Gideon to keep me company, no?”
As if speaking his name conjured him into appearing, Gideon came down the stairs and entered the kitchen with long, floor-eating strides. “I need to do a patrol of the island,” he said tersely. “If you need me, I’ll have the two-way with me.”
“Thank you, dear. You’re too good to me.”
An odd, pained look flashed in Gideon’s blue eyes before he nodded goodbye and headed back through the front door.
“How did Mr. Stone come to be your caretaker?” Shannon asked curiously, seeing an answering pain in her hostess’s eyes.
Lydia smiled, but there was anguish in her expression. “My son died saving his life.”
* * *
A BOUT A QUARTER mile north of the house, Gideon found the spot on the beach where the raft had tried to come ashore. Something like a Zodiac would be able to accommodate a crew of four, the number of men Mrs. Ross had seen from the widow’s walk. It would also fit Mrs. Ross’s description of the vessel she’d seen.
A fishing boat off course might be an accidental visitor. But a Zodiac—it made no sense that a Zodiac or any sort of motorized raft would have been traveling the Gulf of Mexico on a pleasure cruise. More likely, it had been a landing boat from a larger craft, like the Hatteras or something even larger.
He’d retrieved his binoculars from the Lorelei before he started his island circuit and lifted them now toward the Gulf of Mexico stretching in turquoise splendor as far as the eye could see. There were shrimp boats out on the water, even the occasional sailboat. And fishing boats, of course.
Any one of the larger fishing craft could have carried the intruder boat, he recognized with frustration. Could someone in a boat have used a rubber dinghy to attempt an island landing, not realizing the place was inhabited?
He turned around and looked toward the house from where he stood by the furrowed sand. Stafford House’s facade was clearly visible even from here, and would have been even more visible from the water.
Nobody could have mistaken Nightshade Island as deserted.
Movement on the second-floor veranda caught his eye. Shannon Cooper stepped out onto the balcony, joined by Lydia. Stepping behind the shelter of a scrubby sea oats stand, Gideon raised his binoculars for a closer, more covert look.
Shannon’s straight, dark hair lifted in the breeze coming off the Gulf, fluttering around her heart-shaped face. Wind flattened her blouse against her body, revealing the shape of her small, round breasts and narrow waist.
Fire licking at his belly, he lowered the binoculars with a grumble of frustration. He’d been isolated on the island too long.
He resumed his walk around the island, trying to think who might want to sneak onto Nightshade Island and for what purpose.
But in the back of his mind, Shannon Cooper still leaned against the railing of the second-floor veranda, her hair floating in the breeze and her dark eyes full of mysteries.
Chapter Three
Gathering clouds hastened twilight, plunging the island into shadows soon after 5:00 p.m. Lydia had insisted Shannon rest before dinner, so she’d gladly taken the chance to shower off the heat of the day and change into fresh clothes.
“No need for formality around here, dear,” Lydia had said with a smile. “We live on an island. Who’s to care if we look a bit shabby?”
When Shannon ventured downstairs at six, she found Gideon alone in the kitchen, slicing onions. He glanced at her as she perched on one of the breakfast bar stools. “Settled in?”
“Yes, thank you.” She tried to discern what he was preparing from the ingredients—sliced onions, red bell peppers and pieces of corn. “Stir fry?”
“Crab boil,” he corrected.
“Where are the crabs?”
He slanted another look at her. “That’s your job. There’s a bucket outside and you can see the beach from here—”
“Don’t let him tease you, Shannon.” Lydia entered through the nearest French door, carrying a handful of zinnia cuttings. She arranged the colorful flowers in a clear vase and filled the bottom with water. “The crabs and shrimp are in the cooler. A nice man delivered them to us this morning.” She set the flowers in the middle of the small dining table just beyond the kitchen. “Aren’t these lovely?”
“Beautiful,” Shannon agreed. “I caught a glimpse of the garden from my window. It’s amazing.”
Lydia smiled with pleasure as she washed her hands. “My husband loved to garden, so we made a habit of bringing in soil to fill the raised beds every spring.” She looked with sad fondness at Gideon. “Dear Gideon helped me this year. It makes me a little weepy, I confess, to think that I won’t be tending the garden next year.”
“You’ll be able to have a garden where you’re moving, won’t you?” Shannon asked.
Lydia retrieved a large pot from one of the lower cabinets and set it on the counter next to Gideon. “Yes. My sister-in-law tells me the backyard of my bungalow is perfect for gardening.” She sighed. “It won’t be the same, but I imagine it will be lovely anyway.” She went back into the garden again.
“I made her sad,” Shannon said with regret.
“Everything makes her sad these days,” Gideon said shortly.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Well,” he said quietly, “how about we start with what you’re really doing here?”
His question caught her off guard. “What?”
“I did some checking into Cooper Security. You’re not the kind of outfit that hires out to help a rich widow pack up her house.”
“What I’m here to do is a little more complicated than that.”
He shot her a skeptical look. “Three months ago, Cooper Security helped put a high-ranking State Department official back in jail. And now I’m supposed to believe you’re just here to archive General Ross’s papers and collections? Really?”
“We do a lot of different kinds of jobs at Cooper Security,” she protested.
Lydia returned to the kitchen, carrying a large bucket of blue crabs and jumbo Gulf shrimp. “Hope you’re not allergic, Shannon. I suppose I should have asked before I planned the dinner tonight.”
“Not allergic,” she assured her hostess. “And my stomach is growling already!”
Within an hour, the pile of vegetables and seafood on the counter had transformed into a rustic dinner for three. It was messy and delicious, and by the time she helped clear the remains of their meal from the table, Shannon was stuffed and getting sleepy.
“I believe I’m going to call it a night, my dears,” Lydia announced a little later, as the clock crept toward eight-thirty. “I have a Dick
