In Shining Whatever (Three Magic Words Trilogy #2)(59)

"What does that mean?"

"Torture couldn't make me say what I was thinking we could do with the rest of the day," he said.

She smiled. "I've got ways of torture you don't even know about"

"I don't doubt it, but I'm a strong man. I'd even ask you to go to the Eagle's Nest these days and take my chances with your dad" He grinned.

"Okay, I'll let you have that point. I'm not sure I want to know what you were thinking, anyway. We can either take a shower or I'll show you around the place. If the storm comes we might not get another chance."

"Why not? Is it going to last until God calls us away from Earth?" Hart chuckled.

She cocked her head to one side. Had he gone daft after less than twenty-four hours without the comforts of his Texas ranch?

"You said that they wouldn't come get us until we stopped fighting. I reckon the horns will blow announcing the end of the Earth before that happens," he said.

"Hush! Shower or tour?"

"Tour. I prefer my shower before bedtime."

"You might be sorry. I'm tough enough to take it. You might not be," she said.

"I'm tougher than you any day of the week," he said, wondering the whole time what she was talking about; but he'd be hung from a live oak before he asked her to explain.

She slipped her feet into rubber flip-flops at the door and motioned for him to do the same. "You don't want to ruin your good boots."

He looked at the black rubber shoes. "You think those will fit me?"

"They fit Daddy, and there's no way you are as big as he was."

There was an inch of room left behind his heel, and he tried to scoot his foot back so she wouldn't have the satisfaction of being right.

"Won't work," she laughed. "Actually those are Bubba's. Daddy had a small foot, but you still can't fill his boots. Come on, we'll go walk off lunch."

"Lunch? I thought it was dinner and supper out here on paradise island."

"Slip of the tongue; and-you-know exactly what I meant."

The whole place looked different now that his stomach was full. Water lilies floated on the water. Big white birds nested in the trees. The ever-present moss swayed in the wind.

He was looking up at an owl sitting on the branch of an enormous cypress when she poked him on the arm. That much physical contact caused him to jump.

"Look," she whispered, and pointed to the edge of the water, in among the leaves and twigs.

"Lizards?" he whispered back.

"No, baby gators. Three of them. Aren't they cute?"

"Where's the momma?"

"Somewhere pretty close. Just keep an eye out. They can be vicious and Daddy said they can come out of the water doing about thirty miles an hour, which is a lot faster than you can run."

The skin crawled on the back of his neck, and the scar on his forehead began to itch. "I vote that we leave them alone and get out of this spot"

"Ahhh, and I had notions of taking one home for a pet."

"If you're not kiddin', then you are crazy," he said.

"Mon dieu, you are full of nice things to say about me today. I've got a feeling when the voodoo queens meet tonight, the consensus will be to leave us out here a while longer."

"I wasn't joking when I said we may be here for a long time. We may have to populate the island all by ourselves, because it's the same as being the last man and woman on earth," he said.

"Guess the human race is about to die then," she said, giggling.





The night was even heavier with humidity than the day had been. The nutria weren't making as much noise. Tree frogs and crickets were still. The moss, dripping from the trees like stringy gray spiderwebs all tangled together, hung limp. Not a single ripple disturbed the water, giving it a glassy appearance, as if someone could actually walk out of the swamp right on top of it.

Supper was over, and Kate and Hart had ignored each other all evening. He'd sat on the porch, leaning back in that old chair, deep in thought. She'd opened all the windows to let in what little air could be enticed into flowing through the house, and stretched out on the bed and fought with herself.

In this corner was Kate, the detective who loved her job.

In that one was Kate, the woman who loved Hart Ducaine.

At dusk she gathered up a towel and a bar of soap and went outside. "I'm taking my shower. You want one when I'm done or not?"

"You want to sleep with me without one?" he asked right back.

Kate stopped so fast, she had to reach out to keep from tumbling forward. "I'm not sleeping with you"

"One bed, and I'm not sleeping on the floor. That roach I saw this morning could carry me out there to your bionic gators," he said.

She inhaled deeply, searching for a comeback. Nothing came to mind, so she let him have the last word and went on to the shower. Years ago, one of her relatives had hung a round rod from the trees. Using plastic rings, they'd attached a couple of cheap shower curtains to make a circle. Kate stepped inside, undressed, and tossed her clothing out on a chair sitting at the base of a tree.

That uneasy feeling that meant someone was watching swept over her about the time she turned on the water. She looked up, but there were no birds in the trees and the shower had been deliberately set where it was so that no one from the porch could peer over the top. She checked the ground; not a single spider, bug, or critter of any kind.