On Fire(50)

His eyes narrowed, again suspiciously. The look of fatigue instantly vanished.

"Riley?"

She'd never been a good liar.

"Look, I'm not going to get anything done around here. I thought--well, it doesn't matter what I thought.

You don't mind if I head out, do you? "

"Of course not."

His tone was clipped, wary. She didn't know what had tipped him off that  she was in fact holding back on him--probably recent history. But how  could she explain that her grandfather had been hiding out in an  abandoned Maine sardine cannery with his pictures of a sabotaged  Encounter engine?

"What about your FBI agent? John Straker. Where's he?"

"He doesn't exactly keep me informed of his movements." She tried to seem casual. She swooped up her leather tote.

"I'll stop by Sig's. If she's seen Matt, I'll let Abigail know.

Okay?"

Henry remained cool.

"Be sure you do. She's worried about her brother, as you can imagine.

None of us wants him to be the next victim."

"Henry " He held up a hand.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I imagine the police have interviewed your sister as well. She would cooperate, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," Riley echoed, annoyed.

After Henry left, she finished packing up for the day. Tension and  fatigue had eroded her ability to concentrate. Usually the opposite  occurred, and the more stressed out she was, the more she buried herself  in her work. It was, she thought, her own form of self-imposed exile.  Straker had gone to an island after his ordeal. She had dived into the  world of marine recovery and rehabilitation. There was nothing more  exhilarating than returning a healthy dolphin, a healthy whale, to the  wild.

Instead of going directly to Beacon Hill, she slipped out to the small,  rusting, outdated research ship moored at the back of the center. It  wasn't the Encounter, and it wasn't even a shadow of the En counter II.

Her father was down below, trying to work in cramped temporary quarters.

Riley managed a smile.

"This old tug doesn't quite compare to the Encounter II, does it?"

He leaned back in his ancient chair, visibly shook off his total immersion in his work and focused on her.                       
       
           



       

"It's going to be a fabulous ship."

"Bennett's dream come true," she added.

Her father nodded sadly. "He always had tremendous vision. Emile, too. They were remarkable men."

"Emile still is. He's not dead."

"I didn't mean it that way."

He raked a hand through his scruffy hair. His research into the  endangered right whale--a large, slow, acrobatic, oil-rich species long  favored by whalers--consumed him. The northern right whale, Eubalaena  glacial is was near extinction, although the southern right whale was  showing signs of recovery. Their slow breeding hindered their recovery  and thus was a focus of much of Richard St. Joe's research and  restoration efforts.

"You're okay?" he asked.

She nodded, realizing with a pang of regret that she couldn't tell him  about Emile and the Encounter sabotage, either. She'd simply wanted to  see him.

"Sig's back in town."

"Mara told me. We're in constant touch since the fire at Emile's. I  heard you came to work today--I was going to stop in later. I think it's  a good idea to try to maintain your routines as much as possible until  this all gets sorted out."

"In theory, anyway. I'm heading out right now. I thought I'd go up and see what Sig's up to."

"I don't like her staying in that house alone."

"I wondered about that, too. Maybe I'll stay with her or make her camp out at my apartment."

He nodded approvingly.

"What about John Straker?"

Riley deliberately misinterpreted his words.

"What, do you think I need to keep an eye on him?"

Her father smiled.

"No, but I suspect he's keeping an eye on you. That thought helps me sleep nights." He gave himself a shake, sighed.

"I can't believe I said that. Amazing. Trusting John Straker with one of my daughters. But he's here in Boston, isn't he? "

"He most certainly is."

"If you need me" -- "I know, Dad." She gave him a quick hug.

"You and Mom are both rocks.

Thanks. "

The sun was bright, the air perfect for an afternoon of playing  hooky--if only she could, Riley thought. She'd love to walk through  Fanueil Hall Marketplace, sit on a bench and look out at the harbor, or  just go to the Department of Motor Vehicles and replace her driver's  license after it burned up in the fire at Emile's.

Instead she spotted Straker at the marine mammal fountain. His thick  body, the ease with which he stood at a Boston fountain or on a rickety  Maine dock, were unmistakable. He turned to her, his gray eyes sweeping  over her. "No whales to drag back to sea?"

"Thankfully, no. Did you see Sig? How is she?"

"Hanging by threads."

"She can't stay alone. I'm going to insist we stay together."

He nodded and gestured behind her.

"Company."

Caroline Granger joined them at the fountain. She looked composed,  perfectly groomed and coordinated in her stylish pantsuit and gold  jewelry.

"Riley, you're just the person I'm looking for. " She smiled at Straker, narrowed her ladylike gaze on him.

"You must be John Straker, the FBI agent."

He smiled back, a gleam of wry humor in his very gray eyes. This was a  man, Riley realized, who didn't take himself too seriously.

"And you must be Caroline Granger."

"The widow," she added with a light note of self- deprecation.

"I heard all sorts of stories about you this summer in Maine. You were a  topic of much speculation. Were you a hero or a wounded lion raging on  his own private island? No one quite knew whether to lock up their  daughters. "

Riley tried not to squirm. Straker laughed. "Nothing like a little drama to perk up a summer afternoon."

"Well, you've become quite the legend. Don't deny it. I came to invite  Riley here to lunch. Won't you join us. Special Agent Straker?"

If Caroline Granger could charm Straker, she could charm anyone.

Riley, who had no such ability, watched in fascination. "I was just on  my way to see Sig-" "I won't keep you long. We can have lunch right here  at the hotel."

One of Boston's finer hotels was a short walk from the plaza.

"To be honest, Riley, I need to talk to you."

"Then lunch it is. Thank you."

Whether because he was charmed or simply determined to keep watch on  her, Straker joined them. Caroline had a table waiting at the waterfront  luxury ho's tel, its menu nothing like the one at the shack of a  restaurant where his father and fellow lobster men ate.                       
       
           



       

"You must try the clam chowder," Caroline told him when they were seated.

"It won't compare to sitting down to a bowl of steaming haddock chowder  in a good Maine fog, but it's really a wonderful recipe."

Straker agreed to try it. Riley could see he was taken with Caroline.

Who wouldn't be? Caroline asked about Sig, shared Riley's concern about  her sister staying on Beacon Hill alone. As their table filled up with  warm bread, salads, chowders and drinks, she said, "I'm going to tell  you both something. A secret."

Riley glanced at Straker, but his expression was unreadable.

Caroline continued, "I don't eat, sleep and breathe oceanography."

"Horrors," Riley said with a laugh.

But Caroline was serious. "I took an interest in the center because it  meant so much to Ben. It was like having a third partner in our  marriage. I knew that going in, of course. I accepted it. I loved his  passion for oceanographic research, his love of the ocean. That kind of  intense commitment, I find, is rare." She turned to Straker.

"Did you ever meet my husband?" "A few times during the summer when I  was growing up in Maine. He'd take his yacht up to see Emile when he  wasn't off on some grand research expedition."

Her eyes moistened, but no tears spilled out. "Oh, he loved Emile. He truly did. This past year has been devastating.

Losing Ben, losing Emile. I thought I'd never recover. "

Riley picked up her tall glass of cold sparkling cider. She hadn't  followed Caroline's lead and had wine; neither had Straker, who stuck to  water. In contrast to the sudden somber tone of the lunch, the  restaurant's atmosphere was cheerful and elegant.

"It seemed like having everyone to Maine last week helped--it felt like a kind of transition to me," Riley said.

"I mean, before Sam..."

Caroline lifted her slender shoulders, let them drop.

"I loved being around all of you, all that dedication and intelligence,  all your wonderful energy and enthusiasm. You've helped me stay  connected to Ben. I wanted that. I needed it."