“Have you seen Lucky since Sarah fixed her hair?”
Greg’s question caught Cody totally off guard. He’d been expecting a scathing remark directed at him. Maybe he wasn’t reading his brother as well as he thought.
“No, I came right upstairs, but Sarah told me about the new hairdo.”
Greg got to his feet. “Come on. She’s feeding the seals.”
Cody followed his brother downstairs, walking beside him as they crossed the yard, passing the pool where a volunteer was walking the shark that Lucky had named Rudy. Behind the screen of oleander bushes was the area where the orphaned seals were kept. Nomo saw them from across the pool and waved. The woman beside him, with Dodger at her elbow, paused as she scooped a mackerel from the bucket, frowning when she spotted Cody.
“Shit! Lucky doesn’t look like the same person, does she?”
“Nope,” Greg responded. “And she doesn’t act anything like the woman I rescued, either.”
Cody studied Lucky as she fed the rambunctious seal pups, while Greg told him about her computer skills and her swimming ability. “Something’s funny here. The last thing she seems like is a two-bit hooker.”
Cody couldn’t disagree. Right now Lucky looked so wholesome and natural, sitting on the side of the pool, her long legs dangling in the water as she fed a particularly friendly pup. It wasn’t hard to see why his brother had fallen for her.
“I like my drug theory,” Cody said. “You found her in the twilight zone of Hana. Who knows what goes on back there?”
“I’ll bet Tony Traylor knows exactly what goes on back there.”
Again, Cody couldn’t disagree.
* * * * *
I
t was late in the afternoon by the time Lucky finished her turn walking Rudy around the pool. The young shark was more despondent than he’d been the first day, and she knew that he was losing the will to live. But he was still friendly with her, rubbing up against her and letting her put her hand in his mouth. That’s when she’d discovered the loose teeth, and one sharp fang had come out in her hand.
The tooth was a triangle serrated on two sides. About two inches long, it appeared to have broken off at the base. She couldn’t figure out how Rudy, still so young that his dark tiger stripes had yet to fade into the more muted gray of an adult, had lost a tooth and had several others that were loose.
Greg would know, Lucky decided as she climbed out of the pool and handed Nomo her air tank. She paused to give Dodger a quick pat. Since the scene on the beach last night, Greg had been polite, speaking to her only when necessary. The minute they’d arrived at the institute, he’d dumped her on Nomo.
She dried off and changed clothes in the annex adjacent to the pools, carefully setting aside Rudy’s tooth. From now on she intended to dress more carefully and behave herself. She was justifiably proud of the way she’d resisted temptation last night. It would have been easy—and heavenly—to have given into Greg. But she didn’t want him to think she was nothing but a tramp. She wanted to be someone special, and yearned for Greg to realize this with a desperation that actually frightened her.
Greg wasn’t upstairs in his office when Lucky entered with Dodger at her heels, but Rachel was there. She was gathering up her things, apparently leaving for her late afternoon excursion on the research boat
Atlantis.
Lucky ignored Rachel’s scathing glare and went over to Greg’s computer terminal.
Rachel came up behind her, and Lucky tensed, running her fingers through her damp hair, nervously making certain the
bald patch was covered. Rachel reached past Lucky and picked up the photograph of Jessica.
“Greg was crazy about her—absolutely crazy. He still loves Jessica. That’s why he keeps her picture on his desk. No one will ever take her place.”
She put the photo back with a thunk and left. Lucky got the message. She was not replacing his wife. “I’m not trying to take her place,” she told Dodger. “I want to be better than she was.”
It took her a few minutes to log on and read her messages. The researcher in Australia had suggested she try putting her hand in Rudy’s mouth as a preliminary test of how likely he would be to let her use the surgical staple gun on him. She reported her success, and just in case Greg didn’t know the reason, told the Aussie about Rudy’s teeth.
Greg appeared some time later, “Good boy,” he said to Dodger, then sat down without a word to Lucky.
She was less than a foot from him, so close she could see the pinpricks of moisture across his brow from the grilling sunshine outside. But she might as well have been on another planet. When she finished on-line, she shut down the syst
em and began to speak. “Greg, I
—”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Garth Bradford?” he cut her off.
A swift shadow of anger swept across his face, then vanished, his usual unreadable expression returning. But she sensed the dark undercurrent of anger moving through him like a subterranean stream. He was definitely making an effort to hold his anger in check.
“I meant to but
…
things got out of hand and you swam away. Where did you go? I was worried.”
“Don’t ever worry about me. I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone fussing over me.” His eyes warned her not to mother him, to mind her own business. “I swam around to the point and back. When I got home the house was dark. You couldn’t have been too worried.”
She didn’t tell him that she’d waited to hear his return before allowing herself to fall asleep, realizing he might resent her even more. Instead, she briefly explained what she and Sarah had done. He didn’t seem particularly pleased, and she wondered if anything she did could please him except sex. He certainly didn’t have a sense of humor. When she’d tried to tease him about not performing, he’d taken it wrong and had gotten all huffy.
“If
Missing!
airs my story, I think someone will know me, don’t you?”
“Probably,” he replied grudgingly. “I thought you wanted to be a new person.”
“I do, but I have to know if I have a family.” Lucky knew better than to say she would never turn her back on her family the way he had. “It’s like Rudy looking for his mother.”
“Do you know what you’re doing? You’re projecting. That’s a psychological term meaning you’re taking your feelings, your fears, and transferring them to someone else. In this case, Rudy. Believe me, that shark’s mother couldn’t care less. They’re not like whales who live in pods and take care of each other.”
Lucky knew he was mistaken about Rudy, but Greg was on a roll now and waiting him out seemed prudent.
“A shark travels alone. He’s nothing more than an eating machine. Tiger sharks are the worst. They’re one of the few sharks who eat other sharks. Rudy probably ate his mother.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped. “Rudy wouldn’t do that. Nomo spotted a shark in the bay yesterday. I’ll bet it’s Rudy’s mother.”
“This is Hawaii. Shark stories make up half the island’s
l
ore. That’s because we have so damn many sharks. If there’s one in the bay, it isn’t Rudy’s mother.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she hedged, unwilling to concede but knowing she sounded nutty because she
felt
Rudy telling her things.
“
No matter how bad the news, I want to know who I am. I have to find my family, and I can’t help believing Rudy does, too.”
This time he didn’t argue with her. If anything, his gaze softened as he slowly nodded. Greg turned to resume his work, but Lucky stopped him.
“Look at this
.
” In her palm was Rudy’s tooth, g
leaming like polished ivory. “
I put my hand in Rudy’s mouth and discovered several of his teeth are loose. This one fell out.”
“Why in hell would you put your hand in a shark’s mouth?”
“The researcher in Australia said it’s a good way to test Rudy’s suitability for the staple gun.”
“I risk my ass to save your life, and you try to give it back by putting your hand in a shark’s mouth!” He was furious now, making her sorry she’d shown him the tooth.
“I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful, but I thought it best to prep Rudy for the staple procedure.”
“There isn’t going to be any procedure. Fire a staple gun, and that shark will go ballistic. We’ll have to fish out what’s left—if there’s anything left—with a leaf net.”
“But Rudy didn’t even flinch when I tested the rest of his teeth to see if any others were loose.”
He grimaced as if he were actually in pain. “You tested
all
his teeth?”
“Yes,” Lucky replied, proud that Rudy trusted her enough to let her wiggle all his teeth. “He has razor-sharp teeth.”
“All the better to eat you with.”
She didn’t respond. He was so furious now that she had no idea how to deal with him.
“All the better to eat you with,”
he repeated. “Sound familiar?”
She shook her head, knowing this must be a mongoose thing again.
It was frightening to realize how many things she didn’t know.
“ ‘All the better to eat you with’ is from
Little Red Riding Hood,
a well-known fairy tale.”
“I don’t know it, but I’m imagining a small car with a red
hood, probably a convertible, riding through the cane fields. Close?”
Greg actually smiled, shaking his head, and she couldn’t help smiling back. There was so much she’d have to relearn. If he’d be patient, she’d love to have him teach her.
“Why are Rudy’s teeth loose? Is there something wrong with him?”
Two beats of silence. No doubt he was counting his blessings, and she with all her dumb questions wasn’t among them. But if she didn’t ask, she would never learn.
“Rudy’s lucky to be alive.” His blue eyes had become sharper, and she could almost hear his mind going click-click-click, thinking but not revealing everything. Bad news, no doubt about it.
“That’s what everyone said about me, too. Lucky. Lucky. Lucky. I’m sick to death of hearing that.” She tried to temper the sarcasm in her tone, but it was difficult. Anger often seemed to erupt from some hidden depths, making her sound shrewish and ungrateful. “Please tell me what’s wrong with Rudy.”
“Fishermen always keep baseball bats on their boats.”
The ache in her chest swelled, until it was a sob lodged in her throat.
He hesitated, then explained, “They club the fish until it’s unconscious, so they can fillet it or, in this case, slice off the fins.”
She couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes, so she gazed down at the broken tooth to avoid Greg’s probing stare. She could almost feel Rudy’s pain. And she realized that in an uncharted part of her brain was the irretrievable memory of facing death the way Rudy had. Lucky looked up at Greg and saw the last thing she expected from him: tenderness and compassion.
“Angel, keep Rudy’s tooth for good luck.”
Her heart lurched, echoing in her voice in a quaver. “How can suffering bring luck?”
His hand closed over hers, th
e fingers strong, and she remem
bered the other times his strength had seen her through a crisis. “In ancient Hawaii, there was no metal. Shark’s teeth were made into spears and knives—weapons, that are still called
leiomano,
meaning made from shark teeth.” He squeezed her hand, his fingers twining through hers. “It’s only natural that a tooth is considered a good luck charm, like a rabbit’s foot.”
She gagged, imagining a bunny’s bloody paw. “A rabbit’s foot is good luck?”
Greg smiled, his teeth white against his tanned skin, and she couldn’t help thinking how truly lucky she was to have him helping her. “Don’t worry. Rudy will grow another tooth just like people do.”
Lucky didn’t want to admit she had no idea people grew a new tooth when they lost one. Shuddering inwardly, she was overwhelmed by what she didn’t know. “Rudy’s going to die if I don’t help him,” she said, forcing her thoughts away from her troubles.
“The institute studies monk seals, who are so rare the state established a wildlife refuge to protect them. Tiger sharks like Rudy are their number one enemy.” Greg ripped out the words, his impatience reflected in every syllable.
“He’s injured. He deserves a chance to live. I’m going to staple his fins back on. I checked with Dr. Hamalae and he has stainless steel staples that don’t dissolve. Then if Rudy’s cartilage doesn’t regenerate, his fins will still be attached.”
“Look, a tiger shark is nothing more than a vicious killer. Only the great white shark kills more people. Fire that staple gun underwater and that shark will eat you alive—before any of us can save you.”
“But—”
“You’re not going to do it, understand?”
She gazed down at the serrated tooth in the palm of her hand, thinking about baseball bats, rabbit’s feet, and luck. Bad luck.
16
“
I
t’s for the good of society,” Dr. Carlton Summerville explained to Lucky as they stood beside the shark pool the next day. “The more we know about Hoyt-Mellenberger syndrome, the easier it’ll be to help people like yourself.”
Lucky had no idea how the doctor had gotten inside the institute’s gates, which had been locked to keep out reporters like Fenton Bewley, but she suspected Rachel had let him in. There was something odd about the doctor. Lucky had disliked him the moment he’d introduced himself. She’d seen enough doctors, answered enough questions, to last a lifetime,
“I’m sure Dr. Forenski would be willing to lend you the tape she made.”
“I tried to contact her, but she must have an unlisted number.”
“Ask Cody Braxton. He must know how to contact Dr. Forenski. He found her.”
“I plan to do that, but I thought—”
“Get the reports from the doctors at the hospital. There were three of them, you know. That should be all you’ll need.”
Lucky stepped around him, determined to get into the pool with Rudy before Greg returned. She had the surgical staple gun in her satchel, and she intended to reattach Rudy’s fins before Greg could stop her.
“You’re being selfish,” he called after her. “Think of the other people with head injuries. They’ll suffer needlessly because of you.”
She stopped and swung around to face him. “All right! I’ll talk to you, but not now.”
“When?”
“Call me.” She hurried toward the annex to change into her suit, cursing herself for allowing the obnoxious man to persuade her, yet feeling guilty at the same time. She wouldn’t want to put another living soul through this nightmare if she could help in any way.
Wearing the black suit and dive tank, her mask high on her forehead, Lucky made her way to the pool with the staple gun in the dive pouch at her waist. Looped over her arm was the special flotation device she’d designed for Rudy. Nomo and Dodger were waiting for her at the shallow end.
“Did you remember to shower thoroughly?” Nomo asked.
Lucky nodded, touched by his fatherly concern. Nomo had reminded her repeatedly about sharks’ acute sense of smell. They might react adversely to perfume or shampoo they found noxious smelling.
They also smelled fear. The Australian researcher cautioned her to have no one in the pool who was afraid of Rudy. The body secreted a slight odor when someone became anxious. Sharks easily picked up the scent because two thirds of their brain was devoted to the sense of smell.
“Want some help?” asked one of the cute male interns from the marine research center in Woods Hole.
Of all the people to go into the pool with her, he would have been the best choice. But she couldn’t risk anyone else’s life. She had to go in alone.
“No, thanks. Just wish me luck.”
Lucky gave Dodger a quick pat, knowing he would be pacing along the perimeter of the pool, the way he always did, until she resurfaced. Waving with one hand to the group of volunteers who had gathered to watch and pulling her mask into place with the other, Lucky walked into the water.
Don’t be afraid.
She tried to reassure herself that Rudy would never hurt her. On some level she sincerely believed this was true, but an element of doubt lingered in her mind. Maybe she was projecting, sympathizing with Rudy because he was suffering.
Go back. Forget this harebrained idea.
Yet she couldn’t stop her slow descent. Lucky moved downward, dropping into deeper and deeper water, compelled by a power beyond her control to help Rudy.
Underwater, the volunteer who had been walking Rudy helped Lucky fasten the Velcro-strapped flotation device around the shark. This would stabilize him so she could use both hands to reattach the nearly severed fins. Once the device was in place, the volunteer left the pool in a hurry. Lucky began to walk Rudy, talking to him and sending bursts of bubbles through her air tube.
“If you let me staple your fins on, then you’re outta here.” She pointed to the gate with metal bars separating the pool from the sea. Fresh seawater replenished the pool with each tide, bringing with it small fish, but there wasn’t enough space between the bars for Rudy to get out. It reminded her of her own experience in prison. Maybe she was projecting, she thought, but she knew she had to do this. She wanted to be the one to throw the lever on the gate and see Rudy swim to freedom.
Lucky took a shallow breath, reminding herself not to alarm Rudy by showing him how nervous she was, and a plume of champagne bubbles drifted to the surface. Inside the bra of her
n
ew swimsuit she touched Rudy’s tooth—for luck. The suit
really wasn’t practical for diving, but she loved the way it made
her look. She could still recall the expression on Greg’s face when he’d noticed it was backless.
“Get your mind where it belongs,” she told herself.
Reaching into the pouch at her waist, she took out the institute tag. It was a fluorescent orange disk the size of a quarter, with the name of the institute and the number 1475. Using as much pressure as she dared, she clamped it on his dorsal fin. Rudy flinched, his body snapping to one side, showing more strength than usual.
Lucky inhaled sharply, suddenly aware of how loud and harsh her breathing sounded, then forced herself to slowly exhale, keeping the air bubbles a uniform size. Stay calm, she told herself. Show no fear. Talk to him the way you always do.
“Okay, Rudy, forever after you’ll be a number, not a name. If anyo
ne picks you up, you’re safe…
a protected animal.”
She didn’t add that if his body was found, he would be shipped back to the institute for study. She stopped walking and took the staple gun out of the pouch.
“This isn’t going to hurt you. It’s going to save your life.”
Rudy glared at her with the one eye she could see. It was jet-black, the eye of a fierce predator. She moved with slow, deliberate movements calculated not to alarm him and positioned one fin back where it belonged. Suddenly, her lungs ached and she realized she wasn’t breathing. She forced herself to take a stabilizing breath.
“Here goes. Now don’t give me any trouble.”
Her heart beating lawlessly, Lucky managed to hold the gun steady. She aimed and squeezed hard. Thunk! The noise seemed unusually loud as the staple crunched into his leathery skin. Rudy whipped his head toward her, revealing a vicious set of teeth with one missing tooth.
“See? That didn’t hurt one bit,” she said, but Rudy did not look convinced.
She waited, expecting his powerful jaws to rip off her arm with one deadly bite.
Get out of here,
screamed the logical side of her brain.
Fast.
But she couldn’t desert him, couldn’t give up even though her life was in danger.
Unexpectedly, her niggling fear evaporated, and Lucky realized she was bound to this fearsome creature by destiny. They had both been left to die, given one chance in a million to be found alive, yet here they were.
Somehow she sensed that the worst lay ahead for her, that her darkest moment was lurking in the future. For Rudy there would be no tomorrow unless she saved him today. Everyone else—even Greg—had written him off as just another vicious shark, but to her he was a kindred spirit, one who had seen the dark, evil side of man.
Rudy deserved a chance to live. He couldn’t help being a shark no more than she coul
d help what she was. Sometimes
fate left you without a choice. But he didn’t deserve to have his fins sliced off and to be left floating helplessly, slowly bleeding to death.
She had absolutely nothing on this earth she could truly call her own. Her clothes had been bought, and she still owed Greg for them. She didn’t have a single possession of her very own. Not even a toothbrush. Everything she had or used belonged to someone else, had been bought by someone else.
She didn’t even have a name.
All she had, and the only thing she could give Rudy, was the chance to survive.
“Come on, Rudy, let me help you.” Lucky raised the gun again, ignoring Rudy’s bared fanglike teeth a scant inch from her wrist. “Let me bring you some luck.”
T
he first thing Greg noticed when he came through the gate into the pool area of the institute was the unnatural quiet. Even the noisy seals weren’t barking. Then he noticed the crowd around the shark pool and his brother, a head taller than the rest, standing off to one side. He dashed up beside Cody to confirm his suspicions.
“Aw, shit!” There was Lucky in with the shark with something he could hardly see through the shimmering water. It had to be the staple gun. Naturally, she’d defied him. He yelled
to
Nomo, who was nearby, “Get her out of there before that shark turns on her.”
“Don’t worry about Lucky,” Nomo said. “She’s already got one fin reattached.”
“She’ll never forgive you if you haul her out now,” Cody added in an undertone.
“He could kill her in a second.” Greg refused to admit that Cody was right, but he didn’t insist that Nomo pull her out.
He was every kind of pissed, and the more he thought abou
t
her deliberately defying him, the more furious he became. Though he'd vowed not to lose his temper, it was slipping fast, exposing a raw anger that was new to him even though he’d lived with anger simmering just below the surface for the last two years.
Son of a bitch! He’d saved her life. Posted bail. And what had she done? Turned to Sarah for help, calling in some hotshot attorney and arranging to go on television. He had said that he would help her, that he would find an attorney on the mainland, but she’d spurned his offer.
Then she had teased him, using her body, luring him to the brink, only to announce that she was a “new” person. Okay. He’d gone along with it, believing she deserved a fresh start, touched by the pain of her abuse by her mother.
And, jerk that he was, he’d
let her get to him—yet again—
with Rudy’s tooth. He had thought that she understood the danger but she’d ignored his warnings, sneaking behind his back to do this. If the meeting hadn’t broken up early, he would have missed this whole show.
“Thought you might want to know Fenton Bewley’s press credentials don’t check out.” Cody interrupted his thoughts, and Greg shot him a look that bordered on a death threat. “He’s too sleazy even for the
National Outrage.
He just a freelancer
w
ho sells them articles on occasion. He wrote the Pele’s ghost
s
tory the
Tattler
is running.”
“Did they pay him for it?”
“Yeah, but not much. I can’t believe this story is worth Bewley’s time, but he’s still hanging around.”
A cheer went up from the crowd. “She’s done it,” someone
yelled. “Rudy’s fins are back in place,” someone else cried.
The enthusiasm of the crowd was obvious. The thought crossed his mind that this little stunt of Lucky’s would probably result in more donations to the institute than would any of his lectures on marine biology. But
Greg didn’t give a damn about
the money. She’d defied him, risking her life.
“Now what’s she doing?” Cody wanted to know.
How in hell would I know? She never tells me anything, Greg thought, but refused to admit this to his brother Nomo had walked over to them, saying, “She’s reattached those fins. Now she’s taking off the flotation device so Rudy can swim on his own.”
“I didn’t know they made flotation devices for sharks,” Cody remarked.
Nomo grinned, revealing large, crooked teeth. “They don’t. Lucky made it out of lifejackets.”
Greg smiled inwardly, still furious with Lucky for risking her life but unable to help feeling proud. And immensely relieved that Rudy hadn’t eaten her alive.
The device floated to the surface while Lucky took Rudy under her arm. Bubbles were rising so rapidly that Greg knew she was talking to the shark. The crowd silently waited while she took several turns around the pool. Finally, she let Rudy go and stepped aside to watch him swim. The shark floated in place for a moment, drifting in the pool’s current, then sank to the bottom like a dead weight.
“Oh, no,” Greg couldn’t help saying along with the others. Lucky had tried so hard, had been so clever, and to fail didn’t seem fair. Not that he actually believed this would save Rudy.
His fins were too far gone, but if he would at least try to swim. Lucky would feel better.
Naturally, Lucky wouldn’t give up. A burst of bubbles erupted on the surface, then another. She was babbling away to the shark. Then she picked him up and walked him to t
he
shallow end of the pool, still talking. She let him go and this time he stayed afloat, moving slowly on his own.
“All riiiiight!!” yelled the crowd.
Rudy picked up speed, and everyone kept cheering. Except Greg. Now the shark was going very fast, with quick darting motions, as if his fins had never been cut. Typical, aggressive shark behavior that preceded a strike.
Get out of that pool before he turns on you.