Deceived (12 page)

Dominic stood, then took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Of course. Good-night, señorita. I, too, must get some rest.”

She'd done it again. Triggered something in Dominic that closed him up. She turned and hurried inside, up the staircase and into her room. Maybe when things settled down she'd talk to Gram about him. He seemed troubled by so many things. And she cared about Dominic. She really did.

Jennie crawled into bed, exhausted. Outside of her room, water bubbled in the fountain and cascaded over the rocks in the garden. It should have calmed her, but it didn't. The water served only as a grim reminder that she was stranded in a foreign country, while the ship, which carried her family and a DEA agent named Roberts, was drifting farther and farther away.

The next morning after breakfast Maria and Manuel García hugged them and offered their prayers for a safe journey. His uncle handed Dominic the keys to one of his private planes and ordered a driver to take them to the airport.

Jennie could feel trouble stirring deep in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was the tearful way Maria had said goodbye, or Señor García's concerned expression when he gave Dominic the keys to the airplane. Dominic had assured her he knew how to fly. Was that it? Was she just being paranoid about getting in a small plane with a guy she barely knew? Or was there something else? Her intuition had been sending so many warning signals lately her brain was beginning to short circuit.

“Trust your instincts,” Gram had often told her. Jennie's instincts told her she should be on board the
Caribbean Dreamer
, but it was a little late for that. The next best option available to her at the moment was to fly to Georgetown with Dominic. She'd have felt a lot better about it though if she could read Dominic's mind.

Dominic had been unusually silent during breakfast. Pensive. Maybe he was having second thoughts about flying her to Grand Cayman. Maybe he was just upset about her comments last night.

Now, sitting in the back of one of Señor García's limousines, Jennie glanced over at Dominic and smiled. “Thank you for everything you've done. I really enjoyed meeting Maria and your uncle Manny. I'm almost glad I missed the boat.”

Dominic nodded. “They are nice people.”

“You seem upset about something.”

“Do I, querida?” Dominic paused, then frowned. “Forgive me…I think you do not like for me to call you my beloved.”

“I didn't say that, but you're right. I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but the term seems so…”

“Affectionate?” Dominic took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. “Perhaps you are right. It is too soon. I do not mean to offend you.” His face brightened. “And today we will have a great adventure. I have much to show you before…” Dominic paused. A shadow crossed his face.

“You don't have to fly me to Georgetown, you know,” Jennie offered. “I could probably get a commercial flight.”

Dominic shook his head. “No, señorita. It is nothing. I would like to take you. We will get there much more quickly in Tío Manny's plane.”

He was right about that. Two hours later they were circling a beautiful Caribbean Island. Jennie decided she'd been silly to worry. Dominic was an excellent pilot and flying in the small craft made her want to take lessons—maybe even get her own plane someday. Maybe Gram would teach her.

Jennie studied the island, looking for the airport. “Um, Dominic, I hate to say this, but are you sure this is Grand Cayman? I mean, it can't be. There's no city, no resorts.”

The island on which Dominic was preparing to land consisted largely of jungle and patches of open fields. Just ahead of them lay a crude landing strip, six planes on the ground, and a large hangar. A dozen or so trucks that looked like military issue had been parked off to one side of the runway. On the far side of the island, Jennie noticed a long sand spit with a marina at one end. The sun glinted off the metal roofs of a dozen or so metal structures. And on a hill, overlooking it all, stood a castle.

The landing gear dropped into place. Jennie swal­ lowed back her growing uneasiness.

“Where are we? Why are you landing here?”

“Do not be alarmed, Jennie. I wanted to surprise you. This is my grandfather's island.”

Jennie gripped the leather seat to control her anger as much as to brace herself for the landing. “Trust me, Dominic, if you didn't want to alarm me, this was the wrong move. I can't believe you'd bring me here without asking me.”

“You are right. Perhaps I did act foolishly. But I wanted you to meet my grandfather. I have arranged for the others to join us here tomorrow. Matt will bring them. You will be safe.”

Dominic's lack of conviction when he said the word “safe” set off a wave of terror. What if Dominic had been the shooter? What if he wanted her dead?
No, McGrady
, her inner voice warned,
don't panic. Don't read any more into this than you can see on the surface. Dominic's family does things a little differently than you're used to. That's all.
He'd had plenty of opportunity to kill her, but he hadn't.
Dominic's a friend—eccentric maybe—but a friend. Give him some slack and see where it goes. And pray.

Not bad advice. Actually, other than screaming her guts out there wasn't much else she could do—at least not at the moment.

“You will love our island, Jennie. The hacienda is more beautiful than Tío Manny's resort. I hope you will relax and enjoy it.”

“You're sure you talked to Gram?”

“Matt is making all the arrangements. You will see.” Dominic eased the plane onto the landing strip like a veteran pilot. That should have made her feel better. It didn't.

Jennie did not like being manipulated. She did not want to be here. What was Dominic thinking? What did he want? They were friends. One minute they were having a great time on Jamaica, then poof, everything went wrong. She still couldn't believe it. Arrested for smuggling drugs she knew nothing about. Dominic had bribed the guards and they'd set her free—no charges or anything. Now she was on an isolated private island in the Caribbean with a guy she'd known for less than a week.

It was all too bizarre to be a coincidence. Had Dominic been planning this little side trip all along? No, that wasn't possible. He couldn't have known she'd miss the boat…unless he had been the one to set her up. Had he planted the cocaine and devised this elaborate plan to get her here? Why? What possible reason could he have?

McGrady, back off. You're letting your imagination run ahead of your common sense. He likes you and took advantage of the opportunity to show you his world. It's that simple. A private island. A gorgeous guy with money to burn. Enjoy it.

With no other choice available, Jennie followed Dominic to a waiting Jeep. “I am sorry I could not offer you a more pleasant ride to the hacienda, but the roads…” he shrugged. “You will understand when you see.” He helped her into the passenger seat and climbed in the other side.

They bumped along a narrow, unpaved road that wound through the jungle. There may have been room for two vehicles to pass, but Jennie doubted it.

Even though she'd told herself to relax, she couldn't.

As they drove along, Jennie tried to scope out the island in case she needed to escape. “It must be difficult to be so isolated. Is this the only road to the airport?”

“Sí. My grandfather is what you call…a recluse. The island is a fortress. It is heavily guarded to assure his privacy. The only other way is by boat.”

A camouflaged truck with an open bed, like those she'd seen at the airport, came to a stop in front of them. Dominic pulled off the road to let it pass. The driver, a large surly man wearing a sombrero, nodded at Dominic and flashed him a toothy grin. Another similar truck followed. Both were laden with bulging burlap bags. And guarded by four armed men in combat fatigues.

Drugs.
The word slammed into her stomach and nearly tore her insides apart. She closed her eyes and clung to the roll bar above her head.
Oh God, no. It can't be true. Please don't let it be true.

Jennie gulped back the question she couldn't ask and pretended only a passing interest in what she'd just seen.

“Are they heading for the airport?”

“Sí. Grandfather exports coffee beans, both from Colombia and from here.” He glanced over at her. “You noticed the guards. That concerns you, no?”

Jennie hauled in a deep breath to fight the rising hysteria. “Concerned? Why should I be concerned?” Her voice had shifted to soprano. “You bring me to your island, and the first thing I see are trucks loaded with
coffee
transported by armed guards.”

“Perhaps they are just hitching a ride to the airport. We have many employees and they often go to visit their families on the mainland. We are not more than twenty­ five miles from Cozumel.”

The thought gave Jennie hope on two fronts. One, that drugs were not involved, and two, they were not as isolated as she had first thought.

The road widened. Mud gave way to concrete and the jungle disappeared behind them. The buildings Jennie had seen from the air were massive up close. They drove through what looked like a loading area. Several men were tossing bundles from a large storage bin onto a truck.

“The coffee beans are brought here from the fields,” Dominic said, confirming her thoughts. “From here they go either to the airport or to the docks. Occasionally we have customers who ship by sea.”

Dominic turned away from the workmen and pulled into a parking lot that held several other Jeeps. All the same camouflage colors. If Jennie hadn't known better, she'd have suspected she was touring a military compound.

Military. Maybe not drugs, McGrady. Maybe guns. Smuggling guns to…someone.
Was that good or bad? Jennie wished she'd paid a little more attention to the military goings on in Central and South America. She knew there were uprisings and rebel groups but had no idea what they were called or what they stood for. Maybe Dominic's grandfather was one of the good guys, supply­ ing guns to troops who had pledged their lives to bring freedom to the oppressed. It sounded good. And it was much easier to accept than anything else she'd imagined. “Welcome, my friend—to the hacienda of Juan Carlos Ramirez.” Dominic stopped the Jeep and hurried around to her side. He had parked near a high stone wall topped with lethal-looking razor wire. The effect was softened slightly by remnants of the jungle that had either been planted or had survived the ravages of construction.

She scrambled out of the Jeep and took Dominic's proffered hand. They walked along the wall a short distance and stopped at a wide iron gate. Dominic punched a number into the small electronic box, and after a series of beeps, the lock clicked and the gate shuddered open.

Jennie hesitated. The temptation to run licked at the corners of her brain. She glanced back at the sea, cool and inviting, and counted the boats. Two outboard motors, a yacht, and a sailboat. Maybe she could reach one of them.
And maybe you'd better forget it.
Bolting now didn't make much sense. Dominic could outrun her. And even if she made it, the men, who looked more like desperados in a wild west movie than coffee-bean pickers, would gun her down before she got ten feet. All this went through her mind in less than a second, but Dominic picked up on her reluctance. Fortunately, he'd read her wrong.

“The sea draws you, querida? Does it not?” He took both of her hands in his and drew her forward as be backed through the gate. “It draws me as well. But come. Have lunch with me and meet my grandfather. Then I promise to take you sailing this afternoon.”

Sailing. Yes. He sounded so normal, Jennie wondered if all the warnings in her mind were figments of her fertile imagination. He'd called her querida again. His darling.

Maybe the danger wasn't in the drugs, or guns, or armed guards; maybe the danger was in Dominic himself. Did he love her more than he cared to admit? Was he so overcome with passion for her that he'd abduct her? Had he brought her here to…?
Don't even think it. Dominic's not like that.
The notion was so absurd Jennie nearly choked on her suppressed giggle.

No. She had to stop imagining things and look at the reality of what was happening. “That sounds wonderful, Dominic. So does lunch. I'm starved.” Sailing. Being on a sailboat would give her an advantage. If need be, she could bop Dominic on the head and sail to the mainland.

Lunch consisted of fresh fruit, a wonderfully spicy shrimp burrito, and salad. The hacienda was cool, and Jennie felt certain she had never seen a more beautiful home in her life. Like Señor García's resort, there was an open feel to the main part of the house. The white stucco walls and large open windows added to its sense of airiness. Plants hung everywhere. At least in the living and dining area. The bedrooms were a different matter.

Her room—actually it was a suite with a bedroom, sitting room, and bath—overlooked the water. She loved it except for one small detail. The windows were barred. Jennie tried not to think about that, concentrating instead on eating and on their coming sail.

“You are enjoying your meal?”

“Very much so. I'm sorry your grandfather couldn't join us.”

“He is in Cozumel on business for the day. You will meet him tonight at dinner. Like Tío Manny, Grandfather insists that our meals be taken formally, in the dining room. You still have the dresses Maria gave you?”

Jennie nodded. Maria had insisted she keep them. The knots in her stomach tightened as Dominic spoke of his grandfather. She envisioned the bust in the Garcías' resort—stern, cruel, unbending. She wasn't looking forward to meeting him.

As promised, Dominic took her sailing after they'd eaten. Wearing a bright orange life jacket over her royal blue swimsuit, Jennie positioned herself on the bow and let the wind whip through her hair. She wished the wind could blow away all the unnecessary stuff that had collected in her mind over the last few weeks. The confusion. The lies. The questions. “I just want to be able to see the truth in all of this,” she whispered.

Jennie turned and made her way along the starboard side toward the stern. She smiled, pleased that she'd remembered what to call the right side of the boat.

“Coming about!” Dominic shouted.

She knew what it meant—sort of—but it didn't register until too late. She caught a movement off to her left. The boom and mainsail whipped toward her. She ducked…but not soon enough. The boom caught her alongside the head and sent her hurling off the starboard into the sea.