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A Touch of Death Ch. 01

By: Wine_Maker



This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Candice Kane had her trials: her name, her ex, and his new skank of a wife. That, she could handle. Then a dead body forced her to confront the family curse she'd hidden from everyone; the visions that plagued her if she touched something associated with strong emotion. 

The police didn't believe it was murder. Only she knew the truth. Then the town's bad boy showed up, added attraction to the danger she was facing. Could she find a killer and hide her secret?

*

Chapter One 

The rising sun gently caressed the mountains west of Lake Tahoe with bright fingers. It revealed their stony grandeur in a blaze of glory that hardly relieved the gloom on the beach as I ran. The temperature was just starting to nudge up from the upper thirties. That was Lake Tahoe summers for you. You got enjoyable warm days and bitingly cold nights.

I was so busy enjoying the view that I almost missed the man floating face up in the shallows. I skidded to a halt in surprise, my braided red hair swinging wildly at the sudden change in momentum.

My breath fogged the air around me as I stared in shock, but his breath didn't. The water was cold enough to kill and he was just floating in it.

I looked around franticly for help. The tall pine trees to my right shielded the still sleeping town of Angel's Point from my sight. It was almost as if I was alone in the wilderness. I had my doubts about a little slip of a woman like myself being able to pull a full-grown man out of the water, but given when and where I was, I didn't have much of a choice.

The water felt ice cold as I ran to the man's side. My running sweats were instantly soaked. In the growing light, I could see his wide eyes staring off into infinity. I could also see that he wasn't breathing. 

I grabbed his black windbreaker at the neck and pulled him toward the shore with all my might. He moved a few inches, his body scraping along the shallow bottom. I grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled again.

That brought me into water only a few inches deep. One more heave and I'd have his head and shoulders on the beach. I renewed my grip on his collar and pulled. Something coldly metallic kissed my left hand and I fell heavily on my butt at the rim of the beach. I had a moment to blink at the small medallion on a chain around his neck before I was plunged into darkness.

It took a moment to recognize what I was seeing. It was a vision and I had no choice but to ride it out to the end. There was no breaking the hold of the curse.

I was standing on a dock looking out over Lake Tahoe at night. Well, technically the man was standing there but the only thoughts in my head were mine. I might have to ride his emotions, but his thoughts were absent. Thank God.

An overhead light shed an eerie glow, but didn't fully dispel the disquieting darkness around me. There was a cabin cruiser moored to my right. I could barely make out part of the boat's name emblazoned on the white hull - "something Valkyrie."

The view over the lake was a familiar one for me. I saw almost this exact view from my bedroom window at the Lodge. But this wasn't the Lodge's dock. That left only the dock at Angel's Point Inn on the other end of the mile-long stretch of beach from the Lodge.

I wanted to look around - no, I _wanted_ to turn around and run. Alas, neither of those things was going to happen. At this point, the man was providing all my sensory input. I could only see what the man had seen, and I could only sense what he felt at that moment. The overwhelming emotion that I tasted was his anger. If I was lucky, I might get a clue as to why he had been so angry.

I couldn't just keep thinking of him as "the man." That never felt right when I had a vision. John Doe was better. True, too. 

Behind me, I heard a creak of wood. It might be the sound a boat rubbing against the dock. I knew it wasn't, but I could always hope.

I strained to hear anything more, but only normal sounds from the lake greeted me. That didn't fool me. I knew someone had quietly walked up behind me and was standing there in silence.

John didn't bother turning around. His voice was well articulated and colored by irritation. "I told you I'm not going to stop, so you might as well..."

The sudden kick behind John's left knee was a surprise to both of us. He fell heavily and his wrist flared with pain as he landed heavily on it. Before he could struggle, strong fingers grabbed his hair and slammed his head into something hard.

Pain exploded like a supernova across my consciousness. I knew it wasn't mine, but that didn't lessen the impact one bit. Everything began swirling darkly around me.

John's neck began to burn with pain, but his body went strangely numb. No, not numb... absent. He couldn't seem to breathe. Panic exploded inside his mind. Mine, too.

John's attacker grabbed the collar of his jacket and dragged him to the edge of the pier. There was a brief sensation of falling and then cold, dark water blotted out John's vision. No matter how hard he tried, his arms and legs wouldn't move and he sank into the frigid water.

I felt cold sand against my cheek - _my_ cheek, not his. I opened my eyes. I'd fallen onto my side above John. The vision had ended.

Passing out wasn't a normal side effect of a vision - not that anything about this could be considered normal - but they weren't usually this powerful either. I took a deep breath and tried to sit up, but my body refused to cooperate.

The damned visions just wouldn't leave me alone. They made me different from everyone else and I hated that. I saw things and felt emotions that weren't mine. They were strong and sometimes more painful than I could stand.

I should've known better than to touch a stranger's things. I _knew_ I had to be careful. Strong emotion could imprint itself onto something a person was holding or touching. Metal like that worked all too damned well as a storage device, no matter how long ago the event.

Normally, I only saw other people's quarrels, joys, and everything in between. This time I'd seen murder and I couldn't seem to think.

Strong hands interrupted my fuzzy thoughts as they grabbed my shoulder and rolled me onto my back. I screamed. At least my voice worked.

A man's face loomed over me, dark, curly hair clinging close to his scalp. Opaque obsidian eyes burned with worry. 

"It's okay," he said. "I won't hurt you."

He wore a dark leather jacket, a plain black T-shirt, and jeans. His shoulders were wide, and his waist was trim. The tight shirt highlighted his well-defined abdominal muscles. I shouldn't have looked but they were right there sitting in plain sight.

It took a moment before I recognized him. His name was Tyrone Walker. We'd gone to high school together. My mother warned me about boys like him. I pressed her for more details eagerly. She told me firmly to steer clear of him. She told me he was dangerous and after watching him from afar, I decided she was right.

He'd been a dark and mysterious figure that rode a motorcycle and had girls dancing around him. They swarmed like moths drawn to a flame. The whispered gossip my friends had passed around about him had both excited and terrified me.

I'd longed to ask him out and see for myself, but I chickened out. However, he did feature prominently in a number of quiet, late-night fantasies. After graduation, he joined the Navy and disappeared from Angel's Point.

"Tyrone Walker?" I asked. "What are you doing here?" Well, that certainly made me sound like an idiot. The damned vision had really taken it out of me.

He blinked in surprise.

"Call me Ty," he said automatically. "Are you okay?"

I struggled to think of a safe, plausible explanation for collapsing and only came up with one that didn't make me sound like a kook. I'd have to go with the weak, girly excuse, as much as I hated people thinking of me like that. This sucked.

"I... I must've fainted." I struggled to a sitting position and stared at the body. "I've never..."

The explanation, as much as it torqued me, satisfied his worry for me. He slipped his jacket around my shoulders, making me suddenly aware I was shivering, and helped me stagger up the beach. I sat heavily in the dry sand and pulled the warm jacket tightly around me. Ty returned to John and started checking him.

"You're Candice Kane, right?" Ty asked. He sounded like he wasn't convinced he remembered the right name. I couldn't blame him. Candy Kane sounded like a gag. One becomes resigned to the jokes and teasing after a while. Mom swears Dad slipped it past her while she was still recovering after giving birth to me. Knowing my dad, it's probably true.

Frankly, I was astounded he remembered my name. "I like Candy better. You remember me?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up as those dark eyes glanced up at me. "How many five foot tall redheads could there be in Angel's Point? Believe me, no one that's seen you once would forget."

He felt John's neck and shook his head. The dawn had finally reached the beach and I took a good look at John. He was dressed in soaked jeans, a dark blue sweater, and a black windbreaker. One foot had a brown loafer but the other was bare. It was difficult to judge his age but he couldn't have been over forty.

"No joy. I'd say he's been in the water for at least several hours, if not all night," Ty said, looking up at me again. "His name is Steven Armstrong. Something hit him hard on the side of his skull. I'd say his neck is broken."

My mouth dropped open. He'd more or less described my vision and he knew the guy's name, too.

"How do you know all that?" I demanded when I could finally speak.

"Let's just say that he's not the first dead body I've seen pulled out of the water." He stood and brushed sand off his pants.

I didn't know how to respond to that. I forced myself to focus. "We need to call the Sheriff's Department."

"I called them on my cell when I saw what you were pulling out of the lake." The corner of his mouth quirked up again. "I expect they won't be too pleased with me hanging up on them."

"They do tend to get worked up about things like that," I agreed. I rubbed the bridge of my nose tiredly. "I didn't see you. Where were you hiding?"

He pointed at the trees between the beach and the highway. "I came out here before dawn and was sitting in the trees watching the sun hit the mountains. I saw you coming but I'm ashamed to say I missed the dead body in the dark water. That was incredibly careless of me. I shouldn't have left you with the burden of finding something like this."

It took a moment but I finally decided he was being serious. Men. Who could understand them? We couldn't change the past. Life only went forward.

"How did you know his name?" I asked, nodding toward Armstrong.

Ty considered the man expressionlessly. "I work for him. That should be past tense, I suppose."

"Doing what?"

Ty shrugged. "He hired me to help raise a ship from the south end of the lake. The S.S. Tahoe, a ship that used to make the circuit of the lake before there were roads. Her owners intentionally sunk her back in 1940. Armstrong wanted to get her afloat, restore her, and turn her into a floating museum."

I nodded. "The local paper said something about divers going down to it. I seem to remember that it was so deep they couldn't stay more than a few minutes and it was dangerous as hell. How can you recover something like that?"

"Armstrong bought a special deep diving suit from Canada. That's where I come in. I trained in something similar in the Navy. I'm supposed to go down and secure the lifts to the hull and they'll fill them with air and lift the ship."

If Ty thought having a normal conversation next to a dead man was odd, he didn't mention it. With the memory of his death still coloring my emotions, I gratefully seized upon this segue into normality.

We didn't have time to say anything else before I heard a siren wailing in the distance. Ty stood up, brushed the sand from his knees, and took a couple of steps toward the tree-shrouded highway. I slowly followed.

A sheriff's Deputy, Andy Milbank, came trotting out of the trees and took the scene in quickly. He ran to the body and made the same assessment that Ty and I had already made. Like ours, his didn't take more than a few seconds. He stood up and murmured into the microphone clipped to the shoulder of his uniform. It didn't matter that it was too soft for me to make out the words. It was probably in police-speak anyway.

I'd known Andy since we were kids. A year younger than me, he'd made the ritual passes at me during high school, and had taken my polite no with good grace. In a town of four thousand, I ran into him frequently, but never during something like this.

He had his cop face on, all professional and dispassionate. "This is a part of the job I could live without," he said. He nodded at me. "Candy." He raised an eyebrow at Ty. "You look familiar but I can't place the face."

"Tyrone Walker." Ty offered his hand.

A look of recognition dawned in Andy's eyes. "Angel Point's own James Dean. Welcome home, prodigal son." Andy shook Ty's hand. Then he gestured to John, or rather Steven Armstrong.

"Dispatch said a man called this in. Was that you?" Ty nodded. "Dispatch is plenty peeved with you for hanging up on them. What happened here?"

Ty went first. I was grateful to have to time to order my thoughts. Andy jotted our statements down in his notebook in just a few minutes.

I wished I could have given him something more solid than my public story. Even if I could've mentioned the vision, it didn't provide any details about the identity of the killer - other than the fact the victim seemed to know his killer. A fact I was sure the Sheriff's Department would quickly ferret out.

The only nudge I could give him was where I thought Armstrong went into the lake. The sluggish current along the beach did run from the north, as the body and my vision proved. Andy didn't look convinced, but he did pass my hunch on through the radio. There was probably little evidence anyway, so I hoped they would get someone to the dock before a boater messed up the crime scene.

By the time we finished going through our stories another Sheriff's Deputy and a couple of guys in a Coroner's van had pulled up behind Andy's car. The other Deputy brought me a blanket. I tried to return Ty's jacket but he waved my gesture away.

I was starting to wonder what I should do now when Andy returned from his patrol car.

"Senior Deputy Cooper's at the dock," He said. "He'd like you to join him." I knew Cooper well enough. I'd known him since he'd first come to Angel's Point twenty years ago. As the top man around here, he'd be in charge during the investigation. I wasn't sure if that was good news because I thought he was a little unimaginative.

I shrugged and nodded. I needed to see my part of this through. Ty joined me in the back of the patrol car. As I buckled in, I gave him a look. I'd never been in the back of a police car before, but I bet he'd had more than a few trips in one. That would just fit his reputation.

Ty smiled briefly at me. "This is nice. It's so new it doesn't smell like drunken tourists. That's real classy."

"Do you have much experience with cop cars and drunken tourists?" I asked, amused.

"Well, I have been a tourist, and I do have a lot of experience with the back seats of cars. Some were police cars." He waggled his eyebrows at me. "Some weren't." When I just grinned and shook my head, he asked, "In any case, does that count?"

I considered making a smart reply, but opted for ladylike silence instead. From his expression, I gathered I wasn't too successful but he let it pass for the half-mile drive to the Inn.

The Fletchers built the Angel's Point Inn some thirty years ago. When my ex, Calvin Bender, and his new wife Dora had taken over management from her parents three years ago, they carried the modern concept to what I saw as a distasteful extreme. Their remodeling was all glass, chrome, brass, and sharp angles. It looked so modern now that I couldn't stand it. It was very out of place here in rustic Angel's Point. Anyone who found this monstrosity pretty had all their taste in their mouth.

Yet, somehow, the redesign of the Inn had gotten all the requisite approvals and in the Lake Tahoe basin that was supposed to be difficult. I darkly suspected bribery every chance I could.

My mother said I was just letting my distaste for Calvin and Dora color my opinions. I disagreed, though I had plenty of reason to dislike Calvin and Dora.

Our marriage had been a short one. I caught Calvin on our couch with Dora less than a month after our honeymoon. Those who said our divorce was acrimonious were guilty of gross understatement. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict was less divisive. Frankly, if it weren't for the total support of my family and the fact I loved Kane Lodge, I probably would've left Angel's Point.

Marrying Calvin had been a mistake. Everyone warned me what a slug he was but I refused to listen. Dora, on the other hand, I knew would do anything to hurt me. She'd made school a living hell when we were growing up. This wasn't something she picked up from her parents, either. Her mom and dad were nice people, and kept the competition between our families from becoming personal. We'd even had dinner every couple of months until they retired to Hawaii.

Dora settled on a scorched earth policy for dealing with me in middle school and thereafter. I suppose seducing my brand new husband and wooing the two-timing bastard during the divorce was the ultimate in slap-in-the-face rivalry by the overly made up skank.

I took a deep breath and forced those thoughts from my mind. Calvin and Dora would have to take their turn. I tried to open the door when the car pulled to a stop, but the handle didn't work. Duh! It was a police car.

Andy let us out and escorted us around the outside of the Inn. That was good. With any luck, I'd be gone before Calvin or Dora cornered me. I wanted to see them less than the dead body.

Deputy Cooper stood about halfway down the dock looking out over the water with his hands in his pockets. He wasn't much to look at, with an unfortunate comb-over and a belly like a walrus. He waved for us to join him.

"Morning, Deputy Cooper," I said when we drew close.

He took off his uniform cap and used his handkerchief to wipe his forehead. Even in the cool temperatures, he was sweating. "Miss Kane, I'm sorry you had to find such a terrible thing."

"Unlike Mister Armstrong, I'll get over it," I said. I heard Ty chuckle at my dark humor.

"You were right," Cooper said. "I'm pretty sure he went into the water right here."

Crime scene tape sealed off several of the knee-high pilings and something dark stained the wood on one. I swallowed heavily.

"Is that blood?" I asked, my stomach feeling queasy.

"Looks to be," Cooper agreed with a nod. "We'll get some samples and send them off to the County seat. It looks like he hit pretty hard. I figure it stunned him and he fell into the water and drowned."

I nodded. The fact that Armstrong had a broken neck would come out sooner or later. The challenge was going to be figuring out how to steer Cooper toward the fact that it wasn't an accident.

"But that's not all," he continued. "Look at this." He pointed at a smeared streak on the planks near the stained piling. "Grease. It suggests how things might have happened."

"Um..." I said delicately. "Isn't it too soon to be saying that? You need to look at everything first, don't you? Like on _CSI: New York_?"


A Touch of Death Ch. 01



"New York?" Ty asked. "Why not Miami?"

I'd forgotten he was standing behind me. "Because I can't stand that red-haired guy. I think my ex-husband has more personality."

Cooper nodded. "We'll look at every bit of evidence. I found a shoe on the dock that sounds like a match for the one still on Mister Armstrong. There's some grease on its sole. Like I said, it's not certain but it is one possibility."

I didn't like the direction this seemed to be going. It might look like an accidental death to everyone but me but they _had_ to look into it as a murder.

I was considering the best way to move the conversation that way when a voice I detested called from behind me. My skin crawled. It was like knowing Darth Vader was standing right behind you.

"Deputy Cooper." Calvin's voice was smooth, like pond scum.

I forced my expression into a pleasant fa‡ade and turned to face him. I was less than overjoyed to see he had Dora with him. Whoever said 'no good deed goes unpunished' was dead on the money. I winced mentally at my poor choice of words.

Some might describe Calvin as a distinguished looking man in his mid-thirties, typically dressed in slacks and a yuppie sweater. His brown hair was prematurely graying at the temples and he looked like a perfect gentleman.

I usually described him in less exalted terms.

In a fashion blunder of the first order, Dora was dressed in an outfit matching her slime husband, my ex, Calvin. Sad to say, she looked better over-dressed in her usual designer trash. She overshadowed me by six inches and one look at her chest would convince anyone she was a proponent of body enhancements. I plastered a fake smile on my face for Cooper's benefit.

Calvin pointedly ignored me. No doubt determined to raise my blood pressure. Dora shot mental death rays in my direction.

"What brings you out so early?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid so," Cooper said with a nod to Dora. "Ma'am. Does the name Steven Armstrong mean anything to you?"

Calvin and Dora exchanged glances. "He's a guest," Calvin admitted. "Why?"

"Well," Cooper said slowly, "I'm afraid there's been an accident."

"We don't know that," I said.

"What are you blathering about?" Dora asked, her eyes narrowing at me before skewering Cooper. "What's going on here?"

"I'm afraid that Mister Armstrong is dead," Cooper said. "There's some indication he went in the water here."

Dora's eyes widened and she rounded on me. "And you're trying to spin this as something other than a terrible accident? You spiteful bitch!"

She started for me; her fingers extended like claws. Calvin yanked her up short like a dog that had reached the end of his chain when by grabbing her jacket. She snarled at him wordlessly but subsided.

Calvin stared at me with lordly indifference. "Candy never got over me leaving her, you know. It's made her bitter." He turned back to Cooper. "This is terrible news. I'm horrified. We'll cooperate in any way you need."

I stared at him, astounded beyond words. That was the most _outrageous_ thing I'd ever heard. The getting over business, anyway. Leave it to the self-centered jerk to turn someone's death into a chance to take a shot at me. 

It was par for the course, though. We made the Hatfield's and McCoy's seem like a girl fight after school. This, however, was going too far. 

Ty stepped between us before I got over my shocked outrage and throttled either one of them. "Everyone take a deep breath," he said calmly. "No one's saying there was foul play. Candy's just saying nobody should rush to judgment."

Calvin dismissed Ty with a look. "You don't know her like we do, Mister Walker. She'll do anything to get even with us. She's a small woman in every respect. Take my advice and steer clear of her. In any case, this is none of your business so stay out of it."

Ty smiled benignly but I could see a gleam in his eyes. If Calvin had gone to school with Ty, he'd have known he'd just made a serious mistake. Too bad for him.

Calvin spared me another glance. "Why are you here again, Candy? Don't you have something else to do? Someone else to bother?"

Deputy Cooper shook his head tiredly. "Don't get your shorts in a twist. I brought her here as part of my investigation. She stays till I'm done with her."

I'd said my piece so it was time to let it go. "I've told you what I know. If you have any other questions give me a call."

Cooper nodded and slipped his hat back on. "Thanks for your help, Miss Kane."

I nodded as graciously as I could and let Ty steer me around my ex and his skank while considered and rejected making another lunge for her. That superior smirk on his face just made me want to scream.

We were almost past when Ty's right foot abruptly slipped sideways and he staggered heavily to the left. I grabbed him but all that did was get me dragged along with him as he started to go down.

He would have fallen, except his shoulder rammed into Dora's and sent her crashing into Calvin. Calvin shot off the side of the dock and into the water with a tremendous splash before he even knew what was happening. Dora teetered on the brink for a moment, her arms wind milling frantically for balance, before she followed her husband into the cold water with a scream.

Ty stood there with an artful expression of consternation on his face. "Oh, dear." He shrugged to the deputy. "I must've slipped on something." He looked over at the drenched couple. "Sorry about that. You really need to clean up this dock. So many slipping incidents might cause a lawsuit."

I stood there in awe of him as Cooper began trying to fish them out while they screamed at us. "Let's go to the Lodge and get some breakfast. I'd like to catch up."

"Good call. You need a lift home and you'll love my car."

The morning was looking up after all.



A Touch of Death Ch. 02



I laughed when I finally saw Ty's car. It was hard to miss. It stood out like a stripper leading a church service.

It was a sleek black muscle car with a supercharger rising like a chrome fist from the center of the hood. I didn't know who manufactured the original chassis, but it was obvious extensive work had gone into it since then. It looked fast, powerful, and utterly impractical for a sub-alpine area like the Tahoe basin. It virtually sat up and begged to scream down some long, straight desert highway.

I put my hands on my hips and looked up at Ty. "I can't believe you bought Mad Max's car." As far as I could tell it was a perfect reproduction of the car Mel Gibson had driven in the movie Mad Max.

He ran his hand across the hood and grinned. "I didn't buy her; I built her. You like?"

"You know this is a pretty impractical car for around here, right? You'll rip the bottom off if you go off-road, or drive into the lake if you floor it. The gas mileage probably sucks, too." Even as I ticked off the reasons it was impractical, I couldn't help but run my hands along its beautiful lines. I laughed guiltily when I caught myself wondering how fast it could go.

He smiled smugly at me, patiently waiting for a positive reaction from me.

"Okay!" I relented. "It's impractical, but it's hot."

Only then did he hold the passenger door open for me. The seat was made of dark leather and felt buttery soft. I wished my couch felt this nice.

He tossed his jacket into the back seat and climbed in beside me. As he buckled in, I stared at his arms and chest with something approaching awe. Shave his head and he'd look like Vin Diesel, only hunkier. The tight tee shirt showed his wide chest and flat abdomen off nicely.

Ty cleared his throat.

I yanked my eyes up to his face guiltily and caught him grinning at me. I looked away and fumbled with the seatbelt to cover the sudden flush I felt creeping up my neck. The pregnant silence grew as I looked at the seatbelt in confusion. There were a lot more than two belts to clip together.

"Let me help you with that," he said in an amused tone. "I put in five-point restraints and a steel roll bar, just in case." He gathered up the straps in his large hands and slid them together just below my bellybutton. His hands were rough and had a couple of old scars. They looked strong. They also felt warmer than they had any right to be.

That sparked a rush of heat in my gut that made me blush an even deeper red. His hands didn't linger, but his satisfied smile told me my poker face needed some work.

The car started with a grumbling roar. Even idling it sounded as powerful as a locomotive. He let it warm up and turned on the heater as soon as the engine was hot enough.

"Ready?" he asked as he dropped it into gear. He stomped the gas and pulled out so fast the tires squealed.

* * * * *

Kane Lodge was a sprawling stone and rough timber building that dominated the tip of Angel's Point Peninsula. Its two stories height might not seem like much until you took into account how much it sprawled. My grandfather and great-grandfather built Kane Lodge eighty years ago, and it was still going strong with the fourth generation now in control.

I left Ty in the lobby and raced back to my suite and showered in record time. I slid into a nice pair of slacks and a loose white blouse before brushing my hair out and tying into a ponytail. I allowed myself a slinky light blue bra. He'd never see it but I'd know it was there.

My orange cat, Screamer, was standing on the stand beside the door waiting for me as I started out. She wanted attention and she wanted it now. My purse, however, was not on the stand. I must've left it at mom's last night.

I picked Screamer up and held her in my arms like a baby, scratching her chin. She tolerated it for a few seconds before starting to squirm and voice her protest. I didn't try to stop her when she did what she'd wanted to do in the first place and climbed onto my shoulder. She stood there for half-a-minute like a furry parrot with green eyes before hopping down and sauntering to the kitchen, her tail curved into a question mark.

"Later, Fur Baby," I consoled her. "I'll feed you this evening." Every cat acted like they were one meal away from starving to death.

I grabbed the master key from the coat hook beside my front door and walked further down the private hallway to Mom's door. All the family had rooms in a little dogleg at the back of the building. My mother's was at the end of the hall here on the second floor. Her room was between mine and my absent brother's. Frank decided he wanted to be a movie special effects man after seeing a TV special on it when he was seven. Determined was hardly adequate to describe how devoted he was to learning everything he could about his obsession. Mom and Dad supported him without restrictions. At least until the incident. Then Mom forbade the use of accelerants inside the Lodge.

I figured Mom was probably still asleep so I opened the door quietly and let myself in without a knock. I'd just grab my purse and scoot back out.

I made it into the middle of her living room before I heard a soft noise that sounded like it was coming from her bedroom. It was so soft I couldn't identify it. I suppose she might've left the TV on after she went to bed. I weighed my odds and decided to keep going.

A small lamp cast a dim glow from beside the dark leather couch. It put out just enough light for me to avoid tripping over the walnut coffee table. I spotted my purse sitting on the couch. Mission accomplished!

I'd just grabbed it when I heard another sound from Mom's room. It was still soft, but this time I was able to make it out. It sounded like a groan.

My heart turned to ice. Had she fallen and hurt herself? Three quick steps brought me to her bedroom door. I grabbed the knob and was in the process of rushing into her room when she groaned again and I realized that wasn't the sound of pain. I froze, my eyes huge.

The murmur of what sounded like a male voice and the gentle creak of her bed echoed softly through the door. She had someone in there with her. Holy crap!

I slapped my hand across my mouth and repressed the loud "Eeeeeeewwwwww" that struggled to escape. I did not want to even think about my mother having sex!

I backed away from the door with legs that felt like jelly. I needed to get out of here quickly before I found out intimate details of her love life I'd rather not know.

Retreating quickly in a dark room that wasn't mine turned out to be mistake. I backed into the recliner and flopped over the arm with a barely repressed squeak. The chair reclined and the footrest popped out with a clank.

I froze. Maybe they were too busy to hear me. Please, God, don't let them come out! At least don't let them come out naked. My heart thundered in my ears.

"Did you hear something?" I faintly heard my mother ask. The reply - definitely male - was too indistinct to identify. They were coming out!

I pulled the seat back into its upright position. The sound of the metal springs in the chair sounded as loud as a brass band marching back and forth in Mom's living room to my panicked ears. I half sprinted and half tiptoed for the front door.

Mom's bed creaked loudly as someone climbed out of it. Heavy steps told me someone was heading toward her door.

I snatched Mom's front door open and whirled through it, stopping the door from slamming at the last second. I eased it closed with a soft click just as I heard her bedroom door open.

I hurled myself down the short access hallway that served the family quarters like a frightened gazelle. I didn't stop until I went through the locked door separating the family wing from the rest of the lodge. Only then did I allow myself to brace my heaving shoulders against the wall and catch my breath.

My mom had a man back in her life. The thought made my head spin. She hadn't dated once since dad died four years ago. I mentally amended that thought: she hadn't that I'd ever known about. And now she was sleeping with someone. At least it sure looked like someone spent the night with her. I wondered how long I had been oblivious.

This was going to take some getting used to, even though I'd been pushing her to start dating. Hell, I'd almost bullied her at times over the last year to find a gentleman friend even if she didn't want a long-term relationship. She'd become a recluse and I'd become worried she wasn't ever going to come out of her shell.

Part of me wondered if she'd been playing a game all this time, but I dismissed that as just not being in my mother's character. I laughed a bit at my foolishness. I'd pushed her to find someone, and now I was suspicious the moment she had. I was being silly. This was great news. Still, I wondered and worried about the new man in her life.

I took a deep breath and settled my shoulders. I needed to deal with one thing at a time. There would be time enough to dig the filtered details out of mom later. For now, I had more pressing problems.

Ty had settled in one of the comfortable leather chairs scattered across the hardwood floor of the lobby by the time I came down the staircase. It was a huge, wide-open space of open-framed timber and deep carpet. An array of stuffed animals lined the walls, giving the place a rustic appeal.

He was right in front of an absolutely monstrous fireplace sunk low in one of the deep leather seats. Dad used to tell me that they roasted boar in it when he was a boy and I could believe it.

Ty rose smoothly to his feet. "You look great."

I shook my head at his smooth comment and smiled. "Thank you. Come on, let's get something to eat."

He smiled and followed me into the restaurant. Grandfather had built it with the same theme as the rest of the Lodge: open timber rafters, polished wood floors, and quarried stone walls. Pictures of the lodge and my ancestors hung everywhere inside it, providing a glimpse of Angel's Point as it had been years ago.

The family booth at the back of the restaurant had a picture of my parents, Frank, and me. We'd been fishing on the lakeshore and were showing off our catches. My Dad was grinning like there was no tomorrow and holding my Mom tightly. Every time I saw this picture, I missed him again.

Ty looked at me and then at me in the picture after we took our seats. I'd been coltish back then. I must've been thirteen or fourteen, though I looked younger. I remember Dad telling me I was growing like a weed and eating like a swarm of locusts. The irony of me barely reaching five feet and balancing the scales at a hundred pounds was still darkly funny.

I flagged down the lead waitress and we ordered breakfast and coffee. I kept my order to an English muffin and jelly. Ty ordered the biggest platter on the menu. When she had it all, I added one more thing.

"Do me a favor, Karen," I said. "Keep the seating to the front for as long as you can. We'd like a little privacy."

Karen's eyes widened for just a moment, and then she smiled knowingly and nodded before sauntering back to get our food started.

I shook my head ruefully. I knew damned well what that look and that smile of Karen's meant. In less than ten minutes, everyone who worked at the Lodge would know I was here with Ty. It was bad enough that everyone who spread Karen's gossip would assume I was dating the good looking guy. Worse, based on Karen's reaction, they would be surprised. It wasn't like I was living in a nunnery or something. I'd just been busy for the last... Year? Had it really been a year? God, I'd been acting almost as badly as mom!

I shook my head and watched Ty watching me. He was intent, with a hint of amusement in his dark eyes.

"You've changed since high school," Ty said. "You were shy back then. I almost asked you out."

My heart seemed to stop for a moment before it started thumping twice as fast as before. I settled my face in a disbelieving frown. "Me? Whatever in the world for? There were plenty of prettier girls, more popular girls."

"Maybe more popular, but not prettier. Don't sell yourself short."

I laughed at his pun, intentional or not. "But I am short. Thank you, though. I wish I'd known that back then. Speaking of high school, where did you disappear to and what've you been up to?"

His dark eyes twinkled. "I'd rather talk about you. That's a much more interesting subject. Tell me about Candy."

I was flattered at his attention and I felt my smile widen. "Flatterer. Well, there's not a lot to tell. I went to UCLA and got a degree in hotel management to help Mom and Dad at the Lodge. Since Dad passed on I've been managing directly."

"I'm sorry to hear about your dad. The few times I saw him around town he seemed like a nice guy. Is your mom holding up okay?"

I shrugged. "She's doing all right, I suppose. It's been four years since his heart attack and I've seen signs she's seeing people again. I've got my fingers crossed."

"I'm glad to hear that. As I recall, she shouldn't have any problem finding interested men."

My eyebrow quirked. "And how do you know that?"

He grinned. "Back when we were in high school, your mom made quite an impression when she came by the school to pick you up. I recall quite a few guys who would've jumped if she snapped her fingers."

I laughed loud enough to get looks from the other diners. "As I recall," I said when I finally stopped laughing, "the bar is kinda low for high school boys. If the woman in question has most of the required body parts and doesn't have a beard bigger than Ulysses S. Grant she's good enough."

"Well, I wouldn't say we were that bad," Ty disagreed, "but it didn't matter in your mom's case. You two definitely share the 'hot chick' gene. Trust me on that one."

My face heated again. "I bow to your wisdom, sir. Back to the subject, the only other thing of note since you left was my marriage to jerk-off."

Ty snorted. "He seems like a real winner. Were you drunk?"

"I wish I could blame it on booze but I was just stupid. My friends tried to warn me about him and I didn't listen. The ink wasn't even dry on the marriage certificate when I caught him and Dora on the couch."

My jaw ached from the pressure I was putting into grinding my teeth so I forced myself to unclench. I took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm much better off without him dragging me down. They deserve one another. Good riddance."

He nodded slowly. "I think you're on the right track but it still stings, doesn't it? I could see the fire in your eyes this morning. It must be an iron-clad bitch to have them as your competition."

I shrugged. "Not really, as long as I don't have to see or speak to them."

"Have you ever considered getting even?"

"Revenge?" I shook my head. "No. That kind of stuff comes back to haunt you. I'm not ready for that kind of bad karma. I'll just let the world take care of it for me."

He slowly smiled, a wicked gleam in his eye. "No doubt the world will pick the right person for the job. You're absolutely right to take the high road. Leave the low road for those best suited for it."

I frowned. What was he getting at?

"But enough about you," he said with an unrepentant grin. "Let's talk about me."

"Okay, big guy," I agreed. "Where did you disappear to? The Navy, right?"

He nodded. "Yup. I joined up as a diver. Later on I was recruited for the SEAL teams. I did that for the last eight years."

I blinked. "A seal. Like in balancing a ball on your nose?" I clapped my hands together and made seal noises.

Ty snorted his coffee and started laughing. "That's not quite what I meant, but you get points for delivery. I'm talking about Navy Special Forces. Sea, Air, and Land."

"I've heard of Special Forces before," I admitted. "They talk about them on the news sometimes. Usually it's about the war in Afghanistan and Iraq."

He used his napkin to clean up the spewed coffee and nodded. "I went to both before I left the service. It wasn't fun."

"What?" I asked lightly. "No war stories? I thought veterans liked to impress the girls with their exploits and scars."

"There's nothing romantic about war," he said a touch grimly. "Particularly these more recent conflicts. You never know when some fanatic is going to pop up and fire an RPG at you. Or when the car next to you is going to blow up." He made an expansive gesture with his hands, like an explosion. "Then you have the more than occasional IED - Improvised Explosive Devices - planted by the road to kill the unwary. When you go in after the jerks they just hide behind other people, bystanders get hurt or killed, and we catch the blame. The better we do militarily, the worse our image with the locals."

I blinked at his vehemence and I gently put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to touch a nerve. Forget I mentioned it."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's okay," he said. "I don't talk about it that often. When I do, my frustration leaks out. I'm sorry about that."

"Why don't we talk about something else," I said, changing the subject. "Like Steven Armstrong."

He nodded. "Damn poor luck on his part. More people die in the bathtub than falling off a dock."

"If he fell all by himself."

Ty's coffee cup paused on the way to his mouth. "You think he had help?"

"I don't know. It just seems too coincidental. Stepping right on one spot of grease, falling just so." I shrugged. "It's possible but I can't help wondering if he made someone mad at him. If so, I'm worried the Sheriff's Department will go with the simplest explanation."

He shook his head. "If he was murdered, then they will figure it out. You're not thinking about playing Miss Marple, are you?"

I shrugged. "All I have are some questions. How dangerous can that be?"

He laughed. "Ask Armstrong. Asking questions might be nothing, if this was an accident. If it wasn't, you might just get the interest of someone that wouldn't be shy about venting his displeasure. Let it go, Candy. Let them do their job."

I wanted to argue, but our food arrived before I could get started. Karen balanced a big tray on one hand with grace that always amazed me. In her other hand was a folding stand that she adroitly popped open and set the tray neatly onto it. "One English muffin for the lady, and one of everything else for the gentleman."

His breakfast was big enough to keep me in food for a week. Karen laid it all out and refilled our coffee before sashaying away to handle the growing morning crowd.

When my muffin was gone, I stole a couple of pieces of bacon from his plate and ate them slowly with guilty delight.

"How long have you known Armstrong?" I asked.

"I met him a few months back when he hired me for hard-suit diving and salvage work. We've gotten together a few times since then for planning. I wouldn't say I really know him, though."

I nodded. "You're here in Angel's Point so the work must be about to start. When did you get here?"

"I checked into Fletcher Inn yesterday afternoon. He met with me before the dinner to finalize the operational plans. We also went over some technical details he wanted to have handy at the Lake Tahoe Mariner's Association dinner last night."

"I was at the one last year," I admitted. "They had it right here. As I recall, it was pretty stuffy."

"Not last night's dinner. It was a lot more exciting than I expected."

"Really?" I leaned forward eagerly. "What happened?"

"Word of his salvage plans leaked. Some of his associates were more than a little torqued about it. There was some resentment about raising an historic relic like the SS Tahoe. There was some grumbling and a few people were downright hostile." He shrugged. "I wouldn't call it a brawl, but harsh words and a couple of threats were exchanged."




A Touch of Death Ch. 02



A big fight at the Inn? That wouldn't reflect well on Calvin and Dora when it got around. I made a mental note to start some juicy rumors. "How harsh?"

He leaned back. "Well, let's see. One of the guests called him 'an arrogant ass' and called his plan a publicity stunt that the LTMA didn't need their president involved with. You know Armstrong was the Association president this year, right?"

I shook my head and let him continue.

"Well, he was. That one guy tried to get the group to vote against the project. Armstrong just sneered him down. Said he didn't need his 'precious permission.' I gather that there was more than a little bad blood between the two."

It would've been fun to be at that meeting. "What was the mood of the crowd? Were they with Armstrong or against him?"

Ty shrugged. "I gathered about two-thirds either supported him or didn't care. The other third grumbled, but only the one guy was hell bent to stop the deal, at least at first."

"Do you know his name?"

One corner of his mouth quirked upward. "I couldn't have missed hearing it. His last name is Stanton. I doubt that his full name is 'that ass Stanton', though."

I laughed.

"That wasn't the last of it, either. Another man showed after we started eating. On a personal note, the food here is much better. The second guy was even more entertaining than Stanton. In a wild-eyed fanatical way. He kicked his way through the main door to the dining room and denounced Armstrong before your ex-husband and his wife dragged him off."

"Wow. It sounds like I missed one hell of a party."

"I think the man was with one of the Lake Tahoe preservation societies. I didn't catch the name, but that was the thrust of what he said. He said they'd never allow Armstrong to disturb the ship. He sounded righteously pissed."

I finished my coffee while I considered that.

"Will losing Armstrong kill the recovery effort?"

Ty shook his head. "I don't think so. Armstrong had a partner who's just as gung-ho about this project as he was. Damien Manchester."

He finished his breakfast and sighed regretfully. "Speaking of Mister Manchester, I should track him down. We've got a lot to talk about."

I looked down at the table, astonished that all the food in front of Ty was gone. Reluctant for breakfast to be over, and not sure why I was feeling that way, I took his hand in mine and looked up into his face. "Thanks for being here this morning. It's been good seeing you again."

He stood up and gave me a two finger salute. "I think we might be seeing each other more often than you think. See you around." With that and a sexy swagger of his hips he walked out the door.

Damn all good looking men.



A Touch of Death Ch. 03



After Ty left, I retreated to my office behind the lobby desk. I needed to write down what I'd Seen before all the details blurred. I also needed to let recent events sink in. My life had just taken several turns from where I'd when I woke up.

My office was both a workplace as well as a retreat from the rest of the world. There was a big wooden desk of hand-carved local Jeffrey pine, my dad's work. It supported my computer, telephone, and calendar.

The room was centrally located, so there were no windows, but the pale white walls were covered with paintings and drawings of Lake Tahoe and Kane Lodge done by local artists over the last fifty years. There were a couple of comfortable chairs and a file cabinet to round out the fittings, all sitting on the stone tile floor. The only concession to cold feet was the small throw rug of hand knitted wool that I kept under my desk.

When I sat down it felt like the first normal moment I'd had since dawn. The last couple of hours had flown by and the events were unsettling to say the least.

I grabbed the much used and abused yellow legal pad by my phone and wrote down everything I could remember about the vision and everything I'd seen and been told. It filled two full pages with my neat handwriting.

When I finished, I locked it in my desk. The next thing I needed to do was start asking questions of my own. First up, I needed to know what the Sheriff's Department really thought. If they were going to be serious about this investigation then I needed to do what Ty told me to do; back off and let them do their job. If not, then I had some thinking to do. I knew just who to ask.

* * * * *

City Hall was made out of the same kind of rough stone as the Lodge but somehow managed to look squat and foreboding. My purple Taurus, the Grape, - barely fit into one of the cramped spaces the city provided and I made my way inside. I walked briskly past the judicial offices and up to the second floor, home to the mayor and city council.

The door I wanted was open and Zach Zoboroski was pounding furiously on the keys of a beat up, computer keyboard, his back hunched and his expression focused. Zach was somewhere north of fifty and built like a midget wrestler writ large; short, squat, and heavily muscled. He looked out of place in his well tailored dark gray suit. He'd worked for the city council since before I graduated from high school, and he would hear what wasn't being said publicly. He'd been a close friend of my father and I was happy he was mine, too.

I smiled and knocked on the door frame. "Hey, big man."

He turned his bald head and smiled at me. Then his expression went from professional to concerned, his bristly eyebrows drawing together. "Hey! I was going to call you later. I heard you... you know. Are you okay?" He jumped to his feet and moved a stack of papers off a chair for me to sit in.

I shrugged and gratefully sat down. "It knocked me down - literally! - but I'm back on my feet. I'll sort through it in a couple of days, I hope. Have you heard anything official about it?"

He closed his door and lowered his voice. "You know how it is, gossip spreads pretty fast around this place. Why?" He resumed his seat and clasped his hands on the desk, giving me his full attention.

"Are they leaning toward any probable cause?" I asked. "You know, accident or intentional?"

"You mean it might not be an accident?" His eyebrows shot up. "The guy I talked to seemed pretty confident the guy slipped."

I mentally cursed. I knew it! I tried to not let the dismay bleed onto my face. "Well, not really," I said. "I was just worried the Sheriff's Department has some blinders on. Maybe I'm being paranoid."

He chuckled. "You're not paranoid if they really are out to get you."

"That's reassuring," I said dryly. "If there's some wacko out there I'd like to know to keep my eyes open. I have my guests to think about, not to mention my mom."

"Put your mind to rest, then," he said in a confident tone. "My unnamed source heard it right from the horse's mouth. Deputy Cooper is pretty sure this is an accidental death. Barring anything unexpected turning up at the crime scene or during the autopsy, of course."

I wanted to be mad but they didn't know what I did. How could they? Cooper had only what his eyes and experts told him. I was the only witness. Or was I?

"What about the guests at the LTMA dinner?" I asked. "I heard there was quite a ruckus that night."

"I didn't ask but I'm sure they'll get questioned," he assured me. "That's standard, right? Gossip says Armstrong had more than a couple of stiff ones before he left the party, if you know what I mean."

"I'm probably worrying about nothing. You mentioned an autopsy? That'll probably settle everything. Do you know anyone at the Coroner's office?"

"I know a couple of people, including old Doc Mathews himself," he said. "You want I should give them a call and get the unofficial word, just to ease your mind?"

"Would you?" I asked. "That would make me feel so much better."

"Consider it done," he assured me. "I'll call you when I have anything so don't worry yourself over this. I'm sure we don't have a murderer in Angel's Point."

I sighed to myself. I knew he was wrong, and though I appreciated his attempt to reassure me, the memory of being hit and falling into the water was so personal I knew I'd have to do something myself. "I feel better already," I lied. "Thanks, I owe you one."

"No problem." I left him to his work and went in search of someone else who might be able to help me.

I considered my next move as I went back to my car. When Ty had mentioned the LTMA dinner, two names had interested me. I'd heard of one, Edward Stanton. He and his wife had stayed at the Lodge while their house in the hills above Angel's Point was being remodeled. His family was involved in shipping of some kind and he was said to be quite well off. Other than the fact he was in his fifties, and was on his third wife, I hadn't heard any interesting rumors about him.

His wife, on the other hand, was an easier target, in more ways than one. Alison Stanton was my age and local gossip had it that she flirted shamelessly with men other than her husband. Okay, the rumors were that she did more than flirt, but no one had anything substantial. It was, however, a good place to start digging. I wondered if Armstrong had been on the receiving end of any of that flirting.

The trick was going to be cornering them for questioning without making them suspicious. Ty had said Stanton was dead set against raising the S. S. Tahoe so maybe I could make them think that was where my true interest lay.

* * * * *

Stanton's house, more of a mansion really, was at the end of a winding uphill road on the wooded crest of a hill about a thousand feet above Angel's Point. It wasn't alone; there were four other expensive homes staggered along the circumference of the hilltop.

I parked in the wide cul-de-sac that fed all five estates and took a moment to admire the view of Angel's Point and Lake Tahoe. The sky was an inverted bowl of the deepest blue with only a single cloud in the sky. It was being driven across the lake at a rapid clip, though. There was a nice, stiff breeze coming from the south that would've set my hair to blowing if it hadn't been in a ponytail. It had warmed up nicely so I tossed my jacket into the backseat before I locked up.

Angel's Point was spread out below me like a toy city nestled against the variegated blue of Lake Tahoe. The Lodge Pole, Jeffrey, Sugar, and Ponderosa pines dominated and concealed much of the town, providing the rustic flavor that I loved. Here and there I could see cars, bicycles and people moving through the gaps in the foliage. The sharp scent of pine mingled with the fresh air and invigorated me. 

I focused past the highway along the shore to the lake itself. The relatively shallow areas off the coast were awash in motor boats and skiers. Numerous jet skis zipped around them like terriers playing between the feet of bigger dogs. As the water deepened to over a thousand feet the water darkened to a deep blue, and the number of boats dropped off to just a few that were mostly too far out to distinguish clearly. Except one.

The Tahoe Queen. She was moving across the water on a stately course to the south, her paddle wheel turning grandly. There were a couple of paddle wheel boats running tourists around the lake but I thought she was the grandest. I made a mental note to see about taking another trip on her while the summer was still on us.

When my eyes had drunk their fill, I turned and made my way up the drive toward the Stanton's front door. There wasn't a sidewalk per say. A mortared shale path meandered its way to a wide porch with the obligatory Doric columns and a beveled glass front door that sparkled in the bright sunlight.

A deep tolling bell rang out when I pressed the button. I stood there, eying the distorted view of the entryway through the thick glass of the door while the echoes died away. Quicker than I'd expected, I saw what looked like a woman striding toward the door. At least I hoped it was a woman, because a man would look like Santa Claus in that bright red set of clothes.

The front door opened and a blonde woman in an arterial red skirt suit stared down at me with a confused look on her artfully made up face. She was about average height and weight which meant she had half a foot and twenty five pounds on me. I put her at about my own age.

Her confused look cleared before I could say anything and she smiled. "Oh! It's that time, isn't it? Perfect! Come on in."

I blinked in confusion and watched her head back into the house, her red heels clacking on the pale green marble of the foyer. I shrugged and started after her. I'd find out what was going on faster this way.

The interior of the house was subdued and elegant with high ceilings and a light, subtle blue color to the walls. A wide set of stairs with a dark, highly polished banister swept up to the second floor. The large room just off the foyer was carpeted in a tasteful green and was deep enough to mow. The furniture of wood, leather, and glass looked both comfortable and stylish without being a statement. It actually looked like someone lived here instead of being some avant-garde show piece.

Alison, if it was Alison, went straight to a spindly-legged stand next to the stairs and pulled out her checkbook. She tapped her lips with a pen and considered something. "I think I'll go with a case of those peanut butter ones this year. Eddie will want a case of the thin mints, though."

While most fourteen year-old girls were taller than me, my well-developed figure usually clued people in that I was an adult. I got carded at bars but I'd never been mistaken for a Girl Scout before. It was definitely a new personal low. In spite of the annoyance I felt, I had to admit it was a bit amusing. At least it would be in a moment, I thought. I fought to keep the conflicting emotions off my face and allowed myself a dry smile. "I'm not selling cookies and I'm not with the Girl Scouts, Mrs. Stanton."

She blinked in confusion. "You're not?"

"No," I assured her. "I'm Candice Kane, manager of Kane Lodge. I was hoping to speak to your husband."

I doubt I could've dumbfounded her more if I'd claimed to be a Martian. I had to fight to keep from laughing out loud. 

She belatedly focused her attention on me and gave me a close look. She flushed and slid the checkbook and pen back into the drawer.

"Well, I've made an idiot out of myself this time, haven't I?" she said with a wry twist to her lips. "I can think of all kinds of inane things I could say to excuse myself but I think I'll just stick with 'I'm sorry.'" She gestured toward the living room. "Please come in and join me. Would you like some tea?"

My opinion of her took a sudden upturn and I gave her a more genuine smile. "Tea sounds wonderful. Thank you."

She led me to the living room and I sank down into a comfortable leather chair while she pressed an intercom button next to the door and ordered iced tea. That done, she sat in a seat that let us have a good view of each other and crossed her legs at the ankle. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

"Eddie's not here, I'm afraid," she said. "He's giving a statement to the Sheriff's Department about the awards dinner last night."

"That's actually what I'm here about. I wanted to get more details about what happened."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not to seem rude, but why?"

I shrugged. "I found Steven Armstrong on the beach this morning. I've discovered that finding a dead body gives one a burning thirst to know what happened."

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. "Oh, you poor thing! That must've been horrible!" A shadow of pain and other indefinable emotions raced across her face before she once again schooled her expression.

"It wasn't pleasant," I agreed.

A plump older woman in some kind of maid's outfit walked in, carrying a tray with tea, glasses, and side items. If my presence surprised her, it didn't show. She set the tray on the table between us and departed without a word.

Alison poured for both of us and I sweetened mine to taste. It was sharp and crisp on my tongue.

"I guess I can see why that might make you curious," She admitted. "Maybe I could answer your questions. I was there, you know."

That made sense. People took wives and girlfriends to formal dinners, after all.

"Did you know Armstrong very well?"

She shrugged and looked at the tea pitcher for a moment. "We moved in the same circles for the last few years. He and Eddie didn't always see eye-to-eye, and I... kept a little distance. They weren't close."

And I could believe what I wanted to about that. "Who were his friends?"

"He was always kind of standoffish so he didn't have a lot of close friends. The LTMA Vice President, Damien Manchester, and his wife Elsa are the only two that leap to mind."

"I hear he made some kind of announcement last night that didn't set to well with some folks. What was that all about?"

Alison scowled. "He's hired and outfitted an expedition to raise the S.S. Tahoe without telling hardly anyone about it. Eddie was furious. He thinks that ship is an historic treasure and should be left alone." She sipped her tea and regained her composure. "He wasn't alone, either. I think plenty of people thought Armstrong was being a jerk. He flat out called Eddie an ass and tried to humiliate him in front of everybody: called him an obstructionist and a Philistine. Eddie tried to get the Association to stop the project but they were too scared of Armstrong to stand up to him."

I set my tea glass on the tray and straightened, not having to feign interest at her last statement. "They were scared of him? Why?"

"Dear Steven had a reputation," she said coldly. "He was a bully."

"Oh, I heard he had a reputation," I said lightly, "but I thought it was with the ladies."

That garnered a more natural laugh from her. "Oh, he had that kind of reputation, too. And it was well deserved. He was very skilled at making lady friends and showing them a good time, whether they were married or not." She smiled. "Or so I've heard."

I kept my face bland. "I'm sure. Why is your husband so dead set against this project?"

"What does it matter?" she asked with a toss of her head. "Armstrong's dead and that's it for that. It's a shame he had to die to stop it but it's over now."

"What makes you so sure of that? If his death wasn't an accident then this will take on a life of its own."

She looked up sharply, her nostrils tightening. "Not an accident? What do you mean? Of course it was an accident. What else could it have been?"

"Let's see, the opposite of accidental would be intentional."

Her eyes widened incredulously. "Murder? Are you saying he was murdered?" Then she paled. "Oh, God! You found the body. Of course you'd know if someone shot him or something." She surged to her feet, starting to walk back and forth. "The deputy was so smooth when he called. I never suspected a thing."

She stopped pacing and put her hands on her hips. "And they're grilling Eddie right now. Oh, my God. They think he killed Steven!"

I could see her winding herself tighter and tighter. That might be good, up to a point, but I didn't want her to get too carried away. "I'm not saying Armstrong was murdered, but it didn't look like a clear cut accident to me. I don't know what the police think," I lied, "but I know what I'd think in their shoes."

"Look," she said, taking a deep breath, "Eddie didn't like this plan, but he wasn't nearly as pissed about it as that environmentalist whack job. That guy flat out threatened Steven. I heard him say that he'd do whatever it took to stop him. The Sheriff's Department needs to be talking to him, not Eddie."

"I'm sure they will," I said, trying a soothing tone. "Do you know his name?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and I could feel her concentration. "I don't know his name but he was shouting 'Save Tahoe Basin' so I bet that's who he's with. He looked like a drug addict."

"I'm sure the police will talk with him. Don't worry about it. I'm sorry if I upset you. That certainly wasn't my intention."

Alison took a few deep breaths and nodded, relaxing a little. She sat back down abruptly. "This is just so sudden. I don't know what to think." Her gaze sharpened on my face. "I think I need to lie down for a while. If you don't mind."

I nodded and stood up. "I'm sorry to have worried you like this. Just one more question. Was Armstrong alone at the dinner?"

She levered herself slowly to her feet. "That depends on how you define 'alone'. He didn't have a date but he's always been good about scaring up company."

"Did he slip off with someone last night?" I let her lead me to the front door.

She smiled tightly. "Let's just say I'm good at reading men and he was sharing glances with a woman. A woman I'd bet was more than a casual acquaintance."

I stepped outside. "Anyone I'd know?"

She considered the question and slowly nodded. "You didn't hear this from me. I don't want to cause her any problems but knowing her husband I can see part of the reason she'd be interested." She glanced behind her to make sure we were alone. "He was making goo-goo eyes at a woman that night and she was giving the vibe back in spades. Ask Dora Fletcher where he might have gone after the dinner," she said as she closed the door.

* * * * *

The drive back to town gave me time to think about what I'd learned. The information about Dora, whether true or not, didn't surprise me for obvious reasons. In fact, the irony of her possible marital infidelity to my ex was sweet. A lesser woman would've been on the phone taking advantage of the situation before her car was warmed up.

For whatever reason I wasn't in a rush to cash in on what I'd learned. Like the ancient Klingon proverb said, 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.' I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. It wasn't nice but it was fair.

A quick call on my cell phone netted me the address and phone number for an environmental group called 'Save Tahoe Basin'. If memory served, the address was in one of the older residential areas.

After a couple of wrong turns I found Graham Street and followed it into the hills at the base of the mountains towering over Angel's Point. The houses I drove past looked to have been made in the late sixties or early seventies. They were in good repair, for the most part, but age sat heavily on them. It was like looking at a herd of swayback horses that were long past their prime. At least there weren't many cars on blocks in the yards.

The offices of Save Tahoe Basin also turned out to have a mailbox outside that announced Wallace as the name of the resident. I pulled to the curb and looked the place over carefully.




A Touch of Death Ch. 03



Like its neighbors, the beige house had seen better days, but at least the paint on the walls looked recent. Even the bushes around the house were trimmed and the walk had been swept. A beat up, rust colored Pinto graced the driveway so maybe I'd get lucky and find Mister Wallace home.

The front door was open and led into what looked more like someone's living room than their office. The furniture was old and well-used, scratched, scrapped, and dented. The cheap panel walls were graced by bland knock-offs of real art. There was no one in sight but I heard a voice murmuring from somewhere deeper in the house.

I knocked on the frame. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

"I'm in back. Come on in," a high, reedy male voice shouted back.

The air in the house felt musty and stale. I could almost see the dust puffing off the carpet with every step I took. Yuck. The guy should take a look at the environment in his own house before he started lecturing people about the Tahoe basin.

I went through the living room and into a short hall leading to the kitchen and other rooms in the rear of the house. The murmuring became one half of a phone conversation by the man who'd called me back. I stopped inside the doorway and gave my host a good look.

If it were the sixties I'd have called him a hippie. Since it wasn't, I'll just say he was in desperate need of a shave and a haircut. The man I assumed was Wallace was seated at the kitchen table talking on an old rotary phone. He was tall, thin, and young. No more than his early twenties I'd guess. He was dressed in jeans with the knees torn out and a ragged black tee-shirt extolling the virtues of heavy metal music. He wasn't smoking, but the room reeked of pot. All he'd have to do was flash me the peace sign and the image would be perfect.

"I'm tellin' you, Dude," he told the person on the other end of the phone while he doodled on a Big Chief notepad, "I was standin' as close to him as I am to you." He winked at me, making me blink.

The response, though audible, was indistinct.

"Okay," he said, "as close to him as I would be to you if you were here. Hey, I have someone here. Let me call you back. Later."

The bell inside the phone jangled as he dropped the handset on its cradle. "Hey. Pull up a chair." He gestured to the metal-legged chair beside the table. The seat was torn and the stuffing poked out. Great.

I gingerly sat down. "Are you Mister Wallace? I'm looking for Save Tahoe Basin."

He grinned, showing me teeth stained with tar from smoking God knows what. "You've hit the jackpot, little lady. I'm Jake Wallace and this is the executive office of Save Tahoe Basin. What can I do for you?"

Little lady. I hated that phrase, so I was sure my smile was little brittle at this point.

"I'm Candice and I wanted to talk with you about something I heard. Word's going around that someone is going to salvage the S.S. Tahoe."

His smile died instantly and he scowled. "Man, that's a load of bullshit! That rich dude thinks he can just waltz in here and deflower Lake Tahoe like that!"

I almost asked him if Lake Tahoe was a virgin but decided it would only cloud the issue. "I don't know much," I admitted, "but it sounds... troubling. I hear you called him on it and wanted to get the scoop."

He banged his fist onto the tabletop hard enough to make the phone handset bounce off the phone and clatter on the scarred linoleum. "That stuck up cocks..." He trailed off and looked at me again. "Er, butthole is going to tear up the whole bottom of Lake Tahoe and destroy a historic piece of history! We've got to stop him!"

"An historic," I said automatically. With Lake Tahoe being twenty-two by twelve miles I didn't think anything but a nuclear weapon could cause that much damage. In any case, I doubted Ty would be party to anything destructive. He was being paid to lift the ship so it could be restored, right? "What happened when you talked to him last night?"

He frowned. "An historic? That doesn't sound right."

I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure. Sorry, please go on."

"Yeah, well, I went up to that Inn and denuded that bastard in front of all his cronies. That didn't sit too well so some hag had me tossed out. Dude, she sure had a broom up her you-know-what."

I mentally swapped denounced for denuded and nodded. "That fits her all the way to the ground. She's a real bitch," I commiserated with him. "She's probably frigid. What's next to stop the project?"

He shook his head vigorously in agreement. "Right on. So now we like call around and raise awareness and picket his house. Oh, and get up a petition to send to the Governator."

"Um... Governor Schwarzenegger is in California. This is Nevada."

He grinned at me. "Sure, but the ship is on the bottom on the California side. One way or the other, we'll stop the dude cold."

I mentally smacked my own forehead. He was right. I should've remembered that. "Really? Um, did you hear something happened to him last night?"

He nodded with a smile. "I happened to him. I waited for him to come out after the party and I really showed him who was boss. That project is as good as dead."

"Speaking of dead," I said delicately, "you do know he died last night, right?"

He stared at me for a moment, his expression uncomprehending. "Say what?"

"He washed up on the beach this morning, dead." I sat back and watched him turn as pale as a ghost.

He abruptly leapt to his feet, sending his chair tumbling to the floor. "Shit! No way!" He stared at my face like a blind man reading a Braille menu.

"It's true. I saw him myself. After the scenes you and Edward Stanton made last night, I'm surprised the Sheriff's Department hasn't already stopped by to chat."

He stared at me for one long moment, spun on his heel, and headed out the front door. "I just remembered somewhere I need to be. I need to leave right now."

I didn't see much point in arguing so I let him herd me out the front door.

He almost pushed me to the driveway and threw himself into his car. The car started with a roar and he backed out with a harsh squeak of tires before peeling rubber on his way out of the subdivision.



A Touch of Death Ch. 04



I don't know what reaction I'd been expecting from Wallace, but taking off like a bat out of hell sure wasn't it. Shock? Sure, that would have been a normal human reaction. Anger or pleasure? For an eco-fanatic, it would not have been surprising. But not him fleeing headlong. That just looked so... guilty.

I looked back at his front door. Should I try to look around his place? I might not have a better chance, but if he was the murderer and he came back I might be in real trouble.

Without giving myself time to think about it I walked back to the front door. If it was open, or easy to get in, I'd take a peek. If it was locked, I'd have to let it go since lock picking wasn't a skill I'd picked up. The doorknob turned easily in my hand and the door opened a crack. He'd been in such a hurry he hadn't locked up after himself. Well, I thought, it wasn't my fault, then. Right?

I took a quick tour of the parts of the house I hadn't seen yet. The rear of the house consisted of two bedrooms with a common bathroom. One of the bedrooms was a mess, with dirty clothes scattered everywhere and a few empty food containers on the dresser. The hotel manager in me quailed at the mess.

The bathroom was worse. I steered around his discarded underwear and peered into the bathtub. It was rusty and had coats of soap scum. At least I hoped it was soap. Yuck! Somehow I'd thought an environmentalist might be a bit cleaner.

The last bedroom had been converted into a makeshift office. There was a beat up army-style metal desk that looked like it might've been new during WWII. It held a beat computer that was probably ten years old. There was also a worn upright filing cabinet and a small bookcase stuffed with ratty paperbacks and a scattering of hardbacks. The thing that was most interesting, however, was the last item in the room.

There table against the far wall was covered in a miniature of the Tahoe basin. It was built like some people build little train yards, with little toothpick trees and foam hills. The areas containing towns and cities were marked but there were no buildings.

There were also a host of little numbered flags set all across the surface of Lake Tahoe. Well, most of them were on the lake. A few were set at other places on land. I wondered what they meant.

I pulled out my cell phone and snapped a couple of pictures of the model. They wouldn't be great but I'd be able to reference it again later when I had more time.

The desk was empty of anything interesting. All it had was broken pencils, empty soda cans, dead pens, and paper clips. The filing cabinet was also mostly empty but it did have one item of interest: a purple Crown Royal bag with something solid and heavy in it. It felt like a rock, but I doubted Wallace was the type to hide a rock in a Crown Royal bag.

The golden drawstrings were knotted so tightly I couldn't even peek inside. I eyed my short nails, decided I'd need something a little more pointed to tease the knot open, and headed for the kitchen. I found some steak knives in a block on the counter and used one to worrying the tip in between the strands of string.

I'd just gotten one loose when I heard the front door crash open. I froze in place for a moment, my eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight. He was back! I had to get out of here!

I slipped the knife back into the block and considered what to do with the bag. There was no way I was getting it back into the office, and I couldn't just leave it out. That left taking it with me, and I could hope he wouldn't notice it was missing.

I unlocked the back door and opened it slowly, praying that it didn't make a loud noise. Whoever it was hadn't come into the kitchen yet but that could change in an instant. I slipped out and eased the door closed behind me.

The back yard was overgrown, the grass almost reaching its natural state. There was a shed but I wouldn't be getting anywhere near it without a machete. I eased myself around the corner of the house and found a gate so rusted, it would undoubtedly scream like a little girl in a haunted house if I tried to open it. That left going over it, rusty, pointy tops or not. I sighed at the thought of even touching it; I couldn't remember when I'd last had a tetanus shot.

For most people it might be easy to just hop over a four foot chain link fence with a two step start. At my height I'd need a pole and a running start. I looped the strings on the bag around my wrist and started pulling myself up, using the toes of my shoes to find holds in the diamond-shaped mesh of wire.

I'd just gotten one leg over the top when the back door slammed open with a crash. That sent me over the fence right then and there. I made it over and landed on the ground with a muted thud and no scratches. The only problem was my blouse snagged on one of the wires and ripped wide open across my front. Hell, it almost ripped the blouse off me. Terrific.

The sound of the tearing cloth was more than loud enough to be heard in the back yard so I leapt to my feet and hauled ass to where I'd parked on the street, ignoring the fact that I was exposed to the world if anyone looked. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my keys as I pulled them from my pocket and unlocked the car door.

I threw myself in the driver's seat and started the car at the same time the scream of un-lubricated metal announced the opening of the side gate. I slammed the car into drive and lit out of the neighborhood even faster than Jake had half an hour ago. I could only hope he hadn't gotten a good look at my car.

Once I was out of the residential area, I set the bag in the passenger seat and grabbed my jacket from the backseat. After I slipped it on, I pulled my seat belt on. The last thing I wanted now was to be pulled over. The jacket was too warm but better than driving around town showing off the color of my bra.

My heart was finally starting to slow down when I realized there'd been no sign of Jake's car in his driveway or on the street.

* * * * *

I'd planned to slip unseen up to my room to change blouses as soon as I got back to the lodge but, of course, that was too much to ask for.

Parked next to the main entrance of the Lodge was Ty Walker's muscle car, and worse, he was perched on the trunk looking right at me as I pulled into the lot. Terrific.

I let a deep breath of frustration hiss out my nose and pulled into the slot beside him. Grabbing the liberated purple bag and my purse, I got out and locked my car.

Ty grinned lazily at me, his chin subtly sexy with dark stubble. "Hey. Am I invited to the party?" He nodded at the bag. "Crown Royal and me go way back."

I felt a smile tug the corners of my mouth up. A crystal clear image of Ty and I half naked on a rug in front of a fire popped into my mind, and my body reacted instantly to that image. I shook my head to clear it before I started to pant. "I haven't had that kind of party in a while." More like never, but I wasn't going to admit to being that much of a dweeb. "You're not waiting around for me, are you? I wasn't even planning on stopping by until a few minutes ago."

He hopped off his car and the suspension barely moved. He was dressed in the same tight jeans and black tee shirt he'd been wearing earlier and I once again found my gaze wandered down to take in his well-defined muscles.

If he minded being ogled it didn't show. If anything his grin was wider. "I thought I'd wander by and see if you've made plans for lunch."

Well, I'd planned on having a sandwich and looking in this mysterious bag, but that could wait. I'd have to be an idiot to turn him down. Ty in front of that rug came back to mind.

I smiled, intentionally showing off my dimples. "As a matter of fact I can pencil you in. What did you have in mind?"

"A picnic out on the lake. It just so happens I have a basket of various goodies."

I smiled. "You know how to sail? Sure, that sounds great. Let me go change into something more suitable to boating and I'll meet you back here in fifteen minutes."

The sound of a window above us opening captured my attention and I glanced up. My mom was leaning out from one of the windows in the second floor lounge and waving at me.

"Candy! Can you come up here for a minute?" Her eyes swung to Ty and her smile became sly. "I don't think I've met your friend. Ask him to come up, too."

I planted my hands on my hips and gave her 'the look' while I tapped one of my feet. I'd never been able to see anyone without her finding out faster than I'd like. The perils of living in a small town with people that liked to gossip. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" I asked tartly. "I'm sure he can hear you just fine."

My mom frowned and peered at me. "What are you wearing under your jacket?"

I looked down and realized I'd forgotten I was almost topless under my now gaping jacket and anyone who cared could see right down to my navel. With a partially muffled 'eeeep' I whipped my jacket closed and blushed furiously.

Ty's eyebrows had climbed to his brow but his smile looked pretty satisfied. "Yes, what are you wearing under that jacket, Candy?" he purred.

"Never you mind! I'll meet you and mother upstairs after I change." Without waiting for a response from either of them I ran inside and up to my room.

Only when I was safely in my room, with my back against the closed door, did I run my hands over my face. Jesus! Could I have embarrassed myself any worse? I'd practically flashed Ty!

I took another deep breath. Forget practically. With this little slip of a bra he'd gotten more than an eyeful of the girls. I'd just have to come up with an explanation. Or pretend it never happened. Yeah, that sounded much better.

The blouse went into the trash as Screamer stropped my legs, purring softly. I knelt and scratched her head.

"Screamie, I just flashed Ty in front of my mother. She'll think I'm a slut. Hell, he'll think I'm a slut."

Screamer didn't seem to think it was such a big deal, apparently, because she just continued to demand love. I gave it to her and then clothed myself in my best black two-piece swimsuit, black shorts, and a dark blue tee shirt. My armor restored, I left to face the music.

* * * * *

I found Ty and my mother sitting at a window seat in the upstairs lounge looking out the wide windows at Lake Tahoe. I could see the boats criss-crossing the lake, with skiers trailing rooster tails of water behind them. The beach was also just visible, crowded with people enjoying the sun. I wondered how many of the families taking advantage of the sun knew they were laying where a dead body had been just a few hours before. I shuddered and forced the grim thought out of my mind.

Mom had a sly smile ghosting around the edges of her lips and was sipping on a glass of iced tea while she skewered Ty with those all-knowing eyes. Ty was leaning back in his chair telling her something. His expression was polite and amused. If mom intimidated him it didn't show. I set my purse on the table and sat down.

"I see you two have gotten comfortable. It's probably too late, but Ty meet Linda, my Mom."

Ty smiled at me. "Your mom was just telling me how quiet it's been around here." His eyes didn't stray any lower than my face. Good boy; pretend it never happened.

Mom laughed. "That's almost right. I was telling him how quiet it's been in your life. Since the divorce."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Pots, kettles, so forth, and so on. Thanks Mom, but I think I can handle this." I narrowed my eyes. "Unless you have some more recent experience that might shed some light on the issue."

She looked at her watch and stood up. "Oh, dear. I hate to rush off but I have an appointment." I thought not.

She held out her hand and Ty took it. "Tyrone, it's so good to see you again. I expect you to join us here for dinner soon. Tomorrow?" Her tone was a mixture of pleasure and firmness.

"How could I possibly decline?" he asked rhetorically. "I'll be here. Seven PM? Formal?"

"Seven is fine," Mom said. "Come as you like. I intend to be casual." Her eyes swept over me. "You two have a good time... boating." Her eyes twinkled at the last. She must have revised her opinion of Ty since high school. With graceful strides she left the room without a backward glance.

The silence in her wake was deafening. Ty raised an eyebrow at me and shrugged.

"Is it just me," I asked dryly, "or is my entire family rushing off on unexplained appointments every time you show up?"

He smiled. "They do seem to be busy people. I think they like me."

"What's not to like?" I glanced away for a moment. "Look, about earlier-"

"Did something happen earlier?" he interrupted smoothly, his eyes twinkling. "I must've missed it. I'm sure it wasn't important."

I shook my head, amused. "I'm pretty sure you didn't miss it, but thank you for being a gentleman."

His teeth gleamed against the backdrop of his darkly tanned face. "Oh, let's not get carried away. I certainly don't want to get a reputation as a gentleman."

I laughed. "You seem like one to me, so you'll just have to live with it. Then again, maybe I'm just out of touch. What are you, then?"

His smile grew wider. "I'm not into labels. When you figure out what I am I'm sure you'll let me know." He finished his tea and stood up. "Ready?"

I stood. "Ready."

* * * * *

Blue Sky Marina looked like it could've been transplanted from somewhere on the California coast. Rows of piers served hundreds of boats, large and small, powered and sail. They also did a booming business in jet skis. White was the predominant color but the sails spanned the spectrum.

I climbed out of Ty's car and took a deep breath. The air tasted of the lake, the surrounding forest, and diesel fuel. That was part of the increase in population around the lake I could've done without. People bustled down the piers and boats moved steadily in and out of the marina.

Ty gestured at the marina restaurant. "I need to pick up the keys to the boat and the picnic basket. Come on in and you can pick the wine."

I nodded and followed him in. The interior of the restaurant was dim, more like a bar than an eatery. The floor was made of polished planks and the decor leaned heavily toward the nautical. The walls were festooned with articles from various ships: pictures, life rings, etc.

It only took a moment before someone in one of the booths waved to us. Ty returned the gesture and led me over. The light in the booth was better thanks to a small lamp mounted to the wall.

Sitting there smiling at us was a man who looked to be staring down the wrong end of forty with a nose so flat it looked like someone had taken a skillet to it. I'd seen boxers with nicer schnozzles. His hair was light brown, liberally salted with gray, his eyes mud colored. He was casually, but well, dressed in slacks and a polo shirt.

Ty gestured to him. "Candy, this is Damien Manchester. Sir, this is Candice Kane."

Manchester smiled warmly and held out a hand. His grip was firm and dry. "A pleasure to finally meet you, my dear. I saw you in passing at last year's dinner but didn't get the opportunity to meet you." He glanced at Ty. "Or perhaps it would be more honest to say that I just didn't get around to it. My loss, I assure you. Tyrone has spoken quite highly of you. Please, take a moment to join me before he slips away with you."

I smiled back and slid into the booth. Ty sat down next to me, his leg pressed firmly against mine. That set off an unexpected flutter in my stomach that I firmly told to stay put.

"I remember you most vividly," I said. "You cut quite the dashing image in your sailing togs. Your wife was very lucky."

He laughed. "You mean I looked like Thurston Howell the third? It's both kind and diplomatic of you to say so. Elsa was smiling because I looked like an idiot and every so often she'd lean over and tell me so. Still, you're right that I'm lucky to have a wife like her. Not many people would put up with my sense of humor."

"At least you didn't look like Gilligan," I quipped.

He laughed and shook his head. "A woman with a sense of humor. Treat her well or else you'll regret it, my young friend," he told Ty.

"I'm afraid my sense of humor is much lower than hers," Ty smirked. "I'll be on my best behavior, sir."

Manchester waggled a finger at him. "See that you do." His expression sobered and he focused his attention back on me. "I understand you found Steven."

My smile faded at the reminder of the dead man. I nodded. "I did. You were his partner, weren't you? I'm so sorry for your loss."

He nodded. "That and more. He and I have been... were best friends since we were in college together. Part of me still hasn't accepted that he won't be coming through the door any minute. I can't believe he's gone. His death has devastated Elsa and me." He tried to smile. "I tried to get her to come out and meet you, but she's still too distraught."

A pang of sympathy shot through me. "You shouldn't let us keep you, then. She needs you. Go home."

"You need me enough for the keys to the boat," he said as he stood up. Ty stood up with him. He pulled a plain key ring from his pocket and set it in Ty's hand. "She's a good ship. Bring her home in one piece or don't come back." His smile was a ghost but the attempt at humor was evident.

Ty grinned. "I promise. It's not like I could just sail off into the sunset anyway; Tahoe is a lake, and we're on the wrong side anyhow."

Manchester laughed again, clapping Ty on the shoulder. The two of them shook hands and I rose to my feet as well. "I realize this is none of my business, but what about the project you were working on with Mister Armstrong. Will it be going forward without him?"

All humor fled from his face and he stuck out his jaw pugnaciously. "Raising the Tahoe might have been Steven's idea originally, but it's become my dream, too. With or without Steven beside me, the S.S. Tahoe will be raised and refurbished. It's Steven's legacy, and I'll see it through, come hell or high water."

He took a deep breath and seemed to shake himself. A smile touched his lips again. "Forgive me. I'm still on unsettled ground. You two have a nice trip and I'll pick up the keys from you tomorrow, Tyrone." He touched two fingers to his temple and bowed a notch before turning and walking out the front door.

"He'll do it, too," Ty said. "And he'll spit in the eye of anyone that tells him he can't." He glanced at me. "Shall we pick up our lunch, Milady?"

I smiled lopsidedly. "Milady, am I? I better keep an eye on you, you smooth devil."

"That won't help," he assured me. "I'll only make my move when you aren't looking."

* * * * *

It was two PM by the time we picked up a picnic basket and a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. The breeze was starting to pick up from the south now that the afternoon was upon us and I was glad my hair was still tied back.

Ty led me down one of the piers and stopped in front of a big, turquoise blue sailboat. It looked as fast and sleek as an otter. Her name was Naughty Monkey. That made me laugh.

He climbed aboard and I handed him the food before scrambling nimbly aboard. While he unlocked the cabin and got the food settled, I examined the controls and sails. The sails were powered so we wouldn't have to heave and ho. The controls were modern and well provided for.

"Where shall we go, Milady?" Ty asked as he came out of the cabin. "West to Emerald Bay? North to deep water?"

"Let's hit deep water," I decided. "We can drop sail and enjoy the peace and quiet."

"Your wish is my command," he said with an elaborate bow.

I stowed my purse and helped him get the sails set and us underway. The Monkey picked up the freshening wind and shot into the lake like an eager horse leaping to the gallop.




A Touch of Death Ch. 04



"Why don't you enjoy the sun while I get us to deep water?" he asked.

I spared a look for the sun-filled prow of the boat. "I shouldn't..."

He smiled. "We have all afternoon. Go enjoy the sun. I even brought up a towel and sunscreen for you." He gestured to the bench next to him.

"How did you set all this up? This must be an expensive boat to loan out to someone."

He shrugged and grinned nonchalantly. "I have my ways. Go enjoy the sun while you can. I'll let you know when I'm about to heave to."

The corners of my mouth twitched up. "Okay."

I stepped carefully onto the bow deck and, lacking a lounge chair, I spread the towel out. A glance back told me I had an appreciative audience of one. That set off another roil of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. I was seriously conflicted. Part of me wanted the attention and the rest of me was unsure of what to do about it.

And, to add to the pressure, I was about to do the next best thing to stripping in front of him. I hadn't considered how little my bikini covered before I decided to wear it. However I decided to unwrap the package, he would be watching and I would be sending some kind of message. I wish I had some idea what I wanted to say.

There was an almost static tingle across my shoulders as I turned my back and pulled off my blouse. I could feel his eyes caressing me. My mind flashed back to the rug and fire, but now substituted a boat alone on a large lake. I firmly pushed the image away, but the reality, possibility, of it caused goose bumps to rise on my arms. My mind might not be sure what it wanted but my body knew what it liked.

I could feel his gaze drop as I stepped out of my shorts. Realizing I was displaying myself for Ty made my face and neck flush. I kicked my shoes off and picked up the suntan lotion and began spreading it across my face, arms, front, and legs. I was doing my ankles when it occurred to me just what a view I must be giving Ty. With a smile only for myself, I decided I liked it.

"Let me do you."

I straightened abruptly and looked back over my shoulder uncertainly at him.

"Your back," he said dryly. "I wouldn't want you to burn."

I shook my head and smiled ruefully. "You're a troublemaker, Tyrone Walker."

He smiled and bowed grandly. "At your service, Milady."

I made my way back to him, handed him the lotion, and turned to face the side of the boat. The sound the lotion made as he squirted it into his hands almost made me laugh. It sounded disgusting the way he did it.

Then his hands touched my shoulders.

It was like an electric spark jumped from him and shot right down to the middle of my being. When he started rubbing those slick, warm fingers across my back I felt like a flame had turned on inside me. Sudden intense heat. My vision started to sparkle and I realized I'd stopped breathing. I took a ragged breath.

"You know how to moisturize a girl," I teased him. I blushed when I realized the different ways that could be taken.

His voice was smug and his breath was hot when he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "I know how to do a surprising number of things; moisturizing just happens to be one of my specialties." His rough stubble rubbing across my neck did excruciating things inside me. It astonished me how badly I wanted him.

I knew if I wanted to keep what dignity I could salvage and avoid just pulling him to the deck and having my way with him, I needed to put some space between us right away. I stepped away from him and half turned. "I think you've moistened me up enough to take some sun. Thanks."

Judging from his eyes he'd felt the heat, too. "Anytime. Anytime at all."

I rearranged the angle of the towel and lay on my back. With my eyes closed, the world seemed to exist only as a golden glow. I focused my thoughts back to how his hands had felt as they glided over my flesh and concealed a sigh. What was wrong with me? I should either want this or not. Instead I was second guessing everything.

It seemed like I had only had my eyes closed a minute when Ty shook my arm gently. My eyes popped open and I sat up abruptly. I'd fallen asleep.

"Lunch is ready, Milady."

On a tablecloth next to us was a scrumptious looking meal of cold meats and cheese with a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses standing at the ready.

"It looks wonderful," I said, stretching my arms high above my head and arching my back. "You've made this a magical moment. Do you have after-lunch plans, too?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes dark and mysterious. "Oh, yes."

That sent another warm shiver through me.



A Touch of Death Ch. 05



Chapter Five

I stared up at him through slitted eyes. His dark face was flushed and his nicely shaped chest heaved as though he'd run a marathon. I hoped no one had heard my shrieking. Not that it bothered Ty. He seemed overly pleased by it, in fact.

"When you said you had after lunch plans, I had no idea the trouble you intended to get into," I told him from my vantage about ten feet to the east of the sailboat. I treaded water and glared up at him from where he'd unceremoniously thrown me overboard and into the cold water. My nipples shrank to tight, almost painfully hard eraser tips.

"It was nothing," he said modestly. "You just looked so smokin' hot that I knew I had to cool us down."

"I seem to be the only one cooling down," I answered dryly. Actually, the water felt good after the warm sun and I did need to cool off the heat I'd felt growing between us. Not that I intended to share that little bit of information with Ty.

"Good point." He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside carelessly. When his shorts joined them I could see I didn't have to worry about having the most revealing bathing suit. That little bit of cloth might have been labeled a swimsuit in Europe, but here in the good ole USA it was called a thong.

He looked down at his undeniably hunky body. His abs were so defined you could grate cheese with them. He had the deluxe package: wide shoulders, a trim waist, dark skin, and enough dark curly hair to run your fingers through without being a rug. "You like my suit? I picked it up while I was in the service."

I let my eyes wander low enough to take the full tour. "Nice suit. Very Euro-trash. I thought it was bathing suit optional over there. Or is this a compromise between the two options?"

He grinned and dove in, surfacing a few feet away. "I'm the very soul of compromise," he assured me. "Still, this far out on the lake I suppose I could just take it off."

Even in the cold water I felt my body flush. Parts of me were voting to check out door number two with gusto. The residual ache in my nipples crossed the line to pleasure and added their voices to the discussion. I ruthlessly ruled them down.

"I'm sure you'd be all for that, wouldn't you big guy," I said in my best quelling tone of voice. "Then I, of course, would have to pony up or look chicken, right? Didn't you get a good enough look this morning?"

His grin told me I wasn't that far off the mark. "Truthfully? No."

I grabbed his head and dunked him with a growl. He didn't fight me at all, unless you count his hands grabbing me and pulling us together when he came back up for air.

All the parts of me that I'd ruled out of order began clamoring for a recount. His body burned against mine as he effortlessly kept both of us afloat all by himself. I wonder if he could tread water with my legs wrapped around... I caught my thought just before it turned to action and fought my way back from the brink.

All he did was smile. He knew what a devastating effect he was having on me, I was sure, but he kept his hands outside forbidden territory. I only hoped I was having a similar effect on him.

I rolled my eyes. If I was we might burst into flame, water or no water. "So, you'd like to see more?" I asked in my best smoky voice. "What if I'm too nervous to skinny dip?"

"I suppose I could help," he said in a thoughtful voice.

I was actually seriously considering that when he suddenly submerged, angling away and leaving me floating alone on the surface.

"Tyrone Walker," I screamed. "You better not touch me!"

Without warning his body flashed past mine, his fingers tugging on my top but leaving it in place. Then he was gone again.

I, of course, shrieked. Then I twisted myself around in a circle as fast as I could, watching for him to surface. Nothing.

Seconds ticked by and I started growing concerned at his absence. "Ty?"

Again he flashed past me from behind, this time tugging lightly on my bottoms. I shrieked again, in spite of myself.

I wasn't waiting around for another pass so I quickly swam to the sailboat's stern and scampered up the ladder, carelessly letting water sluice off me onto the deck. I ran from one side of the boat to the other looking for him in the clear water. Nothing. Where was he?

After a minute I was getting scared. "Tyrone Walker stop scaring me," I shouted. "Stop it!"

Something wet and soft smacked against my back and fell to the deck. I whirled and glared at Ty as he floated, grinning, in the water behind the boat. I forced my eyes to not look down, resolutely not thinking about what was laying at my feet and what he wasn't wearing now.

"You scared me to death!" I railed at him. "I thought you'd drowned or something!"

His grin faded into a lazy, confident smile. "I told you I was a diver and a SEAL. That means I can hold my breath a long, long time."

The urge to grab something and throw it at him was almost irresistible. I only barely caught myself before I grabbed his thong. I snatched my hand back from its downward plunge and grimaced.

Ty, the rat, laughed.

"I ought to sail right off and leave your naked ass floating out here in the lake," I said.

It didn't diminish his humor but my threat toned his grin down to a smile. "I wouldn't want that," he said. "I should just hop right up. Don't you think?"

My traitor face again turned red and my curiosity warred with my decorum. "Whatever you like," I said in a falsely offhand manner.

Slowly, one step at a time, he rose like a god from the waters. A god who was wearing his thong.

I whipped my eyes down and saw a wet washcloth lying innocently on the deck. Where the hell had he gotten a washcloth? My eyes slitted and I glared at him. "Bastard!"

I shoved his laughing ass off the boat.

* * * * *

Things settled down after that, for which I was grateful. This afternoon had been taking a turn in a direction I wasn't sure how to handle and I needed to make some decisions about what I wanted.

We dried off and got dressed again before setting course back to the marina. I lounged on the bench and watched him sail. Even with his clothes on, I could still imagine the hard lines of his body. His glances back at me held a kind of smoldering heat that promised... What? Passion? Incredible sex? Love? Probably not love.

I sighed. After Calvin, I wasn't sure that I wanted to love someone again. I needed to focus on what was real. He and I had an attraction game going on and I had to know how far I was willing to go before something happened to push me past it. Did I want to have sex with Ty? My body, at least, quickly informed me where it stood. No surprise there, it was all for the idea.

He looked great. The sex would probably be incredible. The question was, would I be letting myself in for more pain than it was worth when it ended? He wasn't moving back here, after all. He was just here to do a job and then he'd leave. I'd be alone again.

I think about things too much. What's the Nike motto? Just do it. Make a decision and go. Let the pieces fall where they may.

When I stopped thinking so hard, I noticed he was staring at me with a confident smile on that handsome face of his. Did he know what I was thinking? Did it matter? What was I afraid of? Being hurt? Been there, done that. Someone finding out about my curse? Maybe, but it seemed unlikely anyone would ever believe it was real. Hell, if people could believe in crystals then this could be played off as another harmless eccentricity, right?

"Penny for your thoughts," he said.

My lips curved in a smile. "I'm not sure they're worth a penny."

"Do I frighten you?"

I blinked in surprise. "No, why should you?"

"I'm a pretty direct person and that sometimes scares people. What's the word? Forward. Direct. It's a carryover from my 'bad boy' days."

"Well, you don't frighten me," I said firmly. "I like to know where people stand. It makes life simpler. You're not dangerous or anything."

He laughed. "Oh, yes I am."

"I think I'll just take my chances."

That sure sounded like I'd made my mind up.

We sailed on in silence for a few minutes. I spent half of it wondering if he knew things had just changed between us before deciding that it didn't matter.

"Toss me my purse," I said at last. "I need to go freshen up."

He grabbed my purse from where it hung on his chair and hefted it in surprise. "Jeeze, what do you carry in here? Rocks?"

I laughed. "It's not that heavy!"

He peered inside my purse and plucked out the Crown Royal bag. "This is what's so heavy." He glanced at me curiously. "What's in it, if you don't mind my asking."

I'd forgotten all about the bag. How did I explain it? I hadn't meant to, but I guess I'd stolen whatever it was. Well, maybe borrowed without permission would be closer to my intent, not that my opinion would carry much weight if I got caught. I'd just wanted to know what was in it. I still did. Things hadn't slowed down enough for me to take a peek. Perhaps now was the time.

"Well, that's a little complicated," I admitted.

He arched an eyebrow. "How complicated can it be? You either know or you don't and, if you don't, then why carry it around?"

I put on my best abashed expression. "I kind of picked it up while I was snooping around. It was an accident, really."

He assumed the expression of a man who'd heard this all before and was sure he wouldn't like what he was going to hear. "You fill me with dread. Snooping where? About the Armstrong thing?"

I cringed just a bit. "I was just asking a few questions."

He hefted the bag. "This is a bit more substantial than words. And a bit more illegal. Tell me. Please."

Haltingly, I told him about my meeting with Wallace. And about slipping back into his house after he fled.

Ty kept his face neutral and attentive until I finished. He hefted the bag again and frowned at it. "That does sound pretty suspicious," he finally admitted. He speared me with his eyes. "But breaking into his house wasn't smart. You almost got caught. Was this worth it?"

"Open it and find out."

He smiled wryly. "That's it, make me an accomplice and I'll have to stop riding you about interfering with a police investigation?"

"Like that would stop you," I snorted. "And they've already made up their minds. I have people who know people. Take my word for it; they think this was an accident."

"In that case, let me get something pointy to untie this knot."

"You're going to help me?" I asked, surprised.

His gaze was steady. "If I don't you'll just go it alone. If I'm wrong, no harm done. Unless, of course, you get arrested."

"Your confidence underwhelms me."

He grinned. "On the other hand, if you're right, your bumbling around could get someone interested in you and not in a pleasant way."

"Bumbling?" I asked, outraged. "I wasn't bumbling."

"And that was how you accidentally stole something and ripped off all your clothes in public?"

I pushed my nose up in the air and sniffed. "You make it all sound so sordid. And I didn't see you complaining about the state of my clothes."

"It was that sordid and do you realize your mother thinks we're sleeping together?"

"What?" I asked in consternation. "Why would she think that?"

"Let's see, when she looked out the window we were together and you were more than half naked under that jacket, that's why. I could tell from the looks and questions she shot my way while you changed."

I flushed. "Great. I'll deal with it. If she gets too nosy I'll ask her about the secret man in her life. That should shut her right up. Open the bag and quit torturing me."

"Secret man? That sounds like quite a story. I bet the revelation will be fascinating." He ducked down into the cabin and came back out with a pin. He sat down beside me and slowly undid the knot and opened the bag.

"What the hell?"

He reached into the bag and pulled out what looked like a twisted, melted lump of metal about five inches long and half again thick and wide. It glittered and gleamed in buttery gold.

"Is that gold?" I asked incredulously.

"It's heavy enough to be gold," Ty admitted. "It might be fool's gold, I suppose. It weighs at least a pound and a half. Maybe two. If it is real, it must be worth a fortune. Where did you find it again?"

"In a grungy filing cabinet in Jake Wallace's office." I held out my hand. "Let me see that."

Wordlessly, he handed it over. It was cold, hard, and solid in my hand. Before I could make another comment, the vision overwhelmed me.

I was still staring at the twisted lump of metal in my hand, but it wasn't my hand anymore. The arm was covered in a sleeve of rough-spun material, a sleeve that was torn and patched in many places. The gold lump in his hand was the same one I'd found, but now it was coated in mud and seemed duller.

"Gold..." a voice said. The voice of my temporary host. His voice sounded scratchy and breathless. "Gold."

He looked around and I saw he was standing in a hole a few feet deep near a muddy stream. The landscape was mostly brush with a few twisted trees dotting the hill above him.

A hundred feet upstream were a pair of men dressed in ragged overalls with the knees torn out. They had obviously been patched time and again. Each wore a wide-brimmed hat and high boots. The tops were folded down and had the legs of the overalls tucked into them. Under the overalls were long sleeve shirts of some rough material dyed a ratty brown, buttoned up to the neck.

They looked to be in their late forties but the bushy beards might be throwing off my estimate. One had a crude pick stopped halfway to his shoulder and both of them stared at me, at the man, with mouths open. They looked like some men in pictures I'd seen of the 49ers. Prospectors.

The man thrust the huge gold nugget into the air with a scream of triumph. "Gold! I've struck it rich! Do ya hear that? Lem Abrams is a rich man!"

Even as the other men rushed forward to look at the gold the vision faded and I was looking into Ty's worried face.

"Candy? What's wrong?"

I blinked and gathered my scattered wits. Dammit. I'd zoned out in front of him. He'd seen me this way twice in two days. At least I hadn't fainted.

"I think this really is gold," I said, ignoring his question. Maybe he'd just let it ride. "It doesn't look like iron pyrite. It must weigh over a pound. How much is something like that worth?"

He shrugged, moved back, and watched me with a concerned expression. "Who is Lem Abrams?"

A cold wind blew through my soul. Crap! What had I said? I hadn't realized I could speak during a vision.

"I'm sorry. What?" I temporized.

"You mumbled something. All I caught was something that sounded like 'Lem Abrams.' Is that a name and, if so, what does it have to do with a whopping big lump of gold?"

"I read something somewhere about one of the '49ers," I lied. "That was the name I remembered." I hefted the gold. "This reminded me of him because it looks like something he might've found."

His eyes were dark and unreadable. "I see." He reached out and plucked the gold from my hand and examined it again. "He doesn't sound like the kind of guy that would have a lump of gold worth thousands of dollars. At least."

I couldn't agree more. He didn't strike me as a man having much money at all. "That's one of the reasons he seems a little off to me."

Ty scowled at me. "I can't say I'm very happy about this obsession you're having. If Steven Armstrong was murdered, you need to let the police handle it. You could go to jail for taking this. Breaking and entering. Grand theft. Those kind of things can send you to jail for a couple of decades. Is that what you want?"

I narrowed my gaze back at him. "Is this the teen rebel I knew all grown up? It looks like age and experience have turned you into a pussy."

I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. To my surprise, he threw his head back and laughed.

"If that's what you think, you really don't know me. The difference between then and now is that I understand what risks to take and which ones to decline. You're not planning on keeping the gold, are you?"

I shook my head. "Not if it really belongs to Wallace. I didn't intend to take it anyway. I'm not a thief," I sniffed.

"Yes," he assured me, "you are. At least in the eyes of the law if not to people that like you, like me. You need to put this someplace safe that won't be searched if Wallace calls the cops on you. Do you have a place?"

"You're not mad at me?"

He shook his head. "I'm worried about you. I think you're getting in over your head. I don't want to see you get hurt."

All my tension flowed away and I smiled. "I'll be more careful," I swore. "I can hide this away until I talk to Wallace again."

He tapped his fingernails on the side of the boat. "I'd rather you didn't take any more chances."

"I'll be uber careful," I assured him.

He raised his eyes to the heavens. "Why do I doubt that?" he asked rhetorically. At least I was going to pretend it was rhetorical.

After I failed to respond, he shook his head. "Well, we better start heading back in. I don't know about you but I need to rinse off. Ladies first, if you like."

I barely stopped myself from asking if he'd like to rinse off together. I opened my mouth and it almost fell out. Jeeze, I had it bad.

I grabbed my purse and dry clothes before ducking into the cabin. I tossed an ambiguous smile over my shoulder at Ty. I wasn't quite at the point to be making explicit overtures but I wouldn't necessarily say no if he made one. The thrill that ran up my spine as I considered the odds of him joining me in the shower made me feel sexy. I'd forgotten how fun the game was to play.

The cabin was large, well lit, and comfortable. It had a king-sized bed with blue silk sheets and a fluffy comforter. The walls held what certainly looked like original art, mostly seascapes, built-in dressers, and a vanity with a large mirror.

I made a stop at the vanity just to see what was there. I expected to find a vast array of makeup but there was actually very little, though it all looked pricey. There was also a bit of inexpensive jewelry in a small, open wicker basket. Fake gems and some inexpensive silver chains. A half heart locket like the ones that were popular back when I was in high school peeked out from the tangle. A hand-drawn line in blue ink looked like waves at the very bottom of the heart.

The bathroom itself wasn't nearly as compact as I'd been afraid I'd find. It even had a two person whirlpool bath to go with the shower stall. I opened the shower stall door and considered how well to wash off.

After a moment's consideration, I left my swimsuit on and slipped into the shower. If I took it off and he joined me, we'd end up having sex right here, right now. I wasn't quite ready.

It only took a few minutes to rinse off. I grabbed a towel and stepped back into the bedroom, vigorously drying my hair. When I pulled the damp hair away from my face I saw Ty sitting at the vanity, smiling at me with bedroom eyes. Uh oh.

"I might have been naked," I said dryly.

"There was that possibility," he agreed. He stood up and sauntered into the bathroom. "You pays your money, you takes your chances."

I stood frozen in place as he turned the water on and slid the glass shower door closed. I smiled and wondered if he would be naked when he came out. I shook my head. I'd be finding out if I didn't get dressed and back up on deck right now.

His clothes were laying right next to mine on the bed, I saw as I started moving. Something black and metallic lay under his shirt. I spared a glance at the bathroom and picked up the shirt. Nestled into a small holster was a large pistol.

I swallowed. He carried a gun? Wow. Without thinking, I picked it up.




A Touch of Death Ch. 05



In a blink I was standing in front of a man. He was white and tall, dressed in a western shirt and dark brown cowboy hat. He towered over me with a grim expression. I could feel the gun in my hand, down at my waist. It felt huge.

"It's time," the man said. "Show me what you've learned."

He turned me to face to the left and I saw a crude target attached to several bales of hay about fifteen feet away.

If I could've fallen to the ground in relief, I would have. I wasn't going to have to kill someone.

Instead, I saw the hands holding the pistol rise in front of me and aim at the target. The hands were small, smaller than mine. A child's hands.

"A gun's always loaded," a young boy's, Ty's, voice said. "I gotta treat it like that every time."

"Good," the man - his father? - said with satisfaction. "What keeps a loaded gun from going off when you don't want it to?"

"The safety."

"That's right, the safety. Take off the safety, son." It was his dad.

I watched Ty's hands as he held the pistol in a two handed grip and used his thumb to snap down a lever on the side of the pistol. It seemed hard to move but it finally did.

"Tell me when you pull a gun on a man," Ty's dad said.

"When I have to shoot him, Daddy." He said it so matter-of-factly.

"Cock the hammer and tell me what you do when you shoot a man," he commanded.

The hammer was even harder to pull back for Ty's young thumb. If I had to guess by hands, Ty was no older than ten. With two distinct clicks, it pulled all the way back.

"If I shoot a man, I shoot to kill," Ty said. I shivered at the calm tone a little boy said that with.

"Why not just wing him?"

"Never pull a gun unless you intend to use it and never use it unless you shoot to kill."

"That's didn't answer my question. Why shoot to kill?"

"Because he might kill you if you don't."

"Good enough," Ty's dad said with satisfaction. "The pistol's going to jump in your hand. Let it. Look down the sights. Put the dot on the target and between the sight posts."

The top of the pistol had two little metal bumps with a space in between them on the rear of the barrel and a bump the same size with a red dot on it at the front of the barrel. Ty lined them up so the red dot was on the center of the target and the front bump was centered between the two rear ones. "Ready."

"Squeeze the trigger slowly. Let the shot come as a surprise to you. That's the only way to not jerk the barrel up and miss."

I felt Ty's finger squeeze the trigger and the terrible bang startled the hell out of me. A bright flash and an explosion of sulfurous smoke. The slide jacked back and a gleaming brass object flew up and to the right before I could get a good look. It slammed back forward just as fast.

Ty handled it better than I would have and just let the hand holding the pistol fly up a few inches before bringing it back down to point it at the target. My ears were ringing. They should've been wearing earplugs!

When the smoke cleared, I saw a black dot marring the white an inch below the center of the target.

"Safe your pistol," his father commanded, "and set it down."

Ty used his thumb to click the safety up before laying it on the grass with the barrel pointing at the target. He turned and faced his father.

The look of satisfaction on his father's face was only in view for a moment before he crushed Ty to his chest with both arms wrapped around him. "You done good, boy. I love you."

"I love you, Daddy."

I blinked my eyes to clear away the tears and stared at the pistol still in my hands. That was scary and way too personal for me to have seen without permission. I felt like a voyeur.

The sound of the shower ceased. Oh, crap.

I slapped the pistol back on the clothes and dropped Ty's shirt over it before grabbing my own clothes and bolting up the stairs onto the deck.

By the time he sauntered up the stairs a minute later I was fully dressed and leaning casually back in my seat. "So," I asked, "did you come out naked?"

He smiled at me in a way that melted my insides. "You should've hung around to find out."

"Maybe next time," I said mysteriously.



A Touch of Death Ch. 06



Ty piloted a slow course to the marina. When we docked, I gathered my things, making sure the gold was safe in my purse, and helped with the picnic supplies.

We walked slowly back to Ty's car and I considered my options while he stored everything in the trunk.

He smiled at me as he closed the trunk. "Did you have a good time?" he asked.

I nodded without hesitation. "I did. Thanks for inviting me out. I hope we can do something like it again soon."

"I promise."

Edward Stanton was pacing impatiently back and forth like a caged tiger in the lobby of the lodge when Ty delivered me home. His eyes darkened as he saw the two of us and he stormed right over, waving a finger in my face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Stanton demanded.

That called for my professional face so I schooled my features. I'd had to deal with irate guests before. No matter how hard you tried, there was always someone who couldn't be satisfied.

"Good afternoon, Mister Stanton. What's the matter?"

He glared at me. "You know damned well what's the matter. How dare you come to my house and harass my wife like this? You virtually called me a murderer in front of her and I deeply resent it. You can't go around accusing upstanding citizens like Wallace and myself of murder."

"Are you one?" Ty asked without inflection.

Stanton purpled with rage. "Screw you," he snarled at Ty before returning his attention to me. "Stay away from me and my family. If you don't, I'll sue you for everything you have."

It was a struggle to keep from losing control of my temper but I somehow managed. "I never told Alison you killed anyone. I just said that there was some question about Steven Armstrong's death. I apologize if there was some kind of misunderstanding."

"There are no questions about it," he sneered. "The Sheriff told me personally it was an accident. He and I go way back so don't fuck with me." He poked his finger into my chest to make his point.

Ty grabbed the offending hand and twisted it behind Stanton's back with the wrist twisted almost double and shoved him almost face down on the floor. It all happened so quickly that I wasn't sure exactly what he did. Ty's movements, though lightning fast, seemed almost casual.

"Hasn't anyone told you it's not nice to touch a lady without her permission?" Ty asked in voice that sounded as cold as a glacier. "Apologize."

"Let... Me... Go," Stanton gasped in pain.

"Apologize to Miss Kane. Now. And it better sound sincere because a few more pounds of pressure and unfortunate things might happen to your wrist."

A quick look around showed me that both staff and guests were gaping at us. "Let him go, Ty," I hissed.

My emotions about Ty's actions were wavering between anger at being treated like I couldn't handle myself and pleasure at being defended. I know it wasn't logical to feel that way about the same act, but I did. I'm a woman. Sue me.

Ty's eyes were dark and hooded as he briefly met my gaze. "Not till I hear an apology from Mister Terrific." He forced Stanton's arm higher and got a grunt of anguish from him. "What are you waiting for? Simon says? Let me help you start. I'm..."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Stanton squealed.

"See? That wasn't so hard," Ty said as he released Stanton's arm and stepped back beside me as though nothing had taken place.

Stanton straightened, rubbing his arm and glaring at both of us. "You'll regret crossing me." His delivery was ruined when Ty reached up to scratch his own chin and Stanton flinched.

With one more withering glare at us, Stanton beat a hasty retreat out the front door.

I whirled on Ty, ignoring the continuing stares from the observers. "I could've handled him myself," I said in a low voice. "Don't you think that was a bit over the top?"

He smiled, unrepentant. "I know you could have. As for being over the top, well, I do have a reputation as a wild man to maintain."

I rolled my eyes. "Now he's going to be much harder to deal with. What if he calls the Sheriff's Deputies?"

He looked down into my eyes. "Then I'll deal with them. He wouldn't have been very cooperative at this point anyway."

Would arguing about this do any good? Probably not. I sighed to display my frustration. "I suppose not."

Ty glanced at his watch. "I need to go meet with the boss for a few hours. Stay out of trouble. Okay?"

I almost gasped in outrage. "After that display you have the gall to tell me to stay out of trouble?"

"Yes."

I thought for a moment that he was going to kiss me but he didn't. I watched him saunter out with his hands in his back pockets and lusted in my heart.

* * * * *

A long, hot shower let me settle myself down. I selected a long-sleeved blouse to go with a fresh pair of jeans instead of a tee shirt. It was going to start getting cool before I got home, after all. Welcome to Lake Tahoe.

I slipped into one of the rooms on the first floor reserved for family storage and stashed the gold nugget in a box of knick-knacks that had belonged to my grandfather. There was no reason for anyone to be in here at all, much less looking through a box of stuff that hadn't been opened in a decade. It would be safe here, just in case someone came looking for it. That done, I got in my car and got busy.

Ty wouldn't approve, but I drove around Jake Wallace's block anyway. His car wasn't there and the house was dark. I considered slipping back inside but after nearly getting caught by someone last time I didn't think that was the best idea I'd ever had.

My cell phone rang just as I was getting clear of the neighborhood.

"This is Candy."

"Hey, this is Zach. I have some information, but it's going to cost you."

I smiled. "Hey, big man. Do you take barter?"

"Dinner? Sure, but I pick the place," he responded.

"Deal. Spill it."

"Nope," he said with a grin in his voice. "I'll reveal all over steaks."

I raised an eyebrow even though he couldn't see it. "Sounds like you've got something good. Where and when?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it's good but it's important. Meet me at Tahoe Inn in half an hour. I have a reservation."

"The Inn?" I asked in dismay. "Zach, you know I can't stand Calvin and Dora. Can't we go somewhere else?"

"And that's why you jog right to their front door every morning? I thought you liked tweaking their noses."

He had a point. "I can be obnoxious?"

"I've known you for years," he assured me. "You certainly can be."

"I meant that as a request for permission rather than an appraisal of my character," I said dryly. "If I can yank their chains I might consider it. Still, why there?"

"I already had a reservation and the steaks are killer ," he admitted. "You have my permission to escalate if they show up and start taking potshots," he allowed judiciously. "

I sighed and gave in. "Fine. You win. I'll see you there in half an hour." With any luck at all I might be able to get a table that was out of the way and avoid Satan and his woman.

* * * * *

The dining room at the Inn was arrayed along the lake-side of the building and had a series of plate-glass windows overlooking the water. This close to dark, the eastern peaks were ablaze with light and the western ones already overcome by shadow. In just a little bit the lake would fall into dusk.

Crisp, white cloth, silver, and crystal covered the crowded tables. Wait staff in almost formal black glided around the room seeing to the guests with admirable dispatch. Not that I wanted to, mind you, but I had to give the devil his due. Since I refused to believe that Calvin or Dora were capable of this level of class, they had to have hired someone with real talent.

The rear wall of the dining room was a bar with lots of shine and mirrors. A few patrons were scattered on the stools, some watching the pending sunset and some not.

One of them, a woman, was so striking I had to give her a second and third look. She wasn't just beautiful, she was gorgeous. Flawlessly tanned skin, perfect features, brown hair that was anything but ordinary, and dressed to kill in an expensive black sheath dress that barely contained her assets, she was a man-killer. Every man in the place was staring at her, though you'd never know that from the notice she took of them. I pegged her at somewhere around my age.

I'm as straight as an arrow, but that didn't stop me from feeling the waves of raw sensuality the woman was putting off, seemingly without effort. I hoped Zach and I could get a table that was turned so Zach was facing away from her. If not I'd have to order him a bib.

My hopes of a discreet seat were shattered when the maitre d' led me to a table near the bar. It was in plain sight of anyone that wanted to look. I had trouble believing they actually had a maŒtre'd. As far as I knew, the Inn didn't have a rating, four star or otherwise. When I considered Dora's snoot factor, though, it made sense. Who knows? If they went this far they might have food to match and be going for a rating.

Zach was already seated, thankfully with his back to the sex goddess, poring over the wine list, his bulk dominating the diners scattered around him. I sat down and shook my head at him when he looked up.

"Could you possibly draw more attention to us?" I asked waspishly. "You know, hire a mariachi band or something?"

"The polka guy with the accordion will be by when we get to dessert." He grinned at my discomfort so I rolled my eyes at him.

By the time the waiter arrived, we were not only ready to order drinks, we ordered our salads and main courses. He took our order and disappeared into the back. I might have to take some notes. I loved Karen and all, but the wait staff at the Lodge might take some pointers from the crew here.

"Spill," I told Zach after our wine had been brought out.

"I was able to find out a few things from various people I know. Doc Mathews is keeping his mouth shut but I know a guy in his office. He's examined the body and has a preliminary cause of death. He won't make an official ruling until the lab has finished checking for drugs and stuff, but it looks like Steven Armstrong had a massive blow to the left side of his head. Among other things."

I already knew all this, but I had to 'officially' learn it before I could safely use it. "Did that kill him?"

Zach tilted his head back and forth ambivalently. "Sort of. It fractured the skull and might have killed him if the broken neck hadn't. He was already dying when he hit the water since the lungs were clear."

I didn't have to fake a shudder. "How horrible. Does he think it was an accident or something more sinister?"

"I think he's leaning toward accident. The grease on the dock fits right into that line of thinking. Armstrong walks out after dark, steps on it and goes down hard, snaps his neck, and rolls into the drink. I bet the Fletcher's insurance company will love that."

I grimaced. "Believe me, I'd love to find fault but it's a freaking dock out in the open. Water, grease, oil, and more get spilled by boaters. I saw the dock. It was hardly defective. There's a limit on what owners can do to protect people on their property."

"Tell that to the lawyers," he said with a grin. "you know they'll be all over this like white on rice."

In today's 'sue everyone' environment, I had to concede. "It couldn't happen to a nicer couple. So the Coroner is probably going to decide it was an accident unless something unexpected turns up in Armstrong's blood. What else?"

He held his answer as the waiter brought out our salads. A quick bite revealed they were crisp, fresh, and tasty. My satisfaction with the food warred with my disappointment at seeing Dora's place so sharp. The fact that a snooty restaurant would be out of place in a town like Angel's Point was, well, beside the point.

"The next bit of word comes from a pal of mine in the Sheriff's Department. It looks like Deputy Cooper is leaning the same way as Doc. He's told more than one person how he thinks this all went down."

I ground my teeth in frustration. "Why does everyone just leap to that conclusion? Did he even have the dock looked at by whatever passes for a CSI department around here? Did he even question the people that were here for the dinner last night?"

Zach raised an eyebrow at me. "The evidence so far seems to be bearing their opinions out. It looks like you've come to the opposite conclusion. What do you know that they don't?"

That was a subject I had to change fast. "I watched Cooper start right in on his theory before they'd even taken Armstrong off the beach," I said, waving my arms a bit. "I just have a feeling, that's all. Women's intuition." I fixed him with a gimlet eye. "And you better not laugh at that, either."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not going there. If you want to crusade for justice against the man, who am I to argue? Go for it."

I took a calming drink of my wine. Getting pissed off wouldn't help me.

"As for the rest," he continued, "I did hear they had someone specific out to collect evidence on the dock and the beach. I can't speak as to his training. My man in the department said he questioned a few people that were at the dinner. I couldn't tell you who, though."

"Perfect," I muttered to myself. Unless I could generate some information I could explain, someone was going to get away with murder.

Zach raised his hands in apology. "Sorry. I didn't write the script."

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. "No, I'm sorry. This isn't your fault and I owe you big for asking around. I really appreciate it. I can't explain why, but I think Steven Armstrong's death was anything but an accident. I've got zip to back it up. Nada. Nothing."

Zach smiled. "You don't owe me. That's why you're buying dinner. It's no skin off my back if you think something funky went on."

I nodded and moved the conversation to safe trivialities until our food arrived. Damned if the steak wasn't melt-in-your-mouth delicious and the baked potato was done to perfection. I was going to have to do some serious re-evaluation of the Lodge's kitchen. I could do without all the decoration, but I couldn't let such a disparity in the food slide. Someone should've told me. We needed to kick it up a notch. Zach, wisely, made no comparison.

Come to think of it, maybe this was his way of politely showing me what Dora was up to. The irony that I was paying for the lesson wasn't lost on me either. I wasn't sure if that was in his favor or not. That would teach me to underestimate Zach Zoboroski.

I was counting my lucky stars when we were left sitting back contentedly looking over the remains of our meal without having been found by Dora or Calvin. I had to sigh in contentment at the experience and decline the offer of desserts, though they sounded wonderful.

Zach discreetly looked at his watch. "I hate to eat and run, but my brother wanted me to stop by."

I waved my hand negligently. "You've taught me my lesson, Master. You may now leave the student to digest your insight, so to speak."

He grinned and rose to his feet. "Call me if you need anything." With a mock salute, he sauntered out the door. Smug bastard. He was a good friend.

"Excuse me," an airy contralto voice interrupted my musings. "May I join you for a moment?" I looked up and found the sex goddess standing behind Zach's chair. Up close she was even more devastating than I thought. Christ, she was like a non-anorexic supermodel. Her eyes seem to smolder and her voice had just a hint of huskiness.

"Excuse me," she said again, making me realize I'd just sat there like a moron staring at her. She smiled slightly. "May I join you for a moment?"

I snapped my mouth closed and flushed with embarrassment. I hadn't realized it was open. "Wow, I've sure made a good first impression. Please, join me."

The woman slipped into her chair with a kind of sensuous grace and held her hand out to me. "Thank you. I'm Ginger."

"Candy Kane." Her hand was smooth and soft, with long, slender fingers capped with short nails coated in a pale red. Her grip was firm without being crushing.

Her smile kicked up a notch and her eyes twinkled a bit mischievously. "You must've gotten quite a lot of teasing in school."

"It could be worse. Dad might've named me 'Sugar'."

She threw her head back and laughed for a moment. "Oh, yes, that would've been hard to deal with, I'm sure. Either one risks having people ask how sweet you are to the taste. Have you ever considered changing it?"

I shook my head, wondering if that was sexual innuendo. "Not really, though I have threatened to." Time to see what this was all about. "What can I do for you, Ginger?"

"May I call you Candy?" At my nod, she continued. "Thank you. Candy, I couldn't help overhearing you and your large friend talking. Particularly, I heard you talking about Steven. You don't think it was an accident?"

I wondered how many times I would end up telling people that. Sooner or later, if it hadn't already, the murderer was going to hear about it. And, as Ty said, he might be annoyed.

I nodded. "I think someone wanted it to look that way but, no, I don't think it was an accident. I just can't tell people why I'm so sure. I have no proof."

Ginger leaned forward, unconsciously exposing a breathtaking expanse of cleavage to me. "I believe you," she said softly.

With another flush, I yanked my eyes back to her face. Jeeze, I was just as bad as a guy. "You do?" I asked, more than a bit surprised.

She nodded, apparently ignoring my wandering eyes. "I've been thinking something similar all day. It's all too convenient. Especially with the viper right there that night."

I sat up straight in my chair. "What viper?"

"His ex-wife's new husband," she said in a low voice. "He would really like to see Steven taken down. They had issues, like doing the new guy doing her while she was still married to my brother, but Steven refused to leave the Yacht Club just because they were there."

I savored the taste of that. "I had no idea he'd been married before. What's her name?"

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. "Are you investigating Steven's death? I never asked, but are you a cop or something?"

I shook my head. "I'm not a cop or anything like that. I'm manager and part owner of Kane Lodge, right up the beach. I found Mister Armstrong on the beach the morning after he died. I feel that I owe it to him to see that no stone was left unturned in finding out what happened to him. All I have are my suspicions."

"Good," she said, visibly relaxing. "I'm not a huge fan of law enforcement. Steven's ex-wife's name is Alison."

My mouth dropped open again. "Alison Stanton?"

Ginger nodded, surprised. "You know her?"

I ground my teeth together in poorly suppressed anger. "I talked with her just this morning and that little jewel of information was somehow overlooked."

Ginger shook her head but remained smiling. "Alison's usually good at keeping her cards close to her vest. Especially since her marriage to Steven. She was less than discreet in the case of her affair with Edward."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Steven found out, of course. It wasn't the infidelity that enraged him. It was her brazen disregard for keeping it under the table, so to speak. Edward wasn't the first man she'd had while they were married. He didn't seem to care about that."

"So he divorced her for being indiscreet, rather than infidelity?" I asked.

She nodded. "Exactly. He found out she was openly flaunting Edward, so he convinced her to go picnicking on their boat and tied up at the island in Emerald Bay. He got her naked and they had one last screw before he stranded her there alone, naked."

My expression must've been priceless because she laughed at me. "Yeah, I reacted the same way. At least he left her a picnic basket full of food, though not with the table cloth. It was still warm out and he called the police before dark. In the meanwhile, he piled all her expensive clothes in her car, drove it into the lake, changed all the locks on the house, and filed for divorce."




A Touch of Death Ch. 06



I was in awe. "Holy crap. He didn't cut corners on getting even."

"Steven had quite the temper," she agreed with the shake of her head. "Still, I don't know that Alison would have it in her to kill. Edward, on the other hand, hated Steven and he can be a violent man."

I had all too clear a memory of his temper. "You seem to be pretty up-to-date on what Steven was like. How did you know him?"

She smiled sadly. "Steven was my older brother. He and I were both outcasts in our way and we managed to stay close and give each other the chance to live a life without judging each other."

I frowned and examined her face more closely. I didn't see any family resemblance at all. "Please forgive me, but after Alison's little performance I'm not sure I take anything at face value. You don't look a lot like Steven Armstrong."

She opened her stylish purse and slid her wallet across to me. "Feel free to browse." It was made of smooth, soft leather and looked like it had cost a fortune.

I opened it and looked at her driver's license. She was listed as Ginger Armstrong. Thinking of fakes, I slid it out of its plastic slip and examined it closely. It looked real enough to me. There were also numerous credit cards in her name, some with photos, a voter registration card, and some pictures, including one with her and Steven Armstrong standing together on a ski slope, their arms around each other and grinning like idiots at the camera.

I put everything back and slid it across to her. She put it away and waited expectantly.

"That proves your name is Armstrong. It doesn't mean you're his sister, though. You could be his wife or ex-wife yourself." I kept my voice non-accusatory. "After Alison, how could I know?"

She nodded. "I could be, but I'm not. You're smart to question. 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.' Any of Steven's yachting friends can at the very least confirm I'm not his wife or ex-wife and I'm sure most of them have either met me or heard of me through him. All I ask is that you do the Ronald Reagan thing. 'Trust, but verify.'"

I slowly nodded. "I think I can do that. You said you were both outcasts. Why is that?"

She laughed briefly. "Him because he was generally an ass. Me because I rent my body."

I blinked while I absorbed the implications of that. "You're a prostitute?" I asked in surprise.

She shook her head. "I prefer high-end escort but it's all semantics. I make a very good living at it."

"Why do you degrade yourself like that?"

Prostitution was legal in the state of Nevada. Four of the counties passed laws against it, including ours, but I wasn't sure how aggressive the enforcement might be. 

"I don't see it as degrading," she said with a grin. "I love sex. Really, I love sex a lot. I've often wondered if I might be one of those mythical nymphomaniacs guys always wonder about. I figured out young that I should do what I love. Selling sex, leasing myself if you will, has put a lot of money in my bank account since I turned eighteen. I don't come cheap, if you'll forgive the double entendre."

"Where do you, um, work? Here in Angel's Point?"

She shook her head. "Mostly I work down in Stateline, though I have some good clients up this way. Though now that Steven is gone I might move into his place and set up shop here."

"I hate to point it out, but county law makes it a crime both here and in Stateline. Aren't you worried about going to jail?"

Her grin was wide and tall. "Nope. I sign up for the performance of things like massage or erotic dancing at the client's home or my office. If the client wants more he has to explicitly ask for the service. I never mention it. That would taint any arrest with entrapment. Besides, my clients are either known to me or recommended through someone who is."

I shrugged. What business was it of mine anyway? "Okay. That's really not my business anyway. Are you always so outspoken about it?"

She shook her head. "No, but I need your trust so I'm laying all my cards on the table. Don't worry about me." Her eyes focused past my shoulder. "Actually, here comes someone who can verify exactly how I'm related to Steven. A local you probably know."

I twisted in my chair and looked back at the main entrance to the dining room. Walking through arm-in-arm, were Dora and Calvin Fletcher.



A Touch of Death Ch. 07



I'd rather have avoided being seen by the demonic duo, but Ginger, alas, had other ideas. She half-stood and waved at them. 

"Crap," I hissed. "Did you have to do that?"

Dora's face clouded and she started stalking across the dining room toward our table. Calvin followed her at a slower pace. My fight or flight system began clamoring for me to get up and start swinging but I over-ruled it and schooled my face. I would not sink to her level on her turf. 

She stopped a few feet short and planted her hands on her hips. "Well, well," she sneered. "Look what we have here. Coming to see how the better half lives, Kane? Just needed to see Calvin one more time? You need to stop mooning over him. He's mine now." 

"You have a better half?" I responded coolly. "And as for Calvin, I think he's perfect right where he is." 

Dora's eyes sparked with hate. "I don't have to put up with this crap in my place from a pathetic loser like you." Her eyes flicked to Ginger. "Or your whore friend." Leave it to Dora to dive under the gutter. 

"Dora!" Calvin snapped. "Apologize this instant!" 

Dora turned and stared at him with the same look of open-mouthed astonishment as I was no doubt wearing. 

"Miss Armstrong," he said as he stepped in front of Dora and actually bowed. "I'm so sorry for the terrible accident that happened to your brother. Please accept the condolences of all of us here at Tahoe Inn." 

He didn't spare one glance at me but that didn't surprise me. 

Ginger ignored Dora and smiled sadly at Calvin. "Thank you. I appreciate you thinking of me. I was wondering if the police are done with my brother's room. I'd like to take possession of his things as soon as possible. 

He nodded earnestly. "They wrapped up this morning so you can pick up the key at the front desk when you're ready. Take all the time you need." He turned to Dora. "I realize this has put a strain on everyone, dear, but that's no excuse. Miss Armstrong is still waiting for your apology, Dora." Dora's open mouth slammed shut and she glared at her husband. 

It suddenly hit me why he was crawling. Calvin couldn't care less who Dora insulted. He normally lived for the divisiveness she caused. The difference was Ginger could sue the pants off him for wrongful death. His insurance would pay but the hit his premiums would take wouldn't be pretty. Ironically, he'd have been better off steering the investigation away from a ruling of accidental death. Too bad for them they automatically took the opposing view from me. 

Ginger turned her attention to Dora. She neither smiled nor frowned. Her control astounded me. "I fully understand the strain everyone is under. Today has been the worst day of my life. I'm only just now starting to think of what steps I need to take to fully understand what happened." 

Calvin swallowed and glared back at his wife. "Apologize to the woman, Dora." 

"And to Miss Kane," Ginger added coolly.

"But she-" Dora protested. 

"Dora!" he growled. 

"Let it be, then," Ginger said with a sigh and a shake of her head. "I won't force an apology from anyone who doesn't mean it." She rose to her feet and picked up her purse as Calvin paled. 

"Wait!" he stammered. "We just need a moment." 

"I'm having some people look into my brother's death," she said, ignoring his protest. "I need to know what was happening the day he died. I want your assurance that they won't be impeded." She shifted her gaze to the furious Dora. "Assurances from both of you." 

She skewered Calvin with a cold stare before either he or Dora could respond. "I want them to have full access to anyone they want to speak to. If I'm satisfied that there was no negligence on your part I won't contact my lawyer." She smiled sweetly at Calvin. "That won't be necessary, will it?" Ginger asked, her gaze moving between them coolly.

Calvin shook his head. "Everyone will cooperate fully with whomever you send." 

Dora nodded mutely. That drew Ginger's gaze to her. 

"Just to avoid misunderstandings, I'd like to make sure that you agree fully with your husband, Mrs. Fletcher. Will anyone I send have full, unimpeded access to anything and anyone here?" 

"Fine," Dora spat. "Whoever you send will have whatever they want but I don't have to like it." 

"Excellent," Ginger said cheerfully. "I knew we could all be reasonable." Her eyes swept back to Calvin. "The two of you have a good dinner." 

Calvin didn't give Dora a chance to object. He virtually dragged her away, her eyes shooting daggers back at the two of us. She only dismissed us when they arrived at their table. Damien Manchester and a pallid, mouse-haired woman were just seating themselves. Probably his distraught wife, Elsa. Damien smiled at me and gave me a small salute before he focused his attention on Calvin and Dora. His companion only glanced at us listlessly for a moment. 

"Are you going to help me?" Ginger asked, distracting me. 

I turned my back on the Fletchers and looked at Ginger in confusion. "Help you what?" 

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "Why, look into Steven's death. I'd like your help." 

I could feel my eyebrows drawing together. "Me? I'm no private eye. You need a professional." 

"What I need," she said, gently leading me toward the door by my elbow, "is someone that looks beyond the surface. You're already asking questions. Let's work together. Trust me. In my line of work, you get a knack for sizing up someone's character pretty quick. I need you." 

"Hold up," I said, digging in my purse. "I need to pay for dinner." 

"My treat," Ginger said. "It's the least I can do. We'll talk about more later." She waved her hand at the maitre d' and pointed at my table then herself. The man nodded his understanding at once. She guided me into the lobby before I could balk. 

"I don't need compensation. I'm doing this because I have to know." 

"Then I won't fight you about it," she said with a smile. "I'll just do what I want without asking you." 

I rolled my eyes and followed her to the front desk. She asked for, and received, Steven Armstrong's room key. I might as well get with the program. After all, I had a few interesting questions to ask Dora about Steve. Like, if they were lovers. Not that I expected her to tell me the truth. Putting her on the hot seat was its own reward. 

Five minutes later, we were standing inside Armstrong's room. It had the all the amenities: bed, dresser, extensive bathroom. What it lacked was any soul. I could've been standing in any room in any major hotel chain. Any room, anywhere. This was Lake Tahoe. We could do better. Kane Lodge definitely did better.

Ginger looked into the closet, pulled out a couple of suitcases, and opened them on the neatly made bed. "We can look at everything up here as we pack it into the suitcases. I'd rather not leave anything for later." 

I nodded and we got to work. Armstrong had a few things on hangers in the closet but he had folded most of his clothes and put them into the dressers. He seemed to have two styles. Colorful casual and stylishly suave. 

The only item of real interest to me in the room was a three-ring binder with information on the S.S. Tahoe. It had pictures, both old ones sailing the lake and shots of the sunken hull. It looked surprisingly intact. 

I left Ginger to finish scouring the room and sat down at the desk to look the binder over. There were a number of written stories about the four scuba dives down to it. Apparently, because of the altitude of the Tahoe basin and the roughly four hundred-foot depth the hull was laying at, the dives were difficult, dangerous, and brief. 

There was a hand-drawn diagram of the ship with what looked like points to mount cables to raise the ship. There was a fair bit of math that didn't mean anything to me, as well. A hand-written note at the bottom raised the possibility of using the deep-diving equipment to raise the S.S. Meteor from the deep end of the lake, too, if they could locate it. It dismissed looking for the S.S. Nevada because its last captain had burned it before sinking it. 

There were extensive notes on rehabilitating the S.S. Tahoe and making her into a floating museum. Not only were an incredible amount of ideas on how to restore the ship crammed into just a few pages, but he had filled the margins with more hand written thoughts. It was obvious that Armstrong had filled the margins with more hand written thoughts on how to best restore the ship to the point there was hardly any white space left. He'd obviously been fired up about this project. 

Behind those were several document protectors with a number of letters condemning and praising the project. Right up front was a letter from the family that had owned, and sunk, the ship, giving Armstrong their blessing to raise the vessel. I suppose that wasn't technically required since they abandoned it, but it still made it crystal clear that he had the moral as well as legal authority to carry out his salvage project. 

The letters against it were all from the maybe-environmentalist, Jake Wallace. I frowned. The Sheriff's Department should've taken these. They might be evidence. I shook my head. What was I thinking? They thought this was an accident. They probably didn't even get this far. 

The protest letters started out pretty tame but they rapidly degenerated into name-calling and not-so-veiled threats unless Armstrong abandoned the project. 

I read each one carefully. While most of the vague references to damage that might occur were to ships and equipment, some of them might be shoehorned into personal threats at Armstrong himself. I found myself riveted by the warning to be careful about slips and trips on the lake that concluded the last letter. A letter dated the day before Armstrong died. 

If Wallace had done the deed, he was an idiot. What kind of mental defective threatens someone in a letter with his or her own name on it before killing someone? Was he that stupid? 

Maybe.

Jake Wallace hadn't struck me as a genius the one time I'd met him. True, he seemed surprised when I told him that Armstrong had died. However, he sure hauled ass right away. That seemed guilty enough for a murderer to me 

Behind the letters was a background check on Jake Wallace. So Armstrong felt concerned enough to have someone check him out. Too bad he had never called the Sheriff's Department to complain about the threats. It might've saved his life. 

It seemed Jake wasn't a local. Up until two years ago, he'd lived in Los Angeles. In several different areas in five years. There was a copy of his arrest record. I wasn't sure it was legal for a private citizen to get that but money talks, I suppose. It looked like Jake had a fine appreciation for recreational pharmaceuticals. Half a dozen arrests for being picked up with various drugs. Mostly pot but a few names I recognized from the news. He'd served time for two of the arrests, getting out the last time just before he moved to Lake Tahoe. 

He'd set up the 'Save Tahoe Basin' organization less than six months ago. According to the report, the only member of the organization was Wallace and its only cause was stopping the recovery of the S.S. Tahoe. 

Whoever wrote the report seemed to be at a loss of how Wallace had supported himself during the intervening eighteen months before he'd started pulling a salary from the non-profit he'd formed. Or even how the non-profit was funded in the first place. Perhaps with gold nuggets? Curiouser and curiouser. Where did he get such a big honking gold nugget in the first place? Were there more? Had he used them to finance his new cause? What did he hope to accomplish? 

I made a mental note to download all the pictures I'd snapped on my cell phone in Jake's office. Maybe something about that map of Lake Tahoe would make more sense with the information I had now. 

Ginger was sitting on the bed watching me when I closed the binder. "All done. Did you find something interesting?" 

I filled her in on the contents of the binder. After a brief hesitation, I told her about the nugget. 

"Could this somehow be about finding more gold?" I asked her. "I don't see how raising the S.S. Tahoe could have anything to do with it, and it isn't mentioned anywhere in that binder, but gold makes people do funny things." 

She shook her head. "I can't believe that. Steven had plenty of money. The company he owns is worth tens of millions of dollars all by itself. Besides, after hearing him drone on for hours about what he would do to restore the ship I just can't believe it. He would've said something." 

"What about his partner, Damien Manchester?" 

"That sounds even more outlandish. Damien must be three or four times as wealthy as Steven." She shook her head. "I just can't see Damien getting hot and bothered about some gold. If he wants some, he'd just buy it." 

I wasn't quite so ready to give up on the idea but I wouldn't gain anything by arguing with her about it. I closed the binder and stood up. 

"I'm going to take this with me, if you don't mind. I want to go over it again and see if anything pops out." 

She nodded. "Sure. I'll want it back later but keep it as long as you need to. If you do find anything, I want to know about it, day or night. Do you really think this Wallace fellow killed Steven?" 

I shrugged. "He sure looks like a good possibility but I won't know till I look at everyone connected to your brother. Any of them might have a hidden reason." 

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "Even me?" 

"Well, the police look at family in murders for a reason I suppose. I hope you're not offended but I imagine you're standing to inherit quite a sum from your brother." Not that it would stop me if she were. 

"Check away, then," she said with a smile. She grabbed the two suitcases by the handles. "I'd hardly have asked you to look into it if I had killed Steven. Especially since the police seem to be going out of their way to make his death an accident. To get away with it, it seems like my best bet would be to do nothing." 

Well, that certainly was true. 

I took one of the suitcases and helped her to carry it to her car. Thankfully, we didn't see Calvin or Dora on the way out. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to piss them off. Again. 

Ginger was driving a cherry red little sports car that looked like a roller skate. It was so small that it looked like even tiny little me might have trouble fitting in behind the steering wheel. The two suitcases fit into the trunk. Barely. And she fit behind the steering wheel, though it was an even tighter fit. If the thing had an airbag and she ever had an accident... 

It was even more unsuitable for Lake Tahoe winters than Ty's car. Still, I ran my hand down its fender and wondered how cool it would be to own a car like it."

"I'll ask some questions of my own," she said as she slipped on a pair of sunglasses, "and catch you at the Lodge sometime tomorrow. Okay?" She smiled. "And, if you like, you can take her for a spin." 

I grinned with embarrassment but I didn't turn down her offer either. "See you sometime in the afternoon. Call ahead and I'll make sure the front desk knows where I am." 

With a jaunty salute, she started the car with a roar that sounded too large for it and zipped off. It sure could corner. 

I unlocked my too-plain car and set the binder on the passenger seat. I was about to climb in when I noticed someone watching me from inside a nearby car. I couldn't make out who it was with the sunlight reflecting from the windshield so I waved on general principles. In my line of work you learned to be friendly to everyone you could possibly stand. 

It was only when that seemed to startle my admirer into revving his engine and taking off that I took a closer look. When he pulled out of the parking lot, I had a good, if quick, view of his obviously frightened face. 

Jake Wallace. 

* * * * * 

By the time I took off after him, he was gone. I drove around the area for a few minutes but it was already getting dark and I couldn't find any trace of him. With a sigh of frustration, I headed back to the Lodge. I'd seen and heard a lot today and I needed to make some notes and think about what I needed to do next. 

That plan lasted until I parked in the Lodge parking area and shut off my motor. I hadn't even had a chance to unbuckle my seatbelt when I saw my mother sneak out the side door and duck into her SUV. She was definitely sneaking since she kept glancing around furtively. 

I ducked below the dash and waited for a count of ten before I raised my head enough to see. She was just backing out of her parking spot. I let her get on the road before I started my car and pulled out behind her. For the second time in a half hour, I was trying to tail someone. Hopefully I'd have better luck the second time. 

I really had no business spying on her, but she was acting so oddly I couldn't help myself. Maybe she was off to see her secret lover. I felt a thrill of excitement course through me. He would be worth knowing about, even if I never told a soul. That being the case, I couldn't chance her knowing I even had a clue, so I dropped a little further back. 

She headed north on the highway that hugged the Lake Tahoe shoreline. There weren't many towns along this way of any size until you got to the top of the lake. Up there were some ritzy towns that catered to the ski crowd. I wondered if he was a wealthy tourist. Maybe she was having a wild affair. Or maybe she was heading for someone's house along the way. 

I should've bet on the long drive. It took an hour but she drove all the way to Crystal Bay-Incline Village, along the north shore of Lake Tahoe on the Nevada side. The sun had set and the temperature was beginning to creep downward when she pulled into the Hyatt parking lot. Thank goodness I had my jacket with me. 

She jumped out of her SUV and walked quickly toward the main entrance. There was a young man standing there but I didn't pay him much attention. He was far too young to be waiting for my mother. Her 'date' must be inside. 

Boy was I wrong. 

Before I could understand what was happening, the two of them were in each other's arms, kissing. My brain tried to process what I was seeing but it just didn't compute. 

"If you leave the door open, the overhead light and dinging noise will give you away," a deep voice said from right outside my open car door. 

I squeaked and whipped around in my seat. Standing there holding my door handle was Ty Walker. His grin was both engaging and smug. I scowled at him and yanked the door closed. A glance at the hotel entrance showed my mother hadn't noticed anything. If they had changed position, it wasn't apparent to me. I rolled down the driver's side window. 

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack," I hissed. "And what the hell are you doing following me around?" 

His eyebrows rose and his grin widened. "Well, you were following your Mom so I thought I'd follow you. Why are you tailing your mother?" 

Another glance revealed her walking into the Hyatt arm in arm with the man. The short look I had of him while he was in the light convinced me he was young. About my age. Maybe younger. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be outraged or not. I knew some women dated younger men, but this was my mother! It looked like I had one more thing to think about. Whatever I did, I could not screw this up. 

Ty took my discombobulation in stride, opened the car door, and bowed low with his free arm sweeping to the side. My glare didn't faze him at all. "They look dressed for dinner so if you're wanting to tail her home, assuming she goes home, we're in for a wait. Want to walk with me on the beach?" 

I got out of the car and huffed, mildly offended. "Of course she's going home." 




A Touch of Death Ch. 07



Ty looked back at the Hyatt, his gaze measuring. "I don't know. They looked very friendly. I take it you don't know the guy she's... seeing?" 

I flushed at the thought of what he really meant to say. The young guy she was boinking. The young guy who was as young as her kids were. I shook my head. I needed to get my head around this fast because when Frank found out Mom would need me firmly in her corner. 

"What a... polite way to phrase that," I finally offered. "I'm not going to follow her anywhere. She's an adult and she can come and go as she pleases." 

His grin came back full force. "And I'm sure she will. Going and... coming." 

I swatted his arm and laughed. "Stop making sex jokes about my mother or I won't walk with you on the beach. Can't you see how unsettled I am?" 

"We wouldn't want that, now would we?" he said lightly. "This way, milady." 

I slipped on my jacket to ward off the chill, locked my car, and took his arm in mine, allowing him to lead me through the Hyatt complex to the beach. The lake shore was about a couple of hundred yards from the main hotel building so I had quite a bit of time to get used to Ty walking arm-in-arm with me. It was... nice. Parts of me were waking up and calling for attention, letting me know that there was a handsome man in my personal space. 

The beach proper was as nice as the one in Angel's Point. Wide and clean, it swept off into the darkness to the right and left. The area directly beside the hotel complex was partially shielded by trees and had an air of seclusion about it. Technically, since we weren't guests, we shouldn't be on their private beach but I didn't think they'd fuss too loudly if they caught us. I did a fair amount of swapping guests around the lake with all the major hotels and more than a few of the minor ones. That built good working relationships. 

There was some kind of private party in progress about fifty yards to the west of us. Twenty or thirty people seemed to be having a clambake. Music was playing at a considerable volume for a boom box on an ice chest near the fire and several older couples were dancing on the sand to some kind of slow swing music. 

The romantic aspects of a walk in the dark with hunky Ty, swaying slowly to a swing beat made my insides go all soft and warm. 

I smiled at him and saw he was looking at me appraisingly. Wordlessly, I gestured toward the party and took a half step toward it, expecting him to follow me. 

Instead, he pulled me back toward him, slipping his arms around me. Before my conscious mind could speak up, my body molded against his and my hands sought for and found that fabulous looking butt of his. 

I started to say something witty but his mouth swooped down and covered mine, hot and hungry. My warm insides suddenly burst into incandescent flame. The curiosity became a burning, primal need. It was so intense I thought I heard the explosion of fireworks going off behind me. 

With a twist of his legs, Ty fell backwards and brought me down on top of him in the sand. I hardly had time to smile before he rolled on top of me. That was just fine with me. The only problem was he'd stopped kissing me. 

He'd started digging at the back of his pants, making me wonder what the hell he was doing, when there was another explosion. The wooden back of a chair next to us splintered along one side. Ty brought his hand back around and it was holding his pistol. Then I realized what was happening; someone was shooting at us. 

I was amazed I wasn't screaming. Well, I probably made some noise but I wasn't screaming like a little girl. Someone up the beach from us was doing just that. I tried to wriggle out from under Ty but he kept me pinned to the ground with his body as he pointed both his gun and his eyes at the tree line. 

Another shot came from the trees and Ty grunted. Then his gun went off like a refinery explosion, deafening and blinding me. I did scream then. 

"Stay down," Ty said in an impossibly calm voice. A voice as cold as death. "Do. Not. Move." With the ringing in my ears, I was surprised I could understand him at all. 

In a flash, he was on his feet and running toward the gunman, firing. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I should be digging in or something but I couldn't seem to make myself move. Ty found his stride after stumbling and bolted into the trees. 

I waited for more shots but none came. A man ducked behind the chair the gunman had shot and called to me. 

"Are you okay?" He sounded scared and I had to admit he had good reason. I tried to answer him but I couldn't seem to form words. 

He put a cell phone I hadn't seen to his ear. "There's one woman hurt, operator. I think she's been shot. Her neck is bleeding." 

I gaped at him as he started ripping off his shirt. Shot? I didn't feel shot. I clutched my hand to my throat and felt something wet and sticky. I raised my hand and stared at the blood smeared across my palm with rising shock and panic.

Blood. 



A Touch of Death Ch. 08



The man dropped to his knees beside me and held up his car keys. That confused me until a white light shot out of it and blinded me. He tilted my head from one side to the other.

"I don't see a wound, operator." he said with more than a little panic in his voice. "What do I do?"

He listened to the answer and leaned over me. "Miss? Where are you hurt?"

I ran through my body parts. Other than some minor aches from being crushed under Ty I didn't feel hurt.

"I..." I swallowed heavily. My mouth was as dry as cotton. "I don't feel shot."

He passed that back to the 911 operator before running the light up and down my body. "I don't see any more blood. Under the light there isn't even that much on her neck."

I struggled to a sitting position and tried to think. If it wasn't my blood... A blast of adrenaline shot through me. "Ty! Ohmigod! Ty's shot!" I grabbed the man's arm. "You have to help me find my friend!"

"Just lay back down," he said soothingly. "The police are on the way. They'll find your friend."

"Screw that," I snarled, making him recoil. "Ty could be dying."

I struggled to my feet and ignored his startled squawking. He tried to block me but I scrambled around him. The shock was gone and I could move again.

"Tyrone Walker, you better answer me," I shouted.

"Keep your panties on," his voice called tiredly back from the trees. "I'm coming."

The lighting was good enough for me to see him walking slowly out of the trees in front of me. He was moving slowly but he was moving under his own power.

I ran around the confounded rescuer and beat feet to Ty's side.

"Are you hurt?" I asked anxiously. "Are you shot?" My eyes devoured him, searching for blood in the gloom.

He gestured at his left shoulder. "Just a scratch. I'm fine. Whoever it was got away," he said, his voice dripping disappointment.

I grabbed his right arm and pulled him quickly to a seat. "Sit down and let me look at your shoulder." My heart was thundering in my chest as I fumbled at the buttons on his shirt. "Light. Bring that light over here," I called out to the Good Samaritan.

"Here," the man said, holding it out to me.

"Point it at his shoulder," I said. "Thank you for coming to help me. It was very brave."

His cell phone chittered at him and he yanked it back to his ear and started bringing the operator up to speed.

Under the light I could see Ty's left sleeve was soaked with blood. I was afraid to touch it. Afraid I might hurt him worse.

He chuckled darkly and slid the sleeve down with a hiss of pain. The wound was more than a scratch but better than I'd feared. It was a cut, almost a groove, on the outside of his arm. A cut that was still bleeding sluggishly.

I ran to where I'd dropped my purse and brought it back at a run. Carelessly, I dumped the contents on the ground and found what I was looking for; a sanitary pad I kept on hand for emergencies. With an apologetic smile, I ripped it open and pressed it over the wound.

"Sorry, it's all I have."

He shook his head and smiled a little more widely. "I've carried them into combat myself. Sterile and easily available. Who could ask for more?"

The rest of the beach-goers had regained enough courage to join their braver companion. They surrounded us and talked to each other loudly, wondering what had happened. I'm sure they were talking to me, too, but I ignored them to focus on Ty. That's probably how I missed the arrival of trouble's second wave.

She probably got all the information she needed under the cover of the chatter all around me because the first I knew of my mother's presence was when she appeared at my side.

"Fancy meeting you all the way up here," she said calmly as she twisted the top off a water bottle and soaked a handkerchief.

I slumped a little. "Crap. I'm busted."

With smooth, quick strokes she cleaned my neck. "Thank God. None of this is yours. You're okay." Her eyes glittered with tears of relief.

"I'm afraid that's mine, Linda," Ty said. "I think I kept Candy safe."

Mom's gaze became cool and serious and she considered both of us. "I've picked up enough to know there was gun play. You two were following me and someone shot at my little girl. You both have some serious explaining to do, if the police don't arrest you both."

"It's my fault," I said. "Ty was following me. I was the one following you."

"And someone followed him to shoot at you?" she asked. "This is getting a little complex for me. Rest assured, we are all going to sit down and have a conversation about this as soon as Ty sees someone about this." She focused on Ty. "Is it bad?"

He shook his head. "It hurt worse when I got my tattoo."

I frowned at him. "You don't have a tattoo."

He grinned at me. "You just haven't looked in enough places yet."

I flushed when I realized the only available locations left to search. That only made him grin, the rat.

The crowd was starting to thin out, being cleared by Hyatt security. The flashing lights of one police car, quickly followed by two more, appeared on the other side of the bridge leading back to the Hyatt complex. My mother refused to leave my side. Her dinner companion filtered out of the dispersing crowd to stand beside her, as well.

He wasn't only young, he was quite a bit younger than I'd thought. I pegged him at about twenty-five but the light here still wasn't the best. Tall and trim, he had a handsome face that was filled with concern. He nodded at me but didn't speak.

Then the police were there and demanding answers.

* * * * *

The next few hours involved me telling several different cops what the hell happened. After several repetitions, the cover story sounded almost natural. Ty was questioned separately while the EMTs treated him. It was interrupted when they hauled him off to the hospital. Since I insisted on going to, they had to question me on the move.

Detective Sergeant Davy September drove me in his car while my mother and her as yet unnamed lover followed us. Unlike the other cops I'd told the story to, he wasn't shy about sharing his opinion of my intelligence with me.

"Have you lost your mind?" he snarled. "I don't care if the Sheriff and all his merry men think that guy's death was an accident. Even if it had been, painting a big target all over yourself like this is retarded."

"That's not very politically correct," I said dryly.

"Screw political correctness," he said succinctly. "You've stirred a hornet's nest now. Unless your boyfriend has pissed off someone recently, you've motivated a killer to try and silence you."

"I don't get it, though. He or she went to all the trouble of making Armstrong's death look like an accident. Why throw that away when it's only me making waves? Shooting at me is just going to make the police look at everything again."

September shrugged. "Panic. Stupidity. Who knows? That still doesn't make you look like a MENSA candidate. If I could, I'd toss you into the jail for a few days while things cooled off."

I rolled my eyes. "If I didn't ask questions, then who was going to? A man was murdered."

"While it certainly looks like that might be the case," he admitted," it's still not a certainty. Even if it is, you have to balance the risk against the gain. Someone could have killed both you and your boyfriend. It's better in my mind for a murder to go unsolved than for one more innocent person die to find a killer."

"He's not my boyfriend and cops put themselves at risk all the time. I did what I had to do."

I could almost see him mentally counting to ten. "I get paid to put my neck on the block. It's my job, not yours. And you didn't deny Mister Studly was your boyfriend the first time I said it so I'm afraid you're over-ruled."

He pulled into the hospital parking lot. "Look, I can't make you keep your head down but I'm begging you. Stop asking these questions. Find some place out of the way and stay there. Give the Sheriff's Department a week to look into this. I swear to God that we'll be pushing them hard from this end."

He brought his car up to the emergency entrance and I popped my door open. "Now that the police are looking back at Steven Armstrong's death, I don't have any reason to keep poking my head in where it doesn't belong. I'll behave."

His facial expression as I closed the door told me he doubted that very seriously. I put that out of mind and rushed inside. Ty was nowhere to be seen and an inquiry told me he was already being seen. My best effort to join him was unsuccessful so I sat down in the crowded waiting room in a huff. That fit the mood of the rest of the would-be patients and family perfectly.

I hadn't even had a chance to settle in when Mom and her fellow walked in. She spotted me right away and they angled through the rows of chairs to my side.

"Have they taken him in?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Then let's go to the cafeteria and talk." She spared a glance at all the people around us, some of whom were listening to her. "We can get something to eat, too. Dinner hadn't made it to the table when we heard the shots."

I shook my head. "I need to wait here. What if I'm gone when he comes out?"

"I'll wait for him," Mom's squeeze said. His voice was deeper than I'd have guessed. "You two go eat and talk. Just bring me back a sandwich and soda when you're done. If your friend gets out before you get back I'll call your cell, Linda."

"Thank you," she told him. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Since you're so insistent, this is Josh Cavanaugh. Josh, my daughter Candy."

Josh nodded and smiled at me. "I've heard good things about you. Your Mom's very proud of you."

I couldn't stop the spurt of laughter from escaping. "I wish she'd shared all the juicy details about you." I stood up and took Mom's arm. "I intend to see that rectified right now. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Josh. Thank you for waiting for Ty."

Josh grinned and sat down in the seat I'd just vacated. "That's fair. I'll get my revenge by asking your friend all about the two of you."

"Why does everyone assume we're a couple?" I groused.

"I can't imagine," my mother said dryly. "Come on. We have a lot to catch up on."

The hospital cafeteria turned out to be closed, so we found a quiet corner in the chapel and sat down beside each other.

"I'm sorry I followed you," I said. "If you wanted me to know you were seeing someone, you'd have told me."

"You should be sorry," she scolded me before sighing. "And I shouldn't be sneaking around either. If I'm scared of my own family finding out I'm doing something then I probably shouldn't be doing it."

I held up a hand. "Whoa. Let's not get carried away. You can date anyone you like. Josh seems like a fine young man."

"Young being the kicker, eh?" Mom rubbed her eyes. "I never planned on getting involved with someone so young. It just kind of happened."

"So he's young. So what?" I asked forcefully. "You're both over twenty-one and can sleep with whoever you like." God, please let him be over twenty-one.

Mom laughed. "You should see your face. Yes, he's over twenty-one. Barely." She laughed at me again. "Stop it! He'll be twenty-seven next month."

I took her hand in mine. "Even if he was that young, the rest of us can just deal with it. Your happiness is all I want."

"It was you this morning, wasn't it?"

I blinked at her. "What?"

"In my living room. Josh was sure he heard someone out there. It was you."

I nodded. "I left my purse and just slipped in to pick it up. I swear, if I'd known..."

She nodded. "It's okay. Now you know. As long as my family approves, that's all I really care about."

"So..." I suppressed a grin. "That means you'll be telling Frank you're sleeping with someone two years younger than him?"

"Do I have to?" she asked plaintively. "He's going to have a cow. Will you sit with me when I tell him?"

"Of course I will. How did you two meet? I hate to admit it, but I was scared you might not see anyone else after Dad died."

She blushed. "I almost didn't. I'd rather not go into the details too deeply. Let's just say that he found me in my cups at a bar."

My eyes widened. "I had no idea you were going out to bars. You should've told me. I'd have gone with you."

"Wouldn't that help me pick up guys?" she asked wryly. "I think not. No, I was sitting off by myself in a dim corner wondering what the hell I was doing when he slipped into the booth with me. He didn't trot out any pickup lines. He introduced himself and just talked. One thing led to another and here I am, involved with a man half my age."

"That must have its... perks."

She laughed and swatted my arm. "Don't mock my perverted sex life. I never pictured myself as one of those women with a younger man on her arm and in her bed." She smiled slyly. "But, oh, the stamina of youth."

We laughed together for a moment. My brother was going to freak, but I'd sit on him if he made a fool out of himself. I hadn't seen Mom so happy since Dad's heart attack. I'd be damned if I'd let anyone upset this applecart.

"Why don't you let me handle Frank?" I asked. "I think I can ease him into the concept gently. Then you can talk with him."

She squeezed my hands. "Would you? That would be wonderful."

"Consider it done," I said with a confident smile. He'd either accept it gracefully or I'd dump him in the lake. "Are you ready to go back?"

She pulled back a little and shook her head. "Not quite yet. I want to know about you and your new squeeze."

My neck flushed and my insides warmed in an interesting way. "We're not a couple. At least not yet. We might be heading that way."

"Someone said you were making out on the beach before... you know. That sounds like more than a friendly handshake. And you were almost falling out of your clothes when you showed up at the lodge with him."

"It isn't like it looks," I said a little guiltily. "That kiss tonight was the first time he's touched me like that. Besides, I thought you disapproved of him."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Whatever gave you that idea? He seems like a good man and he's hot."

"Back in high school-" I started.

"Oh my God," she interrupted. "That was a dozen years ago. I have different standards for my teenage daughter. Besides, he's matured. Some of those bad boy edges have smoothed off. He took a bullet for you!"

I nodded uncomfortably. I was still worried and scared about how he was doing. This could have turned out so much worse. It still could if I didn't see it done quickly.

Her eyes narrowed at my expression. "And don't think we're done with the rest of this. I'm not happy with you parading around trying to draw out a killer! We will be talking."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said contritely. "But not now."

She pulled me to my feet. "Later. For now, let's go see how your hero is and get the hell out of here."

* * * * *

They wheeled Ty out half an hour after we got back. Josh had time to go hunt up something for us to snack on while we waited. The nurse turned him over to our care and we started out to where the car was parked, Josh wheeling Ty and my Mom and I on either side.

He looked tired and in pain. Someone had given him a tee shirt that was tight enough to shock me with a shiver of lust.

"Are you okay?" I asked, astonished at the steadiness of my voice.

His grin tried to overcome his pain. "All this chasing you around has given me a mighty hunger."

"We need to get some food into you and put you to bed," I said. "Someplace that we don't have to worry about people shooting at us."

"I have the perfect place," my mother said. I turned to her with one eyebrow cocked. "Josh and I just... happen to have adjoining rooms at the Hyatt." She smiled at Josh. "I'm sure it wouldn't be any trouble to let the two of you share one of them."

My mouth dropped open. Never mind that my mother was trying to shuffle Ty and me off together for the night. We'd been shot at on the beach there just a couple of hours ago!

She waved off my objection before I could say anything. "It makes perfect sense," she said. "That's the one place no one would expect you to go back to tonight."

"No one in their right mind," I muttered.

Ty scratched his chin thoughtfully. "That's actually a pretty good misdirection. When someone is shooting at you, you want to pop up in the last place they expect you." He raised an eyebrow at me. "I promise to be a gentleman."

Right. Like I was worried about his control right now. The idea of being alone with Ty made me damp with suppressed desire. Take a deep breath. He's hurt.

"Sure," I said in my best offhand voice. "Besides, that's where our cars are parked."

"That's a minus, really," Ty said, "but if we slip in and don't go near the cars tonight we should be fine."

Josh stopped at the driveway and brought the car around. Ty sat in the back with me and directed Josh on taking a roundabout drive through the area while he watched behind us. After half a mile he pronounced himself satisfied that we weren't being tailed and we slipped back to the Hyatt with no sign of anyone waiting for us.

Ty was leaning on Josh by the time we made it to the room Mom wouldn't be needing tonight. Josh walked him right to an easy chair and settled him in.

"Order something from room service," Mom said as she led Josh to the door. "If you need anything pound on the door to our room or call."

I hugged her close. "Thank you."

"We'll talk tomorrow," she promised before almost yanking Josh out the door.

After making sure the door was locked, I sat down on the arm of the easy chair and looked at Ty. Whatever they'd given him for pain looked like it was wearing off.

"I'm sorry for what happened on the beach," I said.

"For kissing me?"

I barely stopped myself from swatting him. "No! For getting you shot."

"Good. I'm glad this experience hasn't warped your perspective."

I rolled my eyes. "You're incorrigible. And you're hurt, so no kissing for you tonight. What do you want from room service?"

His eyes twinkled. "So, kissing tomorrow isn't out of question?"

"You need a cold shower," I assured him. "And so do I."

He shook his head. "I can't get the dressing wet but you knock yourself out. I'll take the chair tonight and you can have the bed."

Sure enough, the room only had one bed. "No, you take the bed and I'll sleep in the chair. You are absolutely not sleeping in this chair tonight."

"Then we have a problem because neither are you."

I growled deep in my throat. "Men! You are so stubborn. Fine, we'll share the bed tonight but no fooling around. Remember, you're supposed to be a gentleman tonight."

"Don Juan," Ty suggested with a brief waggle of his eyebrows.

"Don Juan was a fictional womanizer," I corrected him. "If you want more kissing, you'll behave."

He held his hand up in a Boy Scout salute.

I shook my head and stood up. "I'm going to have that cold shower. Let's get you into bed."

He didn't give me any more trouble. I stripped him of his shoes, socks, and pants before tucking him under the covers.

"Boxers, eh?" I asked with a smile. "I figured you for tighty-whities."

"I'll go commando next time we get shot at."

I laughed and locked myself into the bathroom. I quickly stripped and turned the hot water on me. No matter what I said, there was no way I was taking a cold shower. Brrrr.

When I was done, I considered my sleeping options. My normal option, sleeping in the buff, was right out. The skirt and blouse were a bad call, so it looked like he was going to get me in my intimates. It's not like he hadn't seen me in something skimpier.

But I wasn't going to be snuggled up near him in my swimsuit, was I?

I put my bra and panties back on after a thorough drying and combing my hair out. With a deep breath, I walked back into the bedroom.




A Touch of Death Ch. 08



I hadn't needed to worry after all. Ty was fast asleep. I folded my clothes and set them on the dresser with my purse before taking a few minutes to just stand there and watch him sleep.

It wasn't that his face relaxed into anything resembling innocence, but he did look at peace. Relaxed. Most men never figured it out, but that kind of look was seductive to women.

I took a deep breath and slid under the covers on my side of the bed. A not-so-small part of me regretted how platonic my first night in bed with a man would be after all this time. Hell, let's be honest. All of me regretted it.

The room dropped into a comfortable dimness when I turned the lamp off. There was just enough light for me to lie there watching him in the gloom. I watched him until I couldn't hold my eyes open anymore.



A Touch of Death Ch. 09



I was warm, content. I seemed to be floating on my stomach in a cloud made of sweet smelling flowers. No, not flowers. Something better. More sensual. Cologne?

I smiled to myself. I loved waking up like this. Languidly, I stretched and felt an answering motion from below me. My eyes popped open.

Ty was sprawled beneath me. My face was nestled on his bare chest and my leg was arched across his thighs. He was the wonderful scent.

Jesus, I was plastered all over him.

His arm curled around my waist and his hand rested on the curve of my butt. Extracting myself without waking him was going to be a challenge. I listened to his regular breathing and tried to decide if he was awake.

"Good morning," he said sleepily into my ear.

I raised my head and looked into his smiling eyes. "I don't usually climb all over men I barely know," I assured him.

"Extenuating circumstances," he agreed. "But that might not save you if you move like that again. I'm a gentleman, not a saint." He trailed his fingers down the back of my leg, sending electric sparks up my spine, making my breath catch in my throat.

"That's not playing fair," I complained, shifting my leg. My inner thigh promptly ran into aroused male and I froze. "Oh, boy. Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!"

His smile widened. "We're about ten seconds from having sex. If that doesn't suit you, I suggest you might want to get moving."

Part of me wanted to run for the bathroom right then, but I forced myself to consider his statement. Did I want to have sex with him? The heat low in my belly was quick to assure me I did. Add to the equation the fact that he'd also taken a bullet for me. If any man deserved a good screwing, it was him, and it had been so long.

I took a deep breath and slid fully on top of him, seating his sex against mine with only a few layers of cloth between us. His erection felt impossibly hot as it nestled against me. The need inside me bloomed into full-blown lust. 

He groaned as I rubbed myself against him. His hands settled on my hips, grinding us together. "Candy, I--"

My mouth crushed his, cutting off whatever he had been about to say. At this point, it didn't matter what he said and the last thing I wanted to hear was some self-sacrificing offer to stop if I wanted to. As if.

I'd been fighting this attraction since we'd met back in high school. When we were done having sex, I might go back to fighting it, but in this moment, he was mine and I wasn't willing to hear any more.

Now that I'd made my intent clear, neither was he, apparently. His arms flattened me against his chest and he kissed me back with all the passion I could hope for. He tried to roll me over on my back, but I stopped him with a hand.

Reluctantly, I broke our kiss. "No. I don't want you to pull your stitches. Lay back and let me do the driving."

He relaxed under me and reached behind me, unsnapping my bra with one hand. It was a clever trick, worthy of a Master prestidigitator. His other hand whisked it off my shoulders and tossed it to the floor. His eyes greedily drank in this sight of my bare breasts.

I felt a twinge of worry because, while they were full-sized for my frame, I was a small woman. I'm sure he was used to women with more to show up there. 

He put my concerns to rest by pulling me forward and wrapping his lips around my left nipple. God! His lips shot a bolt of pure heat right down to my sex. Deft nips with his teeth laced that heat with lightning.

Screw the foreplay. I was ready to go right now.

Since he was supporting my weight, I was free to use both hands to slide my now-damp panties off and send them after my bra. Once free of them, I reluctantly pulled back from his attentions. I reached down and fished his cock out of his boxers and fitted it to my sex.

With little sighs and groans, I lowered myself until he was all the way inside me. I took my lower lip between my teeth as I started rocking back and forth. He might not be too long, but he was thicker than any of the men I'd had. I felt like it only barely fit.

He closed his eyes for a moment as I started riding him. "God, Candy! You're so tight. Go slow! I want this to last."

I laughed, low and throaty. "I think the odds are stacked against you holding out for long. Don't come inside me. I'm not on anything."

He winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect us to do anything or I'd have picked up something. If you want to stop..."

"I don't want to stop. Just be a good neighbor and warn me before you come. I promise to clean you up good and give you another round to make up for how quick this will be."

With that, I started riding him in earnest. The sharp thrust of his cock into me every time I came down quickly brought me a small orgasm, making me impale myself on him in a frenzy of need. 

"Jesus. I thought you were going to rip my dick off."

I laughed exultantly and enjoyed the slow drop off the other side, slowing my movements to make him last longer. And to torture him.

His hands urged me to go faster while his bright eyes begged for release. I decided to give it to him. Quickening my pace, I started squeezing my internal muscles tight on every down stroke. He groaned and writhed under me.

"Get off! I'm going to come!"

I quickly jumped off him and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I didn't really like the taste, but he was getting the Full Monty this morning. I hope he didn't want me to try and take more of him into my mouth. I wasn't sure it would fit. 

Two strokes of my fist and the first shot of his come landed on my tongue. I used my hands to control his penetration and slowly milked him dry, swallowing as I went. His groans of pleasure sent fresh waves of need through me as I cleaned him up. It was salty, but not as bad as my last boyfriend.

I didn't resist as he pulled my torso over his face and started pleasuring me. If he wanted to draw out the moment and make me come again, I wasn't going to complain.

My experience with oral sex--both giving and receiving--was limited, but I was sure he knew his way around pussy within just a few seconds. His tongue felt like it was six inches long and I ramped up to a sharp orgasm much faster than I expected. He was eating me alive!

I used my mouth and tongue on him, but I felt uncoordinated and clumsy. I couldn't focus on what I wanted to do to him while he was eating me. One orgasm quickly became two, then three. I ground myself on his face like a shameless animal.

When I finally couldn't take it anymore, I flipped around and started kissing him with all the passion he'd generated in me. Without using my hands, I slid my body until he slid back into me. I didn't move my hips; I just let him throb inside me, until I calmed down.

With long, slow strokes, I pushed him into myself while I kissed him and whispered naughty, dirty things in his ear. Every time I thought he was getting too excited, I stopped moving. I was going to draw this out as long as I possibly could.

He, of course, had different ideas. While I was focused on how wonderful he felt inside me, he rolled me over and onto my back, capturing my wrists in his hands. He looked crazed with lust.

"Your stitches!" I protested.

"Fuck the stitches! I may go insane if I let you keep up this pace. Besides, I think you'll like this better." With that he started powering into me with long, hard strokes.

He was right. This was much better.

My legs wrapped around his torso of their own volition and I let him fuck me fast and deep. I thought I would pass out from the pleasure.

It was a good thing he had good control, because I completely forgot I cared about him coming inside me. I was lost in the heat, coming in waves until I thought I was stuck on "come." The first inkling I had that he was even close was when he pulled out of me and spent himself all over my stomach. 

I idly rubbed it into my skin as he lay down next to me and we kissed. Every muscle in my body was warm and loose. I felt better than I had in a long time. I reveled in the feel of his hard body pressed up against mine until my fingers were just sticky.

"That was terrific," I murmured.

"Not me," he laughed softly. "It was all you. You were wonderful."

With one last kiss, I climbed off the bed. "I don't know if I want this to go any further, Ty. I've never been good with relationships. Let's not rush this. And...thank you."

"Anytime."

I used the bathroom and climbed into the shower while he stayed on the bed. A wash of hot water steamed the frosted glass and cooled the burning need in me to an almost acceptable level. My breathing was almost back under control when he opened the bathroom door and I heard him sit on the toilet.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked, watching his indistinct form through the steamed glass.

"Using the bathroom. Just shower and ignore me," he said, amused. "I promise I'm not watching every move of your soap-slicked body through that glass and thinking of joining you."

"The doctor said to keep your stitches dry!"

"I'll notice that you didn't exactly tell me no," he said dryly. 

"No!"

He finished up his business and I watched his indistinct form saunter out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I smiled in the solitude of the shower. Things were indeed looking up.

* * * * *

There was no sign of movement from my mother's room by the time we were dressed so I slipped a note under her door. Ty watched the parking lot for a while and declared it unlikely that anyone was watching our cars.

By mutual agreement, we decided to do breakfast at the Lodge. We also decided that a stop to change into something fresh before meeting in public would be prudent so I slipped up to my room and changed into some jeans and a pale blue tee shirt. I also acceded to my furry minion's demands and fed Screamer.

I slapped my phone into its charger and had it bulk upload my pictures to my email. I grabbed my laptop to take down to breakfast. Perhaps something would be more obvious to Ty in Wallace's office.

Breakfast was just about done by the time Ty joined me in the dining room. Remembering dinner at the Inn last night, I looked at the decor with a jaundiced eye. Karen, unaware of my impending decision to upset her world, smiled at us knowingly and took our second breakfast order in two days.

"Now that you're awake enough to think, who was shooting at us last night?" I asked over the rim of my coffee cup.

"Not we. You. I haven't offended anyone to the point of murder in the last two days. Still, if nothing else, you've made it clear to me that Armstrong didn't die in an accident. As for who, which of the people you've been harassing have freaked out the most?"

"Jake Wallace," I said without hesitation. "He vanished right after I talked to him that one time. Oh, except for when I spotted him watching me at the Inn. I tried catching up with him but his car disappeared before I could get out of the lot."

Ty nodded thoughtfully. "So, he had the big freaking hunk o' gold, ran like a little girl when you confronted him, and turned up just a few hours before you got shot at? You mentioned him to the police last night, right?"

"I did."

"Then hopefully they'll get the Sheriff's department looking for him, too. You need to go talk to them today. That whack job needs to be picked up before he decides to take another try at you. I'll see if I can come up with a place to stash you until this settles down."

"I'm not letting someone scare me into letting this go."

"You're not scared? You should be. Someone tried to kill you last night. They killed Armstrong and you've scared them enough to kill you. Either you go into hiding or you get an armed guard to keep you safe."

"It was my armed guard that lured me to the beach," I said tartly. I smiled to take any sting out of my comment.

"I have to go see Damien this morning. I don't want you going outside this building until I get back," he said sternly.

The sentiment warmed my soul but I couldn't let him run all over me. "If I do leave, I promise to call and to stay someplace public."

"The beach was public."

"It was also dark," I countered. "Wallace, if it was Wallace, won't be stalking me in public. He wants this to all go away, not spin out of control."

"It's already out of control," he muttered darkly. "I'd handcuff you down but you'd probably like that."

I smiled at him. "No comment."

"Fine," he said. "I'll make this as fast as I can and then come back for you. Did you at least tell the police about the gold?"

I shuddered. "No. That would be a bit... awkward to explain. But, speaking of gold, I uploaded the pictures I took in his office." I gestured to the laptop.

Ty moved to my side of the booth and crowded up against me while I booted the laptop. His proximity, the heat and scent of him, threatened to rob me of my ability to operate the computer.

Somehow, I managed to get the pictures on the screen. One by one we looked them over. Ty examined them in detail and magnified some for closer examination. That made them too grainy to see fine details, in my honest opinion.

"What does this say?" he asked. The picture he was looking at was one of the Lake Tahoe model.

"Where?"

He pointed to a scrap of paper beside the model. I hadn't noticed it when I was busy snapping pictures. Thank goodness it was on the same side as me and my camera. The printed words were almost clear enough to read. I enlarged that section of the picture and was able to read it. Mostly.

"The first word," I said at last, "looks like 'Rattlesnake.' The second might be John, or Jim, or Don. Hell, it could be anything."

"Is that thing connected to the web?" he asked, pointing at the laptop.

I nodded. "The whole Lodge is a wireless hotspot."

"All those flags look like places to make out a search. If it's for gold then that slip of paper might mean something. Do a search for gold and rattlesnake."

I frowned. "Sure, but what will that do?"

"If I was looking around for a bunch of gold, it would be gold someone might've hid. That might mean some mention on the web."

"And if it's written down on the Internet, it must be true."

"Cynic. Just do the search and let's see if anything pops up."

I typed in the two words in my search engine and started scrolling down the page, dismissing the first half-a-page before Ty pointed.

"That one. Rattlesnake Dick. It mentions a gold robbery."

I clicked the link. "Dear God, someone was really named Rattlesnake Dick? Please!"

"Read," Ty said sternly. "I think we're onto something.

The page was the biography of a thief from the California gold rush. Rattlesnake Dick, originally Dick Barter, AKA Dick Wood. He hit a mule train of gold mined from Yreka in Redding, CA in 1857. It was the monthly allotment of gold mined from Shasta and Trinity counties. A princely $80,000 haul.

That didn't sound like much until I realized the article was using mid-1800 dollars. That might be quite a lot of gold in today's dollars.

Dick and one of his cohorts went to steal some mules because they didn't want to use Wells Fargo mules and didn't return. The remaining gang members buried half the gold and split the rest four ways. One was killed fairly quickly by a Wells Fargo detective. One other was wounded and the remaining two captured.

Those Wells Fargo people didn't sound like they screwed around. The buried half of the gold was never recovered.

It turned out Dick and his remaining cohort had been arrested for attempting to steal some mules and, though they escaped before being tried, that was why they never returned to where the gold was stashed. Dick's cohort was quickly recaptured.

Dick was supposedly shot to death by the Placer County Sheriff in 1859. The uncertainty came in because he also supposedly hijacked a shipment of gold coin and bullion being moved from the San Francisco mint two months later. Good work for a dead guy.

The stolen gold was listed as a big honking load of 1857-S Liberty $20 gold coins and gold bars from five different assayers. All told, about three thousand pounds of gold were taken in Rattlesnake Dick's second big heist, if it really was him that last time.

"How much would something like that be worth now?" I asked in a hushed voice.

"Millions of dollars," Ty said. "Probably tens of millions of dollars. More if the coins could be sold through collectors, I'm sure." He pointed at the screen. "Now that is motive for murder."

I searched for the type of gold coin that had been heisted and pulled up a picture and the relevant details. 1857-S Liberty Double Eagle: 34mm diameter (1 1/3"), 33.4 grams (1.2 regular oz). One side of the pretty coin had a woman's head wearing a pearl-bordered diadem with the word "LIBERTY". She looked vaguely Greek. The back had an eagle with a shield on its breast. Above it, 13 stars set in an oval with rays above them.

"I wonder how many coins they took?"

"A lot, I'm sure. See if you can find any info on gold nuggets. I'd like to know how much you boosted from Wallace and how pissed he probably is without it."

Karen had delivered breakfast and smirked at Ty and me all wedged together by the time I located a site that sold gold nuggets. Before noon, word would be out that I had a boyfriend.

When I brought up a nugget that looked about the same size as the one I'd boosted it took my breath away. "Twelve thousand dollars!" Heads turned to stare at me so I lowered my voice. "That's more than my car is worth," I hissed.

"That might prompt a shooting all on its own," Ty agreed. "Let's eat and then we go straight to the cops."

I stared at him, aghast. "I can't tell them I stole a hunk of gold like that. That's grand theft! I'll go to jail till I'm old and gray."

"I'll come visit you every Wednesday."

I smacked him before I remembered his stitches--and the workout we'd given them earlier--but he only winced.

"I deserved that. Okay, you can't tell them about the gold but you can tell them all about Wallace stalking you. They should've received word from up north about the shooting by now. This is your chance to get Armstrong's murder the attention it deserves."

"But how does this even link up with Armstrong? Sure, it's more than enough to get someone killed, but as far as we know Armstrong isn't linked to the gold thing at all."

Ty shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea. It's the only thing I've seen so far that might get someone killed. Have you heard anything else that might do as a motive in a pinch?"

"Only his philandering ways and the ship recovery project," I said. "More than one person has said he played the field, including the married ladies. A jealous husband? That sounds more likely than anything to do with the S.S. Tahoe."

Ty sat up straighter. "Unless the gold and the S.S. Tahoe are linked. What if someone stashed the gold on the ship before it was sunk?"

"It was sunk almost seventy years ago and to a depth that modern divers have difficulty getting down to. That doesn't make much sense."

He held up his hand. "Hold on a second. This might work. She was originally supposed to end up at a much shallower depth. She was supposed to be sitting pretty in about eighty feet of water before she slalomed down to four hundred feet. World War II divers could get there."

"That's like eighty years after Rattlesnake Dick stole the gold. He certainly didn't hide it there. How did it get there, if it is there, and how did Jake Wallace end up with some of it?"

Ty smiled. "Answer that and you might just be able to solve this mystery."

My focus on the gold sounded more and more like it had probably gotten me shot at so that was a dangerous course to steer. I needed to use some of the other possible motives as a red herring to get the killer to back off a bit. I wanted to find the killer, not get killed.




A Touch of Death Ch. 09



* * * * *

After Ty warned me again not to leave the Lodge without him and left, I called the number Ginger had given me last night. I launched right into my spiel when she answered.

"Were you serious about wanting me to dig around the Inn?" I asked when she answered. "If you are, I'm inclined to go cause a scene and upset some people. If you aren't good with that, I'm still going but I'll keep your name out of it."

"I'm serious," she said in a grim voice. "I'm good with you asking all kinds of embarrassing questions and sticking your nose in all kinds of places in my name as long as it helps flush Steven's killer. What do you have in mind?"

"I heard some rumors that your brother was seeing a married woman. Dora Fletcher. I want to shake her and see if something falls out. Have you searched your brother's house yet?"

"I never heard of him fooling around with married women but at this point I'm not going to rule anything out. He could be very devious when it suited him. The idea of Steven sleeping with Dora gives me an upset stomach," she said, the distaste obvious in her voice. "To answer your question, I have and I did find some woman's stuff. None of it had any identifying information, though."

"This isn't the most likely scenario, but some things have happened since last night that make me want to stir up some mud. I think Jake Wallace shot at me last night. I want to get whoever it was thinking I'm off on a tangent while I keep digging."

"Someone shot at you?" she asked after a moment of shocked silence. "You're not hurt, are you? I don't want to see anyone else hurt."

"A friend was a little hurt," I admitted, "but I can't stop. I know just enough to have someone upset enough to kill me. There's no guarantee that they'll leave me alone if I just let things go. That, and it must mean I'm getting too close for comfort for the killer."

"Go to the police," she said firmly. "Tell them everything. Tell them about the gold. Tell them about the shooting. Let them either investigate or I'll sue the badges off them. Please don't take this kind of chances. I'd rather see my brother's murderer walk than see another innocent person hurt."

"Let me confront Dora," I pressed. "If I make a big enough scene, the killer will think I'm on the wrong track and will back off. I'll tell the police everything and they can pick up the ball. If they will."

"I'm not convinced this is the best plan," she said mulishly, "but I don't see that I have a lot of control at this point. I want to meet for lunch and hear everything in detail. There must be something I can do to take some of the heat."

"Call me when you're done with the Sheriff and we'll meet. I have to run. Be careful."

"I can't believe you're telling me to be careful! Don't get hurt. Promise me!"

"I promise. Gotta go. Bye."

I closed the cell phone and dropped it into my purse. Time to go spin up Dora. I really didn't care if she cheated with Steven Armstrong or not. While it would be poetic justice for Calvin to be cheated on by the woman that he cheated on me with, I didn't see either of them as the killer.

My intent to head straight for the Inn was dealt a blow when I got to the Lodge lobby. Standing at the desk talking with the day clerk was a frowning Senior Deputy Cooper. He spotted me before I could dodge out of sight and motioned for me to come over. Dammit.

"Miss Kane, you're a hard woman to catch," he said. "I'd like to talk with you privately."

I repressed a sigh. It was like being taken out to the woodshed for being bad. "Sure. I was just about to go to your office," I lied. "Let's go into my office."

He followed me into my office and closed the door behind him. I sat down on one of the chairs in front of my desk and gestured to the other. It was better to make this as informal as I could. He took in my office with an approving nod before he sat down.

"You keep a neat office. I like that. What I don't like is hearing someone took some shots at you last night. Especially after you've been poking your nose into a police investigation."

I raised my eyebrow. "Word on the street is that the police think Steven Armstrong had a tragic accident."

He flushed and scowled at me. "Let's not play that game. The investigation is still taking place and nothing has been ruled out. I'm only going to say this once but I want you to keep that perky little nose of yours out of this matter. We've already had complaints that I've been meaning to talk with you about."

"It seems to me," I said delicately, "that no matter what you're saying, you've already made up your mind. I think that last night should make you reconsider. If you investigated this matter like it deserved I wouldn't have to ask embarrassing questions and stick my pert little nose in places it doesn't belong."

Cooper leveled a finger at me. "This is an official warning. Keep that nose clean or I'll pick you up and show you the inside of a cell for interfering with an investigation. Don't think I won't."

I shrugged. "I hear you. Did you hear me?"

"There's no indication that whoever shot at you last night was connected with the death of Steven Armstrong."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, sure. Some whack job just unloaded on a random stranger on the beach. That happens all the time in the wild, wild west."

"Well, there's no concrete connection," he said defensively. "In any case, we're providing all possible assistance to the investigating officers. They tell me you think it might be Jake Wallace. I'd like to hear why you think that."

I don't care what everyone else said, I couldn't just tell him I'd boosted a gold nugget worth thousands of dollars. He'd lock me up in a heartbeat just to get me off the streets. I had to be careful because no matter what I said it was going to come out in the end and I needed to live in the same town as this man.

"I went to talk with him and he freaked out when I mentioned that you might be asking him some questions about the night Armstrong died," I said. "He took off like a wild man. He also was following me around just before I drove up north."

"Not that doing so proves squat," Cooper snorted, "but what the hell were you thinking going to see him anyway? Hello? Police investigation."

"I expected you'd have already spoken with someone that caused a scene like he did before I got there," I said blandly. "How was I to know you hadn't gotten around to interviewing him yet?"

"That doesn't answer my question, Miss Kane. If you thought Steven Armstrong was murdered, why are you harassing the two people most likely to have killed him? I know you're not stupid, so why?"

"I just wanted to hear what happened that night from his perspective. I didn't think-"

"You certainly didn't," he interrupted. "Never mind. I really don't need to know what the hell you were thinking. I never did catch up with him but I will. I have every officer on the lookout for him and the car you described to the officer you talked to last night. By the way, they recovered a slug from one of the beach chairs so they'll have a good chance to identify the gun, if we can find it."

He leaned forward. "Listen to me carefully. He's considered armed and dangerous. If I hear even one whisper that you're looking for him I'll lock you up in protective custody."

"You can't do that!"

He glared at me. "I can and I will. Push me and see if I don't. I'm going to look back over everything we've collected about Steven Armstrong's death again. I'm going to pick Wallace up and grill the hell out him. Then I'll turn him over to Crystal Bay and let them grill him. What you are going to do is mind your own business."

I ground my teeth in silent frustration. At least he was going to treat Armstrong's murder the way it needed to be treated. "Fine. As long as you're open minded I don't need to be nosy, do I?"

He stood up abruptly. "Whether I'm open minded or not, you are out of this affair. Remember that." Without waiting for my answer, he stomped out of my office.

I took a few minutes to get my breathing back under control and followed him out. All I needed to do at this point was have a big scene with Dora Fletcher and I could actually let him investigate in peace. I had no idea how I could turn him on to the gold but I'd come up with something. I climbed into my car and called Ty's cell. I realize that was bending the rules he'd laid down but too bad.

"Hey," he said. "Damien wants to have me make an exploratory dive on the Tahoe this afternoon. That gives me an opportunity to check it out for any extra ballast, if you know what I mean. It also lets me get you out of sight while the cops tear up the town looking for you-know-who. Can you be ready at the dock in twenty minutes?"

"That's a good idea. Deputy Cooper just ripped a strip off me and threatened to lock me up so a low profile might be a good thing." At least it would be after Dora and I had a nice public screaming match.

"That's the police for you," Ty commiserated. "A day late and a dollar short. Twenty minutes?"

"Give me thirty and pick me up at the dock by the Inn. I think a little public display with Dora will go a long way to cooling off whoever is shooting at me."

"How?" The frown in his voice made me smile. Men.

"Misdirection. Trust me. I'll be safe in public for half an hour."

"Unless Dora shoots you," he said resignedly. "Thirty minutes. If you're one second late I'll be coming in for you. Unless you want everyone to see me carry you off like a caveman you'll be prompt."

The thought of him carrying me anywhere made me lick my lips. "I'm not a kid to be dragged wherever you want," I said sternly. "You behave or there'll be no dessert for you."

"I'm not a kid, either. I'm the guy that wears leather and rides a Harley." His voice dropped into a lower register. "I'm the man your Mom warned you about. I'll misbehave and have dessert, Pudding."

I laughed. "I'll see you in thirty minutes at the dock by the Inn. If you're late I may have to spank you."

"Ditto," he said and hung up. I wasn't even into those kind of games but the thought excited me. I fanned my red face like an idiot. I had it bad.

I took a deep breath and started my car. There wasn't time for sexual fantasies. I had twenty-nine minutes to get Dora screaming and make it out to the dock or someone would get spanked. Maybe I could be just a few minutes late. No pain, no gain.



A Touch of Death Ch. 10



The desk clerk at the Inn directed me to the dock when I asked about Dora. The beach next to it was filled with tourists and there were even a few on boats tied up to the dock.

Dora stood beside the bloody piling while an older man dressed in denim coveralls knelt to examine it. They had their backs to me so I took that as a sign from God to sneak up and listen.

"It's down into the fibers of the wood," the man said. "There's nothing I can do to get it out."

"I can't leave it like this," Dora said. "People won't want to come out here with blood all over my dock. Can we replace the piling?"

The man nodded at her. "Sure, but that could get pricey. You might want to consider sealing the pilings and painting them. That would be a lot more cost effective."

"How soon can you do it?" she asked. "I want people to forget anything ever happened here, the sooner, the better."

The man stood and spotted me as he turned toward Dora. He nodded politely. "I can get started tomorrow morning. Let me work up an estimate for you before I leave."

Dora half-turned and her expression darkened when she saw me. "Perfect. If you would, just leave it with the front desk and I'll look at it as soon as I take care of some unpleasant business. I'll call your office within the hour."

He nodded again. "Pleasure doing business with you." He nodded at me. "Miss."

I smiled at him and let him by on his way back to the Inn. By the time he was past me Dora's expression had sunk to nuclear winter.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly.

I smiled, full of cheer. I could afford to be in a good mood. I was about to make Dora a very unhappy woman.

"Good morning! I wish I could say how much of a pleasure it is seeing you again. I'm following up for Ginger Armstrong." I smiled more widely. "You remember her. The woman that can sue the pants off you for wrongful death if something else doesn't turn up?"

Her frown became a scowl. "Don't be such a bitch. I told Calvin I'd cooperate but that was before I knew it would be you. Make it fast before I do something you'll regret."

I tisked gently. "Now, now. Let's not get our panties in a wad. Assuming, of course, you're wearing any." I held up a hand to forestall her hot retort. "Someone told me that Steven Armstrong was seeing someone on the sly. Did he have any female visitors while he was staying here?"

"If he did, it was no business of mine and it isn't any business of yours," she said. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

I grinned. "That's simple enough. Rumor is he was sneaking around with a married woman. That kind of thing might drive a jealous husband to kill."

Dora's jaw dropped and her face became beet red. "Are you accusing me of sleeping with Steven Armstrong?" she half-shouted. "That's pure bullshit, you jealous bitch! I'd never cheat on my husband!"

Perfect. I raised my voice to match her volume, carefully not looking around to see who might be watching the growing scene. "Don't make me laugh. If anyone knows for sure that you'd cheat, it's me. Were you cheating with Armstrong?"

"I wasn't married when I slept with Calvin," she sneered, hunching her shoulders higher. "It's not my problem if you couldn't keep him interested. That's not surprising, really, since he said you just lay there like a dead fish."

I poked her in the chest with my finger. "I wouldn't believe a single word micro-dick tells you about anything. A little bird told me you were hot and heavy with Armstrong. You slipped out of the dinner party with him for a little sport in a dark corner." 

"Keep it up, slut," she hissed. "Keep pushing and I'd beat the snot out of your Barbie doll ass." She took a step forward, emphasizing how badly she out-massed me. "I told you I don't sleep around and I won't say it again. If you're looking for a cheap floozy then you need to look at some of the Yacht Club wives. Those whores sleep around like it's a hobby. Go bother someone like Alison Stanton."

Alison! I quickly masked my surprise. Interesting that she would point the finger of blame back at the source of the rumor.

"You talk a good fight, Dora. I almost believe you. I wonder if any of the ladies clothes Steven kept at his house have your initials in them."

I realized I'd gone too far the moment I said that. Dora's expression twisted with fury and she grabbed me by the throat with both hands, squeezing for all she was worth. I tried to pull her hands off me but they were like iron. My lungs burned with the need for air and I started panicking. The bitch was going to kill me!

Someone reached between us and twisted her hands away from my neck, breaking her hold. I scampered back and breathed cool air like a bellows pumping into a furnace. Dora struggled to break the man's grip to no avail.

It wasn't a stranger; it was Ty. Thank God!

"Mrs. Fletcher," he said, "you really need to attend an anger management course before you hurt someone."

"Let me go you bastard," she screamed. "I'll kill that skinny little whore." Her eyes glinted as she snarled at him.

If that bothered him, it didn't show. "You need to cool off a little before you go inside. You're scaring all these fine people."

I looked around and everyone was staring at us. Hell, people were pouring out the back of the Inn to see the cat fight. A scream and a loud splash made me look back to Dora and Ty. Or, rather, to Ty. Dora was gone. He'd thrown her into the water. Again. I couldn't help laughing.

Ty turned away from the edge of the dock and theatrically dusted his hands off. He grinned at me. "It's good to see you've started learning how to win friends and influence people." 

Dora screamed imprecations and threats that made women on the beach clap hands on young ears. 

That only made Ty's grin widen. "So, do you wait here for her to climb out or are you ready to go?" He gestured to a motor boat bobbing at the end of the pier.

Dora sounded like she was making good time toward the beach. My mission was accomplished with panache. Everyone would know I thought Armstrong was killed for sleeping around before lunch. It was time to flee.

"After you," I said with a grin of my own and a half-bow toward the boat. Together, we walked quickly but calmly to the boat. A soaking wet Dora made it to the end of the dock just after Ty had cast off and started the motor. I waved at her cheerfully from my seat as he took us into a powered turn and away from shore. The roar of the motor obliterated her voice and we were gone.

* * * * *

By the time we were pulling up to a large ship, I'd told Ty all about the confrontation with Dora and my reasoning for it. I expected a butt chewing but he took it all in stride. I think it amused him.

He killed the engines and our boat gently bumped up against the larger boat at a small platform under a huge metal gantry. Ty smoothly jumped across and secured a mooring rope. He helped me step over and lifted me onto the ladder leading upward.

My stomach did a slow roll at the feeling of his hands clamped on my waist. I smiled at him and didn't object when they lingered just a touch too long. "You've got strong hands," was all I said.

"I have strong everything," he assured me. "Damien is waiting up there or we could talk about it in more... depth." With a quick grin, he slapped my butt. I scurried up the ladder with a laugh and a thudding heartbeat. Thoughts of last night kept trying to take my mind to interesting places, but I forced myself to focus. There'd be time later to think those thoughts.

Damien Manchester was standing on the deck at the top of the ladder. I think he must've overheard us because he was smiling deeply. "Welcome aboard the Aztec Warrior," he said. Across the lower deck, two men coiling a cable of some kind grinned at each other. Oh yeah, they heard us.

I flushed and stepped aside. Ty climbed nimbly up the ladder and stood beside me. "Thank you for inviting me," I said. "Ty's been telling me about the project. Can you really lift a two hundred foot steamer after all this time?"

He nodded and took my elbow, leading me up the steps to the bridge. A tall, supermodel-thin woman with short brown hair stood near the big wheel and smiled at us politely as we entered the bridge.

Damien nodded her. "This is Catherine Deal, my Captain. Cat, you know Ty and this is his, ah, friend Candy."

The woman smiled a bit wider at Damien's hesitation. "Welcome aboard, Candy." She raised an eyebrow at Damien. "Are we ready to get a move on?" Damien nodded and she started the engines and gave the wheel a gentle turn. "We'll be there in about half an hour."

"Thanks, Cat," Damien said. He gestured toward a door at the rear of the bridge. "Ty, Candy, let's adjourn to the operations room and I'll gainfully spend some time explaining the plan for today."

Ty shook his head. "I've heard it and unless you object, I need to go get suited up or we'll be wasting time." He raised an eyebrow at me.

I nodded. "Go make sure everything is good. I'll be fine."

Damien led me back into a well-appointed sitting room with a table bolted to the floor. Magnets held maps and other papers securely to the surface in spite of the roll of the boat. He gestured at one of the chairs. "Would you like a soft drink?"

I nodded and sat down to examine the maps. "A diet drink would be perfect, if you have one."

He retrieved a can of soda while I marveled at the detailed map spread before me. It showed the depth of the water to an incredible precision. It was laid out just like a contour map showing every dip and rise.

"This is amazing," I said as I took the cold can he offered me. "I had no idea the lake was so well mapped."

He sat down beside me and popped the top on his non-diet drink. "It wasn't until just a few years ago. Some scientists towed an array of instruments all over the lake: side-scan sonar, magnometers, you name it. They even precisely placed a host of sunken ships, though we don't know what they all are. It makes my job of raising the Tahoe easier." He pointed to a ship on the lower left side of the map. "That and the pictures some adventurous divers took of the hull."

"What will Ty be doing today?"

"He'll be making a circuit of the hull to be sure nothing disastrous has happened. His suit has a high-powered light and an integral camera. He'll also be verifying the integrity of the suit at this depth."

"Is it dangerous," I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

"It should be perfectly safe," he reassured me. "The suit is rated for dives over two thousand feet. This is just a piddling four hundred feet."

I licked my lips and nodded. "And then he'll come back up so you can examine the camera footage?"

"Maybe," he said, rocking his head from side to side in little jerks. "Ty is trying to convince me to let him take a peek inside the ship. He somehow got the crazy idea in his head that there's a fortune in gold down there."

Dismay threatened to flood my face so I schooled my expression. "He said that?"

Damien nodded and took a drink of his soda. "Yup. He trotted out some crazy story about a hoard of stolen gold being stashed on the Tahoe just before it was sunk." His lips tightened. "He seems to think someone might have killed Steven for it."

"What do you think of the idea?" I asked delicately. Ty and I were going to have to talk about loose lips.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "I think it's crazy. Even if there were gold down there, how will killing Steven help anyone? Stop the project? I don't think so and no one that knows me would think so either. I'm even more dedicated to success now." He shook his head. "No, I almost wish there was even as crazy a reason as that for Steven's death but there isn't. It was a senseless accident."

"What if it isn't smoke? What if there really is a pile of gold down there?"

He snorted and drained his can of drink. "Then I raise the ship and hand the gold over to the police. Stolen goods are the property of the owners or their heirs. They wouldn't be covered by any salvage law, though I might make an argument for a finder's fee. It's wrong to take something that belongs to someone else. There's always a heavy penalty for those that don't remember that. I'll take the good press and that would be my reward if there turns out to be any looted gold down there." He sounded almost grim by the end of his little speech.

After a beat he shook his head and smiled wryly. "I sound way too serious. These last few days have been a real drag. Was it you that put the idea of gold into Ty's head?"

I considered my options and nodded. "I suppose I did. Steven's sister asked me to look into his death because I'm nosy and that popped up."

He raised his soda in salute. "She's a wonderful person. Elsa loves her like a niece. The idea has the blessing of originality, I'll give it that." He squinted at me. "It was serious enough to get my lead diver hurt. Do you really think that enviro-wacko was after gold and shot at the two of you? And that Edward Stanton is somehow connected to him?"

I balanced the public scene I'd created earlier with all the information Ty had let slip and mentally shrugged. "It sure seems that way. I can't say how Stanton and Wallace are linked, but I think they are. Stanton knew I'd talked to Wallace so the two are in communication. You might be right that Steven died in an accident, but Wallace is acting guilty. Tying him down will let the police eliminate that possibility at the very least."

Damien nodded his head thoughtfully. "That's a very good point. Until the police drag out the lights and rubber hoses they can't exclude the possibility that Wallace killed Steven. Or prove it, though I'm not sure how they might do that. I hope they get him soon." He waved a finger at me. "Until they do, you need to stay out of his sight. Let Ty keep you safe. Do you have a gun?"

I shook my head and grimaced at the memory of the vision I'd had of Ty using one. I don't think I'd ever want to have to use one. "No. I've never handled one. I'd be afraid I'd shoot my own foot off." I held up a finger to signal a subject change. "If you don't mind, I have a couple of questions about Steven."

"For Ginger? Certainly. Ask away."

"Steven had a reputation as a ladies' man," I said delicately. "Was there anyone special in his life when he died?"

Damien shook his head. "Steven was always seeing someone. Sometimes more than one at a time. I could never keep track of who was up at bat. I'm surprised that they haven't come scurrying out from under the floorboards by now."

"Were any of them married?"

He scowled. "Not that I ever heard. He played the field but the only women I know of were safely single. That's one nasty rumor that I'd rather not see slither out from under its rock. Why in the world would you think something like that?"

I shrugged. "Someone I talked with mentioned it. Actually, two people mentioned it. Both of them are married and pointed the finger at each other. You'll probably hear about one of them before we get back to port since she and I had a screaming match over it."

His eyes glinted with a little humor. "You? Screaming at someone? I can't see it. Who did they say Steven was supposed to have cavorted with?"

I wasn't inclined to shield Dora. Let her reputation suffer. "Dora Fletcher."

His eyes widened. "That shrew?" He laughed. "Steven told me himself that her husband must duct tape her mouth before sex. He couldn't stand the woman. You can rule her out of any torrid affair with Steven. Who else?"

I hesitated and he raised his hand in a Boy Scout salute. "I promise that it will go no further than this room. Scout's honor. Steven and I talked about everything. Let me help."

I sighed. "Since it came from Dora, it's hardly more than slander in my opinion. I don't want to sully the woman. Please keep it quiet. She told me I should look at Alison Stanton."

He scratched his chin. "I know her, of course. Her husband is in the Mariner's Association. She's always been devoted to her husband so I can't see her having an affair with anyone, much less Steven. Steven had a little black book with names, phone numbers, and little stars. Maybe you can check that."

"A book?" I asked with interest. "I hadn't heard anything about a book. Do you know where he kept it?"

Damien shrugged. "I assume he kept it at home. You can probably ask Ginger to get it for you. I don't think it will help, though. Like I said, I don't see Steven poaching."

"Do you think the gold is more likely?" I asked with a saucy grin and my tongue figuratively in my cheek.

"I'd bet my life on it," he said, rising to his feet. "Ty should be almost ready and we'll be on site in a few minutes. Come on down and give him a good lecture on being careful down there."

* * * * *

Ty stood in the stern dressed in a spacesuit. At least, it looked like a spacesuit. The thick walled helmet lay nearby on the deck. He grinned at me as one of the three men around him fitted an earpiece with an attached microphone to his ear.

"My good luck charm has arrived," he said. "I can dive now."

I gave him the look. "You're a nut. I can't believe I let you talk me into being out here while you risk your life like this."

"Safe as houses," he assured me. "A walk in the park."

I shook my head. The crazy goon was going to risk his life and he was cracking jokes. He needed to get things in perspective. I stepped in front of him and gauged the distance between my face and his. He towered over me and that suit didn't look that flexible. I started looking for footholds on the suit.

One of the men laughed and grabbed a small stool. "Don't step on him, you might damage the suit. Use this."

"Thanks." I stepped up and grabbed Ty's hair, planting my mouth on his before he could say anything. I kissed him passionately. Only when I was sure he was about to start ripping the suit off did I pull back and stared into his eyes from two inches away. "That's for luck."

Our audience hooted and clapped when I jumped back out of Ty's grasp and smiled my best sexy smile from a safe distance away. "Come back up safe and I'll see my plans are for later."

"You sure know how to negotiate," Ty said in a ragged voice. "Always leave something on the table. If you have plans for dinner tonight, cancel them. You're booked."

"Now he'll walk to shore if he has a problem," one of the guys told me as he picked up the helmet and settled it over Ty's head. A twist locked it into place and he started tightening some fasteners. When the suit was fully sealed, he turned on a radio mounted to the winch. "Radio check."

Damien whispered in my ear. "Two-way radio. Everything any of us say will go right to the other."

"Loud and clear," Ty replied. "The indicators are all green. I'm go for dive on this end."

The man turned to Damien. "We're go for dive, Mister Manchester."

Damien nodded and picked up a handset beside a TV monitor on a rolling cart. "Cat, we're go down here. What's the ETA to the dive zone?"

He listened to her response.

"Roger that. Two minutes. Thanks."

It seemed like an eternity before the ship came to a halt but the crew made up for it with the speed they hoisted Ty up and started lowering him into the water. My last sight of him was a grin and a stiff-armed wave. I felt like my throat was swelling shut.

Damien patted my shoulder. "Relax. He's going to be fine. Pull up a chair and watch the monitor with me. We'll have the best seat in the house."

The monitor showed the bottom of the boat as seen from Ty's slowly descending point of view. The water was crystal clear and the boat got quite small before he looked downward into the approaching gloom. He switched on his suit lamps and bright spears of light shot into the darkness.




A Touch of Death Ch. 10



"Three hundred feet," Damien said. "How are you feeling down there?"

"Just peachy. I think I see something on the bottom off to my left."

"Stand by." Damien peered at a smaller screen beside the radio. "We might be a little off the side," he admitted. "Shout out when you can see either the ship or the lake bed."

"Roger."

My guts felt like someone had stuck a fork through my belly button and were twisting my intestines like spaghetti. I forced myself to sit still and breathe slowly and deeply. Panic wouldn't help anyone.

"I see the bow of a ship off to my left." The camera twisted around until the silt-covered bow of a ship seemed to materialize out of the darkness. Even with a spotlight it seemed unspeakably dark down there. "Confirm on the ship. You'll have to move me if you want the best view."

"Got it. We're going to halt you there and start relocating the ship," Damien told him before he grabbed the handset to the bridge. "Cat, we need to be about forty feet to the southeast. Bring us around and reposition."

Damien sat down next to me. "This will take a little time. We don't want to swing him all over God's creation but he has to be roughly in position before we can use the gantry to move him around."

"I feel like I'm soaked in sweat," I confessed quietly. I didn't want Ty to hear this. "I didn't expect to be so nervous. I thought it would be like watching an astronaut during a spacewalk but it's not."

He clapped his hand on my shoulder. "It's natural to feel that way when someone you care about is doing something like this. Once we get him in position and can use the gantry and the ship to take him up one side and down the other it will go by much faster and you won't feel so torn up. Would you like another soda?"

I shook my head and smiled weakly. "Don't mind me. I'm fine. Get this wrapped up and pull Ty back out."

He bowed his head. "Your wish is my command."

It only took ten minutes before Ty was hovering above the sunken ship. Its white hull was long and narrow, vanishing ahead into the gloom like an arrow pointing the way down a darkened set of stairs.

"I'm in a good location," Ty said at last. "Move me to the side and we can start up one side and back down the other."

The team worked with him and shortly he was moving slowly along the side of the ship. The upper decks seemed mostly intact, though some areas had collapsed. The hull itself seemed intact. Ty and Damien called back and forth about where lift bags could be secured. I was both amazed at how intact the ship was and dismayed at the devastation local collapses had caused.

After Ty had made the sweep around the bottom of the ship, he had them raise him higher and made another run over the top of the ship. He had them pause beside the boiler stack. It was stove in but amazingly still upright.

"Looks like sinking really did a number on this," Ty said. "I saw an open hatch ahead. I want to take a peek inside."

"Negative," Damien said. "We don't have any idea what kind of shape the superstructure is in."

"And if we don't take at least one look we never will," Ty retorted. "I'm not talking about going in and searching the passenger cabins. I'm just talking about you lowering me inside an open hatch and taking a quick look around.

"Right," Damien said with a snort. "You don't fool me, Mister treasure hunter. You just want to look for goodies."

Ty laughed. "It's the pirate in me."

Damien stalked back and forth on the deck but finally nodded. "Okay. But only under my rules. We lower you straight in and pull you right back out after you take a 360. No haring off in search of buried treasure."

"Deal," Ty said. "Bring me a few feet forward and start me down."

The monitor showed a hatch in the deck laid open. The interior of the ship was shrouded in inky black. I longed to beg him to stay out of there but I somehow managed to hold onto my tongue.

The wide interior of the hold came into focus as Ty was fully immersed into the ship. Silt and small pieces of flotsam floated through the clear water but the forward part of the hold was empty. Ty slowly turned in place until he was looking aft.

The rear of the hold wasn't empty. A silt covered lump of something lay not five feet behind where Ty floated.

"Hello," Ty said. "What have we here?"

We all leaned forward and stared at the monitor.

"Damned if I know," Damien muttered, glancing at me incredulously. "Maybe there's buried treasure down there after all."

"Lower me down and I'll wipe some of the gunk away."

Damien nodded and lowered Ty until his feet were on the deck. The silt swirled into the water obscuring the view.

"There must be quite a bit of silt on the bottom but I have a good footing," Ty said confidently. "I'm walking to the object."

The level of silt rose until I couldn't see a damn thing but dirty water. I hoped the view on scene was better.

"It looks uneven but that might only be the silt," Ty said at last. "I'm wiping off a part of it and then I'll wait for water to clear a little."

After a few minutes, the level of crap in the water subsided enough to make out what Ty was looking at. I frowned. That looked like rotted canvas.

"It's a cover," I blurted out. "Rotted canvas."

Everyone turned to stare at me before looking at the monitor again.

Damien rubbed his chin. "It just might be," he conceded. "Ty, could that be an old canvas sheet stretched over something?"

Ty poked his hand into the surface of whatever it was and it tore apart. "That might be exactly what it is. Good call up there," he congratulated us. "Let me see if I can see what it's covering. Damien, I thought the ship was stripped before being sunk."

"So did I," Damien admitted. "Take a peek and then we're pulling you out. I don't want to disturb this area too much."

"When we lift the ship it's going to be yanked all over the place," Ty said. "Still, you pay the bills."

Ty pulled the canvas with his thick-fingered gloves and tore a wide hole in the cover, coincidentally throwing up a cloud of silt. "I see something loose inside. Stand by." He reached inside and pulled something out into the light. Even with the nasty water it was recognizable enough to make us all suck in a deep breath.

"Well, well," Ty said. "A gold nugget."

The men stared at one another in shock. Damien shook his head and stared at me. "I'll be double damned. You were right all along."

I smiled in elation. This was it. I had Jake Wallace and Edward Stanton by the balls now. Motive in pure gold, and not tied up with me lifting it from someone's house.

"Now there is a motive for murder," I said with a smirk.

"You can say that again," Ty answered.

On the monitor, covered in rotten canvas and silt was a fleshless human skull grinning out at us.



A Touch of Death Ch. 11



"You found another dead body," Ty said. "Who are you, Jessica Fletcher?" He lifted the canvas further and the light revealed a substantial stack of ruptured bags and a large spill of nuggets and coins covered in a fine patina of muck. The skeleton was laying half under the spill. The rotted remnants of clothes were visible, as well as a mostly disintegrated rope.

"This is hardly my fault," I objected, studying the body closely, "and everyone knows that woman was the world's cleverest serial killer. No one could find that many bodies without putting some of them there."

Damien made a quelling gesture with his hand. "Ty, this dive is over. Get one more good look and then we'll start drawing you back up. We'll call the police as soon as we get back to shore and turn this over to them."

"Roger," Ty said. "Stand by."

Damien pulled me aside. "I must admit I had reservations about your theory, but I take them all back. I'm flabbergasted. Maybe Steven's death wasn't as cut and dried as I imagined."

"The Sheriff's Department won't be able to ignore this," I agreed, "though I think that body went down with this ship seventy years ago."

Damien watched the monitor as Ty made a good scan of the area. "Who do you think it is? Someone connected with Wallace or Stanton?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea. I'm not even really sure how Stanton connects with Wallace. I don't think it'll matter, though. Once the police get their hands on Wallace I bet he talks. Then we'll all know."

He slowly nodded. "After I'm finished raising hell they'll damned well be tearing up the streets looking for this bum," he said grimly. "And they better hope they find him before I do."

"I hope you have better luck with them than I've had." The monitor showed Ty being lifted from the hold and starting his long trip back to the surface.

It seemed to take forever but they finally hoisted Ty over the side of the ship and lowered him to the deck. He grinned at me through his silt covered helmet while the crew swarmed all over him, extracting him from the suit. He shook his damp hair as soon as the helmet popped off and took a deep breath.

"I have to hand it to you, Candy," he drawled. "Hanging around you is never boring. Bodies, bullets, and now sunken gold. What will you do for an encore?"

"Hang around and you'll find out," I said with a saucy toss of my hair. "Get out of that suit, get cleaned up, and we can talk about it over lunch."

His grin got even wider. "Deal."

Damien got everyone moving and the boat turned back toward Angel's Point while they cleaned up the dive equipment and stored it. We were just dropping anchor two hundred feet from the Lodge's dock when Ty rejoined me on the deck.

"I can't wait to hear how you explain this to Cooper."

I gave Ty a quelling look. "There's no way he can lay this on me. He'll have to finally get on track and find Armstrong's killer now."

Damien singled out a crewman to ferry us to the dock and we were on our way. We'd covered almost half the distance when my cell phone chirped with Mom's ringtone.

"Hi Mom."

"Shut up and listen closely," a male voice said. Jake Wallace's voice. My breath caught in my throat.

"I hope you found the gold on that ship because I have your mother. I'll exchange her for it."

"Don't hurt her," I said, my voice choked out of my suddenly tight throat. Ty and Damien glanced at one another. "I don't have any control over what they do."

Jake laughed without much humor. "I think you do and you better use all your wiles to convince them."

"What's going on?" Ty demanded quietly.

I covered the phone. "Wallace has my mother! He wants the gold!"

He took the phone out of my hand. "We can do that but salvaging the gold won't be easy. It's dangerous and it'll take some time." I couldn't understand what Jake was saying, but Ty's expression became even more grim. "That's sweet," Ty said. "Now let me tell you something. If you so much as touch her I'll hunt you down and put bullets in places you'd never dream of. You can have the gold or your fun, not both. Take the gold and walk away."

My stomach flipped over and I felt like I was going to throw up. What if Damien wouldn't go along? Did I trust the police to catch him before my mother got hurt?

Ty nodded his head. "Agreed. Now Candy talks to her mother or the whole deal is off." He handed me the phone. I listened intently.

"Candy? He means what he says, baby." She sounded terrified. "Please, give him what he wants. I-"

"There," Wallace said. "She's alive and well. For the moment. You have 24 hours to get that gold. I'll call you at this number and remember, no cops or she dies." The connection went dead.

"What do I do?" I asked Ty as the boat pulled up to the dock at the Lodge.

"We do what he says," Damien said. "We give him the gold. It's only money and we know he's dangerous." He jerked his head back toward the lake. "Take the lead on this, Ty. I don't want safety compromised but you can get everything set up for a dive first thing in the morning. The gold will be heavy so you'll need to figure out the best way to get it up safely."

Ty nodded. "I have some ideas that I think will work just fine." He pulled me into his arms. "We'll get her back. I promise."

I wanted to burst into tears but I didn't have time for that. I took a deep breath and held him for a moment longer. "We don't know he'll turn her loose. I don't dare tell the police but we have to do something to try and find them."

"Let Ty start the ball rolling and I'll ask some quiet questions," Damien said. "I'll bet my shirt that Stanton has a place or a connection to a place that he could be using. When Ty gets done, maybe we'll have a place to check out."

"What do I do?" I asked.

"He won't be out and about while he has a guest," Ty said. "No matter what he says, he won't hurt your Mom while he expects to get the gold. Keep pushing. Ask questions. Someone knows something and if we can find out where he is tonight I can get your Mom before he even knows I'm around."

Ice filled my belly and I shivered. I didn't really have a choice. Wallace's track record certainly didn't inspire confidence in me. Besides, he already knew I was digging into this whole thing. That might give me some slack while I tried to get a line on him because that might be the only way I got Mom back.

"Fine," I said at last. I laid my hand on Damien's shoulder. "Thanks for helping."

He shook his head. "I know about love. I'd do anything to get my wife back if she was taken from me. Go ask your questions and I'll do my part. I'm parked at the Inn so I'll have Ty drop me off."

We exchanged cell numbers and I gave Ty one last ferocious hug. "I'll see what property any of them has on the books. If they haven't figured out we know they are working together it might be that simple."

Ty nodded. "Good plan. Ride with me and we'll do it together. We can scout them and not stir up the police until we're sure where he's hiding."

I couldn't argue with that. Now we were doing something. I stuffed myself into the back seat over Damien's objection and we made the trip to the Inn in record time. Damien was on his cell and in his Mercedes by the time I was secured in the front seat.

"Let's go to City Hall. My friend Zach will be able to get what we need fast. Remember, don't mention anything about Wallace having Mom."

* * * * *

A quick visit to City Hall turned up a few interesting facts. Zach found several properties that were owned by Stanton and his wife. There was his house here in Angel's Point, a ski lodge north of the lake, a beach house across the lake on the California side, and a cabin in the hills above Angel's Point right up against the Toiyabi National Forest.

That last property was very interesting as it was right up against the mountains and the Toiyabi National Forest. Since there were no paved roads and or skiing, that made it stand out like a light in the dark. It would be a good place for a kidnapper to hide someone. I made a mental note of exactly where it was on the maps of the Tahoe basin on Zach's wall.

Zach made a quick call and gathered up some history for us. The cabin had been built by Jedediah Stanton, Edward Stanton's grandfather. It turned out that old Jedediah had a colorful history. A loner that wasn't even close to his wife and children, he was gold crazy. He roamed all over Nevada and California searching for gold without major success. Sometime in the late thirties or early forties he went on a trip and never came back.

Zach's gossip source said that rumors at the time were that Jedediah had a lead on a cache of stolen gold. Then, without prompting, Zach mentioned Rattlesnake Dick and a few other big heists where the booty was never recovered.

In addition, there was a shipment from the San Francisco Mint that was supposedly hijacked. It was supposedly because the government at the time denied there had been a robbery. Legend had it that cask upon cask of gold double eagles and gold ingots were lifted from a mint shipment and vanished without a trace. The supposed robber? Our old friend, Rattlesnake Dick. He must've been a busy little beaver before he was killed.

Ty didn't say anything until we were in his car and on the way back toward the Lodge.

"I think there's something to the mint legend."

I half turned in my seat to face him. "At this point I'll believe almost anything. Why?"

Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin glinting of gold. I picked it up off his palm. It was a bit more than an inch across and heavy. One side had a woman's head with some kind of diadem. It was inscribed "Liberty." The reverse had an eagle with a spray of stars above it and had "Twenty D." below it.

"That's an 1857-S Liberty Double Eagle," he said. "I logged into the computer on the dive ship and checked it on the Internet. I found it under the muck on the S.S. Tahoe and kept it. Maybe there's something to that mint robbery after all."

"You think Jedediah Stanton found Rattlesnake Dick's stash?"

He shrugged and turned into the lodge parking lot. "It's as good a theory as any, and better than most."

I tried to hand it back but he only shook his head. "Keep it. Change into something that will blend into the woods and find a sturdy pair of boots. I'll go change and meet you back here in twenty minutes."

I slipped the coin into my pocket and ran inside. It only took me ten minutes to change into something suitably muted and my sturdiest hiking boots. I spent the remaining time until he returned pacing the parking lot. It felt like hours before he returned.

He'd changed into a worn pair of camouflage pants and jacket. It looked like a military uniform stripped of any patches or insignia. A dark green canvas knapsack sat in the back seat. He took off as soon as I was inside, making me buckle up on the move.

"Okay," he said, "I'll park at the nearest approach to the cabin and we'll hike up. Once we get near the cabin, I'll slip ahead and scout the place. If he's there, I'll neutralize him."

"Like hell I'll just sit back while you go get my mother! I'm going all the way." I crossed my arms and glared at him.

He eyed me coolly as he turned up the hill and started up the winding road into the forest. "And you think rushing in will make her safer? Come on, Candy, think. If he has the least idea we're here your mother could get hurt."

"I can be quiet. I can do what I'm told. What I can't do is idly stand by. I'm going and that's the end of that. Stop wasting time arguing and let's do this."

His let his breath out in a hiss and sighed. "I'd forgotten just how stubborn you are. Fine. You follow me up and I'll work out a plan once I take a look at the layout of the cabin. For that I need to look at it without a greenhorn clomping behind me. I'll come back for you and we'll slip in together."

I eyed him suspiciously. "You swear?"

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "You'd make me pay if I double crossed you, so I might as well make the best of a bad situation. But if you don't do exactly what I tell you, I'll tie your shapely ass up and leave you in the woods. Understand?"

"You just wish you could tie me up," I retorted. "Deal."

He laughed. "I'd be happy to tie you up any time you like. Maybe after dinner, once we have your mom free and this scum bucket in a cage."

A thrill ran up my spine at the momentary vision I had of myself trussed up in my bed with him leaning over me. I shivered delicately and sternly told my libido to mind its priorities.

"You say the sweetest things. Let's do this thing and then we'll talk about it."

If we all got out this alive, I promised myself we'd do more than talk.

* * * * *

The road twisted high up the slope of the mountain and the occasional glimpses of the lake would have made me feel at peace any other time. It ended at a red and white barrier with a shiny new BMW convertible and Jake Wallace's beat up Pinto parked in front of it.

"That's Wallace's Pinto!" I squealed. I clapped my hand over my mouth. "I so did not just sound like an airhead," I mumbled.

Ty smiled and backed his car in beside them. "We might need to make a quick getaway. Someone must be up there with him. Probably Stanton. Come on." He grabbed his pack and we got out of his car. He rested his hand on the hood of each car in turn. "The Pinto is cold, but the BWM hasn't been here long." 

I followed him around the barrier. A faint trail led deeper into the woods.

"It's probably a half mile to the cabin," I whispered.

"Don't whisper," he said quietly. "That carries further than just speaking softly. In fact, unless there's something pressing, let's not talk at all." I nodded my agreement.

The tall trees quickly cut off all but a trickle of light. Undeterred, Ty strode off into the gloom with me on his heels. The quiet of the forest and the smells of earth and pine surrounded me like a shield. It was hard to believe something so ugly as kidnapping could be connected to this place at all.

The path meandered a bit as if it was unsure of where it was going. It was heavily overgrown and I was thankful Ty had thought of grabbing boots. The only living creature we saw on the hike in was a squirrel who scampered up the closest tree while heaping abuse on us for intruding.

I was wondering if we'd missed the cabin when Ty stopped so suddenly I bounced off him. I managed to catch myself without falling or making any noise. 

"There's a clearing ahead," Ty said softly. "Wait here while I check it out." He started to head off the path and stopped. "That means no sneaking up to take a peek."

I rolled my eyes. "Just go."

He slipped off into the brush with hardly a sound to mark his passing and was gone.

I tried to be good, I really did, but after ten minutes I couldn't just stand there waiting. I needed to see what was going on. Wary of making any noise or being spotted, I placed each foot meticulously and kept an eye out for the first sign of the house as I advanced.

The path opened up into a clearing with a stunning view of the mountains. In the center of the clearing was the cabin. I immediately stopped moving and crouched in place.

The cabin was still almost invisible through the forest. It was made of rough-cut logs and still looked solid enough, despite its age and semi-abandoned status. It looked stout enough to last another century. Old Jedediah might have had a screw or two loose, but he knew how to build. A single, shuttered window and a heavy timbered door faced me.

I'd barely had a chance to get familiar with the view when the cabin door flew open and Edward Stanton burst out. I must not have been nearly as well concealed as I thought because he stopped dead in his tracks, staring right at me. The only thought that popped into my head was how pissed Ty was going to be. 

An eternity passed in about two seconds before he broke the tableau with a growl and started toward me. Exercising discretion, I bolted into the woods and hauled ass. Undergrowth tugged at my feet, trying to trip me, and limbs slapped me with wild abandon and dodged and wove trying to break contact. The sound of Stanton crashing through the brush right behind me inspired me to even greater speed.

I slowly pulled away from him and was beginning to hope for a total escape when my luck ran out. The brush opened up with shocking suddenness onto the lip of a gorge cut deep into the ground. I teetered for a moment before rescuing my balance with only my toes dangling over a hundred foot drop to the tumbled stones below.

A narrow gap to the left tempted me, but the ground gave way with a sharp crack before I could move. I screamed as I fell and grabbed at the side of the gorge. A handy tree root held me for a moment, long enough for me to slam into the rock wall, then it snapped.

I slid ten or fifteen feet before I grabbed a rock solid enough to hold me. A quick feel with my feet told me I was in a bad spot. No matter how I slid them, I couldn't find any purchase. I had to find something more solid before my arms wore out and I fell to my death.

A chuckle above me made me look up. Stanton's face leered at me from above. "Looks like curiosity killed the cat. I told you questions could be dangerous."

"Help me," I pleaded. While I didn't want to end up in his hands, that was better than dying. Besides, that would give Ty time to find us.

"I think... not. Jake underestimated you. I won't make that mistake. Break a leg. Or a neck." He gave me a two-fingered salute and disappeared.

I cursed loudly and started screaming for help.

Second by second, my fingers grew more numb. I forced myself to take a deep, calming breath. Panic wasn't going to help me. I needed a more secure hold or I was going to fall before Ty found me.

I didn't want to do it, but I risked a look below me. The long drop made my stomach do a slow, queasy roll.

"Focus, Candy," I muttered. I took another deep breath and limited my gaze to the rock wall itself. There, just below me was a crack that might be wide enough to take the toe of my boot. I'd be hunched over a little but a cramp was the least of my worries.

It took three tries to wedge my boot into the crack. There. That gave me some breathing room, literally and figuratively. Now I could call for help.

Call for help. I cocked my head. Maybe I could do just that.

I secured my grip as best I could and risked taking a hand away from my hold to grab my cell phone off my belt. One bar. Crap, this wasn't looking good. I hit the speed dial for Ty. For a few seconds I got nothing, then his phone rang.

"Where are you?" he answered as soon as he picked up. "Are you okay?"

"I need you right now," I said as calmly as I could manage. "I ran off the path and off a cliff."

"You're breaking up. What about a cliff?"

"I fell off a cliff. A CLIFF!"

I wanted for him to answer but the call dropped. I pressed redial to try again but my fingers slipped a little on the rock. The phone tumbled into the gorge and idiot me watched it fall all the way down and shatter into a million pieces on the boulder right under me. 

Back to plan B. I started screaming again. 

My voice had almost given out when Ty looked down from the cliff edge. 

"Hang on!"

"Duh!"

He vanished for a minute before a rope fell down beside me. He followed quickly behind it, using the rope to lower himself until his feet found purchase against the side. I'd never been rappelling or rock climbing before, but I'd seen others rappelling before. Thank God.

He quickly slid down to my level and did something at his waist to lock himself in place. "Don't let go," he commanded. He quickly tied another rope around my waist and snapped a metal clip to join us together. 

"There," he said, holding me as I started shaking. "Are you okay?"




A Touch of Death Ch. 11



"I'm better than I was a minute ago," I said, forcing myself not to cry. It wasn't safe yet. We had to get out of here.

"I'm going to pull us up. Just hold on to me."

I laid a grip on him that would've made a professional wrestler proud. My boot didn't want to come loose at first but it finally popped free. It was all I could do to keep myself from wrapping my legs around him. If we made it out of here, I silently promised that he wouldn't be disappointed at all in our after dinner conversation.

Inch by inch, he pulled us back up the cliff. The only rough part of the ascent was pulling ourselves back over the lip of stone and earth. With a strain of muscle I could feel through his shirt Ty pulled us over and to safety.

I lay on my back staring at the sky and tried to say something, anything. My throat had closed and the tears came at last. 

Ty held me as I sobbed from repressed terror. I knew he was going to chew my ass off sooner or later, but for the moment he just held me, caressing my head gently.

When my tears had run dry, I pulled back from him far enough to look into those dark eyes of his. "I screwed up. I'm sorry."

"Shh. Not now. You're alive and that's what's important."

I took a series of deep breaths and nodded. I tangled my fingers in his hair and crushed his mouth with mine. Hunger and need exploded to life inside me as I molded my body to his.

He seemed surprised at first, but he quickly took control and I found myself being kissed thoroughly and excellently. We pulled apart at last and stared at each other.

"That was... amazing," he said huskily. He reached between us. I thought he was undoing my pants and was about to regretfully push him away but he was undoing the metal latch that bound us together. 

I slid back from him and nodded. "This conversation, as much as it interests me, has to go on hold. Stanton might be warning Wallace even now. We need to get my mom."

He nodded and helped me to my feet. At first, my legs didn't want to work but after a few steps I was able to walk without support. Ty left the rope tied to a tree and grabbed his ruck sack.

"You must've been a Boy Scout. You're always prepared."

His lips curved up. "Always. This way."

He led me back through the woods, getting me totally confused about which direction we were going. It was obvious he knew, though. He never faltered or turned around. In ten minutes we were back in the clearing.

The cabin was just as I'd seen it last. The door was still open and I couldn't hear any sign but the wind and some birds.

I started to run to the door, but Ty grabbed me.

"You can follow me in." He pulled his pistol from the small of his back and flattened both of us against the side of the cabin. He tossed a small stone inside and there was no response. As quick as a striking rattlesnake, he ducked inside. I followed as quickly as I could.

The interior of the cabin could have been a poster for minimalism. It had a bed with a ratty mattress, a rough-cut table and chair, and a Franklin stove. The air had the sharp tang of gunpowder.

Ty scanned the room from beside the door before moving deeper inside. When he got to the bedside he swore and holstered his pistol. "Shit."

I stepped behind him and saw a form laying on the floor in the shadow of the bed. The only thing I could see clearly was a blood-covered hand laying limp in the edge of the light.



A Touch of Death Ch. 12



The hand belonged to Jake Wallace. He lay sprawled, very dead, beside the bed. A bullet hole made a very messy third eye in the center of his forehead.

Ty stood up and brushed his hands on his pants. "He hasn't been dead long. I'd guess he bought it just before we drove up here."

"I don't want to sound callous," I said, "but screw him. Where's my Mom?"

"Search everywhere. Look for anything that might give us a clue. Stanton didn't take her with him so she must be somewhere in the area."

The simplest explanation filled me with dread. They might have killed her and dumped her in the woods. Oh, God, please let her be okay.

Ty began searching Jake's body, a task he was welcome to, while I made a circuit of the room. There was more here than I'd seen at first glance. Some sturdy cabinets held a few chipped plates and old pans. A dark blue Igloo cooler sat in the corner. The cooler held some ice, sandwich materials, and some bottled soda. Nothing useful.

There had to be something more. There had to be! I slowly scanned the room, looking for anything. I even examined the floor for a concealed trapdoor. Nada.

Ty stood up, holding several things in his hand. "Jake had his wallet, a baggie of what looks like weed, a bong, his car keys, and a padlock key. Did you find anything?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said, frustrated. "I even looked for a trapdoor."

"I'll start a search around the perimeter. Call for the Sheriff's department. It's far too late for them to screw anything up and we can use the extra eyes. Make sure they bring an ambulance. Just in case."

"Give me your phone. I dropped mine."

He handed it over and dumped Jake's things on the table. "Someone will have to wait here for them. Since you have the phone, you're tagged."

"You had the phone before," I groused. "The damned thing probably won't have any reception anyway. And I don't want to stay in here with a dead body so just accept that I'm going out to look around, too."

The corners of his mouth inched up. "Which direction is that gorge? Can you find it again?"

I frowned and waved my hand in the general direction I thought it was. "Somewhere over there, I think. What has that got to do with anything?"

He pointed almost behind me. "It's that direction and if you can't find it, the odds are that you'll be lost in the woods inside ten minutes."

"Then it's a good thing I have your phone because I'm going anyway."

He shook his head. "I can see I need to get you a GPS tracking collar to keep a handle on you. Hell. I can't keep you here anyway so at least try to keep some kind of trail marked." He opened his backpack and pulled out a sheathed bowie knife and handed it over. "Strap this on and cut a small wedge in the trees every once in a while." He made chopping motions with his hand.

"What do I do if I find something?"

"Do what you do best: scream."

I mimicked what he said silently, sarcastically at his back as he went back out the door. I didn't scream all the time. Not even most of the time.

The cell phone had no connection so I slid it into my pocket to try again in a few minutes. Right now I needed to figure out how best to start searching the woods. Jake's scattered possessions caught my attention as I turned toward the door. I bit my lip and clenched my fist. I didn't want to lay myself open from anything connected with Jake but one of them might have a vision linked to my mother. I had to try.

I gingerly picked the objects up one at a time. One by one, I got nothing until I got to the padlock key. As soon as I touched it I was plunged into the past.

My... I really needed a word for people I occupied during these visions, especially if I was going to keep doing this. Subjects? Hosts? Hosts. That worked. My host was walking down a tunnel cut through the dirt and stone. One hand held a flashlight and the other held a revolver. In front of him, awash in the pale hand held light walked my mother and Josh Cavanaugh, their hands cupped behind their heads.

"You don't have to do this," my mother said. She was trying to sound calm, but an undercurrent of fear tinged her words.

"Quiet," my host - Jake - said. "You'll be fine once your daughter comes through. I suggest you pray real hard she doesn't try to screw me. It might be a long time in the dark if she stalls."

A bolt of pure rage shot through me. The bastard left my mother in the dark? I was suddenly glad he was dead. If he hadn't been, I might have shot him myself.

Josh whirled and his hands shot out to grab Jake, but he was too far away. Jake's revolver went off like the trumpet of doom, the gunshot magnified by the enclosed space. Josh grabbed his leg and fell backward onto the ground. Mom screamed and knelt quickly beside her injured lover.

"You bastard," she forced out between her gritted teeth. That looked to be directed at Jake, not Josh. Josh clamped his hands around a spreading blood stain on his upper left leg. Jake stepped back and aimed the light down on them. That let me see something new. A pair of metal rails in the center of the tunnel. Or, rather, I guess it was a mine.

"Naughty boy, no supper for you," Jake smirked. "Get up. Your new home is right around the corner."

"I'm not going anywhere until I put something on this," Mom said defiantly.

"Move or I shoot him again and you can wait alone in the dark."

The look she shot Jake was undiluted hatred. She helped Josh to his feet and draped his arm across her shoulders. "I need bandages, alcohol."

"You'll get what I give you and be happy to get it. Move."

With grunts of pain from Josh, the two of them hobbled forward. Jake followed them around a gentle curve in the tunnel. The shaft widened and a dark opening appeared off to the left. A side tunnel. The rails continued on down the main shaft and the new opening was closed off by an old, rusted metal grate.

"Inside," Jake said.

With the hinges groaning like a damned soul, Josh pulled the door open. The side shaft only went a couple of dozen feet before it ended in a blank wall. That created a large room that had a few old wooden crates a filthy pile of blankets lined against the rear wall. The front wall had a couple of new card tables and the model of Lake Tahoe I'd seen in Jake's house before he fled.

Jake forced them to the back of the room and pushed the door shut. He pulled a key on a string out from under his shirt and locked the lock that had been laying open in the hasp, sealing them in. He tucked the key back into his shirt. He gestured toward the tables.

"There's a duffel under the tables. There's a first aid kit inside it. There's some bottled water and old army C rations, too. I'd ration if I were you. No telling how long little Candy will take to come through."

He turned the flashlight off, plunging the mine into pitch darkness. "There's a penlight in the duffel. If you use it sparingly it might last you quite a while. If not, get used to this."

"You can't do this to us," Mom pleaded.

"Keep me," Josh said. "Let Linda go. At least take her out of here."

"Sorry sport," Jake chuckled. "She's the important one here. You're the one that I can spare."

"Then let him go," Mom said in a rush. "Please."

"Be happy you're in this together," Jake said. "If I take him out it won't be to let him loose. You two walk out together or not at all."

"Leave us more light, then."

"I don't think so," Jake purred. "I like the thought of you sitting in the dark, wondering what is sneaking up on you."

"What?" Mom sounded even more frightened.

"You know, things that scurry underground, looking for an easy meal. Rats, for one."

"Rats? No, not rats."

Oh, my God. She was terrified of mice and rats.

"Lots of rats," Jake assured her. "Pray Candy hurries along."

He turned around and used his hand on the wall to guide him around the corner before he turned the flashlight back on. Behind him, my mother started screaming and he laughed.

Inside his head, I screamed in rage. I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and strangle him slowly.

Unaware of my feelings, he walked back up the mineshaft. Another gentle turn showed some light ahead and in less than a minute he walked out of the dark and onto the side of a hill. He snapped off the light and took a deep breath. "I love being me," he said to himself.

Desperately, I searched what he saw of the forest below for any clue of where he was. The lake was visible off in the distance but that was no help.

Jake started down the hill and onto a path that wound around the hill slowly. Off to his right opened a wide gorge that ran right past the hill. I blinked my eyes, once again in the cabin.

I was halfway to Jake's body before I managed to stop myself. Kicking the crap out of him now wouldn't change a thing. I needed to get to that mine as quickly as I could.

I took a deep breath and thought furiously. He had a flashlight. Stanton hadn't been carrying it so it must be around here somewhere. Holding my breath, I went to Jake's body and started looking around. I found it under the bed, wedged up against the wall. It was on and the beam was nearly dead. Dammit!

A quick search failed to turn up any more batteries so I was just going to have to do without.

Ty's cell phone still didn't have signal when I stepped outside the cabin. I oriented myself and stared at the mountains rising from the hills above me. They were somewhere up there.

I considered and rejected calling out for Ty. He was going to be pissed, but I couldn't explain how I knew where the mine was. Well, I could but it would be too long and painful a conversation. I could imagine how he would look at me and he was the last person in the world I wanted to have measuring me for a straight jacket. I'd still have to explain, somehow. Maybe I would think of something between now and then. Maybe he wouldn't ask. Maybe I'd win the lotto.

The trip back to the gorge was easier the second time. I didn't remember to start notching the trees until I arrived at the cliff top. Yet another thing he was going to be pissed at me about.

I avoided the edge of the cliff and walked toward the mountains just inside the forest. The path widened out after about half a mile and started to wind up the side of a hill, away from the gorge. This was it. God, let this be it.

The cell phone had connection the next time I tried it, halfway up the hill. I called 911.

"911 operator. What is your emergency?"

"My name is Candice Kane and I'm up at the edge of the National Forest above Angel's Point. I need an ambulance." I gave her a concise set of directions to where the road ended.

"Are you injured?"

"There's a cabin at the end of the trail. If they go north from that, there's a trail at the top of a gorge. Turn right and follow it up the hill about half a mile to an old mine. Please hurry. A man and woman have been trapped in the mine overnight and the man has been shot in the leg."

"I'm dispatching mountain rescue. Is he conscious? Do you know who shot him?"

I couldn't very well answer those questions without finding them first. "Hello? Are you still there?"

"Ma'am, can you hear me?"

"I think I've lost signal. I'll try to call you again." I hung up the phone and slipped it in my pocket. Yet another thing for Cooper to tear me up about when he caught up with me. That jail cell was looking like a real possibility.

The trail opened up into a natural cleft that turned into a mine shaft almost immediately. It was as black as the pit of hell. The thought of rats in the dark made me shiver but I forced myself to walk into the Stygian blackness.

I immediately found the rail by tripping over it and sprawling on the rough ground. Pain shot up my abused arms but I just gritted my teeth and got back up. My fingers found the rough stone on the right side of the tunnel and I started slowly down the slope.

Should I call out? I considered and rejected doing so. I would be at the door in a couple of minutes and I didn't need to try and hold a shouted conversation while stumbling in a pit.

After what seemed like an eternity, the wall sloped away from me. I knew that meant the door was right in front of me. I felt along until I touched cold metal.

"Mom?" My voice sounded hoarse and sharp in my ears.

"Candy?" She answered. "Baby! You found us! Josh is in here. He's been shot! Do you have a light? He won't answer me."

"Hang on." I fumbled to mate the key and the lock, but finally managed to unlock and open the door with a screech that sounded even louder in person.

"I don't have a light. Talk me over."

I heard her climbing to her feet and followed the sound of her voice until my hands touched hers. We hugged each other for a moment. I thought she was going to cry, but she pulled herself together with an audible effort.

"Help me pick Josh up."

Josh was breathing, thank God, but his heartbeat was fast and weak. Time to step up to the plate and do what had to be done. He wasn't a small man, but we got his arms over our shoulders and supported his weight between us. I didn't think I could move, but I forced myself to take one step after another. In stages, we dragged Josh up the tunnel until we emerged into the sunlight. The two of them were filthy. That couldn't be good for a wound.

Gently, we lowered him to the ground. Blood soaked his pants leg. Some was old, but not all. Mom tore his pants open and revealed a bloody bandage that wasn't stopping the blood any more.

I ripped off my shirt and handed it to Mom. It was far from clean but it was cleaner than anything else we had. She shook it out and folded it into a rough bandage which she pressed on the wound. Then she started to cry.

"Oh, God..."

I held her face in my hands. "He's going to be okay. I already called for help. They'll be here soon." I hoped I wasn't lying.

"Josh and I were in the parking lot at the Lodge. This man just pointed a gun at us and forced us into his car. Right there where anyone could have seen him." She swallowed harshly. I wish I'd thought to bring up some water.

"It must've been the man that shot at you," she continued. "Josh tried to stop him from locking us down there and he shot him."

I kissed her cheek. "He's not going to hurt anyone ever again. Hold together. Josh needs you. I'm going to try and get a signal and call 911 again."

She nodded jerkily and focused herself on Josh. The pain, concern, and love radiated from her like heat from a stove. He would keep her from falling apart, for now.

The phone still hadn't picked up any signal strength by the time I walked halfway down the hill, but it didn't matter. Just coming out from the forest below me was a group of men. EMTs and mountain rescue, from their gear. And leading the way, his face set with determination, was Ty.

I was so dead.

I waved at them, shouting out that Mom and Josh were up the path. Ty broke into a run and beat them to me by fifty feet. He snatched me off my feet and into a fierce hug. I didn't want to cry, but I couldn't help myself. I was such a girl.

"You are in so much trouble," he murmured in my ear as the rescue team swarmed past me and up the hill. "Can you do anything you're told?"

"No," I sobbed.

He laughed and cradled me in his arms. "Of course not. It's a good thing you're cute. Come on, let's get you into something a little less revealing."

I frowned at him for a moment before I realized what he meant. I'd been standing out in front of everybody in a scrap of cloth that barely counted as a bra. I flushed and started laughing. I didn't even try to stop as he covered me in his shirt. It had been that kind of day.

* * * * *

They stabilized Josh and called for Life Flight. Inside twenty minutes a helicopter landed at the base of the hill and the rescue folks hustled Josh inside. It promptly lifted off and arrowed south toward Stateline.

Mom and I were cleaned up and helped down the hill and back to the cabin, with her on a stretcher. Just in time to meet Deputy Cooper and his fellow Deputies. With an expression as dark as a thundercloud, he descended on me.

"You're just trying to piss me off, aren't you," he demanded.

"Back off," Ty said, his expression grim. "You got to get in line to be pissed off at her. I'm number one, got it?"

Cooper's lips curled up with dark humor. "So that's the way it is? Fine, but you better do a right proper job, boy, or I'll toss your ass in a cell right next to her. Now what the hell is going on here and why the fuck didn't you call me?"

"Are you going to lock me up?" I asked suspiciously.

"Don't tempt me. Start talking and don't stop until you tell me everything."

I sighed and slumped a little. "It's a long story."

"I've got all day," Cooper said. "Milbank, take Walker here off and get his statement. See that Mrs. Kane gets an escort to the ambulance and take her statement, too."

Ty gave me a hug, but no sympathy, before he let Andy lead him away. The EMTs took Mom down the path without me. I longed to go after her, but I couldn't.

"What about me?" I asked indignantly.

"I might - might! - let you go if I'm satisfied I've wrung the entire story out of you. Not one second earlier. Talk."

I gritted my teeth and counted to ten. Twice.

"Fine. Shall we start with Jake Wallace?"

"If he's responsible, yes."

I pointed at the cabin. "He's in there, shot dead."

Cooper's eyebrows crawled up his forehead. He pointed at one of the other Deputies. "Secure that building." The man headed off with a nod as Cooper's attention returned to me.

"You're like a bad luck charm," he ground out between his clenched teeth. "This has to do with all the gold down on the Tahoe, doesn't it? And both the dead man with it and Armstrong."

"How do you know about that," I asked, astonished.

"Damien Manchester called me about an hour ago and filled me in," he glowered. "Like you should have. Though he left out that little fact your mother had been kidnapped. What were you thinking?" He held up a hand. "Never mind. You weren't thinking. Who shot Wallace?" His eyes strayed to where Ty was being questioned by Andy.

"Not Ty," I said quickly. "I think it was Edward Stanton."

He had someone find me something to sit on and ran me through everything again and again. We kept going back over everything until I thought my brain would run out my ears. It was almost dark by the time he relented and allowed Ty to take me away from this place.

* * * * *

Ty drove us to the hospital in Stateline and I went in search of my mother. I found her in a private room guarded by a police officer that didn't want to let me in. Ty pulled me back a little when I growled at the offending minion of the Law.

"Down, Tiger," Ty said. "Who do we go through to get her cleared in, officer?"

The officer examined my ID and grudgingly let me in. Alone.

A nurse was checking a hanging bag of fluids and my Mom was asleep.

"Is she okay?" I asked quietly.

"The doctor just wanted to keep her overnight. I gave her something to make her rest. She wouldn't stop pestering us about her son and the doctor said she needed to sleep."

I repressed a smile. "That's, ah, her boyfriend. How is he?"

Her eyes widened and she looked back at my mother. "She's got that young thing on the string? Hot damn! Ahh, he's in intensive care but the doctor is optimistic. He was awake by the time the helicopter got here." She checked her watch. "You can have five minutes but please let her sleep."

I sat beside the bed as the nurse bustled out. Mom looked so tired, so alone. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I held her hand for a few minutes and then slipped out quietly. I'd be back first thing in the morning.

Ty broke off his conversation with the policeman when I came out. "How is she?" he asked.




A Touch of Death Ch. 12



I tried to answer him, but my throat seemed to swell closed. He pulled me into his arms as all the stress came flowing out and I cried. He didn't say anything, he just held me until I cried myself out.

"You need rest," he finally said. "We'll get a room nearby, put some food in you, and put you to bed. Morning is early enough to be back here." His tone brooked no argument. Still, I think he was surprised when I gave in without argument.

The drive to the hotel was a blur, as my exhaustion had finally caught up with me. I stumbled up to the room and begged off on eating until morning. Ty left me alone in the bathroom to take a hot shower.

The hot water was heaven. I washed my hair and lathered up my tired muscles slowly. When I finally felt clean, I sat down on the floor of the tub to let the hot water wash over my back.

I must have fallen asleep, because a knock on the door woke me up.

"You okay in there?"

"Fine," I said. "I'll be right out."

My nap had given me a temporary boost of energy. I turned off the water and dried myself off with a fluffy towel. I tied it around my hair and wrapped a second towel around me before going back into the bedroom.

Ty had a small cart with some hot sandwiches set up at the table. He had changed into a clean tee shirt and shorts. A matching set lay on the covers of the bed. 

"I figured you'd want some food, no matter how tired you were. The clothes were all I could turn up on short notice." 

The shorts had a tendency to slip down on my hips and the shirt was tight across my chest. All in all, I didn't think he minded.

We ate in relative silence and I felt warm and cozy at the way his eyes kept sliding off my face. I promised myself that he would get his reward for being such a good boy tomorrow morning. 

By the end of the meal, my exhaustion had returned with friends. I tried to clean up the table but he led me to the bed, instead. I didn't resist at all as he slid under the covers with me and spooned against my back. I reveled in the sensation for the entire ten seconds it took me to fall dead asleep. 



A Touch of Death Ch. 13



Any hopes and plans I'd had for the next morning didn't survive once someone started pounding on the front door. I shot straight up out of a deep sleep and fell off the bed. I lay on the floor, blinking at the ceiling in confusion until Ty slipped out of bed much more smoothly than I had and helped me up.

"Have I mentioned how graceful you are?" he asked with a sly grin.

"I'm not human before coffee," I protested weakly. "Who the hell even knows where we are?"

"I left word at the hospital." He peered out the peep hole. "I think it's your brother."

I mentally kissed my plans for morning sex goodbye. Say what you like about Frank, he was constant. He always seemed to turn up when I had intimate plans. Except, of course, when it had been Calvin. The fates hated me.

Frank rushed in the moment Ty opened the door. My brother didn't walk. He wasn't patient enough for something that slow. "I just came from the hospital but they wouldn't let me in. Are you okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he crushed me to him in a powerful hug.

"I'm fine," I protested. "But I can't breathe like this."

Ty closed the door and nodded at Frank. "Candy, I picked up some tooth brushes and stuff. I left them on the bathroom counter. You might want to straighten up a little."

Frank seemed to be surprised to see Ty. He frowned and his eyes darted between the two of us, his eyebrows slowly rising. "Oh! Ah, I had no idea. Do I know you?" he asked Ty. "Candy seems to have forgotten to mention you."

"Don't worry. I'm just a guy she picked up last night."

Frank's mouth dropped open and I couldn't stop a bark of laughter from escaping my lips. "That's right, Frank. He was just leaving." I lifted my chin at Ty. "The tip is on the nightstand. Leave a card and maybe I'll call you again."

I turned my back to their flabbergasted faces and closed the bathroom door with what dignity I could manage. One look in the mirror told me what I already suspected. I looked very rumpled. My clothes were half askew and my hair would frighten the Bride of Frankenstein. I might not have had wild monkey sex this morning, but I sure looked like I had.

A quick, hot shower made me feel more human. A few minutes of hair care made me look more human. I eyed the wrinkled clothes. I needed something clean I could go out in, but they would have to do for the moment.

Ty and Frank were sitting at the table when I came out.

"Are you still here?" I asked Ty.

"I don't think you've gotten your money's worth, yet," he smirked. "Besides, Frank was just telling me the most interesting story about your senior homecoming."

I scowled at Frank. "Talk and die, string bean. You've been warned." I pulled an empty bag from inside the trashcan and put my filthy clothes inside it. "I need some clean clothes before I go to the hospital."

They rose from their seats. Ty put his clothes with mine, minus his wallet, keys, and gun. Those he slipped into my purse. They barely fit with all my junk.

"We can stop by someplace on the way and get something," Ty said. "Then we can get some food. I feel like something a bit more substantial than the buffet here."

"I'll follow you, then," Frank said. "I want to know exactly what happened before we get to the hospital."

* * * * *

I picked up a cheap pair of jeans and a dark blouse. Ty found black jeans and a tight, dark blue tee shirt that made me regret Frank's early arrival all over again.

We followed Frank to one of those pancake places. The waitress took our order and left us with steaming cups of coffee.

"Now, tell me everything," Frank said, eying me over the rim of his cup. "And make it good."

I sighed, glanced at Ty, and told him the public version. Judging from the redness of his neck, his blood pressure was slowly rising as I spoke. By the time I was done, he was brick red.

"Are you insane?" he asked when I finished. "You have absolutely no business getting involved in something like this. You could've been killed. Mom could've been killed. He waved his cup around, sloshing coffee on the table. "Hell, you could've gotten half-a-dozen people killed! What were you thinking?"

I shrugged while he patted the coffee off the table. What could I say? He was right. "I did what I thought I needed to. I'm sorry this happened. I should've seen that, so you're absolutely right."

That seemed to throw him off stride. He frowned at me. "What did you say?" He turned to Ty. "Did I just hear her tell me I'm right about something?"

I gave him a flat stare. "Don't push your luck, smart ass. If I knew what was going to happen, I'd have done things differently. At least with everything about the murders and gold out in the open he has no more reason to bother us."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Really? What about that old standby, revenge?"

"Sticking around at this point would be crazy," I said.

"So is killing and kidnapping people," he shot back.

"This is all spilled milk," Ty said as the waitress arrived with our food. "Rather than looking back, we need to be looking forward. How can we minimize the chances of more bad things happening?"

"Lock Candy in the storeroom at the lodge?" Frank asked.

"Very funny." I dug into my food and discovered I was starving. "I'm not worried about myself, but I'm worried about Mom. She needs to stay somewhere until the police track Stanton down."

"I disagree," Ty said, pointing his fork at me. "You're more at risk than your mother. By all means, have Frank stash her somewhere, but you're not going anywhere without me. There is no way that nut is getting another shot at you without me there."

"Weren't you right there with her during all of this?" Frank asked.

"That doesn't count," Ty said, taking a big bite of his pancakes. "I didn't realize just how dangerous she was back then. Now I know to watch out."

"I am not a trouble magnet," I protested. Neither of them even bothered to argue with me, like it should've been self-evident.

"I'll run herd on Mom," Frank said, as if I'd never spoken. "I know some out of the way places that we can stay for a few days."

"She's not leaving Josh," I said with a shake of my head. "No way. You'll need to work inside the hospital."

Frank frowned. "Josh? I have no idea what you're talking about."

I mentally bit my tongue. Dammit.

"Josh Cavanaugh," Ty said while I dithered and searched for a good answer to Frank's question. "Your Mom's boy toy."

I'm not sure who looked at him more aghast, me or Frank. "Ty! I can't believe you just did that!"

"Boy toy?" Frank asked. "Someone better trot out an explanation right now."

Ty smiled at me silently, the rat.

"Fine," I huffed. "Mom's been seeing someone. You know, dating. I thought I mentioned him when I told you about the kidnapping. He was with Mom at the mine and got shot. He's in intensive care. She won't want to leave the hospital."

"You somehow left that out," Frank said dryly. "An oversight, I'm sure. Well, if he took a bullet for Mom, he can't be too bad."

"He seems like a good guy," I agreed. "I didn't want to tell you about him until she was more comfortable in the relationship. Besides, I only found out about them in the last couple of days."

Frank looked at me warily. "Boy toy. Forty-five, forty?"

I let my breath out in a slow stream. "Ah, well, no. He's a bit younger than that. Twenty six."

Frank dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter, sending pancake and syrup flying onto his shirt. "Jesus! He's younger than me! Is she crazy?"

I leveled a finger at him and glared. "Frank Alan Kane, you will not make a big deal out of this. You can rant at me all you want. You can go kick cans and throw rocks. What you can't do is have a cow in front of Mom. If you make her feel self-conscious and ruin this, she may go back inside her shell. Do you understand me?"

Frank twisted his mouth sullenly. "That's not playing fair."

"What's more important to you? Mom or your self-righteous anger?"

He started trying to clean his shirt with a napkin, a chore that looked to be doomed to failure. "Okay. I'm not happy about this and I'm not making any promises but I will keep my opinion to myself for now."

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Thank you."

Ty's cell phone rang and he handed it to me after answering it. 

Who would be calling me on his cell? The hospital? My heart sped up in panic. "Hello?"

"Candy? This is Ginger Armstrong. I just heard about your mom. Is she okay? Are you?"

"You scared me to death! I thought it was the hospital calling. We're both fine, but Mom's boyfriend is in intensive care."

"You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get his number. I had to track down Damien Manchester to get it. I should've known this was too dangerous. I want you to stop."

I laughed without humor. "It's a little late to back out now. I'm committed. Look, my brother is here now and he'll go sit with Mom. I need to come over and tell you what I've found out."

"Is it safe?"

"The police are on the alert now. I hope that means Stanton is holed up or running."

"Stanton?" Her voice rose an octave. "Is it him? He killed my brother?"

"I'll tell you in person. Say half an hour?"

"Meet me at Steven's place." She rattled off an address in an affluent neighborhood on the lake shore. "I have some stuff to show you, but nothing like what you found out. Be careful."

I closed the cell and handed it back to Ty. "I need to go see Ginger Armstrong. She deserves to know what we found out. Why don't you go to the hospital with Frank and stay with Mom?"

Ty smiled and shook his head. "If you think I'm letting you out of my sight, you're crazy. I'm your shadow until this is done."

"Both my Mom and my sister get boyfriends and I can't find a girlfriend to save my life," Frank sighed. "There's a police guard at the hospital. I think we should all stay together and go to the hospital after Candy sees her friend."

"Then finish eating," Ty commanded. "You never know when you need every bit of energy around Candy."

"Smart ass," I grouched. My annoyance didn't keep me from cleaning my plate. After all, you never know.

* * * * *

Steven Armstrong's house was even more of a mansion than Edward Stanton's place. Three stories tall, made of carved stone and glass, it was elegant instead of gaudy. Classy. It didn't pretend to be the home of a wealthy man, it just was.

We pulled into the driveway and walked up to the dark, polished front door. Ginger answered on the first knock. She must've been camped out next to the front door.

She yanked me into an unexpected embrace. "This was such a bad idea. I wish I'd never asked you to do this."

Her fervor surprised me, but I hugged her back. "If wishes were horses, we'd all be hip deep in horse crap. I'll be fine." I stepped back. "You know Tyrone Walker. Let me introduce my brother Frank. Frank, this is Ginger Armstrong."

Frank shook her hand, holding on for just a moment longer than was strictly proper. He looked like someone had hit him over the head with a club. "I... My pleasure to meet you."

Ginger's eyes twinkled but she didn't otherwise show she noticed his reaction. "Why don't the three of you come in and join us? I have some tea out on the patio."

"Us?" Ty asked as we stepped inside.

The foyer was dominated by dark, polished wood and a marble floor. Unlike the inside of the Stanton home, this was subdued and rich in a way that didn't offend the senses. The staircase leading to the upper stories was solid oak, curved and smooth. It made me want to run my fingers along the rail. Other antique pieces of furniture were scattered about, not dominating the room but accenting it.

Ginger pulled me by the hand past the wonderful staircase and into a hall. Other rooms filled with dark leather seats and more wooden furniture passed by to either side.

"Damien Manchester is here. He insisted on coming over after I called him looking for you." She shook her head. "He told me some of what had happened and I freaked."

I shrugged. "I need to fill him in anyway. Steven was his partner, so the two of you deserve to know the whole truth. This is as good a time as any to fill you in on what I've found out."

The hall opened into a huge kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and vast marble counter tops. Like just about any woman on the face of the planet, I fell instantly in love with it. It was only with great reluctance that I let Ginger drag me out onto the patio.

The flagstone covered area directly behind the house was surrounded by a gleaming wood railing on all three of the open sides and by thick shrubs to both sides, restricting the view to the lake. It stretched off to the distant mountains in placid splendor.

Damien rose from the table he was sitting at as we came out the back door. "I'm glad to see you in one piece, Candy. Ty." He raised an eyebrow at Frank and I repeated the introductions. Ginger got frosted glasses of tea for us from the kitchen and we sat down.

Hopefully for the last time, I ran through the public story again. Ginger looked shocked at how my mother had been treated. Damien and Frank looked at me with barely controlled fury. Ty's eyes narrowed but his controlled face didn't let through what he was thinking. I hoped I hadn't slipped up somewhere.

Damien took a deep swallow of his tea before reaching into his jacket. "That matches up with something I found this morning." He pulled an unmarked envelope from an inside pocket and handed it to me. "I found this in Steven's office on the Aztec Warrior. It was stuffed under some papers in his desk."

I pulled the single folded page of notebook paper out and shook it open. It was a brief, handwritten note. It wasn't addressed to anyone or signed either.

Raising that ship is dangerous. Accidents happen. Don't make one happen to you. A permanent one. This is your last warning. Cancel your plans publicly tonight or suffer the consequences.

"Bets that it ends up matching the handwriting of one of our bad guys?" Damien asked, almost challenging us to deny the possibility.

It did look like the notes of Jake's that I'd read, but I was no expert. It might be someone else. That was for the police to decide. If it matched, then that was another nail in their collective coffin. If not, it was a lead to the real killer.

I looked up at Damien as a thought hit me. "Crap. We shouldn't have touched this. There might have been fingerprints or DNA on it." I quickly slipped it back into the envelope as he grimaced.

"I didn't think of that," he admitted. "Still, what kind of moron wouldn't use gloves or something?"

"The kind that sends a hand-written note?" Ty interjected dryly. "Still, they can probably exclude the two of you just like they would have to exclude Steven. That will leave them with something." He smiled at me. "Not to say that will save Candy from another ass chewing from Deputy Cooper."

My eyes involuntarily rolled up into my head. "Please. Like he needs an excuse."

Ginger stood up. "I found something, too. It isn't much and it seems unneeded, but I should show you."

We followed her into the living room. I set my glass onto one of the table protectors while she retrieved a small jewelry box from the end table.

"This looked out of place, with the ladies jewelry," Ginger said. "These and the clothes prove there was a woman, but that doesn't seem to matter now."

She handed me the box and I opened the lid. It contained a few strands of gold and something silver under the tangle.

I was about to spread them on the coffee table when movement at the door caught my attention. Edward Stanton stepped in from the hall, a sleek, black pistol covering us all.

"Hands out where I can see them," he snarled.

I dropped the jewelry case and gold and silver scattered to the floor at my feet. Oh, crap! How the hell did he find us?

My clatter was not the only noise. Ginger dropped her glass of tea and it shattered, spilling tea all over the end table. For their part, the three men with us raised their hands as they were told.

"You can't get away with this anymore," I said. My voice didn't sound nearly as shaky as I felt. "The police are on to you."

"And whose fault is that," he growled. "Jesus, you're like the terminator. Nothing stops you."

"I'd have gotten away with this if it hadn't been for those meddling kids," Ty mocked from his seat.

The gun swiveled to point directly at him. "Don't push me smart ass. This isn't Scooby Do and I owe you bastards. One way or another, I'm ending this right here, right now."

The expensive lamp next to Damien crashed to the floor in the sudden silence, causing Stanton to jerk his pistol to cover him. Ty exploded from his seat the moment the gun was off him and suddenly everyone was moving and everything was happening at once.

Damien heaved himself out of his chair and to the side as Stanton's gun went off like a canon. Ginger shrieked as Frank leapt on top of her, knocking the chair over and shielding her with his body. I snatched my tea and hurled the glass at him.

I missed, of course.

Stanton was already throwing himself to the side and shooting at us as fast as he could pull the trigger. The window behind me shattered and I dropped for the floor. Ty opened fire before I hit.

I huddled on the floor, waiting for the sharp pain of a gunshot but silence had descended on the room. Well, there might have been some noise but my ears were ringing so I might be forgiven for missing it. I peeked up to see what was happening.

Stanton lay twisted on the floor, his face covered in blood. Ty covered him with his pistol as Damien took our attacker's pistol and checked his neck. Damien shook his head and stood up.

Ty set his pistol on the coffee table and helped me up. The room was a shambles. Broken glass and splintered furniture was everywhere. The sharp smell of burnt gunpowder hung in the air along with another scent. A metallic tang like iron. Blood.

"I need some help over here," Ginger said. She knelt beside Frank, who was sitting on the floor with his back against her overturned chair. He was holding his left forearm tightly and grimacing in pain. Blood dripped down his arm in spite of the pressure on his arm.

Damien pulled out his cell and started dialing while I ran in search of a towel. I found plenty in the kitchen and rushed back to my brother's side.

They'd moved him to the couch and Ty was providing the pressure. Ginger hovered beside them, distraught. Ty took the towel from me and wrapped it around Frank's arm. The gunshot was an ugly wound, bleeding freely.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Ty said. "It's not arterial and as long as we keep pressure on it he'll be fine."

"He was going to shoot me," Ginger said to Frank. "He would have killed me if you hadn't got between us."

"It seemed like the right thing to do," Frank said with an expression that was half grimace and half smile. "I was moving before I thought about it. Even getting shot, I'd do it again."

Ginger's face lit up with a smile. I didn't think my brother was going to be worried about lacking a girlfriend much longer.

"EMS is on the way," Damien said, snapping his phone closed. "Is everyone else okay?"

I nodded mutely. I couldn't believe how fast things had gone to hell. Now another man was dead. Would this nightmare never end? At least all this bloodshed was at an end.

Wearily, I sat on the floor and grabbed the jewelry that had tumbled to the now-ruined white carpet. I was sure that blood wouldn't come out easily.

My hand tingled and I had a moment to curse myself for not thinking. I plunged into a vision right in front of God and everyone.

My host, a man by his hand, was sitting on a boat that bobbed gently in the middle of the lake. The mountains excluded every other lake it might have been. His hand was tanned, the nails trimmed neatly.




A Touch of Death Ch. 13



In his hand he held a heart-shaped friendship pendant with two silver chains. He drew a wavy line in blue ink across it and snapped it in two. He looked up and handed one of them to the woman sitting across from him.

It was Elsa Manchester. A nude Elsa, and not at all pale. Her skin glowed with health, or perhaps arousal. She looked like a woman that had just had a good tumble in the sheets.

"When you wonder if you can make it," my host said, "hold this and remember our love for each other." The voice was familiar. I'd heard it at the start of this adventure. Steven Armstrong, the murder victim.

Elsa's eyes lit up like Ginger's had a minute earlier. "I love you."

The vision dissolved and everyone was staring at me. Including, the cuckolded husband, Damien Manchester. Who was staring at me incredulously, Edward Stanton's pistol still in his hand.

"Well, hell," he said. His hand snapped up and the pistol smashed against Ty's head. Ty went down bonelessly, knocked right out.

I guess that settled the question of who the killer was. No wonder Elsa had looked like death warmed over. Her lover had just died. I grabbed Ty's pistol from the table and turned it on Damien.

"Drop it," I said. "Don't make me shoot you."

He smiled and stepped back, aligning his pistol with my head. "I don't know how you knew that was Elsa's." 

Great. I must've called out her name. He already knew this was Steven's so I'd just let the cat out of the bag.

"You've never shot a gun before, remember?" Damien continued. "You told me that yourself. Ty put that back on safe before he set it down. Do you really think you can figure it out before I shoot you? Put it down."

"So you can do what?" I asked, not lowering my wavering aim. "I don't see you letting us go."

"I don't understand," Ginger said and she picked up where Ty had been holding down the makeshift bandage.

"I just can't understand you," Damien said ruefully, ignoring her. "You just wouldn't stop. Even after I tracked down Jake Wallace and took him out of the picture. What is with you? How the hell did you know?"

"You made him write that note, didn't you? To cover your own tracks. Steven was sleeping with your wife and you killed him. Then you needed a scapegoat like Jake."

Damien shook his head. "Jake and Edward were in their own scheme. I had nothing to do with it and I didn't know anything about the gold until you found it. Steven... Yes. It doesn't matter now. I found out and I confronted him."

Ty moaned and twitched, but I didn't look away from Damien.

"On the dock," I said. "You smashed his head into the piling and killed him. Does Elsa know you killed her lover?"

"I didn't go out there to kill him," Damien said, his voice going flat. "It just happened so fast. I didn't mean to kill him but he took what was mine. She thinks it was an accident. Now she'll think Jake Wallace did it. One way or the other, she'll get over it."

"Put the gun down," Frank said. "You don't have to keep killing. It's over."

"Shut up," Damien said, his voice firming up. "Don't be stupid. It's far too late for that now. I've already killed one man to keep this a secret and now you force me to kill more." He gestured at Stanton's body. "He came in, angry. He started shooting and killed you all. Ty managed to shoot him before he died. I was the only survivor. I'll be traumatized by the time the police get here." 

"You already told them Frank was alive," I pointed out.

"Sorry," he said with a dry smile. "I just told them there had been a shooting and they needed to send an ambulance. Say goodbye to your lover, Candy."

He had let his aim drift lower until he was half-way aiming at the floor. I had time to do something, but only if I acted right now.

I heard Ty's father whispering in my ear. "Put the dot on the target and between the sight posts." I lined up the pistol and snapped the safety off. I cocked the hammer back with my thumb. Time seemed to be flowing like molasses. Damien's gun was coming back up, slowly, so slowly. Ty's father continued. "Squeeze the trigger slowly. Let the shot come as a surprise to you. That's the only way to not jerk the barrel up and miss."

The pistol exploded in my hand and Damien stared at me in shock. I thought the recoil was going to yank it from my grip but I managed to hang on. For a moment, we stood there staring at one another and then he dropped the pistol and fell down sideways. A stain of blood was spreading across his chest.

Before, I'd only thought my ears were ringing. Now I could hardly hear. I kept pointing the pistol at Damien, waiting for him to move.

"If I shoot a man, I shoot to kill," I said, apropos to nothing, repeating what Ty had told his father in my vision.

I stood there pointing the gun at him until Ty pulled it out of my hand and bundled me in his arms. Then I sobbed my relief into his shoulder.

The nightmare was finally over.



A Touch of Death Ch. 14



Epilogue

Of course it wasn't really over. The police and EMTs swarmed us within minutes of Ginger's call about shots and dead men. Frank was treated and hauled away, lights flashing and sirens screaming.

They separated the rest of us and started grilling. Cooper arrived when I was into the third repetition and took charge. By the time he was done with me, he made sure I regretted leaving him out of the loop. The only upside to his tongue lashing was that he let me know the grand jury was unlikely to indict us, since there were enough witnesses to the self-defense aspect of the shootings.

I didn't get to see anything of Ty for almost a week after the shooting. Cooper dragged him off to the recovery ship and kept him there until the wreck was raised. He wanted that gold and the body recovered before anyone else did anything stupid. I couldn't really blame him, even though that did screw up my plans and my hormones.

Frank was quickly stabilized and pretty soon sharing a room with Josh, when they let him out of intensive care. The two of them amused themselves by telling anyone that came in how dangerous it was to know me. The rats.

Mom was a fixture at Josh's side and, as I guessed, Ginger was around Frank an awful lot. Frank, while grateful for her attention, seemed oblivious to the more subtle signals her presence was sending him. He was going to be in for quite a shock when she finally let him in on their relationship.

Being around two women focused on their men made me cranky. Ginger's suggestion on how to make the problem more bearable made me laugh and blush. She only grinned and called it "professional counseling."

The Sheriff's Department used the next week well, completely going over Stanton and Damien's holdings and the cabin area where Jake had been killed. They recovered the matching pendant from the yacht and got a confession from a doubly devastated Elsa Manchester about her affair with Steven. I felt badly for her, even if she had been cheating on her husband.

Of that, there was no evidence but our witness statements. He didn't leave any incriminating evidence or notes. If he hadn't panicked at the last, my seeing him as the killer would've been the only indication of his guilt. If he'd have bluffed it out, he would probably have skated free.

Elsa didn't doubt he did it, though. She was shocked and hurt, but unsurprised.

On the other hand, Edward Stanton's wife was screaming his innocence from every tree top she could find. The evidence the police dug up from Stanton's home office told a different tale, but that didn't seem to deter her one bit.

Stanton and Jake had gone so far as to draw up a contract on how the gold was to be split when they recovered it. Stanton, it turned out, was planning to bring in divers of his own when they ran Damien Manchester off. It wasn't clear how they had determined the gold was on the wreck. Probably through Jake, since there were piles of notes on his missing grandfather. DNA testing might eventually identify the bones as a relative of his some day.

As for the gold, God only knew who was going to be the last to try and lay claim to it. People were coming out of the woodwork to try for a share. Frankly, I was glad it was someone else's problem.

I had enough of my own. Not only was the story of my Mom's dating all over town, Stanton's widow was filing suit for everything from defamation to murder against all of us, including the late Damien. So were Calvin and Dora, at least for defamation. I told their attorney that anything I could possibly have said or inferred was no doubt better than the truth. That didn't seem to help.

At the end of the stressful week, I was sitting on the back patio of the Lodge, looking out on the lake in the quiet hour just before dark when Ty came through the door and plopped down on the seat next to me.

I smiled and turned to face him. "Hey, stranger! All done out on the lake?"

"Deputy Cooper is stubborn," he said with a quirked smile. "He wasn't letting anyone go until he had it up. The ship is on the surface and he will get it all out as soon as they have it stabilized. My job is done, which brings me back to you."

A thrill ran up my spine. I liked the sound of that. My smile widened. "Tell me more!"

He leaned forward until his eyes were less than a foot away from mine. "First, tell me what really happened this last week. You may have everyone else snowed but you're hiding something."

My stomach fell like a lead balloon. "I have no idea what you mean," I squeaked. Dammit, even I thought I sounded like a liar.

He smiled smugly. "Oh, I think you do. I have no idea how you figured out where your mother was hidden, with Jake dead, or how you knew Armstrong was cheating with Elsa, but you did. One way or another, I'll eventually get to the bottom of what's really going on."

I pasted on a sickly smile. "I don't suppose you'll take women's intuition as an answer."

He shook his head. "Nope, but you don't need to freak out about it right now. I have a plan."

"What plan," I asked suspiciously. 

"I'm going to take you away from here, on a long cruise to the Caribbean," he said. "I figure a few weeks without people trying to kill us, with days full of different sights and nights full of passionate lovemaking will wear you down."

My libido wasted no time in agreeing wholeheartedly with his plan. The rest of me wasn't so sure.

"And if I don't want to go on a cruise?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He leaned back and grinned. "Then I make you go on triple dates with your Mom and Frank."

"Well," I laughed, "that's a stark set of choices. What can I say?"

"Say yes, Candy," he said in a low, sexy voice.

"Yes, Candy."

The End