Donovans 03 - Pearl Cove

of her mouth. “You should have stayed in Seattle. There’s nothing in Pearl Cove for you but bad memories.”
    Then there was Christian Flynn, who had murdered Len. But Archer wasn’t talking about that anymore. He was tired of arguing with Hannah. The time he had left with her could be measured in hours. He didn’t want to spend them wrangling over the past that shadowed his present life like a curse echoing through time.
    “I’m with you every step,” Hannah said. “Until it’s finished.”
    “Stubborn,” he muttered.
    “And you aren’t?”
    “I’m soft as the inside of an oyster.”
    “Soft?” She laughed and wanted to reach out to him, but she kept her hands clenched at her sides. If she asked, he would do . . . anything. If she didn’t ask, he did nothing.
    At your service.
    She told herself that was what she wanted, all she could accept, that there was no future for her with Archer. Yet every time she repeated the words in her mind, time bent back on itself and she was standing on a street corner in Rio with no money, no hope, nothing but night coming down on her like thunder. The flashback was so intense she could smell the cooking fires and hear the liquid syllables of Portuguese as prostitutes called out to men. Staring out over the wild Australian land, she saw only cardboard shanties clawing up Rio’s steep sides.
    She wondered if she was finally going crazy. Smoke from city fires shimmered and twisted, and settled in a plume of red dust raised by Christian Flynn’s car as he roared down Pearl Cove’s road.
    Savagely, futilely, Hannah wished that she had the power to change what would happen next. But she didn’t. Like Len, Archer did what he pleased no matter what other people wanted.
    With eyes the color of steel, Archer watched dust boil up as Flynn’s car raced toward Pearl Cove.
    “Did April say anything more when you sent Yin’s pearls along with the computer?” Hannah asked. Her voice was like her body, tight, held against a blow that she couldn’t see but knew was coming anyway.
    “April was too busy trying to get a grip on the Red Phoenix Triad to make polite conversation.”
    “Is that why she helped us?”
    “It sure as hell wasn’t charity. That’s also why she took the Chinese side in the trade. The Chang family doesn’t know it, but they’ll be her door into the triad. Or they may know it and figure they’ll find out more from her than they’ll give away. Either way, my money is on Ms. Joy. Anyone who rides that tiger will get eaten alive.”
    Hannah almost smiled despite the chills that kept rippling over her skin. In her mind, bullets echoed and she woke up screaming that Archer couldn’t die, she couldn’t bear it, she never meant to kill him.
    But in the dream he died, she had to bear it, and she had killed him.
    Without really intending to, she went to Archer, put her arms around him, and just held on. Fearing him, fearing for him, needing him . . . she was being torn apart. Only when he held her did she feel anything like hope.
    He stroked her hair and wished to the soles of his feet that he could take away the pain of the past. But he couldn’t. All he could do was bring Len’s killer to justice and then walk away, giving Hannah the peace she had earned at such cost. In time she would get over the nightmares that included both Len and himself.
    In time, maybe he would even get over her. But he didn’t believe it. He had spent years loving her without knowing it. Now he knew. Knowing didn’t help the pain.
    “It’s almost over,” he said softly.
    She nodded against his chest, but she didn’t let go until she heard a car door slam.
    “If it turns nasty,” Archer said, “remember your promise. Whatever you do, don’t get between us.”
    “But—”
    “Hannah.”
    She looked up at him with eyes that were full of fear and just as determined as his. “Let it go,” she said harshly. “Just let it go. Len’s dead. You can’t bring him back.”
    “No. I can only live with myself. He was my brother and I couldn’t help him when he was alive. Now he’s dead. Murdered. I can’t walk away from that.”
    “And I can’t live with knowing I was responsible for your death!”
    “I don’t plan on dying.”
    “Do you think Len did?”
    “Whatever happens is my choice, my responsibility. Not yours. Go up to the house.”
    “Go to bloody hell,” she said between her teeth. “Christian might be able to explain away your dead body,