Iris Johansen: Deadlock

She stood up on the dune, her bare feet sinking into the warm sand as she faced him. "You're looking… well."

"Is that all you've got to say?" he asked. "I've been waiting for you to call me for over a year. I was wondering if you'd ever get around to it."

"It took a long time for the media to look on me as past history." She paused. "And I wanted to make sure that all the scars were on the way to healing. I wasn't going to be good for anyone else until I was good for myself."

"You had to do that alone?" His face was without expression. "You had to close me out?"

"I thought I did." And she hadn't been sure he would tolerate it. She still wasn't sure. He had come when she called him, but now that he was here, she couldn't read him. She turned and started down the dune. "Will you walk me back to my cottage?"

"Why not?" He fell into step beside her. "It's the first thing you've asked of me. I had to watch you going through that hell Ferguson set up for you, and I couldn't do a thing."

"It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't hell. I just had to hold on to the knowledge that it would eventually be over." She smiled faintly. "And it lightened the load seeing Ferguson so frustrated when he couldn't find any trace of that hammer among Staunton's belongings. He came up with the three amulets facsimiles, a map, and a copy of the Book of Living but nothing else. No hammer. He traced Staunton's steps back six months just to be sure he wasn't missing something."

"Has he given up?"

"I have no idea. I think so. He's out of my life now. I want him to stay that way." She looked out at the sea. "I'm going back to work soon. I'm only here getting my head together. I rented this place be¬cause it was on the beach, and yet it had those ten acres of woods ad¬joining it." She nodded at the stretch of green in the distance. "Trees to climb, animals to photograph…"

"As you did with your father. Is it bringing back memories?"

"Yes. And they're all good. But you can't live on memories." She looked at him. "How is Irana?"

"You haven't talked to her?"

"No, you were the first person I called. She was going to be the second. What's she doing?"

"Her hospital on Mykala is rebuilt now. She's fine-tuning the staff and equipment."

"That's all?"

"That's enough." He glanced at her curiously. "What did you ex¬pect?"

She didn't know what she had expected. Irana would have done nothing hurriedly or without the deepest consideration. She might be going to act later… or not at all. As Emily had said, it was her choice.

She answered his question with one of her own. "What about Pauley?"

"Pauley is working with Irana on the island. He's been doing everything from keeping her labor force in line to in-depth research into some of her projects."

Projects. What projects? Pauley and Irana? What an unusual and intriguing combination. What use could Irana have for-

She suddenly went rigid as the answer came to her. "Dear God."

"What's wrong?"

She smiled brilliantly. "Nothing. Not one thing on the face of the earth. It just occurred to me that if you wanted to secretly and safely launder or distribute a billion or so dollars to charities, who would be better able to do it than Pauley?"

"You think Irana has the treasure?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes. It will be interesting to find out-"

"I don't care about the treasure," he suddenly said roughly. "And I'm tired of your talking about Irana and Pauley and Ferguson." He stopped and turned to face her. "I want you to talk about me. I want you to talk about us. That's why I came here. Now cut to the chase. You've had your damn time and space. A hell of a lot too much of both for me. Now talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" No, that was too passive, and she was not feeling in the least passive. "And just why did you come here? It could be because you wanted to tell me that I was right to take that time, and you decided that we couldn't make a relationship work. How do I know?" She stepped closer. "But here's what I do know. I've never met a man who I wanted or respected as much as I do you. Do I love you? I think I do, but I'm never going to be sure unless I live with you and share something besides threats and trauma. We deserve that chance to dis¬cover who we really are together. So that's what I'm going to do. If you don't want to do that, then I'll just have to follow you around and dog your footsteps until you give in. You'll have to have me arrested as a stalker to get rid of me. And when they let me out of jail, I'll come to you again." She drew a deep breath. "So why not save time and give in now? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

He smiled. "What an interesting offer."

"Is that all you've got to say?"

"Yes, I'd better accede graciously because I'm clearly not going to change your mind." He reached out and cupped her face in his hands, and said thickly, "Thank God."

For a moment she couldn't get her breath for the rush of sheer joy. Oh, yes, thank God. She said unsteadily, "I believe that means I'm not going to have to do any serious pursuit."

He kissed her lightly. "It means that I'm taking you up on your promise to make it worth my while." He kissed her again, not so lightly. "For the next fifty or sixty years. After that, we'll renegotiate." He pushed her away and took her hand. "But right now you're going to show me your cottage. It has a bed I assume?"

"Absolutely."

"Then we'll start there, and we may end there." He smiled down at her. "But maybe tomorrow we'll take time for you to take me to your woods, and you can show me a little of what your father taught you." His warm grasp tightened on her hand as they started down the beach. "If we're embarking on this journey of discovery, I think I want to know that side of you, too."