Read Diamond Bay for Free Online Page A

the driveway.
    Honey got out and reached into the back seat for two grocery sacks,
which she clutched to her as she started across the yard. "Thanks for
waiting up," she said clearly. "Aunt Audrey wants you to look at
these quilting squares for your shops."
    "Come on in," Rachel invited, holding open the screen
door. Joe growled again as Honey walked up the steps, but remained beneath the
oleander.
    Honey sat the two grocery sacks on the floor and watched as Rachel
carefully locked the front door again. "What's going on?" she
demanded, planting her strong, freckled fists on her hips. "Why am I
disguising my bag as quilting squares?"
    "In here," Rachel said, leading the way to her bedroom.
He still wasn't moving, except for the regular motion of his chest as he
breathed. "He's been shot," she said, going down on her knees beside
him.
    The healthy color washed out of Honey's face, leaving her freckles
as bright spots on her nose and cheekbones. "My God, what's going on here?
Who is he? Have you called the sheriff? Who shot him?"
    "I don't know, to answer three of those questions,"
Rachel said tensely, not looking at Honey. She kept her eyes trained on the
man's face, willing him to open his eyes, wishing he could give her the answers
to the questions Honey had asked. "And I'm not going to call the
sheriff."
    "What do you mean, you're not going to call?" Honey
fairly shouted, shaken out of her usual calm capability by the sight of a naked
man on Rachel's bedroom floor. "Did you shoot him?"
    "Of course not! He washed up on the beach!"
    "All the more reason to call the sheriff!"
    "I can't !Rachel lifted her head, her eyes
fierce and strangely calm. "I can't risk his life that way."
    "Have you lost your sense of reason? He needs a doctor, and
the sheriff needs to investigate why he was shot! He could be an escaped felon,
or a drug runner. Anything!"
    "I know that." Rachel drew a deep breath. "But the
shape he's in, I don't think I'm taking that much of a risk. He's helpless. And
if things aren't that…cut and dried…he wouldn't stand a chance in a hospital
where someone could get to him."
    Honey put her hand to her head. "I don't understand what
you're talking about," she said wearily. "What do you mean, 'cut and
dried'? And why do you think someone would try to get to him? To finish the job
they started?"
    "Yes."
    "Then it's a job for the sheriff!"
    "Listen," Rachel said insistently. "When I was a
reporter, I saw some things that were…strange. I was on the scene one night
when a body was found. The man had been shot in the back of the head. The sheriff of that county did his
report, the body was taken in for identification, but when the one-paragraph
report appeared in the newspaper two days later it said that he had died of natural
causes! In a way, I suppose it is natural to
die of a bullet in the brain, but it made me curious, and I poked around a
little, looking for the file. The file had disappeared. The coroner's office
had no record of a man who had been shot in the head. Finally the word filtered down to me to
stop snooping, that certain people in government had taken care of the matter
and wanted it dropped."
    "This doesn't make any sense," Honey muttered.
    "The man was an agent!"
    "What sort of agent? DEA? FBI? What?"
    "You're on the right track, but go deeper."
    "A spy? You're saying he was a spy?"
    "He was an agent. I don't know for which side, but the entire
thing was hushed up and doctored out of existence. After that I started
noticing other things that weren't quite what they seemed. I've seen too much
to simply assume that this man will be safe if I turn him over to the
authorities!"
    "You think he's an agent?" Honey stared down at
him, her brown eyes wide.
    Rachel willed herself to answer calmly. "I think there's a
chance of it, and I think we'd be risking his life to turn him over to the
sheriff. It would be a matter of public record then, and anyone hunting for him
would be able to find him."
    "He could