Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [160]
Kate couldn't let him talk to Ashley or Caroline. She couldn't let this go any further. She had to get rid of him. But how?
"You're stalling," Tyler said. "I can see the wheels turning in your head.'
"Don't be silly. I'm just busy. I have boxes to unpack before tomorrow, so I'm afraid we'll have to do this some other time."
The phone behind the counter rang, and she reached for it immediately, grateful for the interruption. "Fantasia," she said cheerfully. Her heart sank as she heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line. Will Jenkins ran the Oyster Bar on the waterfront, her father's favorite hangout. "How bad is he?" The answer put her heart into another nosedive. "I'll be right there. Yes, I know. Thanks, Will."
"Trouble?" Tyler inquired as she hung up the phone.
"No." She opened the drawer and pulled out her purse and keys. "I have to go. And so do you."
"You look upset."
"I'm fine." She opened the door, the breeze once again sending goose bumps down her arms. There was change in the air. She could feel it all around her.
"You don't look fine. Is someone hurt?" Tyler waited while she locked the door behind him. "Can I help?"
Kate told herself not to be taken in by the concern in his eyes. He was a reporter. He just wanted a story. "No one can help. You should go home. Back to wherever you came from."
"Thanks, but I think I'll stay a while. With all these sailors in town, I'm sure someone around here will talk to me."
"Suit yourself."
Kate hurried to her car, which she kept parked in back of her store. Tyler Jamison was a problem she hadn't anticipated, but right now she had a more pressing matter to deal with. She turned on the ignition and let out the brake. Her small Volkswagen Jetta shook with another gust of wind. Her father always said if you can't own the wind, you have to ride it out. She had a feeling this was going to be one wild ride.
* * *
"Get me another beer," Duncan McKenna demanded as he put his fist down on top of the bar. He'd meant to slam it down hard, make the glasses jump, but he was too tired. "There was a time when a man could get a beer around here, Will."
The bartender finished drying off a glass at the other end of the bar. "You've had your limit, Duncan. You'll get no more from me tonight. You need to go home and sleep it off."
Sleep it off? He couldn't sleep. Hadn't for years. Oh, he dropped off now and then once the liquor took hold of his mind and gave him a blessed few hours of peace. But that didn't happen often, especially lately ...
"Dammit, Will, I need a drink. I need one bad." He could hear the desperation in his voice, but he couldn't stop it. The need had been building in him all day, growing fiercer with each boat that sailed into the harbor, each dream of a journey, of a race to be sailed and to be won. That had been his world. God, how he missed it, missed the pitch of the waves, the power of the wind, the thrill of the race. Missed the pounding of his heart, the spine-tingling, palm sweating moments when all would be won or all would be lost. What a rush his life had been.
"I need a drink," he repeated.
Will walked down the length of the bar and gave him a hard look. "It won't do you no good, Duncan. I called Kate, and she's on her way."
"Why the hell did you call her?"
"Because you need a ride. You've been in here all day."
"I can get myself home." Duncan tried to stand up, but the room spun around, so he sat back down and held on to the edge of the bar for dear life.
"Sure you can," Will said dryly. "Just sit there. Don't try to leave."
"I'll do what I want," Duncan snapped. "I'm been around the world upside down and backward. I won the goddamn Winston Around-the-World-Challenge. No one thought we could do it. But we did, me and my girls." He paused and let out a weary ... "We were the best, Will. The very best. My girls got heart, just like their old man. They don't quit. I don't quit. McKennas don't quit."
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
And he did know because he'd heard it all before Will was only a few years younger than Duncan, but he'd been