Nadia Nichols - Everything To Prove

Or wondering why Gracie hadn’t been by. Not since the accident had that sultry, sexy bartender from the pool hall paid him a visit. She, too, was probably convinced he’d never be a whole man again and had sought out greener pastures.

He finished the first beer and cracked open the second. Halfway through it he went below to snag his cell phone. Back on deck, after he’d caught his breath, he called the Airport Hotel and asked to be connected to Libby Wilson’s room.

“Dodge here,” he said when she answered. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal and I have a counter proposal of my own.”

“Go ahead,” she said, cool voiced and calm, as if she’d been expecting his call.

“I’m teaching a deep-diving rescue-and-recovery course at the university this weekend. I can fly up and look the situation over on—” he glanced at his wrist watch “—June 15. That’s a Monday, five days from now.”

“All right.”

“If I like what I see I’ll take the job and play by your terms if we don’t find the plane.”

“And if we do find it?”

“You shell out one hundred and fifty grand minimum, and it could shake out to be more if the salvage costs run high. Odds are I’m going to end up with a huge loss I can’t particularly afford right now. I’ll want the five grand up front, and I’ll want the salvage contract in legalese, signed, sealed and delivered into my hand upon arrival at the lake.”

On her part there was no hesitation whatsoever, which reinforced his theory of huge diamonds. Millions of dollars’ worth of rare and priceless jewels. “Fine,” she said. “Will you be bringing your crew?”

“Until the plane is located, I won’t be needing any crew.”

There was a pause. “No offense intended, Mr. Dodge, but are you sure you’re up to doing this by yourself?”

“I’m up to anything you can throw at me,” Carson responded, inwardly bristling. “Where should I hook up with you?”

“There’s a new fishing lodge almost directly across the lake from Daniel Frey’s place. I believe it’s called the Lodge on Evening Lake. That’s where I’ll be staying. I’ll see you on Monday the fifteenth, Mr. Dodge.”

She hung up before he could, and he stuffed the cell phone into his pocket with a silent curse and finished off his second beer while nursing his twice-bruised ego.

LIBBY REPLACED THE PHONE in its cradle and then sat up in her bed with a surge of panic that centered around a horrible thought. What if Dodge found the wreckage, but her father’s remains couldn’t be found? What if she couldn’t prove her paternity? She’d never be able to come up with the money to pay him off. It would take years. She reached for the phone to call him back and tell him the truth, then paused. She’d led him to believe that the plane held great treasures, and to her it did. But if she told Dodge he was looking for bones, what were the odds he’d take the job? She drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She had nothing to fear. Her father’s bones wouldn’t have dissolved, and they’d be with the plane.

Wouldn’t they?

She glanced over at her mother. Marie was sleeping. It had been a long day for her, and while the medicine she’d received at the hospital had begun the process of making her feel better, in the interim she was far better off sleeping. Chronic lymphocytic leukemia. Marie Wilson deserved a whole lot better than that. She deserved to live the way she should have been living for the past twenty-eight years, and would have been if Daniel Frey hadn’t sent her away, denouncing her claim that Connor was the father of her child when he knew Connor loved her and was on his way to marry her.

“I’m going to nail the bastard for what he did, Dad,” Libby said. “I swear to you, I will.”

Dad.

She’d lived with the idea of him all her life, but it had been an elusive idea. Nothing more than a picture on her mother’s bureau. Not one he’d given Marie, but one an employee at Frey’s lodge had stolen and passed to her after his death. That picture had been all Libby had to call Dad, and it was a military picture at that, one he’d sent his own father shortly after getting his wings. A picture of him standing beside his plane at some air base. The plane was a wicked-looking thing. Her father was grinning at the camera. Handsome, dashing. A boy, really, so young and sure of life.

Libby thought it ironic that Connor Libby had survived Vietnam only to die on his wedding day, but she was determined to prove that Frey had something to do with it. Tomorrow she’d fly with her mother back to the village and fill her empty cupboards with food. Then she’d pay a little visit to the eccentric billionaire Daniel Frey, as a guest of the Lodge at Evening Lake, who’d read the wonderful article about him in Forbes magazine. She’d gush. She’d flatter. She’d use all of her feminine wiles to draw him out, to get him to talk about Ben Libby. About Connor. And about the plane crash that had killed her father.

EARLY SUNDAY MORNING, Libby packed her bag in preparation for the trip to Evening Lake. In the past few days she had done much to improve her mother’s living situation. She’d stocked up on food, had the propane tanks filled, dragged all the rugs out and hung them on the line to beat them clean and let them air. She’d arranged for a home health-care visitor daily who would make sure her mother had a good lunch and took her medications. This would happen on the days Libby was absent. The home health-care worker was a government employee trained as a nurse’s assistant, who lived in the village and looked after the needs of the elderly. Marie, of course, wanted no part of this.

“I can fix my own meals and swallow my own pills. I don’t need any help.”

“Mom, you’re still very weak. Soon, you’ll start to feel much better but I’m going to be gone for a few days. I don’t want to worry about you.”

“You’ve been gone for years to those fancy schools back East and I was just fine. I’ll be fine for a few days more.”

“Please, Mom. You told me you liked Susan. She won’t stay long. Just long enough to make sure you eat at least one good meal a day. You’re too thin. That dress will look a whole lot better on you when you fill out. Besides, if we’re going to fish camp, you have to be strong.”

Marie remained unconvinced. “Where are you going, Libby? You tell me you’re going away for a few days but you don’t tell me where.”

Libby had already resolved to keep as much as possible from her mother. Marie would only get upset, and now was not the time to open Pandora’s box. “I’m going to visit friends. I’ve been away so long and there are so many people I want to see.”

“You’re going to Evening Lake, aren’t you? After all this time you still can’t let it go.” Marie may have been weak from her anemia and sick from the anticancer medication, but her eyes were as piercing as ever and she knew her daughter well.

“Mom, please. Just promise me you’ll let Susan check in on you while I’m gone. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Promise me.”

“I promise I will let Susan in the house if you stay away from Daniel Frey.”

Libby gave her mother an impulsive hug. “Eat your food, take your medicines and don’t worry about me.”

As she climbed aboard the float plane she knew her mother wouldn’t let Susan in the house. Out of sheer stubbornness Marie would make life hell for that poor woman, who had promised Libby to watch her mother closely. “Don’t worry, Marie will be fine,” she assured Libby. “Your mother is one of the toughest ladies I know. Besides, she should start feeling much better soon.” Libby hadn’t a doubt about that, but now she was worried about Susan, who took her job very seriously and hadn’t a clue how ornery Marie could be.