"Sure do. Changed everything for your folks. We didn't see much of them for the next few years.

Occasionally they'd get out here for a week or two during the summer, but that was about it. Your dad really had a job on his hands trying to keep his company afloat after Wyman went down in his boat. And your mother, bless her heart, had her hands full raising four kids and giving your dad the kind of support he needed to survive while he kept Slater Aero alive. The two of them made a heck of a team. They stuck together under conditions that would have driven a lot of folks apart. Sometimes I think it was the best thing that could have happened to them."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it's hard to explain. But you gotta realize that your mother was only twenty-six by the time you came along. There she was, a young, good looking woman with four kids on her hands and a husband who was spending most of his time building an aeros.p.a.ce company. Before Wyman died and brought on the crisis, she was getting mighty frustrated and restless. Oh, she loved you kids and your dad, but I think she was lonesome, if you know what I mean. It sounds ridiculous, but raising four kids can make a woman feel mighty lonesome. But after Wyman disappeared, she really buckled down and devoted herself to keeping the family on an even keel while your dad built the business back up."

"I don't remember Wyman," Amy said carefully. She shouldn't be doing this. It was dangerous. The past should stay buried and she knew it. But she couldn't help herself. She took another sip of her drink, no longer tasting it. Her attention was on Rosie.

"I remember him," Rosie declared, sounding aggressive.

"He was a born troublemaker if ever there was one. Wild. Smart as h.e.l.l and knew it. Thought he owned the world and he sure as h.e.l.l thought he was the important half of that aeros.p.a.ce company. He seemed to get his kicks from upsetting everyone. I remember the year he brought that woman with him to the island."

Amy went cold. "What woman?"

"Some blond floozy. You know the type. Thought she was Marilyn Monroe or something. Really upset your mother, as I remember."

"Why?" Every instinct warned Amy to stop, but she had given up even trying.

"That blond hustler made a play for your dad. Bold as bra.s.s. And all the while that Wyman fellow just grinned like a shark waiting for his food." Rosie frowned intently over the chowder. "This looks about ready. What do you say we get the paying customers out of the way so we can eat?"

Amy nodded mutely, picking up a stack of napkins and a handful of old stainless steel spoons. She was trembling when she went out into the main room to set a table for Hank and Rosie's inn guests.

Jed was still sitting at the bar, hunched comfortably over his gla.s.s of Scotch while he talked to Hank. He glanced at Amy when she came into the room, then turned back to his conversation with Hank.

For some time after that, Amy had no opportunity to pursue her line of questioning with Rosie. The inn guests were loud in their praise of the fish chowder, the garlic bread Rosie had fixed to go with it and the papaya and coconut salad. They asked for seconds on everything, and Amy somehow found herself serving as waitress. It wasn't the first time. More than once she'd dropped in to visit Rosie and Hank and found herself helping out. The truth of the matter was, she was a good waitress. To her parents despair, she had had a lot of practice during the years she'd been searching for her goals in life.

When the inn guests had finished and gone back to drinking at the bar, Rosie ladled large bowls of the chowder for herself, Amy, Hank and Jed. Hank turned the bar over to his backup, a thin young man who helped out part-time in the evenings.

The conversation was general at dinner, covering everything from island storms to the best eating fish to be found in the reefs. Amy said little. Rosie was as talkative as ever, and managed to keep Amy's gla.s.s full along with her own. At the end of the meal Amy followed her back into the kitchen as the men wandered out to the bar. As she ran hot water into the sink to wash the dishes, Rosie poured herself yet another guava juice c.o.c.ktail.

It seemed to Amy that the more Rosie imbibed, the chattier she became. Rosie had never been reticent, but with a few drinks inside her she began to talk almost nonstop. She seemed to enjoy talking about the past.

"What happened to the floozy?" Amy asked as she dried dishes.

"Well, your dad didn't take her up on her open invitation as far as I could tell." Rosie sounded proud of Douglas Slater's willpower. "Wyman never brought her back to the island. She was just here that one time."

"How long did she stay?"

"Oh, a couple of weeks or so." Rosie finished plunging the last of the dishes into the hot water and tossed the chipped plates onto the drain board for Amy to catch and dry. "If you ask me it was deliberate.

Thought so at the time and I still do."

"What was?"

"Wyman bringing that woman here. It was no secret your parents were having some personal problems of their own about that time. Having that blond bombsh.e.l.l around didn't help matters. But things didn't get really bad until after your dad had gone back to the mainland. Wyman and your mother and you kids stayed behind. Your dad said your mother needed a vacation."

"What happened?" Amy matched Rosie's swallow of guava juice c.o.c.ktail. She was no longer feeling as though an anxiety attack was about to move in on her. In fact, the world was looking remarkably mellow now. It probably had something to do with Rosie's secret recipe.

"Well, it looked to me like Wyman made a play for your mom."

The news shattered some of Amy's increasingly mellow mood. She took another sip of the c.o.c.ktail to recover. Rosie was busy pouring herself another gla.s.s. "Did he really?"

Rosie heaved a huge sigh and lowered her large body into a chair that looked like it would give out under her bulk at any moment. "I shouldn't be talking to you like this. But what the h.e.l.l, you're a big girl now.

And everything turned out all right in the end, didn't it? Your parents have a real solid marriage. Everyone has troubles in the early days when the kids are little and business is putting pressure on a man. Bound to be a few problems. Go grab a chair from the bar and come sit down."

Amy set her gla.s.s on a counter with great care, aware that things around her were becoming slightly unsteady. But Rosie was still in a chatty mood. Amy didn't want to cut her off now. She made her way into the tavern and saw that Jed was no longer sitting at the bar.

She glanced around the room and found him at a table with a handful of other men, including Hank.

They were obviously involved in a serious game of poker. Jed picked up his cards and saw Amy watching from the kitchen doorway.

"Everything okay?" he called easily.

Amy s.n.a.t.c.hed up a chair, holding it in front of her as if it were a shield. "Just fine." She turned and marched back into the kitchen.

"Jed and Hank are playing poker with some fishermen," she told Rosie as she set down the chair.

"Then we're in for a long night. If Hank's dragged your man into a poker game, he won't let go of him anytime soon. What do you say we have another drink?"

"I'm floating in guava juice as it is."

"Well, then, let's skip the guava juice and just concentrate on the secret ingredients." Rosie reached for a bottle.

It was a long time later before Jed appeared in the kitchen doorway. Amy saw him through half closed eyes. He looked very large and solid in a world that had gone very misty and soft.

"Did you win?" she demanded.

"A few bucks." There was a trace of a smile on his hard mouth as he surveyed her. He glanced at the big woman lounging in the other chair. "What have you done to her, Rosie?"

"Nothing at all. We were just reminiscing about the past." She peered at Amy. "I think she's feeling a little sleepy."

"I think she's smashed." Jed moved forward, took hold of Amy's hand and tugged her gently to her feet.

She wavered there for a moment and then collapsed against his chest with a contented sigh.

"Is it time to go home, Jed?"

"Yes, I think it's time." He cradled her against him and started for the door. "Good night, Rosie. Thanks for the great meal."

"You can come back anytime, Jed. Bring Amy with you. Been a long time since I've had a nice, cozy chat with another woman who knows how to drink."

Jed glanced down at the top of Amy's tousled head as it lay on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be asleep. "I'm afraid Amy's not quite in your league, Rosie. She's basically a white wine drinker."

"I can cure her of that."

"Uh huh. What did you two talk about all evening?"

"Her folks for the most part. And that Wyman character who used to own half the house. Amy had a lot of questions about him. She didn't seem to remember him, you see. She was only a baby when he disappeared."

"I hear he was lost at sea during a trip between here and Hawaii."

Rosie chuckled. "That's what they say." She nodded to herself. "That's what they say. You take her home now, Jed. Put her to bed. She might not feel too good in the morning."

"You're probably right." Jed eased Amy through the door.

Amy opened her eyes a few minutes later when she felt the breeze whipping hair around her face. She blinked, trying to orient herself. It took her a moment to realize she was seated in the Jeep beside Jed and that they were whizzing through the island night. Thick green foliage crowded close to the edge of the road. She could see nothing but a wall of green on either side of the vehicle. The fresh air revived her a bit and Amy glanced at Jed.

"Did I embarra.s.s myself?"

"Nope. You're a very sweet drunk."

She winced. "There is no such thing. I'm going to feel this in the morning, aren't I?"

"Undoubtedly." Jed shifted gears with casual precision. He smiled.

Amy decided she liked his smile. She leaned her head back on the seat again and stared straight up into the star-studded night. "Did I tell you I'm glad you work for the government, Jed?"

"No, you didn't mention it. Why does the news make you glad? I thought you'd be..." He paused.

"Concerned."

"I'd rather you work for the government than... for just anyone who was willing to pay your price." She was feeling drowsy again. It was hard to keep her eyes open. Even to her own ears her words sounded slurred.

"Who else would I be working for, Amy?"

She tried to shrug and didn't quite make it. Too much work. "Same person LePage worked for, I guess.

I know you can't trust the government, but in this case I'd trust a government agent before I'd trust some d.a.m.n mercenary. You know, Jed, I think I'm going to sleep well tonight. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Be nice to get a good night's rest."

Amy fell asleep, unaware of the still, thoughtful speculation in Jed's gaze as he glanced at her.

"Amy," Jed said softly through set teeth, "what in h.e.l.l have you been living with these past eight months?

When you're sober again, sweetheart, we're going to have a little talk. I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'm the only one who's going to answer questions around here."

Chapter Nine.

Artemus Fitzpatrick wasn't particularly surprised when Renner nearly came unglued. The news was not good.

"What the h.e.l.l do you mean the daughter's staying behind on the island? I thought you said we got lucky because the Slaters left early?" Renner was pacing, as usual. The impatience was gnawing at him as if it were a living thing. He told himself he couldn't stand any more delays. There had already been twenty-five years of delays, thanks to his lush of a mother.

It was typical of his mother to deliberately keep the truth from him, Renner decided. Vivien had never been much of a parent. She'd resented the young boy after Wyman's death, saying it was because of him she was unable to find a man to marry her. No man wanted to raise another's kid, she claimed. Renner had obliged by leaving home as soon as possible, but it had been too late for Vivien. No man, it seemed, wanted to marry an alcoholic. It wasn't until he had opened Vivien's safe deposit box after her death the year before that Renner had learned the truth about his father and the box of goodies stashed in a flooded cave. He'd also found the key in that safe deposit box. Wyman had mailed it to Vivien as a backup, and Vivien, deep in grief and anger, had stuck it into the safe deposit box along with her diary after learning of Wyman's death. It had been a mistake to give LePage a duplicate of the key, Renner decided. This time he would keep the key until he had the box in his hands.

"According to Vaden, the Slaters left yesterday afternoon. But the daughter stayed behind with that guy she brought with her. Take it easy, Dan. There's nothing we can do. We'll just have to wait it out. They're bound to leave sooner or later."

Renner glanced at his watch. "I'm booked on a ten o'clock flight to Hawaii. I'm going to be on that flight, Artie. Tell Vaden and Guthrie to expect me on Orleana first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe even this evening if I can make connections."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Dan." As usual, Fitzpatrick knew, he was wasting his breath. "We can wait a few more weeks. Better to be sure the Slater house is vacant. That'll give us plenty of time to search for the cave entrance."

"I've had it with waiting. I'm going there myself and I'll make my decisions on the spot. Vaden's already on site, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's staying at a little inn there called Hank and Rosie's or something equally quaint. Guthrie is due to arrive tomorrow. Look, Dan, these guys are good. They know what they're doing. It's worth it to pay them a little standing around time so that in the end they can do the job right."

"The way LePage did it?"

"Okay, so LePage was a mistake. He wasn't as good as he was supposed to be. These things happen."

Artie said the words soothingly, the same way he would tell a tax shy investor that last year's shelter had been a miscalculation but this year's was going to be a sure-fire winner. The trick was to make it sound like he had taken an even bigger loss than the client and he was still able to be a man about it, not a nervous wimp.

"Waiting around to see what the woman and her boyfriend are going to do would be another big mistake, Artie. Has it occurred to you that this guy who's with the Slater woman might be connected to LePage in some way?"

"What the h.e.l.l?"

"Yeah, think about it. You got to admit, in a way, it makes sense. After all, whoever he is, he made contact with the daughter, just like LePage did. Got himself in bed with the woman and in good with the family, just the way LePage did. And now he's staying on with the daughter after the parents leave. It's a little too pat, Artie. Dammit, I can't fool around any longer. Tell Guthrie I'll meet him in Honolulu and we'll fly to Orleana together. We'll go in as a couple of tourists. Vaden will work separately. Guthrie and I will pretend we don't know him. Might be useful not to have Vaden connected with Guthrie and myself.

You never know."

"I think maybe you've been watching too much television, Dan."

"Just do as I say, Artie. Get the message to Vaden and Guthrie that I don't want any overt contact. Got it?"

"I got it."

"Good. I'm on my way. Oh, and tell Vaden that if this joker who's sleeping with Slater's daughter tries to leave the island before I get there, I want him stopped."

"Uh, Dan, what do you mean, you want him stopped?" Artie was suddenly feeling extremely cautious.

"If Guthrie and Vaden are as competent as you say, they'll know exactly what I mean." Renner slammed down the phone and stared at the hapless instrument in brooding silence. Then he swung around in an explosion of energy and went to work to finish packing his discreetly initialed, Italian leather flight bag.

Artemus Fitzpatrick gingerly replaced the receiver on his end and breathed a sigh of relief that he was only the broker in this deal. Just the middleman. Buy a little here, sell a little there, but don't get mixed up in the action, he told himself. Words to live by. He might never make it quite as big as Renner was going to make it, but there was something to be said for erring on the side of caution. The last thing he wanted to do was end up standing on a street corner again.

Amy awoke with the vague sense of having had her first full night's sleep in eight months. But the headache that kicked in when she moved her head less than an inch convinced her the price of that sleep was much too high. She'd rather lie awake half the night than feel like she did. Her stomach stirred uneasily as Amy lifted herself up on one elbow and gazed out at the morning sunlight on the sea. She took a couple of deep breaths, waiting for things to settle. Then she concentrated hard, trying to remember exactly what had happened. She had spent the evening talking to Rosie, that much was clear. Something had been said about her mother and Michael Wyman and Wyman's girlfriend and Douglas Slater. All very complicated. Then Jed had appeared to take her home.

A few words had been exchanged on the trip back to the house, but Amy couldn't remember how much of the conversation had taken place inside her head and how much had been verbal. Her frown intensified.

"Well, if it isn't little Miss Sunshine. Think you can handle a cup of coffee?"