Eyes of Fire

He bent down and picked up a shoe. A slim black heel, nine double A. He could remember her slipping into the shoes just before they had left her cottage earlier. A slim black heel to go with her short silver cocktail dress.

“Oh, God!” Yancy breathed.

“What do we do?” Jem asked.

“We go from cottage to cottage,” Adam said.

“Where do we start?”

“Avery Smith,” Adam said grimly. “But then, what the hell? Everyone on this island is living some kind of a lie.”

“I really don’t know about the Beldona!” Sam gasped. The fingers that had moved over her flesh went still for a minute. Then patterns were again being drawn on her skin. She felt the knit dress shoved up against her thighs, bunching at her hips. Felt the touch resume, circles being drawn higher and higher.

“What a waste to kill you, Miss Carlyle. You really are quite a phenomenal woman. Tell me why your father was so interested in the Beldona.”

She moistened her lips. “My father thought that—that some unique Spanish gems had been stolen and were aboard the ship.”

“Yes, and…?”

“He thought maybe there was something about the way the ship went down—perhaps a different reason than a storm that caused it to sink that might help in the finding of it.”

The fear was mounting in her again.

Maggots. Creeping all over her. Oh, God. His fingers felt like horrible crawling creatures. Just touching her. Not hurting. Just touching. Going up and down her leg. Now…oh, God. A finger slipping beneath the elastic of her black satin panties.

“What a waste it will be if I kill you….”

He spoke so close to her. The whisper directly above her lips. The breath fanning her flesh. His face coming closer and closer to her own….

“No, please…”

Oh, God, she sounded so pathetic. Like such a whimpering coward.

There had to be a way to fight. Hands tied, ankles bound, she could scarcely move.

She couldn’t see….

There was hope. As long as she was living, there was hope.

But, oh, God, oh, God…

The sound of that very husky laughter again.

And another touch. On the bodice of her silver dress.

She heard another sound. A ripping.

Her dress coming apart.

She opened her mouth to scream.

A hand clamped down over it, nearly smothering her.

And once again that wretched whisper fanned her cheek. “Let’s play chicken, Miss Carlyle. I want to hear you talk. While you talk, I’m distracted. I need to be distracted.”

Slowly the hand moved from her mouth.

“Don’t scream,” he warned her.

She inhaled raggedly.

She felt a rounded fist fall lightly against her heart. “Where life beats! Right there, your heart, Miss Carlyle. To kill you quickly, I could slip a knife right through you, there. But then, I would never want to kill you quickly.”

“Don’t kill me. Please.”

“Then tell me what I want to know.”

The whisper again brushed her cheeks with deadly menace as the fingers fell upon the bare flesh now exposed at her navel. “Don’t scream, Miss Carlyle. Just talk. Talk to me. I’m dying to listen. And surely, surely, my lovely Miss Carlyle, you must be dying to talk….”

Adam knew who was in each cottage; he had made a point of determining just who was staying where during the first hour he had spent on the island.

The door to Avery Smith’s cottage was locked.

No matter. He didn’t wait. He hefted a shoulder against the door.

“Damn you, you bastard!” he cried out.

The door gave, and he went flying into the darkened parlor area of the one-bedroom cottage, Jem, Matt and Yancy following behind him. “Astin, you bastard, get out here!” he shouted, striding toward the bedroom.

But before Adam could reach the hallway, James Jay Astin, alias Avery Smith, came walking out of the bedroom, tying the belt on his robe. He’d obviously been sleeping.

“Young man, just what the hell is your problem?” he demanded.

“I want Sam Carlyle.”

“I’ve been under the impression that you already have Miss Carlyle.”

Jem, apparently afraid that Adam would take a swing at the older man, stepped up behind him.

“Where is she?” Adam demanded.

“Mr. O’Connor, I’m well aware that your opinion of my means and methods is not high. And I admit, as well, that I came here to find out just what Miss Carlyle knows about the Beldona and the disappearances that have occurred in the search for her. I want that ship. I am the one who’s best suited to solve the mysteries regarding her, to bring up her treasures, to show her in her very best light.”

“Do you want that ship badly enough to threaten Sam?” Jem suddenly demanded from behind Adam. “Enough to kill?”

“No matter what the rumor might be, I’ve never killed anyone, nor caused anyone to be killed. And take a look. Do you see the young lady here?” Astin demanded. Hands on his hips, he stared at Adam. “You’re looking in the wrong place, and you should damned well know it!” he snapped.

“What’s he talking about, Adam?” Yancy asked.

Adam and Astin stared at one another. Adam realized that Astin must know the truth about Jerry North, just as he did himself. Justin Carlyle had been out with Astin several times before his disappearance. If Astin was as legitimate in this as he was claiming, the two men might even have been friends.

Justin Carlyle might even have shared some information with Astin regarding a possible reconciliation with his ex-wife, Jerry.

Justin wouldn’t have told Sam about Jerry. He wouldn’t have told her anything that might hurt her. And unless Jerry was definitely going to become a part of their lives again, there wouldn’t have been much of a reason to tell Sam about her.

“She couldn’t have come to hurt Sam,” Adam said.

James Jay Astin threw up his hands. “There are different ways to hurt people, aren’t there, Mr. O’Connor?”

“She wouldn’t put Sam’s life in danger.”

“There are different ways to do that, as well. You can endanger someone’s life without ever intending to.”

“I’m going to see Jerry North,” Adam said to Jem, Matt and Yancy. “You go over to the Walkers’.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Adam spun around to stare at Astin. “Why not?”

Astin exhaled, shaking his head. “As I said, I have been looking for the Beldona. I wanted Justin Carlyle’s help looking for it, and I think that Justin would have taken on my company to do the actual salvage. Samantha Carlyle hates the ship—she wasn’t willingly going to help anyone, so I had to try to find out what she did know, and where she’d go if she was diving herself. I’m too old myself for the kind of diving required to find the ship. I hired the Walkers to tail Samantha Carlyle, to get her diving around the Steps, to try to discover just what was down there.”