Miranda Vaughn Mystery 01.00 - Chasing the Dollar (19 page)

"
It should have gone to you. You do more work than anyone else, and you do it better," he'd insisted.

That was true. At the time I had been upset that I hadn
't gotten the recognition, but I wouldn't let Dylan refuse the promotion, which he had offered to do. Eventually, I'd been promoted, too. Now I wondered if that's just how people like him operated. He knew exactly what to say to me to get what he wanted. He'd played me perfectly.

I looked up to see Jake watching me, his face impassive and quiet.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"
Before today? He came to the bakery a few weeks ago, said he'd try to help me find a job," I said. "And before that, when he broke off our engagement. After I was arrested."

I couldn
't tell if he believed me, and suddenly it was vital that he did.

"
I had no idea he was a sociopath," I said.

"
That's how they work," Jake said.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the muted jungle noises filtering through the windows.

"Did he tell you how much money is in the accounts?"

Dylan hadn
't, but between what Bill had said and the patterns of deposits and transfers, I had a pretty good idea of what was in there.

"
Dylan didn't say. Bill thought there was enough money for him to start a new life," I said.

Jake
's eyes narrowed slightly. "But he didn't say how much?"

I shook my head.
"No. The spreadsheets show just over ten thousand dollars."

Was I being deceitful by not telling him what I
'd figured out? I was pretty sure of the patterns I'd seen, and if my math was right, there was about ten to twelve million dollars sitting in the account. It wouldn't cover all of the investors' losses, but it might convince them to settle the case. That happened all the time, right? Both sides gave a little to get the matter resolved. The people suing would recover some of their money in return for not dragging out the litigation for years and having some certainty that they'd recover some of their losses.

"
You're not telling me everything," he said. His voice wasn't accusatory, just matter-of-fact.

I sighed.
"There's a pattern of deposits. It looks automated. But the withdrawals are random, so I think they were done by Bill or someone working with him."

"
How much do you think is in the account?"

"
Maybe twelve million," I said.

He went silent and leaned back in the chair, studying me intently in the dim light.

"Tell me everything Bill said," he said.

I settled in, tugged the robe around me
, and recounted everything I could remember Bill said as he drove me around Belize City. Jake sat still and absorbed the story, his face impassive.

"
How is your sister going to take the news that Bill's dead?" I asked.

A quick flash of emotion crossed his face—guilt, sorrow. It was gone before I could parse it.

"The divorce wasn't amicable, but they were being civil for the children. They'd reached a pretty good place, I think. It won't be easy for her. Molly cares deeply for him, which is why she wanted me to go find him."

"
I'm sure she never thought it would lead to all this," I said, suddenly feeling guilty for dragging him into my mess.

He frowned.
"I'm sure you didn't, either."

I looked away, toward the screened window. I should have been home by now, the money safely in my offshore account waiting to get distributed to the victims
' lawyers so the lawsuit could be dismissed. My only concern should be explaining to Rob how it was I came to find the stolen funds. Instead, I was deep in the jungle running from Dylan and God knows who else. I wasn't even on the right continent.

Jake shifted, and a slight groan escaped his lips. I stood and headed toward the bathroom.
"There's more pain reliever in the first-aid kit. I'll get it."

He stood and shook his head.
"It's fine, don't worry about it."

We were standing close to each other, close enough that our bodies were almost touching. The air between us was charged. His eyes were intent on mine, his gaze dark and dangerous. The naked desire there robbed me of breath, and I wondered if it was his emotion or my own being mirrored back to me. I lowered my eyes, bringing my gaze level to Jake
's chest. The robe gaped open and exposed a wide, well-muscled chest. My fingers itched to slide beneath the terry cloth and across the warm skin.

A long moment passed, and I exhaled slowly, trying to calm my nerves and my pulse.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all this. I'm sorry for my part in it."

I shook my head.
"You couldn't have known that Bill had a gun."

He reached up and smoothed my hair away from my face, and the touch made me shiver all over.

"That's not what I meant," he said, his voice deep. "I mean for all of this. The arrest. The trial. All of it."

I stood still and let the words sink in.

"It's not your fault." I didn't know what else to say. "Dylan set me up. He pulled all these strings. I was engaged to the man, and I never suspected he had a hand in this."

Jake leaned in and kissed the top of my head in a gesture so tender a piece of my heart melted away.

"He's not going to get away with it," he said.

"
He threatened my aunt. He said that he'd tell every cartel member where she lived," I said, my voice betraying my panic.

Jake tilted my chin until I looked him in the eye.

"I won't let him hurt you or your aunt."

Standing there, in his arms, even in the middle of a jungle where we knew no one and could trust no one—and I had never felt safer.

Jake continued smoothing away my tangled hair and then cupped my face in his large hand. He leaned down then stopped, and my heart skipped a beat.

I kept my eyes on his, waiting for him to move in closer. The heat between us grew, and the air seemed heavier. His thumb caressed my cheek, but he didn
't lean in closer.

I reached up and ran my fingers up his chest, to his neck, across the scruff on his face. His jaw tensed as my hand brushed against his hair. It was as soft as I had imagined it, the damp strands sliding through my fingers. My breath caught. I pulled him closer, finding little resistance until his lips were inches from mine.

"No," he said, his hoarse voice whispered.

"
What?" I blinked.

"
You're upset," he said, resting his forehead against mine. "I don't want to—"

Oh, damn it.
I had never wanted anything in my life like I wanted him at that moment. And he was going to go and be decent and a gentleman? Not if I had anything to say about it.

"
I'm not so upset that I don't know what I want," I whispered.

He inhaled and shifted, and I could feel he wanted me, too.
"Miranda," he said after a moment. "I can't take adv—"

"
Take advantage of me?" I asked, pulling away just far enough to reach down and tug at the belt of my robe. I shrugged it from my shoulders and felt it fall at my feet. Jake's sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room. The cool air touched my skin, but the look he gave me made me flush hot. "I want this. I want you. More than anything."

A deep growl, and then he reached for my face again, this time kissing me deeply, our tongues meeting and breath mingling. My body arched as if possessed, and my heart thudded. He lifted me easily, and I was suddenly beneath him on the bed, his weight pinning me to the soft coverlet.

"Your leg," I said, remembering the injury.

His face was buried in my neck, and I felt him smile, and he began kissing a trail down my body igniting a thousand fires on my skin as each nerve reacted to his touch. When he responded, his voice was dark and deep with passion. With promise.

"It doesn't hurt so bad that I don't know what I want."

My skin tingled under Jake
's lips, and my heart raced. I closed my eyes as he kissed my collarbone, his hand skimming my side, inching up slowly from my waist. His skin was warm where my hands touched, and I could feel the tension just below the surface.

His lips burned a path up my neck as his hand moved around and spanned my back, hot and solid, pinning me to him. Our lips met again, and my body reacted instinctively, arching and pressing against Jake. I heard him moan at the contact, and the sound was nearly enough to push me over the edge.

"Jesus, Miranda," he whispered, his lips next to my ear. The sound of my name on his lips was an aphrodisiac of its own. The blood pounded in my head, nearly drowning out everything else.

Slowly, it dawned that the pounding sound was external, not internal.

The door to the cabin nearly vibrated with the force of someone pounding on it. Jake leapt off the bed, and the sharp intake of breath that followed indicated he'd forgotten about his injured leg.

"
Mr. Barnes," Klaus yelled from the other side of the door and pounded again.

In the darkened room, I could barely make out the outline of Jake at the door. He opened it, and Klaus started to enter, glanced in my direction
, and saw me clutching the robe around my body, then stepped back out of my view.

"
You have to leave."

"
What?"

Jake
's incredulous and angry tone triggered my brain to go on high alert. I had no idea how long we'd been kissing. Why were we being evicted?

"
I brought your clothes. You have to leave. Now."

Jake took a laundry basket from the innkeeper and dropped it on the floor next to him, but made no move toward the pile of clothes. I slipped the bathrobe on and joined Jake at the door.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Even in the dim light, Klaus
's blush was apparent.

"
Sorry, miss," he said. "Whoever you're running from, they've found you."

Jake swore, and I grabbed the laundry and headed to the bathroom to get dressed. Through the closed door, I could hear Jake and Klaus talking, but their voices were muffled. I splashed some water on my face. The door slammed, and a moment later Jake burst into the bathroom.

He pulled his clothes out of the laundry basket and dropped the robe, standing next to me wearing only his boxers. My mouth went dry at the sight, but I shook myself and kept throwing items into the duffel bag.

"
What happened?" I asked, adding the first-aid kit to the duffel bag.

"
They heard a call over a radio. Someone saw the car on the road before we turned off to get here," he said, pulling a shirt over his head. "He's going to hide the car."

"
How will we get out of here?"

"
We're taking their Jeep. I told him we'll leave it at the airport. He can say we stole it, deny seeing us or helping us."

"
Why are the police looking for us? Because we didn't go to the hospital like we said?"

Jake paused and shook his head.
"It's not the police looking for us. It's probably Bill's clients. I just know that Klaus doesn't want to get on their bad side, and us being here is too risky for them."

I shivered and sat on the edge of the tub and shoved my bare feet into my sneakers. The shoes were still damp from the dive off the pier. Jake shook out a pair of pants and started to put them on, but I stopped him to check the bandage on his leg.

"It's fine," he said. "Do you have everything?"

I nodded.
"Where are we going now?"

Jake threw the last of our belongings in the bag and zipped it.

"To the airport and then back to the States," Jake said.

It sounded good. It sounded really good. The thought of seeing Aunt Marie, my tiny apartment, the sweet fragrance of the bakery—it made my heart soar. But I
'd be giving up, abandoning my mission. Going home to the same situation, still outcast and unemployed. But even more broke.

"
But the money—" I started.

He strode forward and put his hands on my shoulders.
"Miranda, it's too dangerous."

He bent down and kissed me briefly. The soft touch of his lips was reassuring, but didn
't dull the edge of the disappointment slicing through me.

Jake picked up the bag, and I followed him out of the cabin.

A few minutes later we were driving away in the borrowed hard-topped Jeep—not in the direction we had come, but continuing past the Gaia Lodge with directions from Klaus. He insisted we couldn't go back on the main road in, but we were in for a long, slow drive to meet up with a road that would eventually get us back to Belize City. The road was rutted, but the Jeep handled it better than the small car Jake had stolen. When we left, the sky above the treetops was a deep black as we left, but had slowly turned to a dark grey as we crept along the trail that would lead us to a main road, which would take us back to the city.

As we jostled over tree roots, I studied Jake in the light from the dashboard. His dark hair was as tousled as when he
'd jumped out of bed, and the scruff of his two-days growth of beard gave him a dangerous look. He glanced at me and caught me staring and gave me a smile.

"
You alright?" he asked, turning his attention back to the path we were driving on.

"
Yes, fine." The more removed we were from the encounter in the cabin, the more uncomfortable I became.

"
You want to talk about anything?" he asked.

My mind flashed on an image of him, of us, last night. My face flushed hot. Did I want to talk about that? No, not really. But I also didn
't want to leave him with the wrong idea about me.

"
Yeah, about last night. I just want you to know, that's pretty unusual for me. Very unusual," I blurted out.

"
Oh," Jake said. He gave me a quick glance before turning back to the road in front of us.

"
I mean, after Dylan broke up with me, I wasn't really in good place to start dating again, you know? And I'd been with Dylan for four years."

"
Uh huh," he said, turning the wheel to avoid a broken branch that lay across our path.

"
What I'm trying to say is, I'm not usually so, uh, forward," I said.

The Jeep came to a sudden stop, and Jake pulled the brake up between the seats. He turned to me, his face serious, and reached over, putting his hand on the side of my face, which was growing hotter by the second. My eyes widened at his touch.

"That's too bad," he said. "I liked how forward you were last night."

He pulled me closer and kissed me, slowly and deliberately, igniting a fire within that threatened to consume me. When he pulled away, I was breathless. Jake kept his hand at my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw. A small smile hovered over his lips.

"I don't know what's going to happen when we get back to the States," he said, his dark eyes locked on mine. "But I'd like to have a date that didn't involve guns or car chases. You up for that?"

I nodded, and he kissed me again, sending my head spinning.

"Anything else you want to talk about?"

I shook my head, unable to find my voice, and the slight smile hovering around his lips grew.
"Good."

He released the emergency brake and put the car in gear, and we lurched forward on the rutted trail in silence.

We inched along the route for what seemed like hours. The road smoothed out after a while, and by the time the sky turned to a light grey, we turned onto a paved road. Jake reached across me and opened the glove box, taking out a map that he handed to me.

"
Klaus traced the route to Belize City," he said.

I opened the map, the kind that tourists would use to get around on vacation, and saw the red ink outlining the roads to take us out of the jungle. I pointed out the next turn and studied the landscape passing the window. The thick, dark green canopy over the road shaded us from the early morning light. It was still cool, probably the coolest part of the day, but the air was humid and heavy with the promise of another hot day.

"When we find a place that's open, we'll get something to eat," Jake said.

My stomach grumbled in agreement, and I realized that the fruit from last night was the last food I
'd had.

"
Isn't Matt Reese expecting us to transfer the money?" I asked, turning back to Jake. He continued to keep his eyes on the road, but his jaw tensed.

"
Yes, but he's going to be disappointed," he said. "Even if we wanted to, we don't have a computer to look at the drive and get the information for the accounts."

"
I don't need a computer. The accounts are in my name. I have my passport. I can go in and transfer the funds. That's why Bill kidnapped me. It's why Dylan groomed Katrina to look like me."

Jake was silent for a moment, and I thought he was just going to ignore me. When he spoke, he sounded doubtful.

"Even if we could get access to the money, where would we transfer it to? I've lost that piece of paper with the government's account number."

"
To the account I set up in the Caymans. Or the government's account. I remember the number. Whichever one they'll accept for the transfer."

He shook his head.

"You set up an account? Jesus—forget the money, Miranda. It's not worth it."

"
We have an opportunity to help the hundreds of people who lost their money and may end a huge money laundering scheme. We can't walk away."

"
Yes, we can. If we stay too long here, we're just asking to get shot."

"
Then we'll be quick. It won't take me long at all to transfer the money at the bank. We can be there when they open."

"We'll give the information to Matt, and he can open a case. This is what he and the FBI do. Just let them do their jobs."

I sat back in my seat and crossed my arms. By the time the FBI had the information, the money would be gone. We both knew it. The scheme would be dismantled and reassembled under other names, in other banks, and would carry on as usual.

The Jeep rounded a gentle curve and three buildings perched in a row along the side of the road appeared. One had a rusty gas pump in front, and Jake pulled off the road and parked behind the small station.

"
Stay here. I'll see if they have anything to eat."

I got out of the Jeep to stretch my cramped legs. Pacing the few feet between the building and the Jeep, I tried to figure out the best course of action now. If we went directly to the airport and Matt was able to get us out of
Belize, we'd be in the States by the end of the day. Game over. No money for the Sahara Fund investors. No chance of redemption for me.

But he was right—the odds of getting shot at again were considerably lower. The money would get frozen by the
U.S. government, if it could reach Belize accounts through that country's strict bank secrecy laws. Though with the sums I had seen on Bill's spreadsheet, I figured that a well-placed bribe could buy access to the accounts, even without the back-up drive and spreadsheet with account numbers and names.

I was so close to doing what I came here to do. All I needed was to get to the bank. Jake
's fears weren't unfounded, but how much delay could it cost us to stop there on the way to the airport? If there was ten million dollars in those accounts, the investors could get about one-quarter of their money back, and that would go a long way to repaying them. Maybe enough to get them to drop the lawsuit. And I would be able to show who was really in charge of the scheme and finally prove that I had nothing to do with it.

I was lost in my thoughts, staring at the lush green landscape beyond the dusty driveway, when Jake walked around the corner, startling me.

"Coffee?" he asked, holding up a paper cup.

I nodded and took it, inhaling the scent of the dark brew.
"Just what I need."

He held up a brown paper bag.
"Breakfast?"

My stomach rumbled, and my mouth nearly watered at the scent. My resolve to fight to go to the bank wavered as I considered the food in his hand.
Damn
. He certainly knew how to distract me.

We sat in the Jeep with the doors open and ate the tortillas filled with beans and rice without speaking. The dark, smoky coffee lifted my mood slightly, but the rumble of a car passing on the street brought me back to the gravity of our situation. Jake tensed, too, and looked in the direction of the truck, which limped along the empty road and continued past the three buildings without stopping.

I exhaled and lost a bit of my appetite. Jake's cell phone rang from the center console, and I jumped again. I wasn't cut out for life on the run.