.

And now he had boxed her in quite neatly, using her own reasons, her own rules.

You wondered if I knew the snakes were lethal? Archer asked with superficial calm. As in
the deadliest damn venom on the planet?

Um, yes.

He took a half step forward. It was all the small room allowed. The palms of his hands
slid across her cheeks as his fingers probed through her short, wet hair. He tilted her
face up so he could see into her dark, dark eyes.

Lets make sure I understand what youre saying, he said. You can play with sea snakes so
that I wont have to, but I cant take a few lumps for you when the roof caves in.