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Island Recess, Chapter 12.
With a last blaze of color, the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the dusky
blue of evening in its wake. Wrapped in an old wool blanket, Helena shivered
with something more than the night’s chill as she watched Neil’s hands
tirelessly work the tiller. Although he was busy navigating the darkening
waters, Neil’s eyes were continually on her, a tired smile playing about his
lips. Whatever had earlier seemed to alter between them, had switched with ease
back to the way it had always been. The space they shared was comfortably quiet,
their thoughts running parallel, each respecting the others’ need for a moment
of privacy. Shifting his weight, Neil leaned forward and extended a hand to her,
stroking her knee, pushing back her hair, and rubbing the tight muscles that
cramped her shoulders. To Helena, it seemed impossible that they could thread
their way though the dark waters with little more than a single floodlight
illuminating only the water just beyond reach of the Odyssey’s prow. While she
was aware of the beeping of the radar, and saw Neil consulting the satellite
navigation system, she was overwhelmed by what appeared to be a blind journey
through darkness and felt it a painful metaphor for their current predicament.
Briefly closing her eyes, Helena was suddenly away of a crushing fatigue. She
leaned back against the seat cushion and willed the muscles in her body to
relax. Neil glanced at her face, concern in his eyes.
“You must be exhausted. You should try to catch a little sleep. We’re not going
to make landfall before the wee hours of the morning and we need to get to the
police station as soon as the sun’s up. ”
Neil pulled a cushion against his thigh and patted it in invitation.
“Come on, rest your head here. I suppose I can get by for a little while without
a co-pilot.” He grinned broadly and reached a hand out to Helena, guiding her
down until she was curled up on her side, head nestled into the cushion. His
fingers twined in her hair, massaging her scalp and caressing the nape of her
neck until the tension in her body thawed and she was able to harness her
runaway thoughts. Her consciousness already slipping, her words came out
dream-like.
“I wish that P.I. had already finished his detective work. Then at least some of
my mysteries would be cleared up.”
Against her head, Helena felt Neil’s body stiffen and his response seemed to be
stated with undue caution.
“What detective work would you talking about, Helena?”
For a moment, Helena did not respond, her sleepy mind struggling to understand
why Neil had seemed uncomfortable with her statement. Suddenly, clarity dawned.
Neil suspects that he’s the one I’m investigating. Able to reassure him with at
least part of the truth, Helena turned on her back and looked up at Neil,
straining to make out the expression on his face through the darkness. The stars
winking overhead turned his eyes to indigo. Tilting back her head, she touched
his chin with a fingertip.
“I guess, with everything else going on, that I forgot to tell you. A few days
ago, I hired a private investigator to find out what he could about the ‘real’
Karl. I thought that if I had some tangible proof of wrongdoing, that it would
serve as insurance against his harming me, or someone I love. You see it all the
time in the movies: someone has a document or set of pictures that they make
copies of, and then lets the bad guy know that if anything happens, the evidence
goes straight to the authorities. Kind of like blackmailing the baddies, you
know? Problem is, I don’t think he’s had time to put much together and so I
still don’t have any tangible proof to show the police. In other words, it’s
still my word against Karl’s word, and, of course, against Karl’s money and
persuasive abilities.”
Neil sighed audibly, inadvertently confirming Helena’s suspicion that he had in
fact momentarily thought himself the subject of an investigation. If only he
knew, she thought. Drawing her legs more tightly to her chest, Helena willed
sleep to come, but dancing thoughts kept her uncomfortably alert. This feels so
good, and yet it could all be just another horrible mistake.
Helena’s stomach twisted as she recalled the immediate thrill she had felt on
meeting Karl. Such a contrast to what he became; or to what, in reality, he had
always been. At first, he had seemed so different. As they had stood chatting,
in an intimate wine bar in the midst of an after-hours work crowd, he had asked
about her job and appeared instantly to be intrigued. Rather than reveling in
the same tired schoolteacher clichés, or even worse, being too bored to even
feign an interest in her career, he had entered into a well-informed dialogue
about education that had her quickly and excitedly sharing her passion for
teaching. Karl’s absorption in her life, and more particularly her career, had
not waned with subsequent meetings, and when he shared with her his lifelong
dream of creating a charity to fund the education of underprivileged inner-city
children, Helena’s heart was completely captured. Rather than a relationship in
which the balance of power was to be perpetually lopsided, what Karl had
proposed to her was an equal alliance: a team that together would apply profits
from his numerous business enterprises to better the lives of children whose
disadvantages Helena had witnessed first hand. It had appeared that their
relationship, while moving forward at a breathtaking speed, wound them more and
more tightly together, and when Karl had proposed marriage, Helena had already
decided he would forever be her soul-mate. When the change had begun, it was a
subtle unraveling of Helena’s expectations that began an almost immediate
downward spiral. To be confronted by a reality that stood in such obscene
contrast to the image of a gentle philanthropist was almost more than Helena
could bear. At the very moment in her life when it had seemed she had finally
found her ‘happily ever after,’ everything she had known and understood about
love was flipped on end and become a nightmarish journey with Helena as its
hogtied traveler.
A hand gently pressed its fingertips to Helena’s forehead and she opened her
eyes, momentarily alarmed. She relaxed as she looked up into Neil’s eyes. Caught
in the light of a luminescent moon, they were suddenly startling in their
clarity. Smiling down at her, he was silent, eyes speaking a tenderness for
which words were not needed. Suddenly, Helena was struck by how peaceful she
felt in Neil’s company. In contrast to Karl’s constant, almost obsessive need to
share his opinions and ideas, even to the detriment of dialogue, Neil’s
communication was more thoughtful. His silence itself seemed to take on a life
of its own, reassuring and calming the doubts that raged through Helena’s
unquiet mind. For the first time in days, it seemed, she breathed easily, almost
against her will falling under the spell of Neil’s easy company.
Rising to a half-seated position, Helena looked across the dark expanse of water
and was surprised to see the lights of St. John twinkling in the distance. Had
her journey into the past really taken her such a distance? As they motored
toward the bay, she could make out a profusion of masts jutting like sentinels
from the calm waters. Slowing the engine to a mere purr, Neil maneuvered the
craft toward the huddle of sailboats until he was some hundred feet away and
then switched it off, climbed up out of the cockpit and moved with agility
toward the prow of the boat. Within minutes, Helena heard the splash of the
anchor as it broke the surface of the water, and the grinding tumble of the
chain as it followed, unraveling until it hit and caught on the sandy bottom.
Its journey complete for the time being, the Odyssey bobbed complacently on the
gentle swell. Feet padding along the deck, Neil reappeared, ducking his head as
he dropped back into the cockpit.
“Hungry? Tired? Both?” he gently inquired, head inclined as he took in Helena’s
crumpled appearance and slumping postured.
“Both? Neither? I’m too hungry to be tired, and too tired to be hungry, “she
smiled, “But you must be both. Let me fix us a quick snack and then we can catch
a little sleep before we head into shore.”
Neil agreed, relief transparent in his eyes, and followed Helena as she climbed
below and made her way to the galley. Moving quickly through the tiny cupboards,
she located some tuna, a loaf of bread that had seen better days, and the tail
end of a bag of potato chips. “It’s a good thing we can’t afford to be picky,”
she said with a rueful glance at the heavily squashed loaf. While Neil sank back
on the settee, fatigue casting grey shadows over his face, Helena assembled tuna
fish sandwiches and added potato chips to each plate. Handing this to Neil, she
laughed, “Hope you’re hungry enough to appreciate my ‘cooking’.”
Their last meal seemed suddenly very far off, and within minutes they had
consumed the simple meal. Snuggling up next to Neil, Helena laid her head
against his chest, and breathed deep of his maleness. With his arms holding her
close, she listened to him breathe, and was consumed with a deep and sudden
gratitude for the simplicity of the moment. For the moment, nothing seemed to
matter but the kindness that Neil had shown her. After all, it was the unknown
of which was she afraid, and perhaps she had no need to fear, since every moment
they had spent together had shown Neil to be a good and honest man. Should she
judge him by his words and actions, or by suspicions that might be entirely
unfounded?
Twisting around, she tipped back her head until her cheek for a moment, rested
against Neil’s. Then, she sought out the sensual curve of his mouth, taking his
lower lip in her own, and sucking it gently. Despite the fatigue he had shown
mere minutes ago, his response was immediate, his breath quickening as he
pressed a hand to the back of her head and drew her closer. He probed her mouth
with his tongue, darting it against hers, first gently, and then with greater
urgency. Soft kisses turned to passionate love-bites as their hands roamed each
other’s bodies. Slipping his hand under the hem of Helena’s shirt, he sought her
naked breast and cupped it in his hand, caressing her nipple until it was rock
hard between his probing fingertips. She whimpered, acutely aware of the growing
dampness between her thighs. As if on cue, his free hand slipped between her
legs, lightly stroking her clit through the fabric of her shorts. Helena reached
for the zipper of his shorts, sliding her hand through the opening and past his
briefs to the cock that strained to be free of confinement. Gently, teasingly,
she began to pump her hand around his shaft, fingers moving so lightly they
barely shifted the skin. He moaned, thrusting against her hand, and then grabbed
her by the wrist and gently pushed her hand aside.
“Come to bed,” he whispered.
Helena, arose quickly, turning toward Neil as he smiled, shaking his head
teasingly and pointed the way to the stateroom.
“You first.”
Moving toward the bedroom, Helena commenced a rapid impromptu striptease,
pulling t-shirt overhead and stepping from her shorts. Remembering the sensuous
feel of his hand over her cotton panties, she kept these on. Climbing up into
the v-berth, she stretched out luxuriously on her belly and waited for Neil to
appear. Moments later, he followed her onto the bed, a bottle of oil in one hand
and a beach towel in the other.
Stretching the towel over the bed, he motioned for Helena to move on top of it,
and began to caress her cotton-clad buttocks with leisurely hands. Gently
parting her legs, he slid two fingers over the crotch of her panties, pausing
where they were the dampest to lightly tap his fingers. Her pussy seemingly on
fire, Helena bucked back against his hand, only to find that he’d withdrawn it.
Moments later, his fingers were again on her panties, this time, slowly pushing
them to one side as he sought out the source of her wetness. Sliding a finger
through her slippery sex, he began to make lazy circles around her clit. Helena,
gasping, pushed her body backward, welcoming his finger as it slid inside and
continued its leisurely explorations. Withdrawing his finger with maddening
slowness, Neil slipped his fingers in the waistband of Helena’s panties and
began to draw them over her hips and down her legs, stopping at her ankles. His
fingers were busy for a moment, and when Helena made a move to kick her panties
from her, she realized he had secured her ankles, and her heart began to pound
with a maddening desire. Starting at her feet, his oiled hands began a slow,
sensuous massage, rubbing toes, caressing ankles and firmly stroking over the
arches with a practiced thumb. His hands slid easily up to her calves, squeezing
and kneading the muscles before sliding his hands just inside her thighs. Ankles
captive, Helena could not open her legs to him as her body so urgently desired,
and the light touch at the rear of her sex was almost more than she could bear.
A ragged cry burst from her throat as she felt a stream of oil directed at the
top of her buttocks began a sensuous drip over her anus, and through her slit.
For the moment, no caressing hand followed the oil’s path, and Helena was ready
to scream with frustration. She tried to roll over, to reach for him with her
hands, but the pressure of his body had her trapped on her belly and the kicking
of her feet was futile. When Neil’s fingers reappeared at her shoulders, she was
gritting her teeth despite the soothing touch that kneaded her knotted muscles.
He continued his agonizing massage, studiously avoiding contact with her sex as
he worked his way along her arms and down her back. For nearly fifteen minutes,
he rubbed deeply along her spine, around her shoulder blades, and into the small
of her back. Despite her raging sexual tension, Helena felt relief flooding her
body as muscular pain was miraculously eased only to be replaced by a
desperately unfulfilled longing for a more intimate touch. Then, just as it
seemed to be more than she could bear, Neil rolled her over onto her back and
lowered his body against hers until he grazed her skin with the downy hair that
tapered to a thin line from chest to belly. Moaning, she bucked against him,
wrapping her arms around his back and straining to draw the tip of his shaft
between her still-pinned legs. Bending to kiss and nibble at Helena’s ears and
neck, Neil made his torturous way south, leaning in to capture and suck each of
her erect nipples. As he moved down to hover over her sex, Neil reached back and
untwisted the panties that bound Helena’s ankles. Free of restraint, Helena
spread her legs wide, lifting her hips as Neil’s tongue made contact with her
aching clit. With long, lavish licks, he brought her quickly to the edge of
orgasm, then backed off, teasingly regarding her as he kissed around her mound
and then slipped a finger easily inside her. As she squeezed tight around his
thrusting finger, Neil leaned in and sucked her bud hard, drawing orgasm from
her as she exploded in climax. Pulling his mouth quickly from her, Neil
positioned his body over hers, replacing the probing of his finger with the
long, thick slide of his erection. Leaning his torso low against hers, he ground
his pelvis against her mons, pumping against the tenderness of her aroused clit
with the base of his cock. With his body rocking rhythmically against hers, the
response of Helena’s body was immediate, a low throbbing that vaulted quickly to
a teetering on the brink. Seizing the moment, Neil began to thrust more deeply,
hips locked against her to maintain maximum stimulation. With a guttural cry,
Helena climaxed a second time, tightening around his thrusting penis as Neil
choked out her name and sank against her, drained by his orgasm. For a few
minutes, they lay together, still joined, wrapped loosely in each other’s arms.
Then, with a sigh, Neil lifted himself from her, snuggled against her side, and
with a rain of sleepy kisses and ‘I love you’s’, fell quickly and soundly
asleep. For what seemed an eternity Helena lay still, listening to the duet of
Neil’s breath and the sound of the waves, and mentally rehearsing what she would
say to the police. Left with nothing but the truth, Helena hoped it would be
sufficient to protect both her and her sleeping lover. Eyes closing, she turned
to rest her head on Neil’s chest. His arms encircled her, protective even in his
sleep. Safe for the moment, Helena surrendered herself to the luxury of being
loved, and slipped into slumber.
The morning light in her eyes was a cruel assault as it crept from dull to
brilliant in a matter of minutes. With a start, she pushed herself up on an
elbow and surveyed her wristwatch. Eight o’clock. Bending low over Neil, she
kissed him gently, first on the cheek and the lips, as she whispered gently to
him to wake up. Rubbing his eyes in fatigued confusion, he quickly oriented
himself, and in moments, was crawling from the bed and sorting through various
wrinkled garments as he dressed. While finger-combing and tying back her tangled
curls, Helena rifled through her backpack, locating and donning clean shorts and
a t-shirt. Within minutes they were in the cockpit, working together to untie a
small kayak that had been bungeed to Odyssey’s port-side. Lowering the kayak
into the water, first Neil, and then Helena used the small ladder to drop down
onto the craft’s surface. With only one paddle between them, Neil took charge of
taking them into shore. Leaning back against the make-shift seat, Helena admired
the deft thrust of the paddle, and Neil’s sure stroking through the choppy
water. By the time they had made it in to shore, Helena’s t-shirt was spattered
with salt water splashed up by the paddle, and as she rose to standing, she
ruefully examined the crotch area of her shorts, with was soaked with the water
that had sloshed up into the kayak. Turning, she noted that Neil’s shorts were
similarly dampened.
“Hope the police won’t judge us on appearance alone,” she giggled nervously.
Hand in hand, the pair made their way slowly the short distance to the police
station, fingers tightly intertwined in silent support. As they approached the
building, Neil turned and looked Helena square in the face. His eyes were
intense. “Just tell the truth Helena, and everything should be okay.” Helena
blanched momentarily. The truth? What part of the truth?
The tiny police station seemed to be operating on island time this morning, and
the officer who approached Neil and Helena with an offer to assist did so with a
languidness that stood in sharp contrast to the urgency of their mission.
Looking to Helena for confirmation that it was okay for him to take temporary
lead, Neil quickly outlined the situation, pointing out that a falsely reported
kidnapping had been the first serious indication of an obsessive ex-partner on
their tail. The police officer’s eyebrows lifted slowly and he reached below the
counter to consult a rustling sheaf of papers.
Looking up, he inquired in a casual voice, “Your names?”
Helena and Neil gave their names in turn, and watched with concern as the
officer began to read from the paper that was hidden from their view. Looking
up, he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Who is this man you say is following you?”
Tentatively, Helena spoke up.
“His name is Karl Pennington and I used to be engaged to him. We broke up after
I found evidence, not only that he had been repeatedly unfaithful, but that he
had been involved in various types of criminal activity. Since our break-up,
he’s been doing everything in his power to try to contact me, including
following me from Seattle here to the Virgin Islands.”
The police officer tilted his head and tapped his fingers slowly on the counter
as he regarded Helena. When he spoke, his tone was dismissive.
“Do you have any proof of these wrongdoings? Or proof that he intends to harm
you? Incriminating photos or threatening letters? He could, after all, simply be
here for a holiday. Such coincidences do take place and we cannot issue warrants
on the basis of a young lady’s word alone.”
Helena turned momentarily to Neil, her eyes seeking his protection while knowing
that here, he could offer none. She continued, her voice gathering strength as
she felt the weight of Karl’s influence burdening her with her current
predicament.
“No, I don’t have proof, but you do have a false allegation of kidnapping
against my friend here which was made either by Karl, or by one of his
associates.” Helena’s eyes flashed. “If that’s his first act, then frankly, I’m
scared to see the encore.”
With a maddeningly bland expression, the police officer gazed at Helena for a
long moment. Then, he spoke.
“Miss, whatever the Coast Guard heard regarding your kidnapping has clearly been
proven untrue, providing that this man in actuality is your ‘friend,’ on which
point I am forced to take your word. No more reports have been issued, and so
there is no more need to worry. Without any evidence that this man is stalking
you, the police department cannot do anything to assist you. My advice to you is
to return home to Seattle and if you are bothered there by this Karl Pennington,
to take action against him at that time.”
Drawing himself to full height, Neil looked down at the officer and spoke with
ill-disguised contempt. “So, Sir, there is nothing you can do to assist this
young lady in protecting herself while she is a resident of this island.”
Shrugging his shoulders and casting up his hands, the police officer was
suddenly curt in his response.
“Not in this case. Now, I bid both of you a good morning. Please enjoy the rest
of your time here in St. John.” With these words he walked briskly back to his
desk where he seated himself and began shuffling busily through the sections of
a newspaper, snapping one open and disappearing behind it.
Neil’s arm tightened around Helena’s shoulders as they walked slowly from the
police station. His face was grim, his mouth a tight line as he spoke.
“That was some brush-off. Do you think they really needed ‘proof’, or do you
think that Karl’s pockets really run that deep?”
Helena shrugged glumly. Her face, as she turned to meet his, was pale and
anxious.
“Under the circumstances, it probably is best if I do as they say, to leave the
island, return home and press charges for stalking if Karl continues. If the
police can’t, or aren’t willing to help us, then both our lives could be in
danger. Then, there’s the problem of my job. Even if the school is closed right
now, I’m still under contract. Then again, if Karl poses a danger to me, that
danger could extend to you, to my neighbors and friend, and even to my
students.”
Burying her face in her hands, Helena’s tears erupted anew. “Maybe I should go,
but…”
“But neither of us want that, do we Helena?” Finishing her sentence for her,
Neil took Helena’s face in his hands. Bending to her, he kissed her mouth
gently.
“I don’t know how long I can be apart from you.” He looked at her with earnest
eyes, brazenly seeking an answer for which he obviously hoped.
“Neil, I wish I could stay, but maybe I should take their advice. I know the
principal would allow me to terminate my contract early if it came to a matter
of safety. After all, there’s only a week left and who knows when they’ll reopen
the school. Oh, I just don’t know what to do.” Her words trailed off in a fresh
burst of sobs.
Neil held her close as he stroked her hair.
“Tell you what. Let’s go find a phone and call your mom to let her know you’re
okay. Then, we’ll go and get some breakfast and puzzle this over. Okay?”
Through her tears, Helena attempted a brave smile. Locking her fingers within
his, she took a deep breath, and repeated the affirmation. Okay.
They located a telephone without delay and Helena quickly connected with her
mother. While the latter was still obviously taken aback by the false kidnapping
charge, she assured Helena that she had been certain Karl was lying. Still, she
was clearly grateful for the confirmation that her daughter was in safe hands.
Helena breathed a sigh of relief. For a few minutes they chatted lightly about
their respective news, Helena being careful to edit her blossoming relationship
to a G-rating for the benefit of her rather conservative parent. Just as they
were saying their good-byes, Helena was startled to hear her mother say that she
had a message from ‘a Mr. Skye.’ Momentarily racking her brains, Helena recalled
with a start of excitement: Skye Investigations. Repeating the number for Neil
to record on a scrap of paper, Helena hung up the phone and re-dialed.
“Skye Investigations,” was the brisk male response over the crackling of a
newly-restored telephone service.
“Mr. Skye?” Helena asked tentatively. “This is Helena Travis returning your
call.”
The voice on the other end of the line shifted abruptly in tone. It appeared as
if the receiver had been pressed close to the speaker’s mouth, and his voice was
low and cautious.
“Miss, I did what you asked. A package should arrive today, to the address you
gave me. But, there’s something you need to know. I had a visitor last night who
wasn’t too happy about the questions I’ve been asking. He tore up my office some
and roughed me up a bit. Before he left, he said that if I didn’t stop my
investigation, he’s be back to stop me for good. He didn’t know I was already
done and that the goods were already headed your way. Thanks to some quick
improvisation on my part, he thinks my client is a lawyer I’ve never met and
with whom I communicate anonymously. If he suspects you’re behind my
investigation, I’m afraid your life could be in danger. Take what’s inside the
envelope to the authorities and put as much distance between yourself and this
man as you can. And Miss? Please don’t ever contact me again.”
There was an audible click as the speaker hung up the phone. Replacing the
receiver, Helena turned to face Neil, shock turning her face pallid. “I’ve got
my proof now,” she whispered. Chapter 13
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