High Tide by Jude Deveraux Page A

kept on walking. He’d disappeared somewhere on the boat, and when he’d reappeared later, he’d been dry and composed—and he had looked at Fiona with the cool disdain he always wore when he looked at her. No one would have guessed the intimacy that had recently happened between them.
    But Fiona remembered the scene too well. “Florida doesn’t agree with me,” she said, making a feeble attempt at a joke—and some human contact—as he helped her off the boat.
    But he didn’t smile or acknowledge her attempt at levity in any way. His face was grim.
    If he could forget the scene, so could she, she thought. Once on shore she looked about. She had no idea where they were, but there was a Jeep waiting for them, so one of the two men must have called ahead from the boat. Ace put his hand under her elbow to help her into the car, but she jerked away.
    â€œI am not an invalid,” she snapped as she propelled herself into the car. He tossed his duffel bag and her backpack ontothe backseat, slammed the door, then got into the driver’s side, and the next moment they were on the highway.
    â€œIs it too much to ask where you’re taking me?”
    â€œTo the police,” he said tersely.
    â€œAh, yes. Since I’m a criminal, right?”
    He didn’t answer but just kept driving.
    â€œWould it do any good to tell you that I didn’t kill a man who is twice my size and probably twice my strength?”
    â€œI’ve seen your strength,” he said.
    â€œI thought you were being eaten alive!” she screamed at him. “Why can’t you understand that? I didn’t stop and think about whether or not that creature was real or not, I just reacted.”
    Ace was very calm, exaggeratedly calm, as though he knew he was dealing with an insane person. “I know. And I’m sure that when Roy attacked you, you didn’t stop and think either; you just pulled his knife out of its case and stabbed him.”
    â€œI was hard asleep. I hadn’t slept in two days, remember? And the knife I had in my hand was lying on the bed beside me. It wasn’t in a case.”
    â€œHis knife was always in the case he wore about his waist. I’m sure you saw it.”
    â€œNo, I did not,” she said through her teeth. “How could anyone see anything underneath that belly of his? And I didn’t look anyway.”
    Ace turned the steering wheel sharply as he made a right turn. “Look, why don’t you have some coffee? Eric made a fresh pot for us.”
    â€œWasn’t that kind of him? Did he make it before or after he killed Roy?”
    Ace gave her a sharp look before looking back at the road, but he said nothing.
    â€œWhy am I to presume that
you
are innocent? Or that the other man is? If
I
didn’t kill him, then one of you two did.”
    Ace didn’t seem perturbed by what she was saying. “It’s a matter of motive. I lose any possibility of getting money for Kendrick Park with Roy’s death, and Eric no longer has a job.”
    When he said no more, Fiona had to think about what he was saying. “You think that I killed the man just to get out of a fishing trip?” She was incredulous.
    â€œYou were awfully unhappy about being there, so maybe you had deeper reasons.”
    At that Fiona looked out the window and tried to judge how fast they were going. At least sixty. If she jumped out of a car going this fast, she’d break every bone in her body.
    With a sigh, she picked up the big silver Thermos at her feet and poured herself a cup of coffee, drank it, then poured Ace one and handed the cup to him. What the hell? she thought as she put her hand on the door latch. If the police were as stupid and as implacable as this man, this was her last night of freedom forever.
    But at Fiona’s first movement, Ace put his hand on her forearm, the empty coffee cup falling to the floor. “Don’t do