Night Swimming (7 page)

“Don’t waste your time worrying about Ferrucci’s machinations, Sean. It’s Lily Banyon you should be devoting your, uh, energies to. You’re not a lust-struck teenager anymore. Why don’t you spend some time with her, let her get to know the real you?” Dave ignored Sean’s decidedly unenthusiastic grunt. “Hey! I’ve got it! You can tag along on the research boat as an observer.”

“A monumentally bad idea, Dave,” Sean said flatly.

“Why not? It’s perfect. You ran on an environmental platform; this shows how committed you are to monitoring the reef’s health. You don’t need to go often— otherwise our friend Ferrucci will cry foul—just enough to dazzle her with that McDermott charm. So, how about it?”

Sean shook his head. “No dice, not in a million years. I don’t want to be anywhere near her.”

Dave wasn’t cruel enough to tell Sean he was lying like a rug.

A brief silence ensued as they nursed their drinks, absorbed in thought. At the corner of the bar, a conversation rose in decibel, becoming animated.

“Yo, Frank, take a look at what just walked in! Is it Christmas already? ’Cause that sure is a pretty package.”

“You got that right. . . . Wouldn’t mind unwrapping her bows.”

Instinctively, Sean cast a glance over his shoulder and groaned in despair. The scene from
Casablanca
played in his mind . . .
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the
world, she had to walk into mine.

This could not be happening. This was his turf, his town, his bar. She had no right to trespass.

Okay, so this wasn’t
Casablanca
. This wasn’t Rick’s Café. Sam’s fingers weren’t summoning the haunting melody, “As Time Goes By,” from the ivories of an old, upright piano. There weren’t any ceiling fans with long propeller-like blades slicing through thick clouds of cigarette smoke, nor were the voices that could be heard an exotic mélange of foreign languages and accents.

But those differences were superficial, of no consequence. The only thing that really mattered was that Sean understood exactly how Bogie felt when his eyes lit on Ingrid Bergman. That terrible mix of bitterness, longing, and fury eating away at him.

He groaned again.

At the sound, the two men sitting at the corner of the bar broke off their conversation, eyeing Sean curiously. Just as quickly, they dismissed him and returned to their avid inspection.

“Must be lost or confused. Palm Beach is twenty-five miles north.”

“Let’s be friendly and give her directions. How ’bout that, Ray?”

“You frigging nuts? The only directions I’m giving her are to the slip where my houseboat’s moored.” He elbowed his companion. “Stop drooling, Frank. She’s coming this way.”

Because of the Keel’s gloomy interior, Lily didn’t notice that he and Dave were at the bar until she was almost upon them. The second she did, her step faltered. She was doubtless debating whether to spin 180 degrees and march right out again.

He should have known Lily would tough it out. After that initial hesitation, she
strolled
—it was the only word Sean could find that adequately described the confident sway of her hips—to the bar.

Once there, her gaze flit over Sean and Dave with total disinterest, the kind of look one reserved for strangers— with whom one had no intention of ever becoming acquainted.

“Tequila and lime, please,” she ordered quietly when Charlie approached.

“Coming right up,” Charlie said with a nod. He set a shot glass and a tequila bottle in front of her. Disappearing through the swinging door that led to the kitchen, he returned shortly with a white porcelain saucer, lime quarters neatly arranged in a radiating pattern.

Sean’s eyebrows rose. Lily was getting the royal treatment; most of the Rusted Keel’s patrons considered themselves lucky if they got their limes tossed into a plastic red Solo cup.

Charlie poured a shotful. The bar fell eerily silent as Lily leaned forward. Holding the lime bracketed between index finger and thumb, she bit into its flesh, her teeth flashing white in the subdued lighting. She lifted the shot glass to her lips. With a quick backward toss, she downed its contents. Her eyes closed.

Watching her, Sean imagined the fiery yellow liquor racing down her throat, setting her aglow from within. Involuntarily, his eyes traveled the sinuous contour of her profile and down the length of her neck. And descended further still.

Gone was the short jacket she’d been wearing earlier. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone. The blouse, made of some kind of shimmery material, shifted bluish purple in the half light.

Shadows and mysteries. The glimpse of Lily’s milky white skin exposed by the shirt’s plunging vee filled him with wanderlust, a need to explore until all her secrets were revealed. He moved restlessly on his stool.

A solid thud of glass against wood resounded in the near-silent bar. Then Lily was laying a ten-dollar bill on the bar and heading toward the door. In the wake of her departure, male speculation frothed in bloated bubbles.

Sean was already on his feet. He tossed a large tip on the bar. “Thanks again, Charlie. See you later, Dave.”

“See you,” Dave echoed. With a glimmer of a smile, he nodded in the direction of the parking lot. “Catching a ride?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

Sean had slipped his jacket off the back of the stool and was shrugging into it when one of the men seated at the corner spoke.

“Hey, McDermott, what’s your opinion? Silicone for sure, huh?”

Sean paused to glance their way. Ray and Frank were partners in a small sport-fishing business. He knew them vaguely. Now he wished he didn’t. He shook his head in contempt. “Think I’d tell you, Ray?”

Ray’s eyes narrowed. “Like you actually know, McDermott. You claiming you’ve handled the goods, Mayor?” His tone matched the sneer on his face. “If so, the lady sure don’t seem to remember.” He poked Frank with his elbow. “Looked right through him, didn’t she, Frank?”

“Like a pane of glass.”

Sean ignored their snorts of laughter. “Let me give you some friendly advice,” he said mildly. “I’d be real careful not to let the lady catch you staring at her like that.”

Ray pulled a comical face, pretending to look scared, then laughed even harder.

Sean smiled in return. Yet when Ray opened his mouth to speak, he cut him off. “But if
I’m
the one who catches you gawking, if I hear you talking about her that way again—” he paused, and his smile turned dangerous, “—your sorry carcasses will be feeding the fish.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

How would you know, McDermott?
The question taunted Sean as he left the Rusted Keel.

How did he know Lily Banyon’s breasts were 100 percent warm, pliant flesh and not synthetic balloons?

That was easy. Because she’d had them since she was thirteen years old.

You claiming you’ve handled the goods, Mayor?

Never had the pleasure.

Correction. There was that one fleeting moment. But that memory, along with so many others, was Sean’s personal Pandora’s box. In his surprise over her return, he’d dropped his guard. And the box had opened a crack. With fierce resolve, Sean slammed its lid shut as forcefully as he wrenched open the door to Lily’s metallic blue subcompact.

The engine of her car idling, Lily had been waiting an eternity for a break in the rush hour traffic. Too busy scanning the cars roaring past in either direction, she hadn’t seen Sean crossing the length of the parking lot, aiming straight for her.

When the passenger door flew open, Lily’s head whipped around in alarm. “What the—” Alarm turned to outrage when she saw who it was. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Hitching a ride. It’s Thursday, Lily. You haven’t forgotten what happens on Thursday nights, have you?” Sean smiled.

Thursday. Since time immemorial, Granny May cohosted a barbecue Thursday evenings with Sean’s grandmother, Anne Prentiss, inviting six other biddies. Afterward, the women all settled down for an evening of bridge and gin fizzes.

“No. No way!” Appalled, she shook her head violently. The prospect of being the focus of an interrogation by eight inquisitive matrons was so unnerving that Lily forgot about shoving Sean out of the car.

“Yup. You may not care about May Ellen’s feelings, but I do. I’m not going to let you break her heart when she learns that you’re here in town and haven’t bothered to see her.”

“I was planning to visit her in the morning—”

“Not good enough. Drive, Lily.” Sean gave her a mocking smile and asked, “Or do you need directions?”

Without thinking, Lily flipped him the bird and hit the accelerator hard. The car burned rubber out of the parking lot as Lily cut into the heavy traffic. Behind her came the outraged blare of car horns, beside her echoed the ring of Sean’s laughter.

She shot him a venomous look. He was leaning back against the passenger seat, for all appearances having the time of his life.

“Know what’s nice about you, Lily?” he said, laughter still threading his voice.

“I can’t imagine,” she snapped.

“You never change.”

“Neither do you. You’re as obnoxious as ever.”

“That’s me. Ran on the obnoxious ticket,” he agreed complacently. “Landslide victory.”

She was driving like a maniac, switching lanes as though she were in a chase scene in a cops and robbers film. Throughout, Sean remained aggravatingly relaxed. His fingers threaded behind his neck, he merely observed in a bored drawl, “By the way, we have speed limits in Coral Beach.”

“Tough. I can’t get to May Ellen’s fast enough, if it means I get to be rid of you.”

He sighed. “There you go, breaking my heart. I was hoping we’d have time to reminisce. No? Then I’ll take the opportunity now to lay the ground rules out for you, Lily.”

“You lay ground rules for me?” she scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

Sean continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “See, Lily, this reef study means a great deal to me.”

Recalling the snippet of conversation she’d overheard between Sean and Pete Ferrucci had Lily’s knuckles turning white against the rim of the steering wheel. “Indeed? Oh, I understand. Of course, it means a great deal to you
politically
.” She stressed the word. “So much has changed here.” She nodded at the scenery speeding past. “New houses, new construction . . .” As her voice trailed off, she cast a quick glance at Sean and saw that his jaw was clamped tight.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he replied, his voice now altered, too, edged with anger. “You guessed it, Lily. The study means a lot to me politically. So forget any burning desire you might have to cross me.”

She felt her own temper flare. “I’m a scientist, not a politician. The only thing I plan is to report my findings to the advisory panel. . . . I’ll do my work like I always do. Objectively. It’ll be up to
you
to twist the results to suit your purposes. And I do wonder where your political interest lies.”

“You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea already.” Lily only hoped Sean interpreted the heavy disappointment in her voice as sarcasm. “Traffic’s certainly heavier than it used to be. Big boom in business recently?”

“Economy’s better than ever.”

“How nice for you. Lot of new developments planned for the area?” Lily threw the question out recklessly.

“Slow down, Ace, or you’ll miss the turn,” was his only reply.

Damn and damn again, he was right.
Lily braked hard.

They exited the heavily traveled highway, turning onto a smaller county road. They were heading north now, nearing one of Coral Beach’s oldest residential neighborhoods, Laguna, where Lily’s grandmother—and Sean’s too—lived. Many of the houses in Laguna had winding paths leading from their backyards down to private beaches of pinkish-white, pristine sand.

It was a neighborhood of gently meandering streets, neat lawns, groomed flowerbeds, and well-maintained homes. Late-model Cadillacs, shiny as the day they were bought, were displayed in the driveways.

They arrived at May Ellen Farrady’s Spanish Mediterranean ranch in what was doubtless record time. Across the street was a line of neatly parked cars, seven of them. Granny May’s guests were already assembled. A dozen butterflies took flight in Lily’s stomach.

Lily pulled into her grandmother’s U-shaped driveway, giving the steering wheel a hard yank. She’d hoped the jolting turn might rap Sean’s elbow against the window, but she was clean out of luck today.

Just remember to breathe,
she told herself as she turned off the car’s engine. It wasn’t such a big deal to be walking into her grandmother’s home for the first time in ten years. But, God, she wished she could be doing this without Sean McDermott’s sharp gaze watching her every move.

The thought of him observing her had Lily pausing, her hand on the car door latch. “I can’t help but wonder, McDermott. Even if I were to try to fix this study, how do you think you’d be able to tell?”

Sean shook his head, his expression one of grave disappointment. “Not as quick as you used to be, Lily. Preparations for the season aren’t in full swing yet; there’s lots of open time in my schedule. I’ve decided to keep you company, go on some of your dives.”

Her laugh of amusement filled the car. “Oh, please! Do you have any idea how many dives we’ll be making to collect our samples? I estimate close to twenty-five. Sometimes we’ll be diving twice in one day. Naturally, Mayor McDermott, you’re welcome to join my team and me on as many expeditions as you wish. But I’m truly intrigued. . . . What could you hope to discover or, rather,
uncover
? After all, you wouldn’t know the difference between a fire sponge and a fire hydrant.”

“True. But I know
you
, Lily, only too well. And I know exactly how you feel about me. So if anything about your work on the reef strikes me as remotely—pardon the expression—fishy, I’ll nail you publicly.”

Shock had Lily’s mouth hanging open. “What?” she gasped.

“You heard me. You fool with this project, and I will smear a big, black, messy mark on that twenty-four carat reputation of yours.”

The nerve of him.
How dare he imply that she might try and manipulate a scientific study. “Now it’s your turn to listen, Mr. Mayor. I don’t give a damn about your political ambitions, or your plans for Coral Beach,” she hissed. “They mean nothing to me. The only thing I care about is the condition of this town’s reef. You managed to get one thing right, though. I do have a good reputation. It’s excellent actually. Say one thing to defame it, and I will sink your political career faster than the
Titanic
.” Incensed, Lily shoved the car door open and scrambled out. Sean’s opened in tandem.

His words carried over the sound of doors slamming, one after the other. “I always think it’s great to clear the air like this. Must admit, I’m looking forward to these next few weeks. Diving with a world-renowned scientist. Hey, maybe I’ll even drop by the lab; we could do an experiment together, just for old times’ sake. Wouldn’t that be fun, Lily?”

Lily glared at his smiling face. Her most fervent wish was that they might already be in the water. So she could drown him.

As if he could read her mind, Sean shook his head. “Shame on you, Lily,” he cheerfully mocked. “Now, let’s see a big, happy smile for your Granny May.”