Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1 Page 14

  "You know I will," he called back.

  "It's none of your business."

  She slammed the car door and pealed out of the driveway. With any luck she could lose him on the way to town.

  * * *

  "It's none of our business," Ashley whispered, as Caroline dragged her down the sidewalk leading to the marina. "We should stay out of it."

  "None of our business?" Caroline asked in amazement. "K.C. Wales bought our boat and brought it back here to sail right in front of us. I think we're supposed to be involved in this. That's why he's sticking it in our faces."

  "We should wait for Kate." Ashley stopped walking. It was the only way to slow Caroline down. "What exactly are we going to do? What are we going to say?"

  Caroline tapped her foot impatiently. "I don't know yet."

  "Let's think about it for a minute."

  "I want to know why K.C. brought the boat back here. I'll just ask him."

  "That's not a good plan."

  "What's wrong with it?"

  That was the problem with Caroline, Ashley thought. She never thought before she acted. "K.C. knows things, remember? There's a reporter in town, remember? We have to be careful. Let's wait for Kate."

  "Fine. But if K.C. comes down this path before Kate gets here, I'm asking him what's up. I'm not afraid, even if you are."

  It wasn't fear Ashley was feeling right now but uneasiness and maybe a hint of... longing? Was it possible that she wanted to see the Moon Dancer again?

  No, that was crazy. That boat had been the site of her worst nightmare. Their home at sea had turned into a living hell. She couldn't possibly want to see it again, so why was she craning her neck, hoping to catch another glimpse?

  "I'm calling Dad," Caroline said, taking out her cell phone. "He needs to know. We can't let him be blindsided."

  "Maybe he already knows. Kate was going to tell him."

  "I don't think she did. She's been so caught up with that reporter."

  "Let's wait and ask her."

  "It's ringing," Caroline said. "Damn. No answer."

  "Would you just take a breath, Caroline? We don't have to talk to Dad yet."

  Ashley wasn't up to dealing with her father on top of everything else. Her relationship with Duncan had always been awkward. She didn't have Caroline's faith in her father or Kate's unending loyalty. In fact, sometimes she didn't care for him at all.

  Ashley was relieved to see Kate's car pull up in a nearby space.

  "You didn't talk to K.C. yet, did you?" Kate asked breathlessly as she stopped in front of them.

  "Not yet," Ashley replied.

  "Good." Kate cast a quick look over her shoulder. "Tyler is probably on his way here right now. I tried to ditch him, but I don't think I succeeded. He drives very fast."

  "Did you tell Dad about K.C. and the Moon Dancer?" Caroline asked Kate.

  "No, I meant to, but when I saw Dad last night, I got distracted when he told me that Rick Beardsley had asked him to join his racing crew. Can you believe that?"

  "But Dad promised he wouldn't race again," Ashley said, wondering why everything was suddenly off kilter.

  "Maybe Dad just wants to move on," Caroline offered. "There's nothing wrong with getting on with our lives. The past is long gone."

  "Not that far gone," Kate said, stiffening. "Here comes one person from our past right now."

  Chapter Ten

  K.C. Wales was a tall man, well over six feet. In his younger days, his hair had been sandy brown. Now it was stark white. His dark eyes blazed against his ruddy complexion; his skin bore the weathered look of a longtime sailor. In his mid-sixties, he was still an imposing man, with a wiry strength about him and a sense of purpose. He was followed by another man, who appeared to be in his twenties and looked familiar.

  K.C.'s son, David? Kate hadn't seen David in years, but then David had been raised by his mother in California.

  Kate felt Ashley and Caroline draw close to her, forming a united front as the men stopped before them. There was instant recognition in K.C.'s eyes, despite the lapse in time since they'd last seen one another.

  "Ah, Katie," he said with a pleased nod of his head. "Ashley, Caroline. I hadn't expected that you would be part of my welcoming committee. You're all looking well."

  "And we never expected you to come back here, especially in our boat," Kate said.

  "The Moon Dancer hasn't been your boat for years," he said evenly.

  "You know what I mean. Why did you buy it?" she asked.

  "Because it was for sale," he said simply. "I'm sure your father must have seen it listed in the magazines. If he'd wanted it back, he could have bought it."

  Kate wasn't about to tell him that her father didn't have the kind of money to buy back a world-class racing yacht. Instead, she said, "He's moved on in his life. I thought you had, too."

  "Things change. Life changes. No day is ever the same as the last. You should know that, Katie."

  "There are hundreds of better boats, especially if you're racing again."

  "But the Moon Dancer is a winner, isn't it, girls?" He paused. "I've been remiss. You remember my son David, don't you?"

  Kate turned her head to take a better look at David. Her first impression was of a rebel in blue jeans. With a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and long brown hair, he looked like a punk. He had none of the sophistication of his father. And he was too pale to be a sailor. She wondered what he'd grown up to be. Aside from the few summer vacations he'd spent with his father when they were children, she knew little about him. "Hello," she said.

  David just shrugged.

  "You look more like Nora than I remember, Katie," K.C. mused, studying her face. "Quiet strength suits you well."

  Kate wasn't quite sure how to respond to his compliment, if in fact it was a compliment. Maybe it was a warning that she would need strength.

  "Where is your father?" K.C. asked.

  "He's around."

  "It shouldn't be too difficult to find him. I'll just look in the nearest bar."

  Kate wished she could tell K.C. that her father had changed, that he wasn't so easy to predict, but she couldn't. Duncan probably was at the nearest bar.

  "As much as I'd love to stay and catch up, David and I have a meeting to get to," K.C. said. "We'll talk again. We have things to discuss—unfinished business, you might say."

  "I can't imagine what," Kate murmured.

  His smile was silky-smooth. "I'm sure you can imagine. As I recall, Katie, you had the best imagination of all the girls."

  K.C. and his son moved away before Kate could reply.

  "I don't think you had the best imagination," Caroline said after a moment. "I'm very imaginative. And Ashley has seen ghosts and all kinds of supernatural phenomena, so you might have the worst imagination."

  "Caroline," Ashley said in frustration, "didn't you just hear what K.C. had to say?"

  "He didn't say anything. He just implied things."

  "That's what bothers me." Kate watched David and K.C. walk down the path toward the marina office. They passed by Tyler Jamison, who was leaning against a post, watching them. He tipped his head toward her, then walked away.

  His quick departure surprised and worried her. Why hadn't he come over? Why hadn't he asked who the two men were? It seemed out of character for him to just leave without saying a word. What was he up to now?

  "What are we going to do about K.C.?" Ashley asked, interrupting her thoughts about Tyler. "Do you think he really knows something, or is this just about sticking the Moon Dancer back in our faces?"

  "I don't know," Kate replied. "I guess we should speak to Dad, and he probably is down at the bar."

  "I can't go," Caroline said abruptly. "I have something else to take care of. I'll catch up with you two later."

  "What do you have to do?" Kate asked.

  "Stuff," Caroline said, refusing to give any more details before she walked away.

  "I wonder if Dad knows about K.C. and
the Moon Dancer," Ashley mused.

  Kate suddenly saw the truth. "That's why he suddenly has to get back in the game. He wants to race K.C. That's what this is all about. Finally, a connection that makes sense."

  "We have to find a way to stop him."

  Kate met her sister's eyes. "Yes, we do."

  * * *

  Tyler sat down on a bench by the harbor, staring at the boats before him. He took out his cell phone, then hesitated.

  How could he explain to Mark that he needed a shot in the arm, a kick in the butt, a reason to stay in the hunt? Mark wasn't here. He didn't know that Kate was a beautiful woman with a great smile and a big heart, a woman who loved and protected her family. Mark didn't know that Ashley was quiet and vulnerable and looked like she'd lost her best friend. And he didn't know that Caroline was a spunky young woman who seemed more of a confused innocent than a determined troublemaker.

  Frankly, Tyler couldn't quite decide which of the girls was the most likely candidate to have given up a child. He had some ammunition to use if it was Caroline or Ashley. With a little creativity, he could probably make a case that Caroline was a reckless, irresponsible party girl with lots of vices and that Ashley was a head case, probably in need of a good psychiatrist. Kate still seemed clean as a whistle. Damn. He did not want Amelia's mother to be Kate. He did not want to have to take her down in any way. How could he? Ten minutes ago he'd wanted to make love to her, and whether or not she was Amelia's mother had been the last thing on his mind.

  He punched in Mark's number, and when his brother answered, he said abruptly, "I need to talk to Amelia."

  "Why?" Mark asked suspiciously. "What's going on?"

  "I just miss her. Is she home?”

  "Yeah, she's home," Mark said, a catch in his voice. "She's taking care of me, Ty. She's eight years old, and she's taking care of me. I don't know what I'd do without her."

  There it was, the shot in the arm he needed. A moment later, Amelia's sweet, girlish voice came over the phone.

  "Hi, Uncle Ty. Where are you?" she asked.

  "I'm looking at some boats. What are you doing?"

  "I was reading Daddy a story. But now I'm making him a milkshake, because Shelly says he needs milk for his bones to get better."

  "You're a good girl."

  "I know," she said breezily.

  Tyler's heart squeezed again at the familiar note in her voice. Did she sound like Kate—or was that just his imagination?

  "I'm going swimming later," Amelia continued. "I can go all the way down and touch the bottom in the deep end now. And yesterday I got all three rings without coming up for air."

  "That's terrific."

  "Uncle Ty?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Can I ask you a question?" Amelia's voice dropped down as if she didn't want her father to hear.

  "Sure, honey."

  "Do you think Mommy can see us from heaven?”

  "I know she can."

  "Do you think she's mad because Daddy and I didn't go with her?"

  His gut clenched at the question. "Oh, no, absolutely not. She wants you to be happy, Amelia. That's all she ever cared about.”

  "I'm going to take care of Daddy for her.”

  His heart broke a little bit more. "I know you will. Can I talk to him again?"

  "Bye, Uncle Ty."

  Tyler drew in a desperately needed breath as he waited for Mark to come on the line. Amelia was strong and courageous. And he had a terrible feeling he knew who she got that strength from.

  In a moment Mark's voice came over the line. "Any other news?" he asked tensely.

  "Not really. Every time I think I've got it figured out one way, I see another possibility. Has there been any more contact between George and the other lawyer?"

  "Yes. George got a registered letter from Mr. Watson basically stating that if he didn't come up with a name and address of the baby's adoptive parents, he was going to make sure that there was a thorough investigation into George's practice."

  "Damn. What did George say?"

  "Nothing yet. But if this Mr. Watson found George, he might be able to find me, too. You have to figure out which one of the McKenna sisters is the mother. For God's sake, Tyler, I thought you were a hotshot reporter. What's taking so long?"

  "What do you want me to do—come out and ask them? Don't you think that will raise some questions? You have to be patient. You have to let me handle this my way."

  "Just find her, Tyler. Dig deep. Be the ruthless son of a bitch I know you can be. I need to know who's trying to take my daughter."

  "I'll call you when I have more information." Tyler slipped the phone into his pocket and debated his next step.

  He knew there was something going on with the McKennas and the two men they'd met on the docks. But what did that have to do with his problem? Probably nothing.

  He could follow up on Caroline. He could check out her party-girl reputation at the Oyster Bar, maybe run into Duncan and find out what was up with the infamous K.C. Wales and the Moon Dancer.

  Relieved that he had a plan that did not involve Kate, Tyler got to his feet and headed toward the bar.

  * * *

  Duncan felt better than he had in years, and it wasn't just because of the whiskey sliding down his throat; it was the taste of a challenge. In one week he'd be the skipper on the Summer Seas. He couldn't wait to feel the wind in his face, hear the roar of the ocean, smell the fish and the salt. God, he ached for those smells, those sounds, those sights. He'd paid his penance. Katie would just have to understand that a sailing man couldn't stay in port forever. Nora would have understood. She'd always known that he needed the sea almost as much as he needed her. He could hardly believe eight years had passed since he'd sold the Moon Dancer.

  Duncan raised his glass to his lips once again. K.C. had come just as he'd expected. It hadn't taken a rocket scientist to figure out that K.C. would buy the Moon Dancer. Maybe the girls would be surprised, but Duncan knew better. He'd known K.C. would come back eventually, and returning in the Moon Dancer would fit K.C.'s sense of drama.

  It didn't matter. The boat's return added to the challenge, and Duncan felt exhilarated by the thought of it all. He was living again. He was calling the shots. He'd had plenty of time over the past few years to think. And he knew what he wanted now. A twinge of conscience stabbed him as he recalled the horror in Kate's eyes when he'd told her he was racing again, but he ignored it. He'd suffered enough.

  "Mr. McKenna?"

  Duncan looked up to see a young man approaching him. "Do I know you?"

  "Not yet. I'm Tyler Jamison. I'm a reporter, and I'd like to do a follow-up story on your family's impressive racing victory in the Winston Challenge."

  He smiled. A reporter? Perfect. This day was getting better and better. "You've come to the right place."

  "Can I buy you a drink?"

  "Of course.” As Tyler sat down, Duncan saw Kate and Ashley walk into the bar. He frowned in disgust. "Don't tell me that fool bartender called you already. I've only had two drinks."

  "What are you doing here?" Kate asked Tyler.

  Apparently, his daughter had already met the reporter. Probably tried to steer him away from the family. Well, not this time. A reporter suited his purposes just fine.

  "You're interrupting," Duncan said. "Mr.—What was your name?"

  "Jamison."

  "Mr. Jamison and I are going to have a drink.”

  "Dad, he's a reporter," Kate protested.

  "I know who he is," he said with a grin. "I just don't know what he's drinking."

  "I'll have a beer," Tyler said to the nearby waiter. He turned to Kate. "What about you, Kate? Are you staying?"

  Kate looked undecided, Ashley even more so.

  "Sit or go," Duncan said impatiently. He would have preferred that they go, but he suspected that no matter how uncomfortable Kate felt, she would not leave him alone with the reporter.

  "I'll stay," Kate said firmly. "Ashley will stay,
too."

  Ashley looked like she'd rather do anything else. But then that's the way Ashley looked most of the time, Duncan thought. His middle daughter had always been more of a mystery than the other two, and always so damn sensitive.

  "Now, then, what can I tell you?" Duncan asked Tyler as his daughters joined them at the table.

  "I'd like to hear about your experience racing around the world."

  "That could take awhile, son," he said with a laugh.

  "I'll bet." Tyler leaned forward. "I've read a great deal about the race, but what I'd really like to know is how it felt to sail through one of the most terrible storms in ocean-racing history."

  "Ever had someone hold your head underwater?" Duncan asked. "I thought God had his hands on our heads that night. The waves got so bad we couldn't tell if we were sailing or if the boat was just filling up with water."

  "It must have been terrifying," Tyler commented.

  "It was the worst we'd ever been through." Duncan knew there had to be limits to this conversation, but, dammit, some day he wanted to tell the world just how hard it had been to sail through that monster. "But we survived."

  "Were you close to the boat that didn't make it?" Tyler asked.

  "Who could tell?" Kate said quickly. "We couldn't see past our noses out there."

  "But they kept shouting Mayday over the radio," Ashley said. "I can still hear their voices filled with panic, begging for help. I don't think I'll ever forget those voices.” Her own voice drifted away as if she were sorry she'd joined in the conversation.

  Duncan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't want to talk about those voices; he wanted to talk about the roller-coaster waves and the strength it had taken to keep the boat from going under.

  "When did you know that one of the boats had gone down?" Tyler asked Duncan.

  "The next day, when it was over."

  "I understand one man survived."

  "Yes," Duncan answered. It was all a matter of public record, at least that part. He looked up as the door to the bar opened and his onetime friend and nemesis walked into the room. "Well, if that isn't right on cue. There he is now."