for me,” David said.
“Come on. You’re not going to crash after one beer, buddy.”
“No, a Coke will do fine for me.” David looked up and caught Alex’s eyes across the room. She felt a chill leap across the open space. For a man so determined to see to her safety, he looked a lot like he wanted to throttle her. Apparently he hadn’t enjoyed his night on the porch.
But he had stayed there. And he believed her, believed that the body she had discovered was Alicia Farr’s, and that she herself might well be in real danger.
But from who?
Since she wasn’t captaining any boat, she turned to the bar and asked Warren, the grizzled old sailor who owned the place, for a beer.
“Sure thing, Alex. How’s it going over there? It’s been a little slow around here.”
“Really? I’m not sure about the hotel, but the dives and swims have been full,” she told him.
Setting her glass down, he pointed at the television. “Storm season.”
“Summer is always slower than winter. Northerners stay home and sweat in their own states during the summer,” she reminded him.
He grinned. “Maybe, but we usually get a bigger Florida crowd around here than we’ve been getting lately.”
She glanced at the TV above the bar. “Is something going on now? I haven’t seen any alerts. The last tropical storm out veered north, right?”
“Yep. Now there’s a new babe on the horizon. She just reached tropical-storm status, and she’s been named Dahlia, but they think she’s heading north, too. They think she might reach hurricane status sometime, but that she’ll be off the Carolinas by then. Still, people don’t seem to be venturing out as much as usual. Thank God you bring your guests over here. Right now, frankly, you’re helping me survive.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure business will pick up,” she assured him.
“I see your ex is here. It’s always good for business when he shows up here. Word gets out, makes people feel like they’re coming to a real ‘in’ place. Still, it’s kind of a surprise to see him. You all right?”
“Of course. We’re still friends on a professional level,” Alex said.
“You know what I think?” Warren asked her.
“What?”
He leaned low against the bar. “I think he came here for you.”
“Mmm,” she said. Me, and whatever excitement and treasure Alicia had in store, she thought, but she remained silent on the subject.
Then she asked, “Warren, you know who Alicia Farr is, right? Has she been around?”
“Nope, not that I’ve heard about.”
“Well, thanks.”
“Who’s the blond Atlas with your ex?” Warren asked.
“Tourist.”
“Not your typical tourist,” Warren commented, wiping a bar glass dry.
“No, I agree.” She shrugged. “Thanks, Warren,” she told him. The place was thatch-roofed and open, but she suddenly needed more air. She took her beer and headed outside. She walked along the attached dock, where the dive boat had pulled in, came to the end and looked out at the water, studying the Icarus.
She wasn’t docked; David had anchored her and come in by way of the dinghy. A moment’s nostalgia struck her. She had really loved the Icarus, and she did feel a pang that the beautiful sailing vessel wasn’t a part of her existence anymore.
She had fair compensation in her life, she knew. Diving, here off the Florida coast, would always be a joy, no matter who was on the tour. And she had her dolphins. They might actually belong to the corporation that owned Moon Bay, but they were her babies. Shania, especially. Wounded, just treated and beginning to heal when Alex had come on board, the adolescent dolphin was her favorite—though, naturally, she’d never let the other dolphins know. But she felt as if she and Shania had gained trust and strength at the same time. She had noticed that Shania followed her sometimes. One night, sipping a drink at the Tiki Hut, she had looked up to find the dolphin, nose above the surface, watching her from the lagoon.
And she had learned to live alone. By the end of her whirlwind one-year marriage to David, she had been alone most of the time anyway. Her choice, she reminded herself in fairness. But he never wanted to stay in one place, and she had longed to establish a real base, a real home. Too many times, he had been with a woman who shared his need for constant adventure. Like Alicia Farr. And she had let the doubts slip in and take over. When she had filed the papers and he hadn’t said a single word, she had forced herself to accept the truth—she wasn’t what he wanted or needed. He had Alicia, and others like her.
He had been planning on meeting Alicia at Moon Bay. And now he suspected she was dead.
With that thought, she dug into the canvas bag she’d brought ashore, found her cell and called the sheriff’s office. She was certain she was going to have to leave a message, but Nigel Thompson’s assistant put her right through.
“Hey, Alex.”
“Hey, Nigel. I’m sorry to bother you, but…I’m concerned.”
“Of course. But listen, I checked all the ferry records. No one’s missing. Everyone who checked into Moon Bay is alive and well and accounted for. And all the daytrippers and people who checked out of Moon Bay were on the ferries out. Usually there are people in their own boats who come by way of the Moon Bay marina, but not yesterday.”
“Thanks, Nigel,” she murmured.
“Alex?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think you’re easily fooled. I sent some men out last evening to walk the grounds. But they didn’t find anything.”
“Thank you, Nigel. I guess…I don’t know. Thank you anyway.”
“Sure thing.”
She snapped the phone closed.
She nearly jumped a mile when a hand fell on her shoulder. She spun around, spilling half her beer.
It was just Jeb.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you go out, so I followed. Want to wander into a few shops with me? I need a tie.”
“You need a tie?”
He grimaced. “A friend is getting married up in Palm Beach next week. I’ve got the makings of a suit, but I don’t own a single tie.”
Her own thoughts were driving her crazy, but she couldn’t think of a rational step she could take to solve any of her dilemmas. Might as well go tie shopping.
“So…where’s
