culture, history and laws. Even the so-called 'civilized' Oahu natives here see the preserva-tion of the old ways on Kahoolawe as imperative to the survival of the culture. Hell, the Bishop Museum has a wing that showcases the aboriginal lifestyle, and believe me, they don't use pictures from your typical all-expense-paid TWA island luau.”
“ Is it part of… I mean, does the island fall under your bureau?”
He took a deep breath. “We don't interfere there. Leastways we haven't. Somewhere in between it gets very dull gray when we speak of jurisdictions and laws as they might apply to Kahoolawe, but suffice it to say, we're not wanted, and the State Department doesn't want us treading on their treaties. Hell, you've got the same situation on Indian reserves on the mainland. You know if the tribal leaders don't agree on FBI or even local intervention, we don't go in, any more than we would Guatemala-under ordinary circumstances, that is. Course, when things become extraordinary — “
“ Yeah, I know.” She studied the strange little island out in the sea to the southwest of Maui on the map he'd shown her. “So it's unofficially not part of your bureau?”
“ That's about the size of it, yeah, although it shows up as part of Maui County and Maui County still wants to think of it as under their jurisdiction.”
“ God, I'd love to see it. It must be — ”
“ Pristine, wild… yeah, so I'm told.”
“ Then you've never been there?”
“ I don't rush in where fools fear to tread; fact of the matter is, we've been ordered to stay out, and there's no love lost between the natives and us. But there are those who, for a price, will gladly take you to a remote side of the island, if you're willing to pay through the nose.”
“ Remote side? It all looks remote.”
“ Remote as in away from the main village. Remote as in where the wild sheep, goats and deer roam. There are some sacred shrines on the island, taboo for whites, that kind of stuff.”
“ Then I guess wc won't be doing any diving or hunting for deer there?”
“ Deer's scarce there anyway, I'm told. Maui's got enough wild lands to keep you busy for a decade. Although, I've heard what a markswoman you are. Heard about that shot you took from atop Quantico's central operations building that took out that maniac they called the Claw.”
“ Archer. Archer was his name, but you'd know that, having read my file. Right?”
He smiled wryly and nodded. “Couldn't help myself, matter of fact. One hell of a shot to make while you yourself were under fire from your own guys.”
“ Yeah, it's a shot I'd never be able to duplicate. But what gives here, Parry?”
“ Whataya mean?”
“ Do you really have nothing better to do? I mean reading all that crap about me? Maybe you need to get a life.”
He chuckled at this. “Touche.”
“ You really can't find me all that interesting.”
“ I had a request in specifically for your help for almost a year, so when I learned you were in the islands-”
“ When you learned I was in the islands? And when was that?”
“ Day you arrived.”
“ Sneaky SOB, aren't you?”
“ Comes with the chromosomes, you might say.”
“ And just how did you learn that I was on Maui?”
He took her in with his eyes once more. “I'm not ready to reveal all my secrets just yet-are you?”
She hesitated, started to answer but thought better of it.
“ I have long found your work, your record interesting. Doctor, and now I simply find you very interesting.” He moved closer, putting his arm about her waist. “Would you have me shot for my curiosity?” She felt a wave of passion sweep through her, but still she resisted, taking his hand away and snatching the blanket from where he'd tossed it across the arm of the chair. “Better arrange this for you,” she said in her most motherly tone. 'Time you got some rest, don't you think?”
She busied herself with spreading the blanket over the sofa, saying in a near-whisper, “I hope you'll be comfortable here, Jim, and now, if you don't mind, I'd like just to-”
“ Yes, well… I'm sure I'll be perfectly comfortable here, yes,” he sputtered, trying desperately to regain the moment but failing to. Wanting to touch her again, but fearful of the consequences, he instead began making faces behind her back-faces that told of his frustration and anger with himself for being so clumsy-while she fluffed his pillow and pleasantly chanted, “There, there.”
She smelled so clean and fresh, like the island air swirling in from the sea, and earlier he'd listened to the cascade of water from her shower, fantasizing at the time how it would be if he simply joined her. He'd step into the spray and she'd welcome him into her waiting arms, but he'd stepped out onto the balcony instead, and she had come to him in that thick robe, her robust skin shimmering against her auburn hair in the half-light. He wondered now how he could ever allow her to step away from him.
When she turned, he again reached out for her. She took his hands firmly in hers and said, “Good night, Jim. Get some rest. You're overtired, and so am I.”
She quickly left, realizing how teasing and foolish she'd been earlier, having gone to him on the balcony in her robe, but she had found out what she wanted to know. He was extremely interested. “Good night, Jim,” she said in a whiskey-voiced whisper from her door.
Just as she turned, he stole a final glance to see her soft form glide off, disappearing into the adjoining room as she closed the door behind her. He then stared at the sofa, kicked off his shoes and tore away his coat and tie. In a moment he was stripping away his shirt, allowing the cool breeze coming in off the balcony to play over his naked chest. He stripped down to his shorts, grabbed a white terry robe with the Rainbow logo and went in to shower.
In the shower stall, the hot jets of water were soothing on his neck and shoulders, the headache of earlier having become a fist at his temple. He closed his eyes and stood there and suddenly his flesh trembled, feeling Jessica's soft touch against his back as she entered the stall. Drenched, he turned to face her, but his fantasy evaporated in the mist of hot spray when he opened his eyes to find himself quite alone.
He toweled off and found Jessica's Nuprin bottle, popped three of them and returned to the living area, where he dropped the robe over a chair and quickly nestled below the cotton blanket she'd given him, his head alighting on the pillow. His every nerve screaming for sleep in the absence of sex, he was immediately met with slumber.
Parry was shaken by a soft, moaning noise reverberating in his head until it turned into a panicked cry, having suddenly intensified even as he gathered his senses to realize where in hell he was: outside Jessica Coran's bedroom, in deep slumber only moments before.
Then the cry from her room became insistent. He tore himself from the covers, grabbed his gun from its holster over a chair and rushed to Jessica's side, fearing the worst.
A moment later, he stood over her bed and watched her troubled sleep. She called out the name Otto, and next she called out the single word Father, mantra of the frightened child, he thought. Somewhere below her calm exterior, below the veneer of the doctor, there was a scared little girl after all. “Just like me,” he whispered aloud. “Like all of us, I suppose.”
He felt uncomfortable seeing her like this, and so he gently sat alongside her and slowly shook Jessica into consciousness, softly and firmly repeating her name. She felt good beneath his warm, gentle touch; he smelled good, too, natural and balmy like the sea air that parted the drapes at the window. She found his eyes burning a path over her reposing form, and as she struggled for complete consciousness, she heard him tenderly say, “God, you're beautiful.”
She came fully awake, her nightmare vanquished as if he'd taken a rapier to it. shredding it apart to reveal a safe reality on this side of sleep.
She gasped for air and gripped his bare arms for support. He gently wrapped her in himself and rocked slowly, telling her that everything was all right.
“ I'm here, Jess… I'm here,” came his litany of assurances. She sobbed against his firm, wide chest, feeling
