Название | The Island |
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Автор произведения | Heather Graham |
Жанр | Полицейские детективы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Полицейские детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
But as for the woman…
Beth Anderson. She and the tall girl were obviously related. Both had the same very sleek dark hair. Not dead straight, but lush and wavy. And Beth had the kind of eyes that picked up the elements, that could be dark or light, that held a bit of the exotic, the mysterious. Very nicely built, which was more than evident, since all three were in two-piece suits. She appeared to be in her mid to late twenties, naturally sensual and sexy, though not in an overt way. Athletic. With shapely legs that went forever…
She was compellingly attractive.
And a little crazy.
No. Frightened.
Of him?
This was his first trip to Calliope Key. But he surely looked the part. So why had he appeared so menacing to her?
She wouldn’t ever have come to the island with the girls if she had been afraid of something from the get-go. So…?
They must have found something.
He looked quickly around the clearing. There was nothing immediately evident that would have disturbed anyone, whatever they’d found had to be right around where they had been standing.
For a moment everything in him seemed to tighten and burn; his jaw locked. The heat of anger filled him, the raging sense of fury that the world was never just, and no effort on his part could change that.
And that was part of the reason he was here, he reminded himself, though he kept that fact private. Keep your eye on the prize—that was the standing order. There was one objective. Find what they were seeking, and do it discreetly. Then the rest would fall into place. He hoped. He wasn’t certain anyone else really believed that, and he would be damned if he even knew what he believed himself.
He heard his name called. It was Lee.
He forced a deep breath, aware that he had to tamp down his emotions over his current situation.
He shouted back, “I’m over here.”
A minute later, Lee Gomez and Matt Albright appeared in the clearing. “What’s going on?” Lee asked him. Half-Ecuadorian and half-American mutt, Lee had brilliant blue eyes and pitch-dark hair, and skin that never seemed to mind the sun.
“Not much. Met a woman and two girls—they’re with the woman’s brother, maybe some other people, camping on the island tonight,” Keith said.
Matt shook his head, swearing. He was the redhead in their group, quick to anger, quicker to apologize, but at all times easily irritated. “There’s more. Two more good-size boats, both anchored not far from us. I saw a dinghy coming in with several people.”
“Well, what are you going to do,” Keith asked with a shrug. “Boaters have been coming out here since…well, hell, probably since forever.”
“Yeah, but dammit, they shouldn’t be here now,” Matt muttered.
“Hey, we knew we’d be in public view, working around whatever happened and whoever appeared. People are here, so let’s make the best of it,” Keith said. “And think about it. It’s not much of a shock. It’s a weekend, the perfect time for boaters to take a little break.”
“You don’t think we could dress up as pygmies and scare them all off the island, do you?” Lee murmured dryly.
“Pygmies?” Matt said.
“Some kind of tribal islanders, maybe cannibals?” Lee teased.
Keith laughed. “Oh, yeah, that would make us really inconspicuous. Besides, while they’re on the island, they’re not out on their boats, checking out the reefs. It’s a weekend. Let’s do like the others. Play tourist. Get to know the folks. Check out what they know—and what they’re thinking.” And what they’re afraid of, he thought, but he kept the possibility that anyone on the island might suspect them of something to himself.
Lee shrugged. “All right.”
“So we roll out the cooler and the tent and make like party people,” Matt said. He laughed suddenly. “Not so bad. One of the people on the boat was a woman, and man, she sure as hell looked like a hottie. From a distance, anyway.”
One of the people on the boat? Keith thought. You should have seen the woman in this very clearing, just minutes ago. And I wasn’t any distance from her. None at all.
“Doesn’t matter if she’s hot as blue blazes, no getting too close to the locals, not tonight,” Lee warned sternly.
“Hey, I’m just going to be a party boy. A friendly guy, just looking for fun, a good ole boating fool,” Matt assured him.
“Well, you can be a good ole boy later. I’m not hauling stuff off that boat by myself,” Lee said. “If we’re turning into Boy Scouts and doing the camping thing, you guys can do some of the lugging, too.”
“Actually, camping isn’t such a bad idea,” Keith said.
“No, and getting to know folks from the area isn’t a bad idea, either,” Lee said. He grinned. “I think I’ll own the boat.”
“Hey!” Matt protested.
“Someone has to own the boat, right?” Lee asked.
“You can own the boat,” Keith said.
“I get to own it next time,” Matt said.
“With any luck, there won’t be a next time,” Keith said. He stared at the other two, and he couldn’t help feeling an edge of suspicion.
Lee stared back at him. His eyes were enigmatic. “Ever the optimist, huh?”
“I just know what I’m doing,” Keith said.
Lee assessed him for what seemed like an eternity. “I hope,” Lee said. “I hope to hell you’re focused on what we’re doing.”
“I’m focused. You can count on it,” Keith said, and he knew his tone was grim.
“C’mon, then, let’s go play tourist,” Lee said.
“Sure. Be right there,” Keith said.
“Hey, we’re all in this together, you know,” Matt reminded him, his eyes narrowed.
“Yup.”
They were in it together, true. But the other two didn’t know that he’d been warned specifically to keep an eye on them.
“Damn, Keith, you’re acting bizarre,” Lee said, staring at him. “Think of what’s happened. Focus is the most important thing here.”
More important than human life? Keith wondered. “I’ll be right with you.”
“He’s working on that instinct thing he’s got going for him,” Matt said, shrugging. “Come on, Lee, let’s get started. Wonderboy will be along.”
Keith waited until they walked back toward the northern shore.
And then he began to search the clearing.
Oh, yeah. He was focused.
There were certain images a man could never quite get out of his mind. Dead men. Dead friends. Friends who’d had everything in the world to live for. Young. The best of the best.
He stiffened, listening. People were coming. The island was becoming more crowded by the minute. He swore softly.
“Hey there,” came a throaty, masculine voice.
A man of about sixty, followed by a petite young woman and two men about his own age, was entering the clearing.
“Hey,” Keith replied, stepping forward, a smile on his face.
Ah,