Oceans of Fire (20 page)

“YOU don’t need to help me,” Abigail lied as she watched Aleksandr maneuver over the rough sand, carrying her kayak. “I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself. In fact, I’m probably far better at it than you.”

“I wouldn’t think of insulting you that way,” Aleksandr said. “Where do you want to put in the water?”

“The best place is over there.” She indicated a long sandy beach near where he’d already unloaded his kayak. “The breakers are mild and we’ll have less trouble getting to the rocks. We want to paddle between them where it’s a bit calmer and we can study the formations along the coastline. I know several caves and inlets capable of hiding a boat, but the driver would have to be an expert and the water fairly calm, which it was that night. We should be able to get to them easily using the kayaks.” She knew he enjoyed white-water river kayaking, but she doubted if he’d done much in the ocean. The Pacific coast could be particularly rough.

“You’re the boss.”

Abigail glared at him. She had the childish desire to kick him in the shins as he walked with the kayak on his shoulder without the least indication that the weight or shape of it was a burden.

The boats slid into the water easily just as she predicted. More often than not, the water along the Mendocino coastline was rough with enormous swells so Abigail felt lucky to be able to paddle between rocks where the water was calm as they set out.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Aleksandr observed. She was beautiful, but he wasn’t about to make the mistake of telling her so. The sun shone on her hair, turning it into a vibrant blaze of color. Her skin looked soft and he tightened his grip on the oar to keep from reaching out to touch her. He ached to touch her. She’d given him insomnia and he paced most nights, staring up at the stars and wondering where in the world she was. Now she was with him and yet there could still be an ocean between them.

She narrowed her gaze against the sun. “Why aren’t you talking to Jonas about whatever you’re doing? He’s very good at his job.”

“I agree he’s good at his job, and it’s obvious he means a great deal to you and to your sisters. He’ll have his hands full investigating Danilov’s death.” He didn’t want to talk about Jonas Harrington and he damn well didn’t want to talk about Danilov. Cold rage swirled in his gut. He’d been fifteen minutes too late for Andre Danilov. The highway was narrow and winding and a car had pulled out in front of him, slowing him down. By the time he’d gotten around it and reached the marina, Danilov was dead. Sometimes it seemed like he was always running to catch up with killers and stumbling over the victims every time he turned around. Danilov had been a good man, a good agent, and Aleksandr was not going home without knowing he’d provided his own brand of justice.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?” Abigail dipped her paddle into the water and sent her kayak gliding over the surface.

“The two things are tied together.” Aleksandr kept pace effortlessly. “Danilov was undercover looking into the moving of artifacts and he was killed. I’d say there’s a direct connection to my investigation as well as the fact that he’s my responsibility. I’m going to find the son of a bitch who killed him.”

Abbey paused and looked over at his face. There was no inflection in his voice, no anger or rage, but he said it with absolute conviction. “You’re not just a policeman, are you, Sasha?”

He glanced at her as he sent his oar into the water with a powerful stroke so that his kayak shot ahead of hers. “Don’t ask if you don’t want to know something, Abbey,” he cautioned. He should have known he would reveal too much to her. She was good at picking up every nuance. A seeker of the truth. Even her voice could make a man want to confess his every sin… and, God only knew, he had a lot of them.

After his part in what had happened in Russia, Abigail feared him. He could see it in her eyes, in the shadows that lurked there. He hated that he’d done that, put those shadows there, but he had no way to change who he was or what he was. He couldn’t undo the past and he couldn’t erase what was a large part of his character.

“This just gets better and better, doesn’t it? Why in the world did you ever start up with me in the first place? I don’t think you even know who you are.”

“I know myself very well, Abbey, and I’ll be damned if I apologize for the choices I’ve made. They were hard decisions, but I had good reasons for making them.” He had sworn he wouldn’t defend himself, but he had underestimated her reaction to what had happened, and her stubborn refusal to give him a chance to explain had caught him unawares. In Russia she’d always been so gentle and compassionate, her love for him so complete and unwavering. He was at a loss as to how to deal with her. He knew she could be stubborn and he knew she had a temper, but he hadn’t counted on catching a tigress by the tail.

“Did you know about me? When I went to Moscow four years ago, did you know about my sisters and me?” It seemed ludicrous that someone in Russia would have knowledge of the Drakes, but her heart was beating overtime and she was certain she was right.

A gull shrieked overhead. Even with her dark glasses, the sunlight on the water dazzled her eyes when she attempted to read his expression. The kayak cut through the small swells as she paddled in silence. The surface resembled green glass and just below she could see occasional strands of kelp. She blinked rapidly as she stroked the oar through the water. “You did, didn’t you? It wasn’t just a chance meeting.”

Aleksandr heard himself swear. Inside his head, in his mind, he was repeating every curse he knew. She was burying their chances as surely as if she took out a gun and shot him through the heart. He couldn’t lie to Abigail, her voice always prevented that, but if he told the truth, she would never forgive him. “Don’t you think you have enough to condemn me with without going into how it all started? It started. I fell in love with you.” All he had in his defense was the truth. And it was only the truth that could seal the rift between them for all time.

They paddled fast in silence, past several sandy beaches, and entered a long stretch where the waves increased in size and strength. There were no rocks to use as protection and Abigail signaled to go out further from shore to avoid the larger breaking waves.

When they fell into a rhythm together in the calmer swells, Abigail glanced at him. It hurt to look at his face. She loved him so much she ached inside. “It mattered to me that you wanted Abigail Drake, just a woman without any magic, or any gift. Me. It mattered more than you know. Am I supposed to believe that the one part that’s real and the truth is that you fell in love with me, when everything else has been a lie?”

“Ask it of me then,” he challenged. “Your gift is to seek and find the truth. Ask me if I love you.”

She turned her face away from him, staring straight ahead as they glided along the stretch of beach that was unfortunately free of rocks. They wanted to run in close to the shore but it was impossible with the rougher swells so they continued paddling, keeping the coastline in sight.

Abigail usually enjoyed kayaking along the coast. She could see the water-cut rocks up close and get into places her outboard could never reach. Powering herself through the water gave her a tremendous feeling of freedom. Right now, she felt threatened in some undefined way. Aleksandr wasn’t in a conciliatory mood. In fact, if anything, she had the feeling he was angry with her.

“You aren’t going to ask me, are you?” He wanted to drag her to him and shake some sense into her. They were good together. They fit. His life had never been right until he had Abigail. He’d never felt complete. He’d never had a home or a family. He’d never had anyone to come home to. Hell, he’d never wanted to go home. Abigail had changed everything and he couldn’t go back to emptiness. She filled his life with laughter and love. She found soft spots in him, tenderness, a gentleness he’d never known he had.

“No.”

“I never thought you were a coward, Abbey.” He knew he’d put that wariness in her eyes. Could she feel pain over what he’d done if she didn’t still love him? He held on to that hope. His only hope. She was hurting and he had to be happy that at least she felt something for him.

“To be honest, Sasha, I don’t give a damn whether you think you love me or not. Yours isn’t the kind of love I’m looking for so just drop it.” Abigail gripped the paddle until her knuckles turned white. She was shaking with fury and if it weren’t for the fact that they were on the trail of killers, she would have turned back. But whomever he was searching for had not only killed his friend, they had nearly killed Gene and attempted to murder her as well.

The kayak glided through the rather flat expanse of ocean, Abigail’s attention on the shore. As they rounded the point she could make out a small beach in the distance where a group of women, most in billowy skirts and bright purple shirts, raced barefoot into the sea. The wind carried their laughter, a bright happy sound that warmed her.

“Do you see those women, Abbey?”

“They’re impossible to miss.” She found herself smiling at the bobbing red hats and squinted to try to pick out her aunt among them.

“They know how to live life. They participate and they find ways to be happy. You want to hold on to things that forever will keep us apart. For what?” He paused, turning his head to pin her with his steely eyes. “Tell me why you refuse to allow us to be happy.”

“I came out here to help you find your criminals, not to engage in some philosophical debate, Sasha. Did you think you’d climb into my bedroom and I’d just melt into your arms after what happened?” She turned to look at the women racing waves and leaping over white foam. They did look happy and they appeared to be having a wonderful time. Unexpectedly her heart ached. Carol had always known how to have fun. To love and forgive and to enjoy every moment of her life. She cared little what others thought, but stuck to her own code.

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me,” Abigail mused aloud. “Maybe I’ve forgotten my own code.”

He reached out and stilled her boat. “Do you see something up above the beach in the rocks, near that small grouping of trees?”

Abigail narrowed her vision and peered at the windswept trees. “I can’t really see anything. Was there movement?”

“Possibly. That is your aunt on the beach with the other women, isn’t it?”

Abigail took a slow sweep of the rocky cliffs, paying particular attention to the trees and shrubs directly above the beach where the women were piling driftwood for what she very much feared was an illegal fire. She didn’t have the prickle of awareness that sometimes came to her through her sisters, and her aunt was joyfully dancing, her arms waving gracefully in the air. Surely Carol herself would feel an alarm were she in danger.

Abigail dug her binoculars out of her pack and took another long look. The women formed a loose circle around the driftwood and, sure enough, small flames began to leap between the logs. One woman, and it was definitely her aunt Carol, stepped out of the circle to snap a photograph with the camera she always kept on a strap around her neck. Abigail centered her attention a second time on the cliff above the beach.

“I see them now,” Abigail said, relieved. “Yes, a couple of the local boys and a couple of their friends from Fort Bragg. They’re spying on the women. You don’t have to worry about them, Aunt Carol will take care of them.”

“Do you think she knows they’re there?” he asked as he relinquished his hold on her kayak.

“Of course she knows. Aunt Carol is just like Sarah. She definitely ‘knows’ things. The boys are probably hoping she’s going to do some kind of witchcraft for them to catch on film and show all their friends. Who knows, just to oblige them she might. She started the flames. More than likely Inez Nelson, who owns the grocery store in Sea Haven and pretty much runs the town, will box the boys in the ears when she sees them.”

“I like your aunt.” He was silent a moment. “And your sister Joley, too.”

She didn’t want him liking anyone in her family. “Come on, let’s get around the next point. There are rocks there and we can get closer to shore.”

Abigail took the lead, rowing strongly to get them away from the beach. Carol would know they were out on the ocean, watching her just as the snoopy teenage boys were. She didn’t want Carol to think she was spying on her.

Around the point several rocks rose out of the water. Aleksandr and Abigial powered the kayaks over the larger swells, timing their move to get closer to land. The small inlet looked promising. Occasionally a large wave would break over the boulders, but the water was much calmer as they made their way toward the shoreline.

Stony cliffs rose up from the ocean. Green and brown vegetation grew in every possible crevice, but the terrain looked bleak, worn and carved through the centuries by the water. One long finger of stone reached out into the ocean as if beckoning to them and as the first set of boulders yielded no caves, they paddled to the larger rock formation.

“There’s one here, Sasha,” Abigail said, inching her way to the darker entrance. “It’s small, more a grotto than an actual cave. I don’t think anyone could successfully hide here.” White water capped and foamed along the base of the rock and some sprayed into the air.

He struggled to find something genuine between them, a bridge to her. Something to ease the tension and give them a starting point. “It’s wild here. Beautiful and wild, Abbey. No wonder you love this place.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve always felt lucky growing up here.” It was much easier paddling in the calmer water and Abbey pointed to the shore where the beach sparkled and glittered everywhere he looked. “That’s Glass Beach, right in the middle of Fort Bragg. It’s very unique and quite beautiful in its own way. It has tons of polished glass and people come to find the right colors they want.“

“How can there be a beach of glass?”

“It was originally a dump site. For years, the ocean has pounded the glass, shaping and polishing it until the pieces look like beautiful glass stones.” Abigail gestured toward the huge rock formations jutting up along the shore. “I doubt if we’re going to find anything here, and in any case it’s too close to a popular, well-frequented beach. They’d want a place far more secluded.”