Dangerous Waters Read Online Free
Author: Janice Kay Johnson
did her.
Her mind replayed the rescue over and over. Each time, it seemed more impossible, more frightening. If she had stopped to think, would she have been so quick to dive in? If he had really struggled, had fought her with the mindless fear many drowning victims display, she could well have died out there in the dark water.
When she fell asleep at last, it was to lose herself in a strange, frustrating dream. She was on the starting blocks, every muscle in her body quivering with tension and eagerness. She knew somehow that it was the Olympic games, even though she wasn't conscious of other competitors or officials. But when she dove, the water was dark and cold and all of a sudden she was aware that something more important than a medal was at stake. But the race was endless; she couldn't see, just swam on and on in the darkness, never hitting the wall, never knowing what she pursued. Or what pursued her.
She didn't think, the next morning, that the dream race had ever ended. What did that mean? That the rescue wasn't the end, either? That the killers would be back?
But it wasn't her problem. It was his. Surely he would know why somebody wanted him dead, and could do something about it. She would go see him, accept his thanks, and wish him well. He was a stranger whom she would never see again.
Megan called the clinic first, then her mother. Mrs. Lovell listened in silence to Megan's story, then said quietly, "Part of me is glad you were there. For his sake."
"And the other part?"
"Wishes you had come straight home and never seen anything."
"I don't understand," she said, perplexed.
"Megan, hasn't it occurred to you that when those men find out he was rescued, they're going to know that you saw them? They won't like that."
"But I didn't see them!" Megan protested. "Not close enough to identify."
"Are they going to take that chance?"
She was silent for a moment. "You're scaring me," she said at last.
"I guess I meant to." Her mother's voice softened. "Just...be careful, will you? Until Pete figures out what's going on?"
"I'll be careful," Megan promised. "And I'll make sure that everybody knows I can't identify them. Okay?"
"Okay," Mrs. Lovell agreed. "Do you work today?"
"Are you kidding? It's Sunday. We'll be mobbed."
"Well... Have a good day then. Why don't you have breakfast with us tomorrow morning? We haven't seen much of you for a while.”
"That sounds good, Mom. See you then."
She could have lived without that conversation, Megan thought as she dropped the receiver in the cradle. Trust her mother to worry. Only, she might be right this time.
Was that what her dream had been trying to tell her? Megan wondered. That it might not be over for her, either? That in interfering she had put herself in danger as well?
"That's ridiculous," Megan said aloud. At the sound of her voice, Zachary leaped up eagerly. "No, we're not going anywhere. At least, you're not. No, you have to stay, Zachary. Stay."
Disappointed, the big dog flopped back down. Hobbling, Megan collected her suntan lotion and towels, the lunch she'd made the night before and a book, in case she had a slow moment. Fat chance. Standing in front of the mirror, she brushed her thick, dark hair into a braid to keep it out of her face.
Ten minutes later, she pulled up in front of the clinic. She was apparently expected, so the nurse on duty let her go right in. At least she hoped it was because she was expected. Otherwise, how safe would he be here?
Megan hesitated outside the room, then took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She was inexplicably nervous. When a deep, gravelly voice said, "Come in," she opened it.
The head of the hospital bed was raised to its maximum height so that he sat up, the covers pulled loosely to his waist. Above that, his chest and shoulders were bare. He was beautifully built, with long, sleek muscles and smooth, tanned skin. But what shocked Megan was the angry scar that slanted across his upper abdomen. It
Her mind replayed the rescue over and over. Each time, it seemed more impossible, more frightening. If she had stopped to think, would she have been so quick to dive in? If he had really struggled, had fought her with the mindless fear many drowning victims display, she could well have died out there in the dark water.
When she fell asleep at last, it was to lose herself in a strange, frustrating dream. She was on the starting blocks, every muscle in her body quivering with tension and eagerness. She knew somehow that it was the Olympic games, even though she wasn't conscious of other competitors or officials. But when she dove, the water was dark and cold and all of a sudden she was aware that something more important than a medal was at stake. But the race was endless; she couldn't see, just swam on and on in the darkness, never hitting the wall, never knowing what she pursued. Or what pursued her.
She didn't think, the next morning, that the dream race had ever ended. What did that mean? That the rescue wasn't the end, either? That the killers would be back?
But it wasn't her problem. It was his. Surely he would know why somebody wanted him dead, and could do something about it. She would go see him, accept his thanks, and wish him well. He was a stranger whom she would never see again.
Megan called the clinic first, then her mother. Mrs. Lovell listened in silence to Megan's story, then said quietly, "Part of me is glad you were there. For his sake."
"And the other part?"
"Wishes you had come straight home and never seen anything."
"I don't understand," she said, perplexed.
"Megan, hasn't it occurred to you that when those men find out he was rescued, they're going to know that you saw them? They won't like that."
"But I didn't see them!" Megan protested. "Not close enough to identify."
"Are they going to take that chance?"
She was silent for a moment. "You're scaring me," she said at last.
"I guess I meant to." Her mother's voice softened. "Just...be careful, will you? Until Pete figures out what's going on?"
"I'll be careful," Megan promised. "And I'll make sure that everybody knows I can't identify them. Okay?"
"Okay," Mrs. Lovell agreed. "Do you work today?"
"Are you kidding? It's Sunday. We'll be mobbed."
"Well... Have a good day then. Why don't you have breakfast with us tomorrow morning? We haven't seen much of you for a while.”
"That sounds good, Mom. See you then."
She could have lived without that conversation, Megan thought as she dropped the receiver in the cradle. Trust her mother to worry. Only, she might be right this time.
Was that what her dream had been trying to tell her? Megan wondered. That it might not be over for her, either? That in interfering she had put herself in danger as well?
"That's ridiculous," Megan said aloud. At the sound of her voice, Zachary leaped up eagerly. "No, we're not going anywhere. At least, you're not. No, you have to stay, Zachary. Stay."
Disappointed, the big dog flopped back down. Hobbling, Megan collected her suntan lotion and towels, the lunch she'd made the night before and a book, in case she had a slow moment. Fat chance. Standing in front of the mirror, she brushed her thick, dark hair into a braid to keep it out of her face.
Ten minutes later, she pulled up in front of the clinic. She was apparently expected, so the nurse on duty let her go right in. At least she hoped it was because she was expected. Otherwise, how safe would he be here?
Megan hesitated outside the room, then took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She was inexplicably nervous. When a deep, gravelly voice said, "Come in," she opened it.
The head of the hospital bed was raised to its maximum height so that he sat up, the covers pulled loosely to his waist. Above that, his chest and shoulders were bare. He was beautifully built, with long, sleek muscles and smooth, tanned skin. But what shocked Megan was the angry scar that slanted across his upper abdomen. It
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