right," she said politely.
He hesitated. "Amy, is it the writing or is it something else?"
Her head came up quickly. "Whatever it is, it's my problem, Jed. You don't have to worry about it."
"I'll make that decision."
She bit back an automatic protest, knowing instinctively that Jed would only see it as a challenge. "Suit yourself."
"Are you afraid to let me get involved?"
"You know as well as I do that this relationship has been running along very careful lines, Jed. Neither of us has gotten overly involved. I thought that was the way we both wanted it."
"Things change," he suggested casually. "Take tonight, for instance."
She didn't know what to say to that so she concentrated on the brandy. When she was finished she handed the glass back to him and tried a small smile. "Thanks. I needed that, as the old saying goes. If you're going to get any sleep tonight, I'd better move back out to the other room."
"No. You're staying here with me." He set the glass down on a nightstand and got back into bed beside her.
In his present mood, neither sweet reason nor an argument would move him. Without a word, Amy slid back down under the covers, letting the warmth of the brandy take hold. For a long time she looked up at the ceiling, aware of the weight of Jed's arm across her breasts. Some things, it seemed, you couldn't escape—things like nightmares and panic attacks and, Amy was inclined to believe, Jedidiah Glaze.
"Jed?"
"Hmm?"
"I think I'm going to go visit my parents."
He was silent, but she sensed he was waiting. Amy took a deep breath. "Do you want to come with me?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
Amy realized she had been holding her breath. She let it out in a soft sigh. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"I don't want you to feel obligated or anything."
"I don't feel obligated or anything."
"If you have other plans..."
"I don't have any other plans. I could use the vacation."
"You're sure?"
"Shut up, Amy," he said gently. "I'm sure."
Amy began to relax. She knew it was more than the brandy. She had no choice about going back to the island. Deep down, she had known she'd have to face it at some time. But having Jed along was going to make it a little easier. There was a silent strength in him that she might be able to emulate.
It wasn't just Jed's strength she wanted to study, Amy realized. She also wanted to look into her mother's eyes and try to discover what it took to live with the shadow of murder for twenty-five years. Her mother, apparently, had learned how to do it. Amy needed that secret if she wanted to keep herself from going off the deep end.
Chapter Four
"Artie, I've had it with waiting. This thing is eating me alive. Jesus, man, it's been eight months since the last try. We've got to get moving."
Daniel Renner gripped the telephone the way he did when he was making a pitch or closing a deal. He sat hunched forward on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared sightlessly at the gray carpet between his feet. He radiated intense excitement, as well as a deep, restless impatience that he seemed to have been born with. The world couldn't move fast enough for Renner. He was always looking forward to the next Big Deal.
Those restless and intense qualities had translated well into the business of selling. Daniel Renner could project an enthusiasm and a sense of integrity that was completely false but highly believable, which made him a natural salesman. He was twenty-six years old and had sold everything from drugs to securities.
The days of peddling illegal substances were long gone, however. Renner had discovered there was more challenge and prestige to be had dealing artificially hyped stocks and other assorted but equally shaky securities. The day he started working as an account executive in a small L.A. brokerage firm had been the day he knew he was headed in the right direction.
Typically, he had become impatient with the life of a commissioned salesman almost immediately. He had