Sterling's Reasons (3 page)
“Yes.” She sat back next to him and noticed a strange low charge of electricity start in her arm and travel to the pit of her stomach. “I know. And I’m very sorry it happened. It must be terrible for you, but dinner won’t alter any of the facts, and I’m starved. From the looks of things,” she waved her arm in the direction of the trash, “you haven’t been eating well yourself. I don’t like to dine alone. Come on, no place fancy, and I’ll treat.” After a moment, she flashed a smile at him.
He seemed to have come to a conclusion. Sterling could see the muscles working in his jaw.
Abruptly, he stood up. Grabbing the empty vodka bottle, he pitched it against the wall viciously. Glass shattered, sending shards of it skittering across the floor to mix with the sand near the sliding door.
Sterling jolted, startled.
Raking his hand through his hair, he wheeled around to face her. “You’re not a reporter and you claim you’re not with Internal Affairs. Then who the hell are you?”
She looked from the mess on the floor to the man towering in front of her.
Cautious yet resolved, she stood, losing some of the patience she had been testing. “Sterling Powell. I’m thirty years old, I work in New York. I’m not married. I’m here on a vacation that started out badly, but I’m determined to
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Joey Light
straighten that out. I want dinner, Mr. MacDaniels, and I want you to go with me.”
“Sterling…” He tested her name. “Why do you want to have dinner with me?” His eyes traveled the length of her and back up.
She headed for the door, carefully avoiding the broken glass. “It’s almost three now. How about six-thirty? That’ll give me time to unpack and take a bath.
I had a rotten start this morning, a worse flight, and now I find I have a troll for a neighbor. So, think of it as an act of mercy. You’re a policeman. Look at it as your duty, if you must.” She flashed another smile at him and was gone.
He stood there a full five seconds. “What the hell was that?” he questioned the thin air. Whirling, he flung himself back on the couch and muttered, “An act of mercy…look at it as your duty? A cold day in hell!”
20
Chapter Two
He was bored enough to waste one evening on the broad. After all, his social calendar wasn’t
that
full. Wiping the steam from the shower off his mirror, he sneered at himself. Leaning his hands on the sink, he examined what he saw. His eyes were darkened by shadows underneath. His face was almost gaunt. He looked like hell. He sure felt like hell. He ran a hand down his rib cage and his flat stomach. Besides, he hadn’t had a decent meal since he’d arrived. Hadn’t wanted one. Still didn’t. Joe slapped aftershave on his face from a nearly empty plastic bottle. He ignored it when he bumped it and it fell on the floor to twirl into a corner.
Naked, he stalked from the bathroom to his room and rummaged through the clothes he’d thrown in a suitcase before he left. He grabbed black jeans from the pile and pulled them on. He could play along with her until he found out what she was up to. He peeled a shirt from a hanger and shrugged it on. He was good at pretending to do one thing while actually doing another. Yanking a sport coat from the post of his bed, he flung it on.
In the living room, he searched for his keys, growing frustrated with the clutter. One swipe of his hand cleared the end table of several magazines, an ashtray, and his keys. He grabbed them and stuck them in his pocket. After checking his wallet and assuring himself he had cash, he steamed to the door and jerked it open. He wasn’t a man to be tricked or manipulated. And she’d know that before this evening was over.
Joey Light
She heard him start his Jeep and drive it to the front of her cottage. She glanced in the mirror one more time and then pushed through the front door. It was precisely six-thirty.
“Hi,” she said brightly, and slid onto the seat. So, he had showered and shaved. She could smell the soap and the spicy aftershave. He had put on a light gray corduroy sport jacket over a black shirt and black jeans. In short, he looked wonderful.
“Where do you want to go?” He slammed the Jeep in first and spun out in the sand onto the asphalt road without waiting for her answer.
“Anywhere they serve big burgers and greasy french fries. I love junk food, you might as well know that now.” She sized him up. “I figure you for a steak and potatoes man. Gravy all over, right?”
He looked straight ahead and drove. Idle chatter wasn’t his way. Not before and certainly not now. He turned west and headed toward the highway. He’d find someplace decent and get this over with.
She cast a quick glance at him. He hadn’t even said she looked pretty and she had deliberately put on her black silk slacks with the white blouse and black lace around the cuffs.
He remained silent as she made comments on the passing landscape or the shops and restaurants. He turned right over a wooden bridge and then into a parking lot half full of cars. The gravel grated beneath the tires as he came to an abrupt halt.
She opened her own door thinking he wouldn’t do it, only to almost collide with him when he came around to do just that. She let him take the door and hold it for her. Sterling saw that his eyes checked out her legs as she got out. She ignored what was a natural, manly thing to do. Tucking her arm through his, she walked up the wooden ramp with him. It was there again. That charge of 22
Sterling’s Reasons
electricity, like rubbing a balloon against her hair. So, he was a good-looking man and it was only natural for her to respond to him. He had a good build and, despite his surliness, she had already honed in on a gentleness that lurked just beneath the surface. He was going through a bad time and she had to be patient with him.
The restaurant was wonderful. It was as if she had been propelled back in time to the old, serious fishing days. Nets hung from the ceiling full of all kinds of shells. Fish were mounted on the walls. The lights were low; the music slow.
An apple-cheeked man led them to a table next to the window. It was covered with a blue linen cloth and set with gleaming silverware. The candle that glowed in the middle was a miniature ship’s lantern.
Idly running her finger around the rim of the waiting coffee cup, Sterling commented cheerfully, “This is wonderful. Have you been here before? Look at the ropes and the shells. Aren’t they the strangest wall hangings? Sort of a collage of pieces of wood painted different colors.”
He sat back and ignored the menus being placed in front of them.
“Would the Mr. and Mrs. like a drink before dinner?” the waiter asked.
She didn’t miss the narrowing of Joe’s eyes before he ordered a vodka martini for himself and a Salty Dog for the lady.
As the waiter walked away she leaned forward and whispered, “I would have preferred a Coke, but that’s okay. What is a Salty Dog?”
He lipped a cigarette out of the pack and lit it with an expensive gold lighter.
“Smoke?”
“I don’t mind.”
“No, do you?”
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Joey Light
“Oh, no. Did once, with my brother. Got sicker than a dog. I like this place, Mr. MacDaniels.” Happily, she scanned the menu. “I’m going to have the Gangplank Burger. What are you ordering?”
“Some answers. What’s your game, lady?”
Okay, she could be tough, too. “Look, MacDaniels.” She lowered the menu and glared at him over the top of it. “If all you want is to play twenty questions with me, do it later. All I want is a nice restful dinner, with a relaxed companion.”
This broad has left the realm of reality,
he thought. He shook his head slightly and wondered again at his decision to come here with her. He could be home now, stretched out on that couch…doing what? Anything he wanted to. But none of that was what he wanted to be doing. Everything was wrong. Everything was destroyed. By his own hand.
He drew a long breath and forced a smile. He planned on getting some information. He’d try the easy way first.
She wasn’t prepared for the transformation a mere curling of his lips did to his face. He went from being handsome to being gorgeous. From foreboding to dangerous. From interesting to intriguing. She let her eyes linger on his smirk.
“For now, no more questions. But later I want answers.” His eyes burned directly on hers over the smile and Sterling felt waves of anticipation roll through her. Anticipation of what she didn’t know, but it was definitely there.
By the time the waiter took their orders, Sterling was glad to see that MacDaniels had forced himself to relax. He was actually trying to appear to be enjoying himself. When Sterling looked out the window all she could see was their reflections. They looked wonderful together. His dark, powerful look and her gentle, sunny one. Her eyes caught his in the glass and held. There was no smile now. He was back to that thoughtful look. It had a power to it all its own.
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Sterling’s Reasons
She felt it clear down to her toes. She was saved by the approach of the waiter bringing their plates.
As she had predicted, he had steak, potatoes, and gravy. To her delight, her burger had to be cut in half and pressed down to be bite-size. The fries smelled delicious, and she dipped one of them in the side order of hot cheddar cheese she had asked for.
Oh, she had enjoyed the Salty Dog but she loved this. She groaned in delight as she put a cheese-laden fry in her mouth. “Oh, this is so good. Want a taste?”
He simply looked at her over his steak so she peeled the burger apart and shook some salt and pepper on it. “I guess not. Some other time, though. You don’t know what you’re missing.” She threw him a smile as she steered the food toward her mouth.
“How can anyone who enjoys eating so much stay so skinny?”
It was the first civilized statement he had made since she met him, so she ignored his reference to her body and said, “I walk a lot. Besides, I just refuse to put on weight. Metabolism or something. And I work hard. I don’t get to eat like this as often as I would like. How’s your steak?”
“It’ll sustain life.”
“A man ought to enjoy food more than that. Just what do you do for entertainment, Mr. MacDaniels? I didn’t even see a TV in your cottage.”
“Read. Walk. Swim. I don’t need to be entertained.”
“Wonderful. Then tomorrow we can swim after breakfast and walk before lunch.”
He leaned forward over the table toward her. “What’s this
we
stuff? I suppose
we
could read before going to bed, too.”
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Joey Light
She let that hang in the air. He was baiting her and she was not going to take it. He was using all his policeman brain cells on her. “If it suits you. But I’ll have to take one of your books to my cottage. I didn’t bring any.”
He sipped his martini and watched her. She ignored him and ate her dinner, looking around and enjoying the atmosphere.
When she climbed in his Jeep she felt like a cat. She wanted to find a shadowy spot and go to sleep. He headed back toward the cottages.
“Oh, wait! Look, there’s a doughnut shop. Stop a minute, will you, I want to get a box for the morning. What kind do you like?”
He wheeled the Jeep in the lot and braked to a sudden halt. He had managed to accomplish absolutely nothing tonight and he wanted his solitude back again.
Anything to get her to shut up and go home. “Cinnamon twistees.”
“Okay. I like the ones with the cream in the middle. Pure sugar. And the chocolate ones. Umm.”
He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned his face close. “Just get the damn things.”
She was putting a strain on him, and by now she figured that was what she needed to do so that he would put up with her. If she made it too easy, he would simply dismiss her. He didn’t know it yet, but she could get a lot worse.
Back in the Jeep and heading home, she breathed deeply. “I thought I was full, but after smelling these, I don’t know.”
The fact that he laughed out loud surprised her; that he shook his head and did it again pleased her. Sterling tilted her head and looked at him. Satisfied, she relaxed in the seat. She could see her plan was working.
He let her out at her door. “Aren’t we going to walk some of this off?” she challenged.
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Sterling’s Reasons
He looked at her and seemed to be making some sort of judgment. “Half an hour, in front of your steps. And, Powell, wear shoes.”
She wore shoes. Bright yellow hightops. Her skimpy matching green shorts and top let the slightly cooling evening breeze caress her midsection. He was waiting for her when she jogged down the steps.
“I thought you said walk,” he said irritably as he jogged to catch up and then fell in step beside her.
“Jog and then walk. So, Mr. MacDaniels, when are you going back?”
He was silent for a moment and then, without looking at her, he simply answered with another question. “Back to where?”
“The department. How long did you take off?” It felt good to run, and she turned her face toward the setting sun to feel the last strong rays subside.
“I’ll answer one question when you answer one.” She heard his breathing become slightly labored. “Out of shape for a cop. Been laying around too long already. Okay, what’s your question?”
“Who are you?”
“Lord, MacDaniels, we’ve already been through this. How about this. I’m a psychopath or an axe murderer. Like that better?”
They jumped over some driftwood. “Right. And I’m Magnum and this is Hawaii. Yeah, I could learn to live with fairy tales. That all you know about?”
“You skipped your answer. One question for one answer, not question for question. You set the rules. Now play by them.”
He sent her a dissolving look, but she just smiled at him.
“I’m not going back.” He looked out to sea as they ran.
