Deceived (10 page)

“Lisa, I don't expect you to hang around with me. This cruise is your birthday present and I want you to enjoy it.”

“I am enjoying it. I just want to spend more of it with you.” Lisa plopped down on the bed and reached for the chocolate mint the steward had left on her pillow.

Ordinarily Jennie would have been pleased to have Lisa's company, but not now. In another hour and a half she had to leave and meet Roberts. The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was talk. As much as she wanted to tell Lisa everything, she couldn't. “What about Matt?” Jennie asked, hoping to shift Lisa's focus.

“Matt's busy—said he had to find Dominic. To be honest, I'm glad. I've been spending too much time with him.”

“Are you saying he's not the man of your dreams?”

Lisa crinkled up her nose. “I don't know—it's too soon to tell. There's something about him that doesn't seem right.”

“Like what?” Jennie popped her own bedtime mint into her mouth.

“Do you know that he hasn't even kissed me? We've gone for romantic walks in the moonlight and talked about everything. We've had a lot of fun together, but he's…I don't know. It's like his mind is a million miles away most of the time.” Lisa bit off a corner of her candy and sighed. “Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm expecting too much, but sometimes I get the feeling he's more of a babysitter than a date.” Changing the subject, she asked, “You want to go sit in the Jacuzzi for a while?”

“Sounds good, but I can't.” She pointed to the bandage on her thigh. “The doctor said I shouldn't soak it. But I'll dangle my feet while you go in.”

While Lisa soaked and Jennie dangled, they talked about guys and how difficult they could be at times. “You know what I've decided?” Lisa tipped her head back and looked at the stars. “I don't need a guy in my life.”

“That's a pretty radical statement. Does this have anything to do with you and Brad breaking up?”

She turned and rested her arms against the rim so she could face Jennie. “I guess I am bummed about that. I didn't know how much I liked him until I lost him.”

Jennie let her fingers trail in the swirling water. “Maybe when we get back you should tell him how you feel. I think he really liked you.”

“He did.”

“Then why did he break up with you?”

“He didn't like the way I flirted with other guys.”

“I can understand how he might feel that way.”

“Jennie?”

“What?”

“Do you think guys find me attractive?”

Jennie ruffled Lisa's hair. “You're kidding, right? Lisa, you're gorgeous. Wait a minute…let me guess. Brad dumps you and you think Matt doesn't care about you. You've got a bad case of inferiority. Trust me, you don't have anything to worry about. Matt is probably just concerned about Dominic. I am too.” Jennie frowned.

“Do you think they'll still want to tour Jamaica with us tomorrow?”

Jennie shrugged. “Who knows? But hey, if they don't, who cares? We don't need them to have a good time, right?” Jennie glanced at her watch and scrambled to her feet. “And speaking of time, we'd better get to bed.”

At eleven-thirty Jennie and Lisa returned to their stateroom. While Lisa was in the bathroom, Jennie slipped under the covers, still dressed in her shorts and a cotton T-shirt. And at five minutes to midnight, she sneaked out of the room and headed to the darkest part of the ship.

Roberts was already there. He seemed more agitated than he had been the night before. “Let's go down to the promenade deck. We'll be safer walking around down there.”

Roberts took hold of her arm at the elbow and guided her forward. As they walked, she told him about Hendricks and his persistence in pursuing the case. “I tried to talk him out of it, but when he wouldn't back off, I pretended I was on his side. I asked him to keep me posted. I'll let you know…”

“No.” He stopped under a bank of lifeboats, took her arm, and turned her around to face him. “I don't want you in the middle. This isn't a game, Jennie. We'll take care of him.”

“But…” A shuffling noise overhead stopped her. Crack. A bullet ripped through the darkness and slammed into the deck where she was standing. Jennie dropped to the floor.

Roberts fell on top of her. After a few seconds, he rolled away, jumped to his feet, and scanned the area above them where lifeboats hung in tidy rows.

“Stay down,” he ordered as he ascended a narrow ladder to a plank that provided access to the boats.

Jennie crawled to the wall and huddled against it, willing her lungs to inhale-exhale. She peered into the lights and shadows above her. Someone had shot at them! Aiming for Roberts or her?
Not hard to figure out, McGrady
. She'd been the target in two incidences so far this trip—that is if the spear really had been meant for her. But why? If someone was trying to kill her they were doing a lousy job. If they were trying to frighten her—mission accomplished. Jennie had never been so scared in her life.

Moments later Roberts descended the ladder and dropped down beside her. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Did you see anyone?”

He shook his head and holstered his gun, then, as if he'd been trained as an emergency medical technician, quickly checked her over for injuries. “But I'll keep looking. I want you to go back to your room.”

“No, I want to go with you.”

“You can't be serious.”

“Look, somebody either wants me dead or they're trying to scare me to death. I'm as safe with you as anywhere.”

“What are you talking about? You think that shot was meant for you?”

Jennie told him about her underwater assailant. “The first time whoever it was hit me in the leg. The second hit the ray. I wrote it off as an accident, but now I'm not so sure.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“I didn't think about it.”

Roberts leaned against the wall. Except for a dim light reflecting off his bald head, his face was in shadows. “Is there anything else I should know? Anything at all that's happened to you since you aired that television show?”

“The night the show aired, I thought someone was following Lisa and me after we'd gone to the movie. The car disappeared. I didn't connect it at the time.”

“Go on.”

“Then our house was broken into. Whoever it was trashed my room—broke dad's picture, the box of mementos. Read my diary.” She shuddered. “It was like whoever it was really wanted to hurt me.”

“Or your father?” Roberts' voice was barely audible, but it screamed through Jennie. “I hope I'm wrong about this, but someone may be trying to get to Jason through you.”

“The picture of Dad—the one I showed on television. It was the only thing missing after the break—in that first night on board.” Jennie reminded him about the sauna and how her and Lisa's stateroom had been broken into. “Do you think they could all be related in some way?”

“It's possible. But what worries me more is that the perp is getting more aggressive.”

“You think he'll come after us again?”

“Not if I can help it.” Roberts moved away from the wall. “You'd better be getting back to your room.”

This time Jennie didn't argue. As she turned to go, he issued another warning not to go anywhere alone.

She almost reminded him that she hadn't been alone tonight, but thought better of it. Roberts had enough to worry about.

“I'll be with Gram, J.B., and Lisa all day tomorrow.” She'd almost added Dominic and Matt, then realized that probably wouldn't happen. Dominic had talked about showing them the island, but after yesterday, she wasn't certain he'd ever talk to her again.

Roberts nodded. “You'll be in good hands. Looks like I'll be spending the day going over the passenger list—get the home office to check out this Hendricks character and…” He stopped as though he'd said too much, then added, “Maybe we'll have an answer as to who might be behind all this when you get back to the ship tomorrow afternoon.”

Jennie took a couple of steps and turned back. “Mr. Roberts?”

“Hmmm?”

“Isn't there any way you could arrange for me to see my dad? I mean, my life is already in danger…”

“It wouldn't be wise, Jennie.”

“Please?”

“I don't…” He hesitated. “I'll see what I can do.”

Yes, yes, yes
, Jennie cheered to herself as she walked away. Hope.
Dad's alive and you might get to see him.
Roberts didn't accompany her to her room, but Jennie had no doubt that he'd made certain she'd gotten there safely.

She let herself in, put on her pajamas, and crawled into bed. Her body was exhausted, but her brain refused to give in, dwelling instead on what Roberts had said about checking out John Hendricks and some of the other passengers.

Roberts suspected him. She had no clue as to what Hendricks' motive might be, but the possibility intrigued her. Hendricks had known about the show days before it aired. He'd been in Portland and followed her to the Caribbean. Until last night she hadn't seen him on the ship. Why hadn't he contacted her before?

What would he have to gain?
She asked herself the question again and again. Was he lying about being an investigative reporter? He'd said he could spot a cop a mile away. Could he be one of Dad's enemies, using the investigative reporter angle as a cover?

It made sense. In a twisted sort of way.

The only other possibility she could come up with was that the shooter hadn't been after her. Maybe the diver had been after the ray all along. The sauna? She and Lisa could have been the victims of a burglary.

Besides, it seemed more likely that the gunshot had been meant for Roberts-not for her. In his business he was bound to have made some enemies.
So have you
, she reminded herself.

Jennie groaned and tried to force the questions and suspicions out of her mind. Unfortunately, one fact refused to be put to rest. It lay raw and exposed in her mind like an open wound. Someone with a gun had tried to kill either her or Roberts, and he seemed to think she was still in terrible danger.

Far too early the next morning, the phone dragged Jennie out of a sound sleep. Since Lisa was in the bathroom, Jennie answered it. “Rise and shine, darlings,” Gram crooned. “It's a beautiful day.”

Jennie groaned as she pried one eye open to peek at her watch. “What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty. The ship is about to dock at Jamaica. J.B. and I thought we'd watch, take a few pictures—I understand the harbor at Ocho Rios is breathtaking—then we'll have breakfast.”

Yawning, Jennie agreed to meet them in the dining room at eight-fifteen. Even after a shower, she felt like a snail plodding along in slow motion. Her body definitely needed more than four hours of sleep. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be getting any of that today. Nighttime didn't look too hopeful either. She had to meet Roberts again.

Dominic and Matt were already at the table talking animatedly with Gram and J.B. when she and Lisa arrived. Dominic rose and offered her a sheepish grin as she approached. He kissed the back of her hand and held out her chair. “I must apologize for my rudeness yesterday, señorita. You will forgive me?”

“Of course,” Jennie said, feeling more relieved than she'd expected to. “Besides, it was my fault. I shouldn't have been so nosy.”

“It was not your fault. I am too sensitive. But you are right. Although I must obey my grandfather, there is no reason I cannot paint and sculpt as well.”

“You're an artist?” Gram sounded pleased and prodded Dominic to tell her about his work. Dominic beamed as he talked about some of his projects. It saddened Jennie all the more that he'd be pressured by his grandfather to go into a field in which he had no interest. Of course, if Mom had her way, Jennie would become a bookkeeper or a teacher. But Jennie planned to go into law enforcement—at least she had a grandparent who'd back her up. “I'd love to see some of your work, Dominic,” Gram was saying as Jennie tuned back into the conversation. “You will, señora. That is if you will accept my offer to visit my uncle's hacienda. He has most graciously exhibited my work in the lobby of his resort.”

By the end of breakfast Dominic had planned their entire day. Lisa and Matt seemed to have reconciled their differences, but Jennie wasn't sure how she felt about the whole affair.

The one thing she did feel certain of was that, although she liked Dominic as a friend, she did not want him as a boyfriend. Dominic Estéban Ramirez was far too complex, too unpredictable, and Jennie had no desire to expend the amount of energy it would take to figure him out. But there was no reason she couldn't just enjoy his company, Jamaica, and the rest of the cruise.

With beach bags, lotion, bathing suits, and hiking boots for climbing the waterfall, they left the
Caribbean Dreamer
. Jennie admired the island's lush vegetation as they walked down the pier and through customs. In the parking lot, they climbed into the silver limousine Dominic had borrowed from his uncle. “I talked with Tío Manny earlier,” Dominic explained. “He is sorry he cannot join us this morning, but is very anxious to meet you. He will join us for lunch. In the meantime I am to give you the grand tour.”

Matt and Lisa had taken the backseat, Gram and J.B. the middle, and at Dominic's request Jennie sat up front with him. For the next half hour Dominic took them on a hair-raising tour of Ocho Rios. Jennie's thrill of a frontrow seat diminished greatly when they left the parking lot.

“Here on Jamaica, we drive according to British custom,” Dominic informed them. “In America, as in my home, we drive on the right side of the road. In Jamaica we drive on the left. It is confusing at first.” He leaned on the horn when a pink van that looked like a survivor of two world wars cut in front of him.

Jennie winced, braced her hands on the dash, and planted her feet firmly on the floor. She stayed that way until they broke free of the heavy traffic and headed into the suburbs. At the end of a narrow, winding road on top of a steep hill, Dominic pulled into a parking space. “We have arrived safely at our first destination. See? Nothing to worry about. As the Jamaican guides say, ‘No problem.'”

“Safely? That depends entirely on one's view,” Jennie teased.

“Speaking of view,” Gram announced, “this one is fantastic. Girls, stand over there and let me take a picture of you with the ship in the background.”

The park overlooked Ocho Rios Harbor. From their vantage point, the ship looked like a toy floating in a huge bathtub of turquoise water. Even Jennie had to admit the view was worth the ride up.

For over an hour they wandered through lush tropical gardens and along a path that offered breathtaking views of a crystal-clear brook cascading over waterfalls, none more beautiful, Dominic insisted, than those he had seen in the mountains of Oregon.

After leaving the park, Dominic drove them through Fern Gully. The narrow two-laned highway ribboned through a dense tropical rain forest.

At nearly every bend of the road, men, women, and children had set up roadside stands, hoping for tourists to stop and buy a trinket. “It is how they make their living,” Dominic explained. “There is no welfare system in Jamaica, and the people do whatever they can—crafts, bartering—to survive.”

“Do you think we could stop at one of the stands?” Jennie asked. “I'd like to buy something—maybe one of the dolls like that woman back there was selling.”

Dominic glanced back at Gram and J.B. as if seeking their approval. J.B. leaned forward and said, “The cruise director warned against it. Said we should stick to the shops in town.”

“Oh, please,” Gram, Lisa, and Jennie chorused.

J.B. shrugged. “Looks like we've been outvoted, fellows. With six of us, we shouldn't have any trouble.”

Dominic pulled off at the next craft booth and Jennie, Lisa, and Gram shopped while the guys watched. Gram bought a set of carved wooden birds from one of the men. From a child no more than eight, Jennie bought a crudely made doll with a black face and colorful Jamaican costume. “How much?” Jennie asked.

“Eight dolla',” the girl answered, her black eyes bright with the prospect of a sale. Jennie handed the girl a ten and told her to keep the change. With every braid on her head bobbing, the little girl scampered off to show a woman who Jennie supposed was her mother. Lisa bought a carved tropical fish in blues, yellows, and greens from a young boy.

Their shopping done, Jennie, Gram, and Lisa tried to return to their car, but the natives—a dozen more thanhad been there at first, circled them. In an almost desperate attempt to sell more goods, they dangled other crafts in their faces. At first Jennie felt sorry for them, then grew frightened at their insistence. She felt a tug on her shoulder strap and glanced behind her. A Rastafarian wearing a dirty red and green knit cap glared at her. Jennie tightened the hold on her bag. As the man reached toward her someone grabbed her from behind.