Radclyffe - Wild Shores

The message was clear—Austin’s job was to keep the lens of public scrutiny focused somewhere other than on the company. “Right. What’s the status out on the rig?”

“Ray says the breach hasn’t widened, and there’s no surface contamination at this point.”

“So we’ve still got time.”

“We’re bringing in the ships just in case. If we have to, we can burn, as long as the surface skim doesn’t get away from us.”

“We’ll have to make a statement before we do that. We’re walking the line right now. Someone’s going to ask the question sooner or later as to when we first knew about the breach.”

“We’re not required to report containable leaks.”

“I know that’s the party line.”

“It’s more than that, it’s the law. We have to accept regulations that aren’t always to our benefit, and we ought to be able to use those that are.”

“The public doesn’t care about the law, Eloise, it’s all about perception.”

“And that’s your job, isn’t it?”

Austin watched Gem walking back toward her. Manipulating perception, yes. That was her job, that was her skill. That was her. “I have to go.”

❖

Maybe it was the wine or the night closing in around the vehicle that sent Gem to sleep, but the deceleration of the SUV was what roused her. She jolted awake, discovered her head leaning at an awkward angle against the side window, and straightened with a nearly inaudible groan. “Sorry, I flaked out on you.”

“Not a problem,” Austin said.

“I wasn’t snoring, was I?”

“Um…no?”

“Good answer.” Gem blinked and peered through the windshield. Fog had rolled in again, but that wasn’t uncommon along the shore. It didn’t necessarily harbinger another storm, although she estimated this time it did. The town of Rock Hill, more a village really, encompassed barely a mile in length, the main street hugging the shoreline and the residential areas extending from it like tiny bristles on one of those spindly brushes used to clean test tubes. There were no hotels, merely a few dozen bed-and-breakfasts situated along the main drag, and at this time of year, they would be empty except for seasonal events like Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, and of course, the great migration. No Vacancy signs abounded. Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about that. She had a car waiting for her at the tiny airport at the far end of the island. By midnight, she ought to be in her own quiet cabin, warm and dry and…alone. Usually she looked forward to solitude. Tonight her feelings were mixed.

She hadn’t spent so many continuous hours with one single person in weeks—possibly months. She didn’t really count dinner and an evening spent watching television and then sleeping with Kim in the same way. They talked, of course, shared the events of their recent days, discussed books or movies they’d read or were interested in seeing, and slept companionably until they enacted their choreographed morning routine of moving around one another in the bathroom—hers or Kim’s, depending on whose residence they’d spent the night at, before going off to work.

Those nights were pleasant, but not intense. Not like the day she’d just spent with Austin. An exhausting day, an exhilarating day, a day fraught with emotion and excitement. A night alone would be welcome. She needed to think about what had happened, perhaps even make sense of it if she was lucky. Still, she didn’t want to say good night. She didn’t want to let go of the feeling of being so alive. She never knew where the next conversation would take them, when casual contact would morph into something more, when she’d look across the space between them and be struck by the sensual angle of Austin’s jaw or the erotic promise in her hands.

“Which way to the airport?” Austin asked.

“Actually, there’s only one way to and from anything in this place. Just keep driving straight and you’ll eventually end up at the airport. It’s at the very end of the island. I’m sorry to make you play chauffeur now. I’m sure you’re beat.”

Austin smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine, really. I’m used to crazy travel schedules with no sleep.”

Gem frowned. “Really? I got the impression you didn’t get out all that much—that you tended to hibernate with your work.”

Austin’s jaw tightened. “I don’t really have any set schedule.”

“Okay.” Gem sensed the issue was closed although she couldn’t quite see why. They rode in silence until Austin turned into the access road to the airport. Five or six small planes, dimly illuminated in the diffuse glow of the halogen lights penetrating the fog, were tied down at the end of the runway beside the small single-story terminal. “It looks like all the flights have been grounded. I’m not surprised.”

“I’m sure there were plenty of people who didn’t get off the island today if they’d planned on flying.” Austin pulled up in front of the terminal. “I’ll wait until you get your car so you can transfer your luggage.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

Austin leaned closer and squeezed her hand. “I want to. It’s no trouble.”

“Thanks,” Gem said. “It shouldn’t be long.”

She hurried inside and wasn’t surprised to find the waiting room empty. Clearly, no flights were leaving here anytime soon. No one was behind the counter, but an open door spilled light from an office in the rear.

“Hello?”

A few seconds later a trim, middle-aged sandy-haired woman in a long-sleeve navy-blue shirt and dark pants emerged. Her name tag read Peg . “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Gem said. “I was supposed to arrive early this morning from Baltimore, but my flight was canceled.”

Peg made a face. “Everything’s been canceled. I’m not sure we’ll fly tomorrow.”

“Yes, well, I reserved a car. Can I pick it up here?”

“Sure can.” Peg pulled a folder out from under the counter, flipped it open, and scanned a page. “We won’t have much of a choice for you, I’m afraid. When news of the storm came in and the weather started turning bad, a lot of folks who were supposed to fly out rented cars. Name?”

Gem told her. “Anything with four wheels and an engine will be perfect.”

Peg smiled, gave her some paperwork to fill out, and handed her the keys. “I hope you’re not headed too far tonight.”

“No, just out to Kramer Point.”

“Not tonight you won’t be.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Not by car. Part of the causeway’s washed out. I don’t know how bad it is, but last I heard, they’ve stopped all traffic out to the Point in both directions.”

“And the pontoon boats?”

“You mean from Flyers?” Peg chuckled. “Even if you could find someone around to rent you one, only a crazy person would try that at night, and in this weather?” She cocked her head. “You don’t exactly look crazy to me.”

“Right at this moment, you’d be surprised.” Gem sighed and picked up the keys. “Thanks.”

As she approached the car, she could see Austin behind the wheel, her head tipped back against the seat. She had to be tired, but she wouldn’t admit it. Gem smiled to herself. She understood priding oneself on independence, even sometimes when it wasn’t completely to her benefit. She opened the car door as quietly as she could, but Austin was already sitting upright and gazing in her direction when she slid in.

“All set?” Austin asked.

“Yes and no. I’ve got a car, but I can’t get to my cabin tonight. Apparently the road is underwater.”

Austin frowned. “You’re going to have trouble finding anyplace to stay in town.”

“There’s got to be one room. I’ll make some calls. You should get going. I can’t imagine you want anything more than to crawl into bed right now.”