Stormcatcher (6 page)

W
ynne swung lazily on the porch and watched the stars come out. She saw a sweep of headlights, then an unfamiliar truck stopped. She recognized Simon as he got out. The surge of excitement that swept through her took her aback. Maybe Jake knew her better than she knew herself.

Simon smiled when he saw her. “I just stopped by to tell you I found Old Robert.”

“Old Robert?”

“The Ojibwa fisherman you talked to. I think he knows something, but he’s not telling.”

“You talked to him? What if you made him mad and he comes looking for me because I blabbed?” Wynne wouldn’t want to face the old fisherman on a dark night. She shivered.

Simon took her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

It was hard to think with his strong fingers holding hers. “Someone on this island is.”

“I want to believe the boat was faulty.”

Wynne’s words dried on her tongue as they stared at one another a moment. “But you don’t think so, not really.”

“We’ve got to find that yacht.”

“We can hit it fresh tomorrow.” Her earlier doubts swept away. She could trust this man. The crunch of gravel caught her attention, and she turned to see a big luxury car stopping in front of the manor.

A short, heavyset man dressed in neatly pressed slacks got out. The scowl on his face deepened when he saw them. “I thought that was your truck, Lassiter,” he growled.

Feeling Simon’s tension, Wynne glanced up into his face. His grip on her fingers had tightened to a painful squeeze.

“Roger, what are you doing here?” he said through tight lips.

Roger. Wasn’t that the name of the manager who had been fired just before the boat went down? Wynne’s curiosity kicked into gear. She gave a tentative smile, but the angry man didn’t notice. He continued to glare at Simon.

“I’ve been looking for you. You sicced the law on me. I told the sheriff you were just trying to throw suspicion off yourself.” Roger smiled grimly. “I think he believed me.”

“I didn’t tell the sheriff anything about you.” Simon’s tone was cool.

Roger gave a snort. “Yeah, and I believe that about
as quick as I’d believe I could drive this car across Lake Superior. You’ve had it in for me since day one, haven’t you?”

“I didn’t make you embezzle the money, Roger.”

Roger winced. “I was going to pay it back!”

“How?”

Roger just scowled. “My business is doing just fine. If you’d just been patient, I could have paid you back.”

Simon pushed on relentlessly. “You still can. Did you hope the fire would kill Jerry? When it didn’t, maybe you decided a boat accident would be a safer choice.”

Roger was shaking his head before Simon finished talking. Wynne didn’t know what to think. Roger seemed full of anger, but it was more a righteous indignation at the thought that someone suspected him of murder.

“I should have known better than to try to talk to you,” Roger said bitterly. He got in his car and slammed the door. The engine roared to life, and gravel kicked from under the tires as he sped away.

Wynne felt shaken though it wasn’t even her problem. She suddenly realized she had Simon’s fingers in a death grip. She’d held onto him through the entire confrontation.

He didn’t seem to mind.

Returning the pressure of his fingers, she smiled up at him. “I feel like we just lived through a waterspout.”

“And that describes Roger. He’s all blow.” Simon stood looking down into her eyes.

A shiver started at the base of her neck and worked its way down her spine as she looked into his eyes. She
told herself it was just a reaction to seeing her brother and sister so happy, but deep down she knew Simon had always intrigued her.

She swallowed. “I smell tonight’s meat loaf. The least I can do is make sure you get fed tonight. Come with me.” She tugged at his hand then finally released it when they reached the front door.

“You don’t need to do that.” His protest was weak.

He followed her inside where Max and the rest of the family greeted him. Gram rose and went to him, and he kissed her cheek. “You finally decided to come home?”

“Did you miss me?” Her bright blue eyes twinkled as she looked at him.

“Always.” She took his arm, and he led her toward the dining room.

Wynne tailed behind, ashamed to notice her nose was out of joint at the way Gram hijacked Simon. But what did she expect? Him to suddenly find her overwhelmingly attractive? What a laugh. Wynne could just imagine what Amanda had been like—probably a blonde with perfectly coiffed hair, expertly applied makeup, clothing that shouted Saks and diction that betrayed her education at an Ivy League school.

He wouldn’t be interested in a bohemian type like her. She didn’t wear shoes half the time. And her education had come from a plain-Jane variety Midwestern college. The way she’d found a job in her field had more to do with her tenacity and passion than her education.

Besides, she wasn’t interested in him, so why was she piqued at his lack of interest?

Wynne resolved to catch up with Becca and forget what the handsome Simon was up to. She moved beside her sister. Isabelle began to fuss.

“I’ll take her,” Gram said. “I’m not hungry anyway. You young ones get started, and I’ll join you as soon as I get the baby settled down.”

Before Wynne realized what was happening, she found herself herded by Becca toward the seat Gram had vacated next to Simon. Becca had a self-satisfied look on her face as she grabbed the back of the chair across the table from Wynne and pulled it out. Wynne crossed her eyes at her sister, and Becca gave a smothered giggle.

“Something wrong?”

Wynne’s face went hot as she looked up into Simon’s quizzical face. “Not at all,” she stammered.

He held out her chair and seated her. His manners were impeccable, and Wynne wondered what he’d do if she knocked over her water glass or used the wrong fork. She kept her eyes cast down toward her plate so he couldn’t see her expression. Was she being unfair? It wasn’t a crime to be well-mannered. She didn’t know what was wrong with her.

Maybe Jake was right, and this was all part of her defenses. She didn’t want to be hurt again, and Simon might be the man who could do it if she weren’t careful. Putting her napkin in her lap, she turned to Skye, who was seated on her other side. As she chatted
with her sister-in-law, she found herself listening with one ear to Simon’s conversation with Max, who was seated across the table from him.

Her hostility rose the longer his cologne wafted around her. His deep voice grated on her nerves until she thought she’d scream. He had too much money and too much polish. And if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to annoy her on purpose. Why couldn’t he hurry up and eat and get out of her hair?

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

S
imon’s steps sank into the heavy carpet as he followed his cousin down the hallway. A faint paint smell emanated from the pale taupe walls, and he figured they’d been painted over the weekend.

The secretary ushered them into a conference room, gave them coffee and discreetly left them alone.

“I don’t know what the big hurry was to read Jerry’s will,” Simon grumbled. “I’ve got more important things to do.”

“Me, too. This shouldn’t take long.” Brian took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. “Tastes like it was made this morning.”

Simon pushed his own cup away. He hated stale coffee, but he hated even more to wait. Drumming his fingers on the table, he crossed his legs.

Before he could complain again, Eric Wattrell came in. The attorney wore a black suit and pink shirt that made his cheeks look even more florid. His dark hair
was slicked back, and he wore a perpetual expression of surprise.

He nodded at Simon and Brian. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Setting the sheaf of papers he carried down on the table, he pulled out a chair and sat down, then took a pen out of his pocket and arranged it precisely on top of the papers.

He’d always been too rigid. Simon suppressed a grin as he wondered what Eric would do if he stood and upended the table, sending his carefully placed papers flying across the room.

Too bad he couldn’t do it.

Simon laced his fingers together. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got a lot to do.”

“Quite.” Eric adjusted his preppy glasses on his nose and pulled the first paper toward him.

“Were you aware Jerry changed his will?”

Simon and Brian exchanged glances. Simon put a question into his and Brian shook his head.

“When did he change it?”

“The week before he disappeared.” Eric glanced down at his papers.

Simon wasn’t sure where this was heading. “And?”

“And you are the recipient of his estate.” Eric uttered the words as if they held great portent.

The weight of the pronouncement made Simon fall back against his chair. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Jerry’s half of the business and all his personal belongings are to go to you. Which means, in
effect, that with your existing ten percent, you hold a controlling interest.”

“Guilt money,” Simon muttered. He didn’t know what to think. “It’s not like there’s anything to leave. The business is in the hole. But I suppose it made him feel like he was giving me something as he was taking my fiancée.”

“That was Jerry for you,” Brian agreed. “Always one for a grand gesture.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Simon told his cousin. “I’ve been wanting to put some more money in the business and now I can easily do it.”

Brian brightened. “Great! I’ve got some new design ideas.”

At least Jerry’s death had brought Simon and Brian closer, if that were possible. It felt good to be part of a team. But Rooney was going to have a heyday with this new information.

The white-capped waves bounced the boat on their crests, then let it plunge toward the bottom in a rhythm that Simon loved. He planted his feet on the polished deck boards and lifted his face to the sunshine.

“Makes it all worthwhile, doesn’t it?” Wynne asked.

Joe cut the motor, and the yacht slowed then bobbed in the water like a duck. Simon lowered the anchor as a gull cawed, then swooped over the water as if to see if he’d thrown in a tasty morsel.

She joined him at the railing. “This is quite a ways
from where we last searched. Isn’t this off the normal navigation path?”

“A bit. But the sonar looks interesting.” There was something he couldn’t read in her eyes, and he wondered if she thought he wasn’t searching as hard as he could. He started to defend his hunch then shut his mouth.

Bjorn licked his finger and held it up to the wind. “Looks like we might have a gale today. We’d better make this quick.”

Joe leaned over the side. “It doesn’t look as deep here.” He and Bjorn went into the bridge area.

Simon nodded. “The bottom is only about seventy-five feet down. But it’s murky today from the waves.” The light scent she wore was enticing. He stepped closer and drew in a deep whiff. “If I tell you that you smell like cotton candy, will I get smacked?”

She blinked and widened her eyes. “As long as you don’t bite me, we’re in good shape.”

He grinned, and his spirits lightened when her smile widened. Though he knew she still didn’t trust him fully, it would be an impossible situation to work together for the next few days with tension vibrating between them. Watching the wind toss her hair, though, he wondered if there would be more tension of a different kind between them with their spirits in unity.

“Look.” She pointed to a boat roaring toward them. “The Coast Guard.”

The Coast Guard boat slowed just off their bow and came to a stop. One of the men lifted his hand in greeting, and Simon did the same. The skipper maneu
vered the Coast Guard clipper closer until they could converse.

“Something wrong?” Simon shouted over the wind.

“We’d like to board your boat.” The other man’s face was impassive. A dog barked from behind him, and a canine handler moved forward with the animal.

“What?” Simon couldn’t imagine what could be going on. “We’re looking for a sunken vessel.”

“We’ve had a tip this might be a front for smuggling drugs,” the officer said. His hand dropped casually to his gun.

“That’s ridiculous,” Wynne said. “Check out my qualifications and résumé. This is a legitimate venture. We’re not some kind of criminals.”

“You’re not under suspicion, ma’am,” the officer said. He moved forward and boarded the boat. The canine handler handed the dog up to him, and several other men followed.

Simon knew better than to protest. He clamped his lips together and folded his arms across his chest. “Go ahead and look. You won’t find anything.”

The head officer nodded, and the crew began to search Simon’s boat. The dog went sniffing through the entire vessel. Bjorn and Joe exchanged angry glances with Simon, but neither objected when their duffel bags were searched.

It was nearly half an hour later before the Coast Guard was satisfied. Simon resisted the impulse to say, “I told you so,” but he couldn’t keep the smug smile from creeping across his face.

“You’ve delayed our work long enough that it’s not safe to go down today,” Wynne said. “The least you could do is tell us where this so-called tip came from.”

The officer ordered his men back to the Coast Guard boat then paused at the railing. “It was an anonymous phone tip. We take all such calls seriously. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

He didn’t sound sorry. Simon didn’t say anything. What good would it do? The damage to the day was done. The clouds and wind had increased, and they needed to get back to shore. Tomorrow was another day.

Once the Coast Guard departed, Joe started the boat’s engine and began to motor toward the dock. They passed the quadrant Wynne had wanted to search earlier.

“Stop,” Wynne called. Her brow was knit in concentration as she looked at the new computer screen.

Joe turned off the key.

Simon went to join her and Bjorn at the computer screen. “What is it?”

“There.” She stabbed a finger at a smudge on the screen. “Doesn’t that look like a boat? Here, see the cabin and the hull.” She traced the outline on the screen.

“Sure does.” He leaned forward. “It looks about the right size for the
Superior Lady
, too.” This was no rock formation, he was sure. “But this isn’t even in a likely place for it. It’s more apt to be a fishing boat or something out here. There would have been no reason for Jerry to be in this area.” He chewed his lip. “Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“See that island?” He pointed to a green smudge on the horizon. “Jerry used to use it for his trysts.”

“You think Jerry and Amanda might have been heading there for a getaway?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t get why the boat went down out here.”

A gust of wind shook the boat, and thunder began to boom overhead. “I’m going down, just for a minute,” Wynne said. She grabbed her equipment and began to put it on.

“Five minutes, that’s all we’ve got,” he warned, snatching up his own equipment. “You realize this is stupid, don’t you?”

“We’ll be fine. The storm will hold off a few more minutes.”

Simon wasn’t as confident as she sounded, but he didn’t want to leave without knowing what was down there, too. Moments later they both entered the waves.

After that initial dive, his fear had left him, and he had Wynne to thank for that. He watched her graceful movements as she moved through the water.

Near the top, the surf buffeted them, but under the waves, things calmed. He took the lead and torpedoed down toward the bottom. Wynne was right behind him.

He was still fifteen feet away when he recognized the shape of the boat. They’d found it. Simon grabbed Wynne’s arm and pointed to the side where his floodlight illuminated the name:
Superior Lady
. He swam around the boat but didn’t see any obvious reason for
its sinking. It would take a more rigorous examination than the cursory look he could give it now.

Wynne pointed topside. He hated to leave, but he knew she was right. From down below, there was no way of telling how fierce the storm was growing. They had to get out of there. He glanced at his watch and realized they’d been down for nearly ten minutes.

They headed for the surface. As his head broke the water, he realized they’d miscalculated how strong this storm was. Waves crashed over their heads, and it took all his strength to make it back to the boat.

Joe grabbed his hand and helped haul him and Wynne to the deck. She was pale and panting by the time they both collapsed on the boat deck.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Simon gasped.

Joe nodded and went to the bridge. The engine fired right away and he headed the boat toward shore.

Simon grabbed blankets and wrapped one around Wynne and one around himself. The wind shrieked around them, and lightning flashed overhead. Simon felt responsible. He should have taken them to shore before diving. The GPS system pinpointed their find, and he could have come back the next day.

He glanced at Wynne beside him in the next seat. Her exultant expression said she was reveling in the storm. “You’re not afraid?”

She shook her head. “I love weather. The power of God never ceases to amaze me. I feel close to Him in this kind of extreme storm.”

“I’d say the thunderbird was mad we found the
boat,” he said with a grin. “You think God is mad, too?”

“God is all about truth. I think He led us right to it.”

She had faith in God. He liked that. “I’d say you’re right.”

The wind had torn the band from her braid, and Wynne’s hair lay plastered on her head. She knew she had to look like a drowned puppy. Water ran in rivulets down Simon’s face as he fought with the waves and tried to loop the rope to the dock.

He finally succeeded. “Come on!” He grabbed her hand, and they ran for his truck. He opened her door and got her inside then ran around to the driver’s side. Wynne shivered in the cool of the truck. Her wet clothes stuck to her, and gooseflesh ran down her back.

“I’d like a hot cup of tea about now,” she said, clasping her arms around her.

Simon reached behind the seat and produced a blanket and a thermos. “It’s coffee and not tea, but it’s hot.” He unscrewed the cap and poured it out, then handed it to her.

She wrapped her hands around it and inhaled the aroma. “I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but I’d drink mud about now if it was hot.”

“Some say that’s what my coffee reminds them of.” He grinned, and his dark eyes watched her.

She swiped a lock of wet hair from her cheek. “I must look a sight.”

“Let’s just say you wouldn’t want to run into a reporter right now,” he said.

“At least you’re honest.” She laughed and took another sip of coffee, then grimaced. “How much coffee did you use for this? I’m surprised it doesn’t eat through the cup.”

“I work long hours and need the caffeine.”

“You must make it strong enough to eat the spoon.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. He didn’t laugh as she expected.

His brows drew together. “What do you think that Coast Guard thing was all about? Anyone who knows me should know I’d never be a drug smuggler.”

The way he said it made her wonder. “Why do you say that? Money is a powerful motivator for people.”

“My mother was addicted to prescription drugs. I won’t even take antibiotics. I see a natural doctor on the mainland when I’m not feeling well.”

She could tell he was passionate about the subject. “I hadn’t heard that. Maybe it was news to the Coast Guard, too.”

“Who could have called them?”

His question lay between them for several moments. She didn’t like the only answer. “Someone who didn’t want us to find that boat. Did you tell anyone where we’d be looking today?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I talked to several people and mentioned it at the restaurant this morning. It was packed. Anyone could have overheard me.”

“Who would have a motive to kill your cousin?”

“Half the women on the island.” Simon leaned past her and rummaged in the glove box for a napkin. He wiped his still-dripping face with it then wadded it up and tucked it into the pocket on his door.

“Seriously?” She’d thought maybe the things she’d heard about Jerry had been sour grapes from men who felt upstaged.

“I’m dead serious. Jerry has left a trail of broken hearts from here to Rock Harbor. And there have been plenty of disgruntled old boyfriends—and husbands—to add to the carnage.”

“Carnage. Strange choice of words.” She grimaced at the oily taste of the strong coffee. “Was he malicious?”

“Jerry could be pretty brutal when he was done with a woman. More than one has shown up in tears at the boathouse.”

“Why would he treat women like that?” The more she heard about Jerry, the more she disliked him. Could Simon be like that as well? Max and Becca had warned her against getting involved with Simon. They’d called him a heartbreaker, too.