“Priorities? Who … where did you get that from?”
“What do you mean?”
Jack paused, then said, “Nothing, just sounded like something someone else said to me.”
“A woman?”
Jack chuckled. “No. Definitely not. After being your love slave all week, I needed a few moments to regain my strength.”
Natasha smiled and said, “You are so bad.” She looked down the mountain toward the ocean. Below the mountain in front of her were several homes with swimming pools. The homes were built in traditional Spanish style, with red tile roofs and surrounded by white plaster walls that cut through groves of palm trees. Beyond that, she could see the brilliant white crests of the ocean waves breaking out from the deep blue waters.
“It is so beautiful,” she said. She waved to a Mexican family who were heading down to the ocean with small circular fishing nets to throw in the waves. They waved back.
Jack had said that the area was virtually untouched by tourists. He was right. The local populace had not become contaminated by outside influences. Everyone was friendly, but at the same time, privacy was respected. She could not have wished for a better place for the first week of their honeymoon.
Tomorrow they were to continue the second leg of their honeymoon to a more popular and festive resort in Costa Rica. She wished their honeymoon could go on forever.
“I’m glad we came here first,” said Natasha, wrapping her arms around Jack. “It’s so quiet and peaceful. Have you enjoyed it? Do you feel relaxed yet?” she asked, looking deep into his eyes.
“What makes you think I haven’t been relaxed? Being with you makes me the happiest guy in the world!”
“You’ve seemed a little distant all week. Like something is bothering you.”
Jack pulled her close and said, “Someone once told me I let my emotions rule me instead of my brain. Maybe he was right. All week my emotions have been telling me that I could face anything this world could throw at me — as long as we’re together. I don’t think emotions are such a bad thing.”
“Good. I feel the same way.” She kissed Jack warmly on the lips, then giggled and said, “Okay, love slave, your work is not done! Get back inside!”
The morning sun had barely started to lighten the eastern edge of the mountains when Jack quietly slipped out of the villa and made his way down the mountain. At 6:05 he waited outside the rear wall surrounding one of the homes. He stood behind some trees and listened intently, waiting for a sound from within. His concentration precluded him from noticing the light reflect off a pair of binoculars focusing in on him.
People are creatures of habit. Sid Bishop was no different. At six-thirty Jack heard the splash as Sid jumped in his pool to start his morning laps.
He crept over the wall and crouched behind some bird of paradise bushes that obscured the area near the shallow end of the pool. He watched as Sid swam toward him before stepping out to the edge of the pool.
Sid came to an abrupt stop, standing with his head and shoulders out of the water. He wiped his eyes with his fingers and said, “Who are…” He didn’t finish the sentence when he recognized Jack glaring down at him.
“Taggart!” Sid blurted. His eyes and mouth opened wide as he looked around in fright. He tried to yell but his words became bubbles in the water as Jack tackled him.
Sid kicked with his feet and jerked his knees while trying to pull at the hands around his throat. He gulped in water but managed to twist out of Jack’s grasp and grabbed the side of the pool to climb out.
Jack lunged on him again, grabbing the back of his head and smashing his face in a frenzy against the concrete edge of the pool. Sid’s nose broke and he gurgled and tried to scream as broken teeth cut his lips and tongue. His scream was cut short when his head was submerged once more. He tasted blood and felt splinters of teeth in his mouth as his lungs craved for air before giving in and gulping down more water.
Jack stared down at Sid’s eyes in the water. He tried to think of Maggie and Ben Junior as he watched Sid struggle in a futile attempt to reach the surface. The image of the children’s faces was hard to hold on to. A memory of Natasha kept appearing … facing him on the suspension bridge while he gave his promise…
Sid started to vomit as Jack brought his head to the surface.
Jack wanted to scream out at the world in rage. Rage over the grief that this man had caused … and frustration that even with his death, this man could affect his future with Natasha. He eased his grip and saw the colour return to Sid’s face.
Sid read the hesitation in Jack’s face and became emboldened. “You will die for this,” he spluttered. “I will see to that!”
“Wrong thing to say,” said Jack, jerking him by the throat back into the pool. Sid grabbed at his arms and twisted his body like an eel, but Jack held on firm. He stared into Sid’s wide eyes and watched as frothy red bubbles parted his lips. He waited until Sid went limp before pulling him out of the water and laying his body along the edge of the pool.
A shadow appeared over Sid’s body and Jack spun around.
“Natasha! How…?”
She bent down to check Sid’s pulse and said, “I don’t know much about whales, but I do know you don’t spy in people’s swimming pools for them.” She looked up at Jack and said, “He’s still got a pulse. What had you planned on doing with him?”
“I was going to kill him, but then I started thinking…”
“About what?”
“Priorities … my promise to you … letting emotion rule my brain…”
“You’ll never … correction, we’ll never be happy as long as this bastard is alive. Besides, the promise was not to do anything that would land you in jail. This won’t.” Natasha then rolled Sid face down into the pool.
Jack was dumbfounded. “What?” was all he said.
“As a medical practitioner, I would surmise that this man slipped on the edge of the pool, hit his face, then fell unconscious into the water and drowned. As a policeman, what would you say?”
Jack blinked, then looked at Natasha and replied, “I would say that I love you more than life itself.”
“Correct answer, officer.”
chapter one
Holly saw the flash of headlights in the carport and knew that Jack had arrived home. She checked the pot of simmering tomato sauce and turned up the heat. Their daughter, Jenny, at four years of age, was snuggled deep into a corner of the sofa watching television. Charlie, who’d recently had his first birthday, sat on the kitchen floor entertaining himself with an empty pasta box. Spaghetti was what Holly thought her family was going to eat tonight.
“Jenny! Go wash your hands for dinner, sweetie. Daddy is home.”
Jenny was too absorbed in The Simpsons to pay attention.
Holly turned back to the stove, where the pasta sauce was beginning to boil. She felt Charlie’s hug on her leg as she stirred. “Charlie! Daddy’s home! Go see Daddy! Go on!”
Charlie knew the routine, and Holly smiled as he squealed with delight and hurried, taking a few awkward steps before landing on his diapered backside, then scrambling to his feet and disappearing around the corner and down the hall to the door.
Holly caught a glimpse of the cracked window over her kitchen sink. Not much longer. They had lived in the modest rented home for the last four