Severed Threads (14 page)

Rachel drew a deep, ragged breath and released it slowly. She shifted her concentration to the adjacent window just as a boat neared the stony reef. The white shimmering craft, capped with towering antennas of varying heights, was unlike any of the boats she’d seen in the past. Her current occupation, in a downtown corner office, provided no insight into the bustling activity on the waterfront, and for the past eight months, she’d preferred it that way.

Naomi returned from the kitchen lugging two crates in her arms. A shaggy white dog was following closely behind. "So what brings you out this way, Rachel?” she asked. After dropping her load of glasses on the back counter, she pulled the towel from her shoulder and began buffing the edge of the bar. The furry mongrel collapsed on the floor and looked up at Rachel with enormous, pitiful eyes. “Can't be my scorched gourmet coffee."

“
Actually, I’m just waiting for someone," Rachel replied. As soon as she saw flashes of light behind Naomi’s brown eyes, she wanted to take her words back. "It’s a client of mine," she amended, then wondered why she’d even bothered.

“
Must be someone
real
important.” Naomi snickered and returned to stacking glasses. After emptying one crate, she angled her head and tossed out a baited question. "Hey, you wouldn’t by any chance be meeting Chase Cohen?"

For a brief moment, Rachel was impressed by her intuitiveness. Then she realized word of Chase’s return had probably blown across town. Her brief history with him was hardly a secret.

“
So who’s your friend?” Rachel asked, hoping to change the subject.

“
Oh that’s Yuki…Chase’s dog. I keep an eye on him when he’s out.” A knowing smile formed on Naomi's lips. "That guy’s pure eye candy, if you ask me.”

“
His
dog
?”

“
No, Chase.”

“
Really? And here I thought you were happily married.”

“
Were
is right, but happy had nothing to do with it. I’ll tell you what…if I could keep that gorgeous man’s attention for more than an hour, I’d take Chase home with me and keep him locked up for good.”

Rachel remained silent, nursing her coffee. She had no interest in bringing Chase home or anywhere else. Just in recruiting his treasure-seeking skills.

"Well, would you look at that,” Naomi sparked. “Seems we’re both in luck. That’s his boat pulling up outside right now."

Rachel’s pulse quickened. She pushed her cup aside and slid off the stool. After rounding the bar in her black pumps, she joined Naomi at the window. Together, they watched the boat’s slow approach. After it turned and docked in a nearby slip, several men scrambled from the upper to lower decks, most likely attending to their prescribed duties.

"They’re in early today," Naomi announced.

Rachel’s insides twisted. She didn’t even bother to check her watch. The phone call she’d made to the dive shop's owner had provided her with
Alegria's
estimated arrival time. "So
that’s
his boat," she muttered to herself.

"Are you two on again?" Naomi’s gaze scoped Rachel’s face.

"Hardly," she said.

"Hmmm…well, that can change." A soft smile lifted the corners of Naomi’s lips. She sashayed toward the bar, appearing confident in her assessment.

Noisy seagulls pulled Rachel’s attention back outside. Chase had finished tying off his boat and was collecting his tanks. Although she had no intention of acknowledging his trim physique, she couldn’t stop herself. Like a sketch artist’s pencil, her gaze traced his broad shoulders, the ripples in his bronze sculpted abs and the edge of his low-rise jeans.

Chase’s chin suddenly lifted. A fortuitous look in her direction trapped her in an invasive stare. With their eyes still locked, she read her name on his moving lips. All sound evaporated from the air. The distance folded into itself like a collapsing spyglass, leaving no barrier between them. But then Chase’s face suddenly darkened. He tugged a t-shirt over his head and leaped onto the dock. With his pained expression tacked firmly in place, he strode briskly toward the entrance of the Crow’s Nest Bar.

Rachel distanced herself from the window. She waited against the wall, fingernails pressed into her palm. He pushed the door wide open and stepped inside. Barely ten feet away, he stood eyeing her from head to toe, not uttering a word. Yuki sprang to his feet and bounced around trying to get his owner’s attention. But aside from a quick pat on the head, Chase didn’t seem to notice.

"Hey, sweetheart," came from behind the bar. "Want your regular?"

"Later." His light blue eyes never left Rachel. "So, what are you doing here?" he asked.

Her heart skipped.

She should have anticipated his irritability, especially after their most recent exchange and her suggesting he leave town. At that moment, more than anything she wanted to flee. But her dire circumstances prevented an escape. Prevented a full explanation. "I came here to tell you that the board – " she began.

Ian blew in through the door carrying a sizeable box. "Matey, yer gonna need this." His gaze found Rachel. "Darlin'! What a nice surprise." He handed his load to Chase and crossed the floor to take hold of her hand. "Yer still the prettiest thing that ever was."

Rachel couldn't help but smile. The gentle giant had always been one of her favorite people. It had been hard to see him leave town after her father’s funeral. But after three months, there was no work to be found. At least nothing that would suit his disposition.

"I heard you were back," she said. "Sure hope you're managing to stay out of trouble."

Ian guffawed. "Course not. What fun would that be?"

From the corner of her eye, Rachel spied Chase's downturned mouth. It seemed he didn't appreciate their friendly exchange.

"Isn’t there somewhere you need to be?" he tossed at Ian.

The Irishman winked at Rachel. "Don’t' fret, darlin’. Everything's got a way of workin' out." He did an about-face and waved at Naomi. “Come on, Yuki.” The dog charged, leading Ian through the open doorway.

Chase shook his head and released a weighty breath. "What were you saying?" he asked.

It took a few seconds for Rachel's thoughts to reconnect. To plot a more receptive approach. "I thought you might like to know about your funding before – ”

"Oh, that," he interrupted. "So you came here to gloat. To tell me I got turned down...just like you expected."

"Actually, that's not the case. I got up early this morning to make phone calls. The board agreed to hold off on their decision for forty-eight hours. You know…to buy you some time."

His brow raised a fraction. "Now, exactly why would you do that? If memory serves me, you said there was nothing keeping me here and that I needed to go back to wherever I came from."

Naomi suddenly coughed – a reminder that they weren't alone. Before Rachel could react, Chase snatched her elbow and led her to an empty corner. He stepped back and rested his weight on one hip, waiting for an explanation.

Stay calm.
Her nail traced the seam on the edge of her blouse. “This is purely business," she said.
"
I’ve had time to reevaluate my decision. From what Dr. Ying has told me, the foundation would be greatly remiss by not participating. The last thing I would want to do is interfere if there was a chance – ”

Chase laughed out loud, leaving her speechless. When he finally regained control of himself, he motioned for her to take a seat.

She adamantly refused.

"No doubt about it…you’re as mystifying as ever," he jested. "Twelve hours ago, I was your worst enemy. Now you want to help me out in the worst way possible. So what’s going on, Rachel? There’s got to be a catch in all this."

Guilt weighed heavy on her heart. She braced her hand on the back of the chair, steadying her stance. "Don’t be silly," she said. "If you turn up evidence identifying the wreckage as the
Wanli II
, everyone would benefit. And if something of value was found, I’d make sure the news reached them…I mean
him
…the professor. You'd go down in history as the hero who saved our town."

Complete silence. Chase's scowl was back. Distrust narrowed his penetrating eyes.

She swallowed hard and measured her words, battling the overwhelming urge to look away. "I’m only trying to be professional here. With Mrs. Van Dozer’s cooperation and the additional information I have, everyone will lend their support. You'll have the money you need within hours."

Chase shook his head. "There’s
still
something you’re not telling me, but no matter. I don't have time right now. I’ve got an attorney and a federal judge waiting with my petition to salvage. When you decide to fill me in, give me a call. Naomi knows my number." Chase picked up the box and headed for the exit. Without a backward glance, he pushed his way clear and disappeared from view.

Shit!
Rachel stared after him. She never considered the possibility of being rejected. Of being humiliated in front of the town gossip. She looked down at the chair in her grip, longing to pitch it across the room. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to remain calm.

What do I do now?
She ran through her short list, settling on Dr. Ying. No one had been more insistent about her involvement, and at that hour, he'd no doubt be in his office. Although unaware of her dire predicament, he'd be ecstatic about her change of heart.

Rachel rifled through her purse and pulled out a five-dollar bill. She left it on the bar and made her way toward the same door Chase had vanished through.

"What about your change?" Naomi called after her.

"Keep it."

Rachel maintained a steady pace as she crossed the parking lot. She climbed into her car and drove the back roads at a break-neck speed, avoiding patrol cars along the way. After arriving at the museum, she ran up the stairs to the main doors, but a padlock and thick chain barred her entry. At her wit's end, Rachel considered soliciting help from the approaching guard – a foolish notion, according to Pollero. One that would expedite her brother's death.

"Miss Lyons? I thought that was you." Roger Dailey’s long strides shortened the distance between them. "Did you just come through the north entrance? I must’ve forgot to secure that gate."

She assessed the near-empty parking lot. Only a service vehicle and the professor's ratty Volvo remained. Did she overlook a national holiday? A reason for everyone to stay home?

"What’s going on?” she asked Dailey. “Why is the museum closed in the middle of the day?"

“
Oh, I guess you haven’t heard then.” He hooked his thumbs on his black belt. “Doc’s twin brother was killed trying to free his dogs from an electrified fence. Freaky accident, if you ask me. Seems his 80-year-old neighbor failed to install the regulator and instead of sending a pulsating current like it should have, the wire hit him non-stop with 110 volts.”

“
That’s terrible.”

“
Yeah. Doc took it real hard too. After the police told him what happened and how that old guy was arrested for manslaughter, he keeled over on the spot.”

Rachel covered her mouth.
Oh my, God. Is he dead?

“
He’s all right, ma’am. Had a minor heart attack is all.”

Her hand fell away. “Where is he?”

“
The paramedics took him to St. Vincent’s Hospital.” He glanced past her to the posted “closed” sign. “With school kids running up and down the hallways and Miss Briggs all keyed up, the fire chief thought it best to shut down early and send everyone home. I’ll tell ya though,” he said, shaking his head, “between the Motens emptying bank accounts, my wife’s hardware store laying off, and the body they found in the dump this morning, this town’s going straight to hell.”