Presumed Guilty

grown up. It shouldn’t make a difference, but then, she was merely Miranda Wood. Perhaps, to a Tremain, it made all the difference.

“Bow line’s free!” called the deckhand.

The engines of the Jenny B throttled up. Slowly she pivoted to starboard, to face the far-off green hillock that was Shepherd’s Island. The deckhand strode the length of the boat and released the stern line. Just as it slipped free there came a shout from the dock.

“Wait! Hold the boat!”

“We’re full up!” yelled the deckhand. “Catch the next one.”

“I said hold up!”

“Too late!” barked the deckhand. Already the Jenny B was pulling away from the dock.

It was the deckhand’s sharp and sudden oath that made Miranda turn to look. She saw, far astern, a figure racing toward the end of the pier. He took a flying leap across the growing gap of water and landed with only inches to spare on the deck of the Jenny B.

“Son of a gun,” marveled the deckhand. “Are you nuts?”

Chase scrambled to his feet. “Have to talk to someone — one of your passengers—”

“Man, you must want to talk real bad.”

Chase took a calming breath and glanced around the deck. His gaze stopped at Miranda. “Yeah,” he said softly.

“Real bad.”

Miranda, caught standing against the rail, could only stare in astonishment as Chase walked toward her. The other passengers were all watching, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Young man,” snapped Dr. Steiner. “If you sprained your ankle, don’t expect me to fix it. You two and all your damn fool stunts.”

“My ankle’s fine,” said Chase, his gaze never leaving Miranda. “I just want to talk to your patient. If it’s all right with her.”

Miranda gave a laugh of disbelief. “After a leap like that, how could I refuse?”

“Let’s go up front.” Chase reached for her hand. “For this, I don’t need an audience.”

They walked to the bow and stood by the rail. Here the salt wind flew at them unremittingly, whipping at their clothes, their hair. Above, gulls swooped and circled, airborne companions of the plodding Jenny B.

Chase said, “They told me you checked out early. You should have stayed in the hospital.”

Miranda hugged herself against the wind and stared down at the water. “I couldn’t lie in that bed another day. Not with so many things hanging over me.”

“But it’s over, Miranda.”

“Not yet. There’s still that business with the police. And I have to settle with my lawyer.”

“That can wait.”

“But I can’t.” She raised her head and faced the wind. “I want to leave this place. As soon as I can. Any way I can.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I’ve thought about heading west. Jill Vickery walked away from her past. Maybe I can, too.”

There was a long silence. “Then you’re not staying on the island,” he said.

“No. There’s nothing here for me now. I’ll be getting the insurance money from the house. It will be enough to get me out of here. To go some place where they don’t know me, or Richard, or anything that happened.”

The water broke before the bow of the Jenny B and the spray flew up, misting their faces.

“It’s not an easy thing,” she said, “living in a town where they’ll always wonder about you. I understand now why Jill Vickery left San Diego. She wanted to wash away the guilt. She wanted to get back her innocence. That’s what I want back, Chase. My innocence.”

“You never lost it.”

“Yes, I did. That’s what you thought. What you’ll always think of me.”

“I know better now. I have no more questions, Miranda. No more doubts.”

She shook her head. Sadly she turned away. “It’s not as easy as that, to bury the past.”

“Okay, so it’s not.” He pulled her around to face him. “It’s never easy, Miranda. Love. Life. You know, just this morning, Miss St. John said a very wise thing to me. She said happy endings aren’t automatic. You have to work for them.” He reached up and framed her face in his hands.

“Don’t you think this happy ending is worth working for?”

“But I don’t know if I believe in them anymore. Happy endings.”

“Neither did I. But I’m beginning to change my mind.”

“You’ll always be wondering about me, Chase. About whether you can trust me—”

“No, Miranda. That’s the one thing I’ll never wonder about.”

He kissed her then, a sweet and gentle joining that spoke not of passion but of hope. That one touch of his lips seemed to rinse away the terrible grime of guilt, of remorse, that had stained her soul.

The renewal of innocence. That’s what he offered; that’s what she found in his arms.

It seemed only a short time later when the gulls suddenly burst forth into a wild keening, a raucous announcement that land was close at hand. The couple standing at the bow did not stir from each other’s arms. Even when the boat’s whistle blew, even when the Jenny B glided into the harbor, they would still be standing there.

Together.