“‘Most likely’ doesn’t make it fact,” he said flatly. “The body that you found—and yes, I’m convinced you found a body—was Alicia’s. I’m certain of it.”
“How do you know that?” she demanded, but then she knew. One of his best friends, Dane Whitelaw, worked in Key Largo, leading his version of an ideal life, running a dive service and an investigations business. “Never mind. You’ve had Dane looking into it.”
“Yup. So do you understand now?”
“Understand what?”
“Why I need to keep you under my wing for the time being.”
“Under your wing?” she snapped.
“Don’t get bristly,” he protested. “After all, we’re still married.”
“A technicality.”
“Even if we weren’t, I’d be damned if I’d allow anyone to hurt you.”
“John Seymore doesn’t intend to hurt me,” she said. Then she couldn’t resist adding, “Unless I want him to.”
He glared at her, eyes hard. “You just won’t take this seriously, will you?”
“How do I know you haven’t suddenly turned into a murderer in your quest for treasure?”
“Quit fighting me, please. I really don’t want to sleep on your porch tonight. It will just make me harder to get along with. And if I’m cranky, I won’t go to see a lawyer with you. And once I find out what’s going on here…well, I could just take off again and leave you in limbo for a very long time.”
“You wouldn’t!” she said.
“I didn’t file the papers in the first place,” he said with a shrug, then rose. “We’re nearly back. I’ve got to go dock her.”
Left alone, Alex felt her temper rising, but she wasn’t as furious with him at that moment as she was with her self. She shouldn’t be making a terrible problem out of things. Let the idiot sleep on the couch. Under the circumstances, she needed to take everything slow. If John Seymore was really interested in her, he would wait around.
Even with her ex-or-almost-ex-husband in the cottage?
They had docked. She rose slowly, all too aware of why she was so upset. Having David on the couch should be no big deal.
Except she would know he was there. And now, with each passing moment, she was more and more aware of why she had been so attracted to him from the beginning, why she felt a strange flush of excitement when he was around, and why she found herself so annoyed that he ran around shirtless so often.
“We really do need to talk,” David murmured as they went ashore, following Hank Adamson and John Seymore off the Icarus.
“I really need to see to my dolphins,” she told him, and purposely walked as quickly as she could along the docks, aiming straight for the dolphin lagoon and praying, for once, that she wouldn’t be followed. By anyone.
“Come to the Tiki Hut with me?” Jay said to David. He’d waited at the end of the deck. He was trying to sound casual, but there was an edgy note in his voice.
Damage control, David thought.
“I really need a shower,” David told him.
“And I don’t think anyone actually wants a drink,” Hank Adamson said.
“What the hell, I’ll go for a few minutes,” John Seymore said.
“We’ll all go,” David determined. He wanted to keep an eye on the guy. He wasn’t sure if he was suspicious because a man like Seymore was in a place like this, or because he was interested in Alex. Interested in her? He’d had his tongue halfway down her throat the other night.
“Apparently the sheriff doesn’t believe that Seth Granger just fell in the water and drowned,” Hank said as they walked.
“What makes you say that?” Jay asked him sharply.
“He questioned everyone pretty closely.”
“He’s the sheriff,” Jay said uneasily. “He has to cover all bases. Why the hell would anyone want to kill Seth Granger.”
The silence that followed his question was telling.
“For being a crass, overbearing windbag, for one,” Hank offered dryly.
They reached the Tiki Hut. The employees rushed for Jay as he appeared, and he calmly explained the situation. No one seemed to be terribly sad, David noted. They were amazed, though, and maybe even a little titillated. The drowning of such a wealthy man was bound to excite gossip.
The four men took a table. David admired Jay’s determination to deal with the situation. He wanted to be visible, to answer any questions. That was damage control, yes, but at least the guy wasn’t shrinking from his responsibility.
Zach’s mother, Ally Conroy—the one person who had seemed to be getting on with Seth the night before—was in the bar without her son, and it appeared she’d had a few herself. She rose, walked to the table and demanded, “Are they really saying he just…got up and drowned?”
“That’s what they think right now, yes,” Jay told her.