Shadows 03 Greek Shadows Read online

  “I believe you, PJ.” Susanna remained silent for a moment and then asked, “What about Terry?”

  “Terry tried to rekindle Kim’s interest in her and failed. She attempted to break us up and came on to me, but I turned her down.”

  “In what way did she try to break up your relationship?”

  “By using our insecurities against us.”

  She was quiet after that, so I figured I was supposed to continue. I twisted my tissue and forged ahead. “Kim is older than I am. It sometimes worries her that I might lose interest, or that she’ll get sick and become a burden.”

  “Is her age a problem for you?”

  “Hell, no! Not for me. I love her just as she is - gray hairs and all.”

  “Okay. What did Terry think she could use against you?”

  I felt my neck and cheeks heat up. “I’m not as… um… experienced in the art of loving a woman.”

  “You feel inadequate?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Terry told you that you were inexperienced?”

  “She made me think Kim would prefer a more experienced lover, someone capable, like herself.”

  “Has Kim given you reason to think you aren’t capable?”

  “Oh, God, no… nothing like that. We never had any trouble until we found Terry’s underwear in our dresser drawer, and we each thought the other had been unfaithful. That’s when we had our first big fight and Kim left.” I swallowed hard, remembering the pain.

  “Anyway, when Terry came to the room later, I told her to leave, but she got aggressive with me in a sexual way. I tried to fight her - I really did.” Tears blinded me, and my voice cracked, as it all came flooding back.

  Susanna offered me the box of tissues again. “Do you blame yourself for her attack, PJ?”

  I dabbed my eyes and shook my head, unable to speak.

  “It’s okay. Take it easy. You had two traumatic experiences close together. Each one in itself was enough to unbalance even the strongest of women. You’re entitled to be upset.”

  *

  Now, it was weeks later, and we were thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean. I sat up suddenly in my seat. I must have squeezed Kim’s hand because her eyes flew open, and we shared a startled look.

  “Oh, geez. I’m so sorry I woke you. I had a dream… it’s just those awful memories.” I patted her cheek, brushing my lips against hers. “Go on back to sleep, okay?”

  Chapter 2

  I had only been dozing off and on, but admitting sleeplessness to PJ wouldn’t have helped. She would only worry about me, and she already had so much to resolve in her own life right now. I soothed her back to sleep with a few calming words. Then, remaining alert, I watched over her, marveling at the strange and wonderful way destiny had brought us - two such different human beings - together. We hadn’t planned on falling in love; I never thought I could love anyone again. Yet, here we sat, her hand inside mine, our fingers intertwined, holding us together like the weave of fine cloth.

  I shifted slightly and gazed through the window. Beneath the wings of the sleek, private jet, the Atlantic stretched from horizon to horizon; a restless, endless, empty sea. What would await us at the other end of that sea?

  I had gone without sleep much of the time since we received Sandy’s e-mail and follow-up call. Our time in Boston had been hectic enough without the thought of another assignment, but Sandy had persuaded us to drop everything and join him.

  PJ’s father, Frederick Lane Curtis, had agreed, saying, “You both need to be involved again in what you do best.”

  It had meant a hectic few days of preparation. And then, there was that ugly business at the airport with those damn reporters. I had been lost in thought and came to in a cold sweat when PJ squeezed my hand. In addition to my concern for her, I was having frequent nightmares - frightening replays of the night that Terry assaulted her. Visiting a shrink was not my idea of fun, but I had promised to meet with Dr. Armstrong, mostly to please PJ.

  Dr. Armstrong was a pleasant, attractive woman who lulled me into a sense of ease as I relaxed in her office recliner. “Just tell me in your own words,” she had said, “what bothers you most about the events in Wales, especially about what happened between you and Terry.”

  I wondered if Dr. Armstrong was using some form of hypnosis on me because words came pouring out, despite my determination to keep silent. It was no wonder that PJ held her in such high regard.

  “My former lover was in excellent physical condition,” I told her, “but I found the strength to pull her off PJ and literally throw her across the room.”

  She leaned forward, pad in hand, pen poised. “Have you ever lost control or harbored such anger before this?”

  My shoulders shifted against the recliner, and I pondered her questions. “A few times. I can remember losing it when I was a teenager and some boys threw firecrackers at my dog.”

  “Okay.” Dr. Armstrong made some notes. “Anything more recent?”

  “I’m sure I’ve had arguments with colleagues over the years, but I don’t remember doing anything physical. Oh, there was that incident with PJ’s so-called fiance, Stephen Cresswell.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that episode. Apparently, all of the members of your crew felt some form of outrage over how he treated PJ.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “So, apart from those few instances, you’ve been able to keep your anger in check until now?”

  I noticed that my palms were moist and that I now had a death-grip on the arms of the recliner. When did I get so tense? I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax. “Uh, yes. I’ve always thought that it took a lot to make me lose my composure. I pride myself on being self-controlled.”

  Dr. Armstrong tapped the pen against her chin. “But things changed that night?”

  “Things definitely changed.”

  “Why is that, do you think?”

  My hands flexed along the recliner’s arms. I flashed back to our bedroom in Wales, PJ bleeding, but fighting Terry with her last ounce of strength. Sweat formed on my forehead and neck. The rage emerged in full force. “It was PJ,” I blurted out. “The woman I love more than life itself was being attacked and in pain. It’s like this fury possessed me.” I swiped at my eyes. Much to my embarrassment, the sweat had changed to tears. “That night, I realized I had the ability to kill.”

  Dr. Armstrong quickly added more notes to her pad, pushing the box of tissues in my direction. “Do you think you could have killed Terry, if you hadn’t been interrupted?”

  “I really don’t know.” I dabbed at my eyes and blew my nose. “I do know that I wanted to tear her apart, to punish her.” I took a ragged breath. “So yes, I guess I would have killed her if we’d been left alone.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “It frightens me. No matter what Terry did, I had no right to make myself her judge, jury, and executioner.” I wadded the damp tissue into a ball. “But when I broke her nose, and her blood spattered over me, the desire to kill was so strong. I was like a shark attracted to blood in the water. I’ve read where some human behaviorists believe that we’re all capable of murder.”

  “And now, recalling those emotions, how do you feel?”

  “Like I said, it scares me, but perhaps what they say is true - that it’s always there, lying dormant inside all of us. The urge to protect those closest to us is equally strong in human or beast. So are we so very different?”

  Dr. Armstrong leaned back in her seat. “That’s a very interesting question, Kim. There are many schools of thought on that subject. I tend to think that humans and animals have a lot of common traits, especially when love enters the picture and, as you say, the ‘urge to protect what is near and dear’ to us is threatened.”

  “Loving someone has caused me pain in the past. Then, when Terry left, let’s just say I was reluctant to ever put myself in that position again.”

  “Understandable.”

  “B
ut this new love… with PJ.”

  Dr. Armstrong waited and then gave me a little nudge. “Yes?”

  I felt tears threaten again. “It’s painful, too, for different reasons. I don’t want anything to happen to her. I can’t bear the thought of losing her, of losing what we have.”

  “Kim, I don’t think I’d be betraying a confidence if I told you that she feels the same way about you. What you two have is a very special bond. It’s precious, but it needs space to grow and strengthen.”

  “That’s hard to do. Especially now, when she’s so fragile.”

  “We’re working on that. Give her time. She’s more resilient than you think.”

  I sighed. “If you say so.”

  “Besides, she’s worried about protecting you from yourself.”

  We stared at each other for several long seconds.

  “I’m here because I love her, and I made a promise to her. I can handle it.”

  Dr. Armstrong glanced at the clock and stood up. “Our time’s just about up, and I can tell that you’re not eager to return.” I rose and shook her hand. “No offense, but you’re right.” She held onto my hand an extra beat. “I feel I can help you, but the choice is yours. Know though, that should you ever feel your control slipping, I’ll be here for you. I believe in the power of love, Kim.”

  *

  The muffled roar of the jet’s engines lulled me into a light sleep. I awoke quickly when PJ stirred and snuggled back against my shoulder. I pressed my lips to her forehead and whispered, “I would gladly kill, or be killed, to protect you.”

  My thoughts strayed to Terry, and again I felt the familiar burning anger inside me. I hoped she was out of our lives forever, because if I were to ever see her again, I don’t know how I’d react or what I’d do. Blodwyn Jones, the young police sergeant who had been so helpful to us in Wales, had kept in touch. She wrote that Terry had skipped bail and, though missing, remained actively wanted by the Welsh authorities. My former lover was smart. She wouldn’t likely risk coming anywhere near us in the future.

  Without moving my upper body, I stretched my legs. It had been a wet summer and I was feeling it in my joints. “What about that?” I whispered, my lips brushing PJ’s forehead. “You have an old woman on your hands. But, by the Gods, you know how to make me feel young and frisky.”

  “Mmm, I love having you on my hands,” PJ said, opening her eyes.

  We giggled over her risque comment and might have done more, but Stacie came into the main cabin and asked if we would like some tea.

  “Earl Grey,” PJ said, without hesitation. “And some cashews.” She straightened up and stretched. Her body was lithe, like a cat, and when she stretched that way it always sent my aging hormones racing.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Uh-huh. You?”

  “Raring to go.”

  “You know, I was thinking about some of the things Susanna told me - about what happens to us in life. How everything is the starting point for further growth.”

  “I suspect she’s right.”

  Stacie brought us a tray of tea, a plate of shortbread cookies, and the Curtis specialty, cashews. We enjoyed our snack with the bright sun shining into the interior of the cabin. The window broke the rays into hundreds of rainbow-colored lights.

  “It’ll be good seeing Sandy again,” PJ said, using both hands to cradle her cup.

  I remembered the young man who had befriended her and helped her through her first uneasy days in Arizona. “He really wanted you, you know, until we discovered each other.”

  PJ laughed. “Yeah, I guess he did. And for a while, I was tempted to get involved with him, but I came to my senses and set my sights on you instead.”

  I squeezed her thigh. “And, I’m glad you did.”

  She took a sip of tea. “Besides, I was way too old for him. I would have stunted his growth.”

  “Probably.” I took a long swallow and bit into a cookie.

  “Do you remember the look on Sandy’s face when he walked in on us that day in camp? Your shoulder was bothering you, and I had you strip to the waist and lay face down on the cot so I could give you a massage.” She nodded, smiling. “There I was, straddling your hips. I don’t know what he thought was going on, but the look on his face was priceless.”

  “Yeah, I remember. I don’t know which of us was more embarrassed, him or me.”

  “True.”

  “So,” I said between bites of crumbling shortbread, “do I stunt your growth?”

  PJ stared into my eyes, perhaps trying to determine if my question had been serious. “You know better than that,” she said. “I need someone with experience and wisdom to keep me grounded.”

  With my mouth so full I couldn’t respond, other than to plant a kiss on her lips, leaving a trail of crumbs, which I forced myself to clean up.

  PJ put her cup down. “I love you, even if you do rein me in at times.”

  “I rein you in? That’s a joke.”

  She gave my ribs a swift poke.

  Stacie came to remove our tray, and PJ nestled against me, falling asleep almost at once. She was relaxed, despite having gone through so much. I wanted to believe that she was getting over this bad spell in her life. Everything that had happened to her was, in effect, due to her association with me, a fact that made me feel lousy. I gazed over the top of her head through the jet’s small window.

  Beneath us, the Atlantic moved unceasingly toward its destiny, mesmerizing me with its vastness.

  Despite everything that happens to us, we are just microscopic bits of a huge global picture that includes that expansive ocean beneath us. Do we really know what the future has in store for us any more than we know all that lies beneath those endless waves?

  Every day, oceanographers encounter new forms of life. It’s hard to believe that ancient mariners once believed that sea monsters lurking beneath the surface could sink their frail vessels and send them to watery graves.

  Could we say for sure though, that there were no hidden dangers, no slithery creatures waiting for just the right moment to surface and destroy?

  My entire body tensed.

  How could I be sure that some day the monster inside me wouldn’t burst forth and destroy not only me, but those who were nearest and dearest to me?

  Chapter 3

  “We’re here,” I said softly, acknowledging Stacie’s instruction to fasten our seatbelts in preparation for landing. Leaning across PJ, I looked through the window, anxious to catch an early glimpse of our destination. From this altitude, I viewed wooded mountains, olive groves, vineyards, and picturesque villages. The plane banked into its landing pattern. I awakened PJ with a light kiss, receiving an inviting moan as her lips responded to mine. “No dear, not now. We’re getting ready to land.”

  PJ opened one eye. “Damn.” Her lower lip jutted outward. “You were giving me ideas.”

  “Later, I promise.”

  Stacie took Pup to his flight cage and secured him for landing.

  PJ sat up, peering through the window with eyes not quite focused. “Is that the Island of Lesbos?”

  “Yes, but I believe that the correct pronunciation is Lesvos. It’s the third largest of the Greek Isles.”

  “Then all those white buildings with colorful roofs - that must be Mytiline?”

  “Must be.” I watched her eyes take on a gleam.

  “Lesvos, the birthplace of Sappho, the poet,” she said, with a hushed reverence in her voice. Then, she turned to me and hunched her shoulders in girlish delight. “Isn’t that exciting?”

  “Yes it is.” I paused, catching her enthusiasm, but feeling a little guilty.

  Was this the right time to tell her? I wondered. I’d better do it and get it over with.

  “PJ, I’ve been here before.”

  “Oh. I knew you’d been to Greece, but I didn’t realize that you’d come here.” She was apprehensive now, as if bracing for bad news.

  “Yes. Terry and I sailed to
several Greek islands on a holiday. I didn’t enjoy the trip much. We were already coming apart, though I didn’t realize it then.”

  PJ’s eyes flashed. “That was all in the past. This is now.” She touched my cheek. “It’s exciting for me to be here with you, and I’m going to make sure you enjoy it this time.”

  “How could I not enjoy it with you beside me?”

  I was relieved to discover her old enthusiasm was returning. Perhaps this was what we both needed - to get back to work and give our minds something to think about other than the events in Wales.

  *

  Sandy was waiting for us when we walked into the terminal. He had matured since we had last seen him. He had gained some weight, though most of it was muscle, and sported a blond mustache on his suntanned face. Dark glasses, now perched atop his head in a bed of wind-blown fair hair, had created white circles around his eyes.

  He waved and waited for us to clear customs, then flashed that familiar grin when we joined him at the side door of the building. “Hey, Doc, PJ, it’s great having you both here.” We exchanged hearty hugs and kisses.

  “Good to be here with you,” PJ and I said at the same time. We looked at each other and laughed.

  Sandy joined in. “Geez Louise, you two have been together so much that you’re even talking in couple-speak.”

  “Yeah,” PJ said, “and we’re both beginning to look like Pup here.”

  “You look great, both of you. I mean all three of you.” He bent to greet Pup and seemed delighted when Pup apparently remembered him. “How did you get him into the country so easily? I thought there’d be all sorts of quarantine to go through.”

  “It’s convenient having one of the wealthiest men on the planet for a father,” PJ said, “and one who has the ear of politicians worldwide.”

  “Must be. How is Frederick, anyway?”

  “Couldn’t be better. He and I are doing fine, too. We’ve mended a lot offences and admitted that we were both to blame for all the lost years.”