Deep Waters

cops."
    Phyllis straightened her crisply padded shoulders. "Yes. I wasn't looking forward to it, but if I'd received more threats, I'd have contacted Tybern or hired a private detective to deal with the situation."
    "Exactly." Charity shrugged. "Rick Swinton would not have been worth the risk of a murder conviction to either of us. But even if one of us had decided to take such a drastic step, we would not have been dumb enough to leave the body on our own doorstep."
    Phyllis frowned. "I doubt that the killer intended for Swinton to be found. I heard that he was washed ashore by the tide. That means someone tried to ditch him in the cove. Probably threw the body off the bluff thinking it would be carried out into the Sound."
    "Everyone who has lived around here for more than a few months knows that things that get dumped off the bluff tend to wash up in the cove."
    Phyllis's well-defined brows came together in a sharp, considering expression. "You're right."
    Charity pursued her new line of thought. "Which means that the murderer either didn't care if Swinton was found or else he actually wanted the body to show up."
    "Not likely. Why would anyone want it to be found? There's too much potential evidence on a dead body. More likely the killer was not a local person. Didn't know about the peculiarities of our tides."
    "Someone who just assumed that Swinton's body would be carried out to deep water and disappear forever?"
    "Yes." Phyllis toyed with a plump fountain pen. "I suppose that points back to one of the Voyagers, doesn't it? They were the outsiders in town. They wouldn't know about tides and such, and they had motive. Maybe the same Voyager who murdered Gwendolyn Pitt killed Swinton, too. For similar reasons. After all, both Pitt and Swinton conspired to fleece the members of the cult."
    "True. But Tybern says all of the Voyagers have good alibis. Which means he's looking for someone local," Charity added.
    "Someone who would have known about the cove tide and who didn't care if the body was found?"
    "Or someone who was so distraught that he was not thinking clearly when he pulled the trigger."
    With that, Charity went out the door and closed it behind her.
    Food and Sex.
    He liked the idea of rebuilding on such strong, solid basics, Elias decided. Food and sex were about as fundamental as things got between a man and a woman. And both were very, very good when he and Charity shared them.
    It was just after nine. He was doing his shopping early in the day before he opened Charms & Virtues because he wanted to get first crack at the vegetables. He had discovered that if he waited until later in the afternoon, the best were frequently gone.
    He stood, pondering, in front of the produce counter. The broccoli was a rich dark green with a hint of purple. Just right. He examined several bunches, searching for perfection.
    Tonight's meal was a critical event. It would establish that his relationship with Charity was still intact. He wanted to make her understand that what they had together was solid and real and substantial. A lot more solid, real, and substantial than what she'd had with Brett Loftus. Or anyone else, for that matter.
    He had planned an earthy, rustic menu. Twisty fusilli pasta tossed with an olive and caper mixture. Fresh broccoli. Some of the dense, chewy, Euro-style bread he had brought back from Seattle. It could be dipped in olive oil and sprinkled with salt. He had already chosen the wine, a deep, rich cabernet.
    After dinner, they would have solid, real, substantial sex. The kind of earthy sex that would make Charity want to stay for the entire night. The kind that would make her see that moving in with him was a logical thing to do.
    Back to basics.
    He put the broccoli into a plastic bag and headed toward the checkout counter. He would stop by the house, leave the vegetables in the refrigerator, collect Otis, and then drive to the pier.
    He saw Charity as he walked toward the Jeep a few minutes later. She was exiting the drugstore with a paper bag in one hand. The expression on her face sent a stab of unease through him. She looked troubled. He wondered how well she had slept last night.
    Elias changed course so that his path would intersect with hers. She was concentrating so hard on her private musings that he almost had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She finally noticed him when she came within a hairsbreadth of colliding with him.
    "Good morning," he said.
    She halted