Grave Danger. Katy Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ me?” Lydia stepped back into the porch railing, reaching for anything to separate her from this too-good-looking bulldog. She settled for her hands on her abdomen. She knew his kind. He was probably a jock in high school who steered clear of the brainy girls—if he noticed them at all.

      “You look beaten.” Through his long strands of hair, he eyed her fidgeting hands, and she stilled them. “Did Boss Man change your plans?”

      Lydia raised her chin a bit, but then chose truth over bravado. “You’ll be happy to know I won’t be digging on your precious island tomorrow. Dr. Webber has requested I take the skeleton back to the lab for a consult to determine age in the lab with the right equipment. However, I would like the area to be protected until the report is finished. Just in case.”

      “Why isn’t he coming?”

      “He’s consulting for a museum.”

      “Museum consulting.” The sheriff’s jaw ticked. The man was going to grind down his molars if he didn’t learn to relax a little. “Look, Doc, I don’t see how some pharaoh’s tomb, or whatever is keeping him, is more important than this. I need to assure the islanders their home is safe. It would appear Dr. Webber doesn’t think Stepping Stones is worth the trip, so I would like for you to identify this skeleton before you leave.”

      “I have to decline.”

      “And why’s that?”

      “Because...because I’ll lose my job.”

      “How about off the record, then? You know you can’t leave us here in good conscience with no answers.”

      Lydia bit her lower lip. Returning to her lab would mean handing this case over to Webber or, worse, one of the others to solve. But staying on Stepping Stones could kill her career completely.

      And why should she trust this man anyway? He didn’t trust her. She had to be crazy to even be considering this. “I’ll lose my job,” she whispered more to herself, and wondered if she already hadn’t. What would her father say then?

      “I’m sure that’s a possibility, Doc,” Sheriff Grant stated quietly, and pushed his mussed-up hair out of his eyes. She noticed his intense blues soften in the lantern light. She also noticed the way her fingers twitched when he cleared away his hair. Shock smacked her in the chest as she realized she’d wanted to reach up and do the same.

      But then Sheriff Grant’s words stopped any thoughts of touching his hair. He understood the risk she would be taking by staying to help him. Lydia pressed her lips. Her decision would determine the path for the rest of her career, even life. And following this man whom she didn’t know in the least might lead her to never work again.

      Or maybe this was the path God had prepared for her all along. Maybe this skeleton was God’s way of boosting her career. Maybe this was her chance to prove she was capable. Prove it to Webber, and prove it to her father.

      She prayed silently for God’s direction, but she also knew she could only stay and work with Wesley Grant if he was a believer. “Are you a Christian?” she asked him straight out.

      Sheriff Grant hesitated, and she thought he would say no. The words practically molded to his lips, but something stopped him from voicing them. His bullishness faded a bit, and he said, “I used to be. Why?”

      Lydia breathed a little easier at his answer. It wasn’t an outright no. This really could be her ticket for an upgrade, after all. “Before I decide to team up with you, I want to make sure we have the same guide.”

      “And if we don’t?”

      “But we do. Even if you’ve given up on God during this time of your life, He hasn’t given up on you. He’s still leading you.”

      “I highly doubt it. When my parents died within two years of each other, I considered God dead to me, too. But if it makes you stay, you can believe whatever you like.”

      “I believe you still belong to Him, so for that reason, you can count me in, Sheriff.” A bit of fear mixed with a jolt of excitement coursed through her at the sound of her agreeable words springing from her lips. She felt a hesitant smile form as Sheriff Grant extended his hand to shake. Lydia reached for it and verbalized her confounding thoughts. “I’ve never done anything so insensible. My career could end up in the same condition as the skeleton. Dead.” Or it could skyrocket.

      Whatever Your will, let it be, God. With that, Lydia shook Sheriff Grant’s hand with conviction. “Let’s do it. Let’s identify this woman.”

      As she gave his hand a few good pumps, she noticed how it enveloped her thin-boned one with triple the size and strength. Sheriff Wesley Grant was one strong man and could overpower her in an instant. The thought caused a little fear of him to sprout. Perhaps losing her job shouldn’t be her only concern. Doubts flickered in her mind about this man with whom she’d just struck a deal. Should she have done a little digging into the life of Wesley Grant before she signed over anyone’s death certificate to him?

      Sheriff Grant’s piercing blue eyes peeked through his blond strands again. She got the feeling he was questioning her sincerity, too. Seconds ticked by while she made the decision to fully trust him. She let go and decided only time would tell.

      “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you your island isn’t as safe as you think,” Lydia said, breaking their analyzing silence. “Someone may not want this body found, and that someone is most likely one of your islanders. Other people could be in danger.”

      He nodded solemnly. “I agree the islanders could be in danger, but I can’t believe one of our own did this.” His tough voice from before was now threaded with sadness. “Meet me at 8:00 a.m. at the Underground Küchen Restaurant on the pier. Time is critical. I can’t and won’t let harm come to this island or its people. I owe them that much.”

      “Owe them? For what?”

      Sheriff Grant turned and grabbed the handle to the screen door. “Let’s just say I had my own little brush with the law once. Someone tried to pin a theft on me. The islanders believed in me when no one else did, and for that, I owe them.”

      * * *

      How do you sign “Thank you”? Lydia scrawled out her message on the pad of paper Miriam Matthews carried with her to help her converse with the hearing world.

      The woman’s golden-red hair draped prettily around her elegant face as she bent to read the note from behind the wheel of her SUV. The deaf woman had given Lydia a ride into town on her way to the high school where she worked as the school’s principal. A smile blossomed on her lips when she lifted her pretty face. She brought her right-hand fingertips to her mouth, then pulled her hand straight out in front of her to demonstrate the sign.

      Lydia mimicked the hand motion a few times until she got it right. She wanted to say, “Thank you for the ride,” but with no knowledge of American Sign Language, she had to settle for only “Thank you.” She made a mental note to buy and memorize a sign-language book.

      As she reached for the door handle to exit, the breathtaking view out her passenger window caused her to linger. Beyond the boardwalk and its quaint gray clapboard shops was a long wooden pier reaching out to the expansive, shimmering sea. Sharp rocks with spraying swells dotted the water far below the pier. From inside the car, she could hear their steady, rushing sounds that lulled her into a state СКАЧАТЬ