Diamond Bay Read Free Page B

had been good. B.B.
had been more than a husband, he had been a friend, and they had thought they
had the world on a string. Then B.B.'s violent death had ended that dream and
left Rachel a widow at the age of twenty-five. She quit her job and returned
here to the bay, once again finding solace in the unending sea. She had been
crippled emotionally, but time and the peaceful life had healed her. Still, she
felt no urge to return to the fast-paced life she'd led before. This was home,
and she was happy with what she was doing now. The two souvenir stores provided an
adequate living, and she supplemented her income by writing an occasional
article as well as the adventure books that had done so surprisingly well.
    This summer was almost exactly like all the other summers she had
ever spent at Diamond Bay, except it was hotter. The heat and humidity were
almost stifling, and some days she felt like doing nothing more strenuous than
lying in the hammock and fanning herself. Sundown brought some relief, but even
that was relative. The night brought a light breeze from the Gulf to cool her
heated skin, but it was still too hot to sleep. She had already taken a cool
shower, and now she sat on the front porch swing in the dark, lazily keeping
the swing moving with occasional movements of her foot. The chains squeaked in
time with the chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs; Joe lay on the
porch in front of the screen door, dozing and dreaming his doggy dreams. Rachel closed her eyes, enjoying
the breeze on her face and thinking of what she would do the next day: pretty
much what she had done today, and the day before, but she didn't
mind the repetition. She had enjoyed the old days
of excitement, filled with the peculiar seductive power of danger, yet now she
also enjoyed the peace of her present life.
    Even though she wore only panties and a man's oversize white
shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and first three buttons open, she could still
feel small beads of sweat forming between her breasts. The heat made her
restless, and finally she got to her feet. "I'm going for a walk,"
she told the dog, who flicked an ear at her but didn't open his eyes.
    Rachel hadn't really expected him to join her; Joe wasn't a
friendly dog, not even with her. He was independent and antisocial, backing
away from an outstretched hand with his hackles raised and teeth showing. She
thought he must have been mistreated before he'd shown up in her yard a few
years before, but they had formed a truce. She fed him, and he filled the role
of guard dog. He still wouldn't allow her to pet him, but he would come
instantly to her side if a stranger drove up, and stand there glaring at the
intruder until he either decided there was no danger, or the stranger left. If
Rachel worked in her garden, Joe was usually close by. It was a partnership
based on mutual respect, and both were satisfied with it.
    He really had it easy, Rachel thought as she cut across the yard
and took the path that wound down through the tall pines to the beach. He
wasn't often called on as a guard; few people came to her house, except for the
postman. She was at the dead end of an unpaved road that cut through Rafferty's
property and hers was the only house. John Rafferty was her only neighbor, and he wasn't the type to drop in
for a chat. Honey Mayfield, the local veterinarian, sometimes came by after a
call at the Rafferty ranch, and they had developed a rather close friendship,
but other than that Rachel was pretty much left alone, which was one reason she felt comfortable roaming around at night wearing only her underwear
and a shirt.
    The path sloped down a very gradual incline through the pine
thicket. The stars were bright and heavy in the sky, and Rachel had walked the
path since childhood, so she didn't bother with a flashlight. Even in the pines
she could still see well enough to find her way. It was a quarter of a mile
from the house to the beach, an easy walk. She liked walking