Blue eyes widened beneath tousled white-blond hair. Moonlight washed the kid to ghost-pale. Youre not going to tell her, are you, mister? I swear we didnt mean nothing by it. We climb up that old tree sometimes and peek in the window of the haunted house. We didnt think there was anyone in there, honest!
And the lights didnt give you a clue? Dale asked sternly, wondering when his boyhood home had gained a ghost.
The blond head shook vigorously. Its haunted. I told you. Sometimes there are lights in there but nobodys home. We thought it was the ghosts, and I dared Eddie to go look and he dared me right back, and He trailed off and finally shrugged. We thought the lady might be a ghost. Then she screamed and you came running Hey, whatre you doing in there, anyway? That house belongs to my daddys cousin!
Mickey. Dales throat closed. Micks infrequent letters had mentioned his sons, but the boys hadnt seemed real when Dale had been sitting in his cubbyhole office in Boston General, reading the piles of mail that gathered dust while he was on assignment. But this boy was so much more than words on a piece of paper. He was a little person who looked like Mickey.
At a second furtive rustle, Dale said, You can come on out. I might not even tell your ma.
The second boy, a smaller version of the first, crept from a shadowy beach plum and crouched at his brothers side. Sorry, mister. We didnt mean to scare the lady. DJ thought she was a ghost.
DJ. The elder of the two was named Dale John. Mickey had mentioned it in passing, but Dale hadnt given it much thought.
Now, he sat stunned. He had family. How had he forgotten that? Or had he known it all along and not wanted to deal with the responsibilities that went with it? Trask had taught him that connections meant loss. Hurt. Anger.
Life in Boston was easier without all of those things.
A loud rustle and a series of thumps startled the boys, who squeaked in alarm and backpedaled on their skinny butts. A circle of yellow light slipped through the garden gate, followed by the shape of a woman.
Dale?
Over here, Tans, he called. I caught your Peeping Toms.
Toms? The flashlight beam bounced toward them. As in, more than one?
Dale stood and hauled the boys to their feet, feeling the adrenaline level out, leaving confusion behind. Yeah. But they didnt mean any harm. They thought you were a ghost.
Shed changed into jeans and a hand-knit sweater like the one he was wearing. Dale felt the boys relax at his side when she flicked the beam of light to her own face. Nope, she said, no ghost, though they did almost scare me to death. She leaned down and offered a hand. Im Tansy.
In the yellow light, the boys hair shone brighter, their eyes seemed bluer. The younger one shook Tansys hand. Im Eddie and my stomach feels funny.
The older boy frowned. Im DJ, and dont listen to him, his stomach always feels funny. Then he scuffed the dirt with his toe. Sorry we scared you, lady. We didnt think there was anyone in the house, honest. Dont tell Ma, okay?
Dale had often heard similar words from Mickey when theyd been caught committing some boyhood crime or another.
He swallowed. Run on home now, boys. Miss Tansy and I have work to do. His voice cracked but he didnt care. Ill be by to talk to your pa later, but dont worry. Thisll be our secret.
When they were gone, Tansy clicked off the flashlight. They stood awkwardly in the darkness until she finally said the words hed been dreading. I thought you were a rich kid from Boston.
Hed known it would hurt her to learn he was a fraud. Hed imagined how the disappointment would cross her face, and how she would rally quickly and try to pretend his past didnt matter when they both knew it did. Hed known all that.
What he hadnt known was how hard it would be to admit that it had all been a lie.
He sighed and tried to make the first cut a clean, lethal one. Thats what you were supposed to think, Tansy. Thats what everyone thought. When she didnt answer, he took the flashlight, clicked it on and gestured back to the house. Lets go inside.
But as they walked in silence, Dale realized he didnt want to talk about it. He didnt know what to say. They entered the kitchen and Tansy returned the flashlight to the box Libby had left.
After a moment, she turned to him. Just tell me this, Dale. Who the hell are you?
He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. At Boston General, he knew who he was. On assignment, he knew. But on Lobster Island?
He had no idea.
THE SILENCE STRETCHED until Tansy began to doubt Dale was going to speak at all. Then she saw his eyes flickering the way they did when he was mentally flipping through diagnoses and treatment options. He was trying to choose an answer.
Never mind. She held up a hand to stop the lie. It would be one of many, she now realized, just as she now understood that the man shed fallen in love with was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Like mother, like daughter. Whitmore women fell for the schemers. She took a hurting breath that barely moved the stone-heavy pressure on her chest. Tell me the truth or nothing, okay, Dale? You owe me that much.
When he remained silent, she nodded and hid the disappointment down deep, alongside most of the memories of her father. Fine. Ill check the lab equipment and see whats salvageable. You shower, and then we can head for the motel clinic. The sooner we solve this outbreak, the sooner we can get out of here. The sooner she could request to be transferred away from Boston. Away from Dale.
She would not repeat her mothers mistakes.
When he didnt answer, she turned toward the salt-encrusted cases piled in the hallway.
Tansy. His quiet word brought her up short, but she didnt look back. She didnt want to see his gleaming blue eyes. Didnt want to remember how his features had been mirrored in the faces of those two boys out in the lane.
Didnt want to think that shed once imagined their sons looking just like that.
Its okay, Dale, she finally said. I can handle it. She crouched down near the pile of equipment and waved at the stairs, hiding her face so he wouldnt see the hurt. Go shower. We need to see our patients.
The job. Concentrate on the job. Medicine gave her control. Research told her the truth.
Dale didnt.
He headed for the stairs, pulling the bulky sweater off over his head as he walked. He stopped near her in the narrow hallway, and Tansy was enveloped in familiar warmth. Only this time, it was laced with something new. Something hotter and harder than the pull shed felt toward Dale Metcalf, playboy, or even Dr. Metcalf, field researcher.
Her whole relationship with Dale had been based on a lie, yet she still wanted him.
Afraid if she looked into his eyes hed see the hunger, she stared straight ahead at the place where the sinew and bone of his shoulder gave way to the hard planes of his chest. The scorpion tattoo, blurred with time, dominated her view.
Only it wasnt a scorpion.
She reached out a finger and traced the curve of a tail, the pair of wicked hooked claws. Its a lobster.
Dale sucked in a breath when she touched him, and his body went rigid. Aye. Its a lobstah.
Dale sucked in a breath when she touched him, and his body went rigid. Aye. Its a lobstah.
And his voice was pure Island.
Startled, she looked up at him. Trapped in the potent blue of his eyes, she didnt move when he stepped closer, crowding her. Tempting her.
You want to know who I am, Tansy? He leaned close so he was almost whispering in her ear. Ill tell you who Im not. Im not a prep-school boy, and Im not a gentleman. She quivered as his words ran across her bare neck and heat coiled in her stomach.
She could turn her head just a fraction, and their lips would touch. She could run and never look back.
In the instant before she made the decision, he made it for her. He stepped away. His muscles were corded with tension and he gripped the banister like a lifeline. Check the equipment, we leave in ten minutes. And remember, Im not the Dale Metcalf you thought you knew. The next time I have you up against a wall, Im not going to back away.
Though the image churned her stomach into sharp, sizzling knots, Tansy rounded on him as he climbed the stairs. Dont even think youre calling the shots here, Dale. I wont stand for it. I could have died in that plane crash. Dont you think that entitles me to know what the hell is going on?
No, he snapped back from the second floor. I think it entitles you to a one-way ticket home the second I can arrange it. I knew I shouldnt have let you come with me.
Let me? Her voice climbed several octaves, though she wasnt sure why she was fighting the idea. She should want to escape the island. To escape Dale and the insane pull he exerted on her. Let me? Nobody let me do anything, Dale. This is my job, and
The slam of the bathroom door cut her off.
Oooh, she said, popping the first of the cases open. Jerk.
All her life it had been this way. Her father had shared his wealth freely with his only childas well as his mistressesbut hed expected her to marry well and bring her husband into the family business. Her mother had nodded and smiled in public, then gone through his pockets at night, weeping over the matchbooks and hotel receipts.
For all Tansy knew, she still did.
Theyd been horrified when Tansy had used part of her trust fund to pay for med school and donated the rest to HFH. Shed met Dale on her first assignment. Hed shoved a field pack at her and said, Dale Metcalf. Glad to have you here. There are two little girls trapped under a beam in the second house on the right. Dont slow me down.
And though shed later learnedor thought she hadthat he came from the same social stratum as her parents, Dale had never coddled her, never expected any less of her than he did from the male doctors. At first, it had been a relief. Then an annoyance when she realized it was because he never let anyone past the brittle outer shell of false charm.
Never let anyone inside.
Well, she muttered, glancing again at the dark squares of wood on the walls, wondering what story the missing pictures might have told. Im inside. Sort of. Now what the hell do I do?
Is this a private conversation, or may I intrude?
Tansy screeched and spun toward the voice, jerking her hands into the attack position shed been taught before her first overseas assignment. Go for the eyes and the crotch, the instructors voice shouted in her head. Use any weapon you can find!
The stranger stumbled back a pace and held his hands up. Whoa, whoa! Easy there.
She froze, vibrating with a tension she hadnt consciously recognized. Then again, her reaction was understandable. Alice had fallen down the rabbit hole, into the ocean, and come out somewhere on an island populated by Dale Metcalf clones. It hadnt been a banner day up to this point. Considering their next stop was a makeshift clinic where people were dying of a nonfatal disease, she had little hope of it improving.
Especially not with a stranger standing in the kitchen.
She glared at the tall, silver-haired man, and was almost surprised to see that his eyes were brown, not blue. She relaxed a fraction, though she kept her weight on the balls of her feet as shed been taught. Who are you and what are you doing here?
The water cut off upstairs. She raised her voice and called, Dale? We have company.
The strangers eyes glinted with approval. Smart of you, though not necessary. I know youre not alone. Ive come to give you and Dale a ride to the clinic. He held out a hand. Im Walter Churchill.
Of all the characters shed met so far in this not-quite-Wonderland, Churchill was the biggest surprise. Cultured, elegant, and turned out in a charcoal suit and burgundy tie, he would have been right at home in one of the chichi clubs in the Theater District near Boston General. He also acted as though she should know him.
Then again, she probably would know him if Dale had told her the truth about his past.
Stifling the flash of resentment, she shook the proffered hand. Dr. Tansy Whitmore. Pleased to meet you. I think.
Then she heard movement on the stairs behind her and Dales quiet, level voice. Churchill.
She glanced back and her mouth dried to dust when the sight of Dale dressed in jeans and a homespun sweater drove home just how strange a situation she was in. The borrowed denim clung to his long thighs and lean calves, and rode low at his flat waist. He cocked a hip against the stair handrail and fixed the older man with a look. How did you get in here?
A parade of emotions passed across Churchills face, too quick, too deep for Tansy to read. Finally, he sighed and said, The kitchen door was open, so I let myself in. Ive never needed an invitation before.
Dale flushed and rubbed his unshaven jaw. Sorry. Im in a mood. Its good to see you, Churchill.
Tansy had thought herself beyond shock. She was wrong. Dale? You know this man? That was a foolish question. Of course Dale knew the stranger, it was becoming clear that he knew everyone on the island.
Yeah. He glanced down at her. I promised you an explanation. Well, heres the short version. I was born here. My parents and my aunt died in a boating accident when I was seventeen, and my uncle Trask took it out on me. Churchill was a friend of my parents. He helped me escape to the mainland and put me through college and med school, for which I am eternally grateful.
Yet Tansy noticed little warmth on Dales face when he scowled down at the older man. She waited a heartbeat. Then another. Tell me, she wanted to scream, tell me more. Let me in! But the words had never worked before. They werent likely to now.
Finally, she turned back to the medical instruments. Fine. Nice to meet you, Mr. Churchill. She slapped the cases shut. Come on. Lets get over to the clinic.
Ignoring the men, she grabbed two equipment cases at random and hauled them to the front door. She paused at the sight of the shiny new black SUV in the driveway.
Someone on this island had money, it appeared.
Frankie will get the rest of your boxes, Churchill murmured behind her as the drivers door opened and an enormous woman in chauffeurs livery emerged to tower over the vehicle. She didnt say a word as she brushed past Tansy and picked up the remainder of the equipment cases in a single load.
The word Amazon came to mind. So did bodyguard.
Who the hell was this Churchill? Tansy shot Dale a look, but he avoided her silent question by bending to shift one of the cases in the trunk. She scowled and ducked into the SUV when Frankie held the door open. The black interior smelled of new leather and money. A lethal-looking Doberman sat in the front, between the seats. It faced the passengers and curled a tan lip when Tansy slid inside.