Deep Waters

Seattle."
    "You're going to lose, Davis."
    "We'll see. By the way, Charity, one more thing."
    "Yes?"
    "A word of warning. Watch your step with Winters. Rumor has it he's not just a player, he's a winner. Every time."
    "No one wins every time, Davis."
    Charity said good-bye and hung up the phone. For a while she gazed blindly at the display of mystery titles that occupied a large section of one wall.
    Why was she feeling such a letdown, she wondered. She knew how the players in the business world worked. Davis had only said aloud things that she, herself, should have suspected from the start.
    The truth was that she did not want to believe that Elias Winters might be deliberately deceiving her. During the past ten days she had begun to hope that he was exactly what he claimed to be. A man who had come to Whispering Waters Cove to find some answers.
    A man who had something in common with her.

    The soft knock on the kitchen screen door came after dinner that evening. It startled Charity, who was sitting at the table, filling out yet another in the seemingly endless series of bureaucratic forms that always threatened to drown a small business. Her pen slipped on the first letter of her name just as she was about to add her signature. The C came out as an odd little squiggle.
    Charity threw down the pen and shot to her feet. She whirled to face the door. A dark figure loomed on the step.
    "Who's there?"
    "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Elias gazed at her through the screen. His eyes gleamed in the fading twilight.
    The small jolt of fear dissolved into a tingle of relief. "You didn't scare me. I just didn't hear you." Feeling like a fool for having overreacted, she rose and went to the door. "I had a little trouble here last month. Someone trashed my house one evening while I was out attending a meeting of the town council. I guess I'm still a little jumpy."
    "I didn't know Whispering Waters Cove had a crime problem."
    "We don't. At least, not by city standards. The police chief, Hank Tybern, suspects some summer visitors. But there's no way to prove it. I just hope they've left the area. What are you doing here? Is some thing wrong?"
    "No. I was out for a walk. Thought I'd stop by and see if you'd care to join me for an evening of scintillating theatrical entertainment."
    "Entertainment? What entertainment?" The temptation to open the screen door was almost over whelming.
    "A musical drama known as chanting down the sun. I can arrange front-row seats for tonight's performance if you're interested."
    Charity smiled in spite of herself. "It's gotten lousy reviews."
    Elias shrugged. "I figure it beats trying to conduct a conversation with Crazy Otis. He wanted to go to sleep."
    "So you got bored and decided to come over here?" The minute the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could recall them.
    "It was just a thought." Elias held up a hand. His expression was shadowed and unreadable. "If you'd rather do paperwork . . ."
    She winced. "Hang on, I'll get my key."
    He contemplated her kitchen table and chairs as she turned away from the door. "Bet you didn't buy this stuff down at Seth's New & Used Furniture Mart, did you?"
    Charity flicked a glance at the sleek lines of her expensive Euro-style furnishings. "Nope. Brought it with me from Seattle. Thank God the vandals con tented themselves with throwing food from the refrigerator onto the floor and writing nasty words on the walls. They didn't get around to ruining my furniture,"
    With the key in the pocket of her jeans and the door securely locked behind her, she joined Elias in the warm summer twilight. Without a word they walked toward the old dirt path that wound along the bluffs above the beach.
    Charity had made it a habit to walk several times a week. It was part of the self-prescribed therapy she had adopted to help herself recover from burnout. She hadn't had a panic attack in months, unless one counted the brief twinge she had gotten when Rick Swinton had tried to pressure her into a date.
    The storms of anxiety had eased shortly after she had moved to Whispering Waters Cove. But she had maintained the exercise ritual along with some of the other stress-reducing techniques she had learned. They had become her talismans.
    She loved the feel of the cove breeze on her face. It never failed to invigorate all her senses and clarify her mind. Tonight the effect was even stronger than usual. She was keenly aware of Elias gliding along beside her. She sensed