Dangerous Tides (31 page)

"WHAT is it?" Libby asked, trying to get around Tyson to see. Instead of stepping out of the doorway to make room for her, he stepped back into her, forcing her back into the room.

"Are you absolutely certain he's gone?" he demanded. Tyson shook with rage. It swept through his body and into every muscle. He wanted to smash something. In all his life, he'd never felt helpless. His intellect and his physical abilities had always given him supreme confidence in virtually any situation, yet the unseen enemy clearly threatening Libby was out of his reach. She looked so pale and frightened that his guts twisted inside.

She studied his grim face. "Tell me, Ty."

He shrugged out of his jacket and held it. "Put this on." When she began to shake her head, his expression hardened. "I'm not arguing. Put it on." He forced gentleness into his tone. "We're getting out of here. I want you to stay put while I get the bike. Don't leave this house until I'm at the door ready to go."

She blinked up at him, opened her mouth and then closed it. She wasn't going to argue with a possible killer on the loose. She was still feeling the aftereffects of the waves of hatred and malice. Libby slipped her arms into the jacket and stood quietly trembling while he zipped it up.

Tyson leaned down and brushed a kiss over her mouth. "We'll be fine, baby. I'm just going to be gone a couple of minutes. Keep the door closed behind me." His fingers slid into her hair and tugged once before he slipped out the front.

Libby rested her head against the closed door, listening hard for any sound. It was the longest few minutes of her life before she heard the roar of the motorcycle. The sound increased in volume and she knew he was right outside the door. She yanked it open and, slamming it behind her, raced toward him.

Tyson handed her a helmet and waited until she was on the back of the bike, secure with her arms around him before taking off down the drive. Libby laid her head against Ty's back and closed her eyes.

The motorcycle sped down the coastal highway a little faster than before, but not so fast it was reckless. Tendrils of fog reached out in the darkness from over the sea to creep toward land. The cycle shot past several wisps and suddenly, with no warning, the back wheel began to slip out from under them.

Libby controlled a scream of fear as the motorcycle went into a slide across the highway, heading straight for the narrow shoulder and flimsy fence, the only barriers between them and a long rocky drop toward the sea.

"Tyson!" she cried. Her arms instinctively tightened around his waist. She could sense his sudden fear for her as he frantically tried to control the skid.

As if in slow motion, the bike tipped to one side and began to slide across the road. She felt the crush of weight on her leg and hip, the rough road tearing at her clothing and flesh as they skidded along the surface, dragged by the bike. She couldn't hang on to Tyson, ripping fingernails as he was torn from her arms and disappeared out of her sight. She felt herself falling, tumbling sideways off the bike to land on the road surface hard, coming to an abrupt stop, gravel embedded in her skin.

"Tyson!" Libby screamed, fighting the dazed shock accompanying an accident, pushing herself up to look around her frantically. He had given her his heavy leather jacket, protecting her skin, but he was sitting up a distance from her, taking off his helmet, one arm dripping blood from shoulder to hand, his head swiveling around as he called out to her.

"Just stay there," Libby commanded. "For once, do what
I
say."

It was like trying to ward off a hurricane. Tyson was up and running to her, catching her in his arms to ease her back down onto the dirt at the shoulder of the road. Immediately his hands were skimming over her body, checking for signs of damage.

Libby pushed at his chest to back him off, but he didn't appear to notice, frantic to make certain she was alright. "
I'm
the doctor," she snapped. "And I'm fine. I want to check you."

"Damn it. This is impossible," Tyson said. "Totally impossible."

"We must have hit oil. There's grease all over my leg." She pointed to her jeans. Part of the material had shredded and along with the oil stains, there was the darkening stain of blood. "I think the oil plug loosened and came out."

Tyson bent over his leg to inspect the gravel pitted in her flesh. He had a fair amount in his hand and arm, but his much heavier jeans had saved his leg. "I work on my motorcycle myself. There is no damned way that plug would come loose."

"Not even with the vibrations as we rode down the highway?"

"No way, Libby. I know that for a fact. If that's what happened, then someone tampered with the bike."

Libby rubbed at her pounding temples. It wasn't such a stretch to think that someone had sabotaged Tyson's bike. "This evening in the garage when I saw Harry Jenkins and Joe Fielding they looked very guilty. When they saw me they both sort of straightened up, looked at one another and for some reason it really scared me."

"Like tonight?"

She shook her head, winced when he touched her leg and jerked it away from him. "That hurt. I'll take care of it when we get home. And no, it wasn't the same as tonight. Tonight felt…" Libby searched for a word, shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Malicious is all I can think of. There was hatred. Whoever it was wanted us dead."

"You don't have any old boyfriends, do you?" He drew her leg into his lap and stroked a finger down her calf just above the raw streak.

His voice was so gentle, so teasing, Libby smiled in spite of herself. "I was thinking maybe an old girlfriend of yours."

His lips twisted into a lopsided grin that made her heart beat faster. "I didn't have girlfriends, only you."

"Yes, you did. You didn't get to be such a great lover by reading a book. And I'd be pretty jealous if a man made love to me like that and then left me for another woman."

"Why Libby Drake, I do believe you're threatening me."

She jerked her leg away a second time, or attempted to, when he lightly brushed away a piece of gravel. "Ow! If you don't stop I'm definitely going to threaten you. I have to call my sisters."

"We're in for a walk. The cell phones don't work along this section of road."

"Who needs a cell phone when I have the wind?"

She turned to face the direction of her home, lifting her arms into the air. She closed her eyes, visualizing her sisters, knowing they would be on the captain's walk, waiting for any clue that would give them a direction to find her. She'd always had that safety net, the love of her family solidly behind her. She focused and reached for them, arms up to the stars, calling the wind, directing it home with her message of need.

Tyson watched the concentration on her face with interest. Almost at once he felt the wind begin to pick up, driving at them from the sea and heading away toward Libby's home. The wind shifted suddenly, racing back towards them at a furious rate of speed and he swore he heard feminine voices. The wind enveloped him, surrounded Libby like a living blanket, whirling and spinning as if inspecting them. It left just as fast in a sudden rush, back towards the house again.

"Your family must wreak havoc with meteorologists."

Libby laughed, relief spreading through her, easing the tension that had drawn her so tight. "I never thought of that. You're becoming a believer."

"I still want to hook you up to a scan and collect all the data. Only now I'm going to be fantasizing all sorts of interesting things while I'm studying you."

"You're
not
hooking me up to a machine, Ty," she said, trying to look stern.

He flashed a small grin and went back to inspect his motorcycle. There was oil all over the back wheel and just as he suspected, a puddle leaking from the bike onto the ground. He swore softly as Libby came up beside him. When she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, he glanced down at her. "Someone is trying to kill me, Libby."

"Or both of us," she said.

"Or both," he conceded, "but I think I'm the primary target." He gave her a grim look. "The fall I took during the heli-rescue is starting to seem a little suspicious right about now. All along, I've been wondering how my safety harness could have failed the way it did. We triple check that gear, Libby, because we know our lives depend on it."

"You think someone tampered with your safety harness?"

"I do. How they got to it and what they did to it, I don't know, but I don't think it was an accident. And I'm beginning to think it was no accident that Jonas was shot while taking the broken harness back for testing. The harness disappeared right out of his squad car while everyone was trying to save his life."

"Why would someone want you dead?"

"A lot of people might want me dead. I step on toes, Libby. I'm not very careful what I say and I don't have tolerance for idiots."

"You mean like Harry Jenkins."

"I also called Edward Martinelli and told him to back off."

"You didn't!" She shook her head. "But you had the accident
before
there was any reason to connect us. He wouldn't have had a reason to want you dead."

"That's not exactly true." He took her hand and led her to the side of the road so they could sit down. Libby didn't realize it, but she was shaking, and probably not from the cold. Already he could see lights in the distance, blinking on and off around the hairpin turns. "I've spoken to Ed about you many times in casual conversations. He had to know I was interested. And my cousin, Sam, owes him a great deal of money. Sam gambles and apparently he lost heavily to Ed. Ed's been threatening him and Sam didn't tell me about it until recently."

"Is it more money than you can pay for him?" Libby asked.

"No. He won't take the money. He wants me, or Sam, to persuade you to talk to him. He says he needs your expertise and no one else will do."

"But you didn't tell me. And neither did Sam."

"Hell, no, we weren't going to tell you. We don't want you anywhere near that bastard. Sam got himself into trouble and if it's a money thing, money can fix it. I only told you so you'd see Ed could have wanted me out of the way."

"Why would he want you out of the way though?"

"Ed knows I never stop if pushed. He's known me since I was a child. Sam can't sustain anything for very long. Of the two of us, he'd want to deal with Sam. I just don't back off once I'm dug in on something." He ran his fingertip down the back of her hand, all the way across to caress her fingers. He curled his hand around hers to press her palm to his heart. "Does that scare you, Libby?"

"No. I can handle you, Tyson. Even when you pull your superior act." How could she not, when he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world. His eyes devoured her, ate her alive. She'd never, in all the years she'd known him, seen him look that way at anyone else—nor seen anyone look at her that way either.

"You're turning me on, going all dominatrix on me." He leaned over to kiss her. "Your mouth drives me crazy. Every time you do that little thing…"

"What little thing?"

He grinned at her. "That. You do this little sexy pout with your lips and all I can think about is kissing you until you're so hot and wet for me I can have you right there and then, or better yet"—his hand slid over the front of his jeans—"I can watch you put those lips to good use."

She tried to stop the slow burn creeping through her body to center deep and low. His voice had gone rough again, and he sucked her finger deep into his mouth.

"Well, try to control yourself, the troops have arrived."

The car screeched to a halt just as the passenger door opened and Elle Drake leapt out to fling herself at Libby. Libby barely had time enough to stand and catch her. Tears poured down Elle's face. "I couldn't find you. I tried, Libby, but I couldn't find you."

"I'm okay, baby.
Ssh
. It's all right. We're both all right." Libby soothed her. "This isn't your fault, Elle."

Sarah slammed the car door and ran to her sisters, her arms around both of them. "We were so afraid, Libby. We even tried reading the mosaic, but we couldn't find you."

A second vehicle pulled up behind the Drakes' and Jackson emerged. "You two all right?" His sharp glance raked them both, then settled on Elle's tear-stained face.

Tyson nodded. "Someone tampered with my motorcycle and earlier they were watching us at my house." He turned to Libby. "You go on home with your sisters and I'll stay here with Jackson."

"Are you certain?" Libby asked. "I should take a look at your arm first."

"It's nothing, a scratch. Go on home and let me take care of this."

Jackson pulled his gaze away from Elle to study Tyson. "Go on, Libby. I can take your statement later."

Tyson leaned down to brush a kiss across Libby's mouth. "I'll see you first thing tomorrow."

"If you're certain," Libby said. She followed her sisters to the car.

"What is it?" Jackson asked.

Tyson met the deputy's eyes with a long, level look, allowing him to glimpse the pent-up rage looking for a way to break free. "I took Libby to the house I just purchased. We were up there for a while and she became certain someone was watching us through the front glass. The property is fenced in and gated. I thought we were safe, although I don't have a security system in place. I dropped Libby's jacket outside on the walkway and when I went to get it so we could leave, I found it ripped to shreds. The cuts were too clean to have been made with anything but a knife. I'm telling you straight up, Jackson, you'd better find the son of a bitch before I do."

Jackson ignored the threat. "Do you think these attempts are directed at you? Or is this about her?"

Tyson shrugged, looked down to see his fists were clenched and made an attempt to open his hands. "I don't have a clue which one of us. I'm in love with her and maybe that's drawn her into danger. I just don't know." He raked his fingers through his hair in agitation. "There were a couple of men in my garage earlier this evening who chased Libby into the house. They had access to my motorcycle as did whoever was at the new house tonight."