Free Hurricane Bay by Heather Graham Page B

you wouldn’t care?”
    â€œNot in the least.”
    â€œYou should still have a barbecue.”
    â€œSo you could have lots of help while you searched?” he said.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBye, Kelsey.”
    He strode away down the walk.
    â€œWhat time do you start work in the mornings?” she called after him.
    â€œWhenever the hell I feel like it!” He stopped, turning on his heel, staring at her. “You know…once I rise from my drunken stupor. And I lock my doors when I leave, so you’ll have to call if you want a personal guide while you try to find incriminating evidence against me.”
    Kelsey had come out the doorway behind him and was standing on the porch.
    He was about to walk away, aware that he would slam his way into his car. Instead he strode back to her so quickly that she didn’t have time to back away.
    â€œWhat the hell is it, Kelsey? What did I do to you that makes you mistrust me —yet you run out alone in the dark to see a man like Andy Latham?”
    He hadn’t touched her—he had managed not to do that. But he stood a breath away from her. He saw the flash of fire in her eyes and the tightness that gripped her from head to toe. He thought she was about to deny that there was any reason at all. But she didn’t.
    â€œYou know what you did to me,” she told him. Then she gritted her teeth, turning pale, and it was painfully apparent that she was horrified that the words had come out of her mouth.
    â€œWhat I did to you?” he repeated. “I didn’t do a damn thing to you, Kelsey. In fact, I should be angry for what you did to me. So that’s what this is all about?”
    â€œThis is all about the fact that I came to see Sheila, but she’s nowhere to be seen, and Nate said I should ask you because you had an argument with her and then she took off to your house. And she hasn’t been seen since. And because you could have done anything with your life and you’re spending it drinking yourself into some kind of oblivion in a lounge chair. It’s because there’s something going on, and you’re the only one with the knowledge and the training to deal with it, but instead you’re wasting your time in self-absorbed flagellation.”
    â€œYou don’t know anything about me, Kelsey. Nothing at all. Not anymore. Maybe I should have a barbecue. Let you tear up my place while I have friends around. Maybe I shouldn’t trust you alone at my house.”
    With that, he made his way to his car. He managed to open the door without ripping it from its hinges and even closed it without slamming it.
    In fact, he made it halfway down the block before punching the dashboard.

CHAPTER 4
    J esse Crane was standing out by the dock when Dane returned.
    Dane didn’t particularly mind darkness himself, but he kept a floodlight trained on the front and rear entries to the house and the dock. The last thing he wanted was someone stumbling onto his place despite the huge Private Road notice on the turnoff to Hurricane Bay and taking an accidental dive into the water. He’d never had a fear of thieves; the value of Hurricane Bay was in the island itself. Most of what he had that might be considered of value had more of a sentimental worth, though he supposed some of the collections his folks had gathered were good ones.
    Still, out on Hurricane Bay, he’d never even locked his doors—until today.
    â€œYou’re late,” Jesse called to him.
    â€œYeah, I know. Sorry.”
    â€œNo big deal. I would have watched the TV, except the house is locked.” Jesse was tall and gave the appearance of being lanky. He wasn’t. He was honed to a T . His hair was nearly black, dead straight and worn short. His eyes were a light hazel, almost yellow, and he had a way of looking at a person as if he already knew everything they might be trying to hide. He’d been with the Metro-Dade force