Eyes of Fire by Heather Graham

husky.
    The beer, she thought.
    â€œI was down in the Everglades on a sting operation when it came.”
    â€œWell, that would have been years ago now. Are you always so quick with your correspondence?”
    â€œA neighbor was picking up my mail. The letter wound up on her counter, then fell behind her stove, and she finally found it over a year later, and by then…” He shrugged.
    It sounded like one of the worst stories Sam had heard in her life but, oddly enough, she believed him. Not because the story was believable, but because of the way he told it.
    â€œ She was picking up your mail, huh?” Sam murmured.
    â€œ She was sixty-six. I don’t think there was any ulterior motive behind the accident. If you’d really wanted me, you could have called.”
    â€œIt’s difficult to call someone who has ignored your rather desperate appeal for help.”
    â€œYou know damned well I would have done anything I could to help your father.”
    â€œWell, at least I don’t have to feel like such a fool for attempting to reach you last year when Hank disappeared. But what happened then? Was your neighbor collecting your mail again?”
    His glare assured her that he didn’t find her amusing. He shook his head, lifting the beer, taking another long swallow. Then he looked at her, his eyes silver and very sharp. “I was out of the country last year, working for private concerns. My mail was all held at the South Miami post office—feel free to check on that.”
    â€œOh.”
    He exhaled in exasperation. “I was in Africa, river diving for industrial diamonds.”
    â€œI didn’t ask you for a detailed explanation.”
    â€œYou don’t seem willing to believe one, either.”
    She shrugged. “So what are you doing here now?”
    Once again he lifted his shoulders, and she knew she was going to receive an evasive reply. But he suddenly stared directly at her. “Unusual things have been happening in this area with some frequency.”
    â€œMy father disappeared, Hank disappeared. Other than that, not a damned thing besides your run-in with the drug dealers years ago has happened here.”
    He arched a brow. “Nothing unusual has happened? What about just now? Or was that your usual evening? Were you just indulging in some kind of kinky sex in there tonight? Should I have kept out of it?”
    Sam refused to dignify that with an answer. She walked across the room to the treasure map, studying it as she spoke. “I haven’t had the first unusual thing happen here—until your arrival.”
    â€œYour father’s disappearance wasn’t unusual?”
    She spun on him, fighting a wild tug-of-war to keep her emotions under control. She had loved her father. She’d never even known her mother; Justin had been all she’d had. And he had made her the center of his universe. When he had first disappeared, she had refused to believe it, yet as the days went by and no sign of him was found, she had known that he was dead. He would never have stayed away from her if there had been a breath of life left in him.
    â€œMy father is dead,” she said softly.
    He didn’t deny it. He merely asked quietly, “And don’t you want to know why?”
    She shook her head stubbornly. “I do know why! The sea is a vengeful mistress.”
    â€œWhat about Hank?” Adam demanded. “Didn’t he disappear just the same damned way—without a trace?”
    She threw up her hands. “They both went out alone in small boats. Adam, the sea doesn’t always give up her dead.”
    â€œYeah, well, if I understand things correctly, she didn’t give up so much as a jagged piece of lumber after the disappearance of either man.”
    â€œAdam, you know that massive ships have disappeared completely. The ocean is huge.”
    â€œSam, you’re being blind. And things are getting worse.