Deep Waters

in Garrick's face. "He had nothing to do with what happened out on Nihili. He wasn't even born. Do whatever you think you must to me, you cold-blooded, manipulative bastard, but don't touch Justin. So help me, if you—"
    "Justin is safe from me. But he's not safe from you."
    "What are you talking about?"
    "You're the one who has the power to hurt him. Hell, if you're not real careful, he could turn out just like me. He could become the kind of cold-blooded, manipulative bastard who can spend years plotting revenge. Is that what you want for him?"
    "That's a stupid queston," Garrick roared.
    "There's another possibility. Maybe he'll turn out like you, instead, Keyworth. A robot of a man who can sacrifice his family and everything else important in life because he can't let himself get beyond the past."
    Garrick pushed himself halfway out of the chair. His arms trembled. His eyes, which had been dead a few minutes earlier, burned with fury. "What is going on here? Why do you keep talking about my son?"
    Elias steadied himself. He had known this would cost him. "If you want to save Justin, take some advice. Don't do to him what my parents did to me. Don't abandon him."
    Garrick's mouth worked. It took him several attempts before he could speak. "What is that supposed to mean?"
    "You've ignored your son for years because the only thing you cared about was fighting your own private demons. Both of my parents did the same thing to me. My mother committed suicide. My father was so busy wrestling with his own devils that he never had a lot of time for me. And then he got into the plane that you had sabotaged, knowing that it was in bad shape, and he never came back."
    "I told you, I never meant for Austin Winters to die."
    "Yeah, well, that's the way it goes. The two of you played hardball out there in the islands, and one of you died. A kid got left without his father. Someone else had to step in and finish raising him. And now you're trying to kill yourself. If you succeed, your son is going to be left without a father, too. You see anything screwy with this picture?"
    "Justin doesn't need me. He despises me Besides, he's not a kid. He's twenty-five years old."
    "The young man who gave me this black eye needs you very badly. If you don't make things right between the two of you, I can guarantee that he'll turn out to be just like me or you. Hell of a legacy to leave your only son, isn't it?"
    Elias did not wait for a response. He knew he had made a hash of things, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. He moved past Garrick Keyworth, went down the sad, echoing hall, and walked out into the gray mist.
    A sleek, dark green Porsche pulled into the long curving drive and slammed to a halt. Justin Keyworth jumped out.
    "What the hell are you doing here, Winters?"
    "You got here fast." Elias opened the door of Charity's car. "Did the housekeeper call you?"
    Justin's hands clenched. "I said, what are you doing here, damn it?"
    "I'm not sure." Elias got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. "Ever notice how difficult it is to identify the exact place in the river where the past and the future meet?"
    Justin frowned, clearly baffled. "Someone told me that you were strange, Winters. I didn't believe him. But now I'm starting to wonder."
    "You and me both." Elias closed the door.
    He drove off down the long drive, away from the gloomy house on the lake. He needed to find Charity.
    The neat, efficient-looking young man seated behind the wide desk surged to his feet in wide-eyed alarm as Charity breezed past him.
    "Wait, you can't go in there. I just told you, Ms. Truitt is in conference."
    "You can't fool me." Charity gave the secretary a cheerful wave as she went to the closed door of the inner office. "I know Meredith instructs her staff to say she's in conference whenever she wants to be alone for a while. Don't worry, if she gets annoyed, I'll handle her. I am not without influence around here."
    "Please, you don't understand—"
    Charity smiled and twisted the knob. "Hey, Meredith," she sang out as she pushed open the door. "The prodigal sister has returned. Want to do lunch?"
    There was a flurry of movement near the desk. Two entwined figures attempted to disengage in a hurry.
    "Sanderson, I thought I told you I didn't want to be interrupted." Meredith broke free from what had obviously been an extremely passionate kiss and glared at Charity. She had to look past the very broad shoulder of a blond Viking