the motorboat sped forward, dark clouds blanketed the moon and stars, and the mainland was quickly lost from view. Short, choppy waves and buffeting northwestern winds seemed strong enough to capsize the creaking boat.
The mournful tolling of a buoy came closer in the rolling fog. Could he see where they were going? Would they pass Greystone Island in the fog? Fleeting glimpses of scattered watery lights appeared from time to time. Then darkness again. Were they passing all the islands dotting the waters off the coast of Maine and blindly plunging out into the rough Atlantic Ocean?
The nightmare was never-ending. Ashley’s stomach took a sickening dip every time the boat fell into a deep trough in the sucking water.
When the throbbing vibrations of the boat beneath her feet began to lessen, she clutched the side of the tossing boat, fearing the motor had given out and that they soon would be adrift in the darkness and fog.
Jenkins suddenly gave a jubilant shout, as though surprised by his own navigation. “There she be! Greystone Cove. Pretty as you please.”
Thank God, she thought as watery lights ahead grew brighter and the movement of the boat slowed. Her relief was shattered an instant later.
Jenkins misjudged the landing completely. He hit the pier with a jolt that landed Ashley in the bottom of the drenched boat. Her suitcase and shoulder purse tumbled on top of her.
A man with a deep voice shouted, “You blasted fool, Jenkins. What in blazes are you thinking? Nobody with brains worth two cents would make a crossing in this weather.”
Jenkins mumbled something.
The stranger approached the boat and offered a pair of firm hands to help Ashley out of the boat. At the same time, he demanded, “Are you crazy? Hiring a drunken fool to bring you out to the island at night and in this weather?”
She stiffened her shivering shoulders as she glared back at him. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You must be reckless—or stupid. You’re damn lucky to be on solid ground. I’ve got a heater in the car.” He picked up her suitcase and started down the pier.
She didn’t move. She was not going anywhere with this stranger. He was a tall, well-built man, wearing jeans, a knit pullover, a windbreaker and no hat. In the shadowy light, she guessed he was probably in his thirties. He might not be drunk like Jenkins, but he presented another kind of threat.
When she didn’t follow, he turned around. “Are you going to stand there shivering all night?”
“Who are you?” she demanded without moving an inch.
Jenkins snickered. “He’s a big shot.”
“That’ll be enough out of you, Jenkins,” he said as he walked back to Ashley. “I was just trying to get you out of this weather before the storm breaks, but I should have introduced myself. Brad Taylor, police officer.”
“You’re a policeman? Where’s your uniform?” she demanded. Big-city skepticism instantly flared.
“I’m off duty.”
“He’s a big shot around here,” Jenkins repeated. “Likes to throw his weight around.”
Ashley felt an instant rush of relief. She quickly introduced herself. “Please take me to the police department. My name is Ashley Davis. I need to know what’s being done to find my sister.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize your urgency.” As increasing blasts of wind and rain whipped the water, he said, “Let’s get in the police cruiser and I’ll explain the situation.”
“What about me?” Jenkins asked, following them. “Where’s my pay?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Ashley quickly drew her wallet out of the shoulder purse and gave him the agreed-upon amount.
“Thank ye.” Clutching the bills, he sauntered off, obviously heading for a well-lighted bar near the wharf.
“He’s already drunk,” Ashley said. “I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”
“You’re damn lucky. We’ve lost a lot better pilots than him in rough waters like this.” He guided her to a police car parked close to the pier. He told her there were only a few cars on the island because they had to be brought in by hired transport. The ferries were passengers only. As he slipped into the driver’s seat beside her, she could see shaggy, reddish-brown hair that framed well-defined cheekbones, a strong chin, and an expressive mouth. He was probably darned attractive in a uniform, but there was a sexy toughness about him that was disturbing. Should she ask to see his badge? What if he had an agenda of his own for offering her his help?
“Do you often patrol the wharf at night?”
“No, I just happened to be down at the wharf when I saw Jenkins ram the boat into the pier,” he said as he started the car.
“Has there been any news of my sister?”
He shook his head.
Anxiety made her voice strained. “I want to talk to someone in charge.”
“I guess that would be me.”
She must have misunderstood. “What?”
“I’m the only law officer on the island.”
“No, that can’t be.”
“I’m afraid it is,” he replied firmly. “Greystone Island has a year-round population of only a few hundred people. Granted, in the summer months it doubles, but for the most part, the demands for law enforcement are slight. I can handle it by myself and with my one deputy. But the fact is—”
“That you’re not qualified to handle anything serious,” she finished in a strained voice. She couldn’t believe it! Her sister was missing and there wasn’t any qualified police force looking for her.
“You’re quick to assume the worst, aren’t you?” he replied as his dark brown eyes appraised her.
“I don’t hide from the truth in any situation.” Her lips trembled. “Not even one as devastating as this one.”
“I see.” His jaw tightened. “Well, I was about to assure you that I have over ten years of experience as a police investigator for the state of Maine. I’ve handled almost every kind of crime you want to mention, and I came to Greystone Island a couple of years ago as the resident police officer.”
“Why?” Her tone clearly inferred there must have been some impropriety involved in the change of assignment.
“I was raised on the island and for personal reasons wanted to come back,” he answered curtly.
“I see.” But she didn’t. She was too much of a city girl to imagine living on a tiny island that was hardly more than a speck in the ocean.
His jaw tightened. “I’ve handled your sister’s disappearance as I would any case, here or on the mainland. A hunting party was organized to scour the island, radio announcements were transmitted to boats
