Jack held up the paper. “This man snuck aboard a ferry. He knew your name.”
The earth shifted beneath her feet and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “He knew what name? Louise?” How could he?
“He said he’d come to do business with Claudia Goodwin.”
“Oh, no.” She swallowed, hoping to calm the nausea churning in her stomach. “They’ve found me.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned some mysterious ‘they,’” Jack said. “Your ex can’t be more than one person.”
Light-headed, Claudia collapsed on the sofa and placed her head between her knees. She couldn’t faint. She had to think, strategize an escape plan. But was she now trapped on this island? And where could she go that would be safer than here?
“Talk to me, Claudia,” Jack said.
She stared at the white tile and took deep breaths until she felt better. “What did you tell the stowaway?”
“That no one by that name lived on Collins Island.”
She raised her head and leaned against the cushions. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I ran a search on your name this morning,” Jack said. “I got hundreds of hits.”
“Of course you did,” she said wearily. So far the US Attorney had managed to keep the fact that she was Carlos’s ex out of the press, but someone would dig that out eventually. Probably when they got closer to trial. What journalist could resist the story of a wife testifying to convict her terrorist ex of murder?
“I didn’t have time to chase down every link,” Jack said.
“I guess you’re a busy guy.”
What should she tell him? The truth?
Her stomach tightened. What a nightmare. She had no choice but to tell him everything. Jackson Richards was a smart guy, a trained investigator. If he kept digging on the internet, he’d discover her marriage to Romero and be angry that she’d lied again. She’d already decided she needed him as an ally, not an enemy. Lying was no way to keep a friend.
Maybe if she was honest with him, laid her entire ugly situation out for him, he’d help her. Or at least keep her secret. So far he’d been a pretty nice guy.
But could she really trust him?
CHAPTER SIX
“I ALREADY KNOW you don’t have a police record.” Jack sat beside Claudia on the sofa, holding her gaze. For a moment he thought she’d be sick, but she looked better now.
“I wish I’d been able to run a search on you,” she said. “It’d help to know something about a man I’m about to trust with my life.”
“Your life?”
“Yes.”
“So why didn’t you do a search on my name?” Not that she’d find anything he didn’t want the world to know.
She sighed. “I don’t dare go online. I don’t know enough about security and firewalls, but I think I can assume I’d leave an easy trail to follow.” She looked away, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I guess somehow I did, anyway.”
“Are you really a nurse?”
“Yes. And I am hiding. That’s the truth.”
“Obviously. But there’s more to it than that. Who are you hiding from?”
She met his gaze again, and Jack knew she was trying to decide what to tell him. Was she deciding on a lie? Finally, she released a defeated breath and nodded to herself.
“I’m hiding from Carlos Romero.”
“Carlos Romero? The jerk who blew up the post office in Lauderdale?”
“Yes. He’s trying to kill me to keep me quiet.”
“What? Romero is in jail awaiting trial. It’s scheduled to start in a few weeks.”
She nodded. “Three weeks and counting. I’m the witness who is going to keep him locked away for life.”
Jack stared at her. This woman had more guts than he gave her credit for. Carlos Romero was reputed to be a stone-cold killer.
“You’re going to testify against Carlos Romero?”
She hesitated. “If I’m still alive.”
“What evidence do you have against him?”
“A lot. I can even put him at the post office.”
“You’re an eyewitness?”
Claudia looked away, which meant she was considering whether or not to make up a story. What did she have to lie about now? She clutched her fingers so hard the knuckles showed white through her skin.
After a deep inhalation, she met his gaze again and raised her chin. “I’m Romero’s ex-wife.”
“You were married to Carlos Romero?”
“Briefly,” she said, her voice breaking. “It was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Why isn’t your name Romero?”
“After the divorce, I took back my maiden name.”
Jack stood and began to pace. Wow. This wholesome, sweet-faced woman had been married to a terrorist? Or was she still lying?
He whirled on her. “If he’s in custody, how is he going to silence you?”
“He’s the leader of a group called the Warriors for Self Rule.”
Jack nodded. Everyone knew of the group. The media referred to them as the Warriors. They were a homegrown terrorist group that claimed to believe in self-determination and the rights of the individual. Nothing wrong with that philosophy, but when the government cracked down on them for refusal to pay taxes, the group turned violent and innocent people died.
“Were you a member of the Warriors? Is that how you met him?”
“Never. I hate them.” She swallowed. “When I realized something was off about the bastard, I started to keep a detailed journal of his activities. I gave it to the US Attorney I’m working with for safekeeping.”
“Go on.”
“Carlos gave the order to eliminate me when my name appeared on the witness list,” Claudia continued. “The US Attorney says without my testimony, he could go free. I’m the linchpin of his case.”
“Then why don’t the prosecutors have you under wraps in a safe house?”
She shook her head. “No way. I don’t trust them.”
“You don’t trust the federal government?”
“I don’t trust anybody.”
“But the feds want to put Romero away.”
“Don’t you read the paper?” Claudia asked, sounding exasperated. She leaped to her feet and began to pace. “The left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing.”
“Come on, Claudia.”
She whirled on him. “Carlos told me he has someone on the inside, that he found the right person to bribe. In a safe house, I’d be vulnerable with no way to protect myself.”
Paranoia strikes deep. Claudia was off the charts suspicious, and maybe with good reason considering the condition of her apartment. “So the Warriors trashed your home?”
“Yes, to scare me into silence, I think.”
“Or looking for your journal.”
She shrugged. “Management hasn’t cleaned it up yet?”
“The place was a disaster. Did you ever meet any of these Warriors, see them with your husband?” he asked.
She shrugged. “A few. They terrified me.” She looked into the distance, as if remembering. “They all wore these big, shaggy beards.”
Jack handed her the copy of Picard’s driver’s license. “Look at that again. Picture that guy with a beard.”
Claudia did as he asked. She narrowed her eyes, and he watched her face change.
“His license was recently issued, only six weeks ago,” Jack said. “It’s possible he deliberately altered his appearance.”
Claudia collapsed on the sofa. “Pick Heart.”
“What?”
She looked up. “Carlos called this guy Pick Heart, which always made me think of a sharp point being driven into someone’s chest. He w
as one of Carlos’s most loyal followers.”
Jack nodded. And his name was Picard. That definitely worked as far as gruesome nicknames went.
Claudia waved the photocopy of the license in the air. “How did they find me? I’m certain no one followed me to the ferry landing. I’ve only used cash since I fled my apartment.”
“Have you spoken to anyone on the island besides P.J.?”
Claudia hugged her arms. “I’ve only left this villa one time.”
“And?”
“Last night I went to the beach in the middle of the night and met a lady named Marsali.”
“Marsali Winthrop?”
“I don’t know her last name. She’s a gorgeous redhead.”
“French accent?”
“Yes.”
“That’s her,” Jack said. “Did you tell Marsali your name?”
“Of course not.”
“Maybe she snapped a photo of you with her phone?”
“She didn’t have a phone that I saw. Only a bottle of wine.”
“That’s definitely Marsali.” Jack sighed. “Of all the people for you to meet.”
“What’s wrong with Marsali? I liked her.”
“Yeah, I like her, too.” Jack shook his head, trying to dispel the face of the outrageous Marsali Winthrop. A practiced con artist, Marsali flirted with every man she met, usually captivating the object of her attention with her intelligence, wit and charm.
“I doubt Marsali knows your husband. They don’t travel in the same circles, but I’d like to make sure. Can I ask her to come over?”
“Come here?” Claudia’s eyes widened. “Why? No. I don’t want anyone to see me.”
“Marsali has already seen you.”
“But she doesn’t know where I live.”
“Would you rather go over to her villa? She’s close.”
Claudia shook her head. “No. Someone else might spot me.”
“We need to find out if Marsali told anyone about you.”
“So call her.”
“Won’t work,” Jack insisted. “I need to see her face to judge her reactions. She’s quite the practiced liar.”
Claudia nibbled on her bottom lip and looked away from him. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Then it’s a good thing I do.”
She narrowed her eyes. “They’ve found me. What does it matter how?”
“It matters to me,” Jack said. “I’ve got a dangerous security situation that I need to get a handle on. These terrorists may attempt to bring a bomb onto Collins Island.”
“A bomb?”
“That’s their MO,” Jack said. “I don’t want them exploding this villa or harming anyone on this island.”
Claudia placed a trembling hand over her mouth. “I’ve put other people in danger by coming here. I have to leave.”
“Maybe,” Jack said. But he didn’t like the idea of Claudia—of any woman—facing the Warriors on her own. He’d force her to contact the US Attorney’s Office for protection, if it came to that. He’d already tightened security for the ferry, but if the Warriors were involved, he needed to do more. Much more.
“Before you relocate, we need to finish gathering information.”
“I would never have come here if I thought anyone else could be hurt,” Claudia whispered. “I swear.”
Jack took her hand. “I believe you. And you’re not going to be harmed, either. You’re a guest of a resident, and as such you are under my protection.”
“I am?”
“Damn right.”
“Thank you,” she said. But she looked away, chewing on her bottom lip again. She was terrified. And obviously didn’t trust him. Or anyone.
“So can I call Marsali?” he asked. “I need to get ahold of her before she goes out for the evening.”
She raised her chin. “Do it. But please, please don’t mention Carlos Romero.”
* * *
MARSALI WINTHROP SWEPT in wrapped in a luxurious knee-length fur coat that Claudia knew the animal rights activists would want to trash with buckets of paint. Marsali shrugged off the fur into Jack’s waiting hands.
“Thank you, Jackson darling,” she purred in her musical accent when he’d placed the coat over a chair.
Claudia gaped at Marsali’s dress, a black silk sheath that hugged every curve of her slender body, revealing only a hint of cleavage. Glittering diamonds dangled from her ears and around her neck. She looked like royalty. All she needed was a tiara.
“Louise.” Marsali kissed both of Claudia’s cheeks, leaving behind a fragrance that likely cost as much as the wine had last night. “I hope you’re feeling better tonight, cherie.”
“Not really,” Claudia said.
Marsali turned to Jack. “I trust you intend to elevate her mood, Jackson.”
“Are you going off island tonight?” Jack asked.
“The Kirkmans are entertaining,” Marsali said. “I understand they have a guest from Dubai.” She shrugged gracefully. “So perhaps later an adventure to our private club on South Beach?”
“Ah. Will Lloyd accompany you to the Kirkmans’?”
“But of course. Unfortunately, as you know, he quickly grows weary and must retire early. Is that why you asked me to come over to Villa Alma, Jack? To inquire about my plans for the evening?”
“Can you sit, Marsali? I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Certainly.” With a curious glance to Claudia, Marsali perched on the edge of the sofa. “Is there any wine?” she inquired.
“I’m sorry,” Claudia said. “I don’t have anything except a beer left by the pool guy. You’re welcome to that.”
“Beer?” Marsali appeared interested. “From Belgium?”
“Mexico, I think.”
“No, thank you, cherie.” She looked back to Jack. “Now, what is this about, Jackson?”
“After you met Louise last night, did you tell anyone about her?” he inquired politely.
Claudia was no judge of liars like Jack claimed to be, but Marsali definitely appeared perplexed by the question. She looked at Claudia. “Is there a problem, cherie?”
“Remember I told you about my ex?” Claudia said.
Marsali nodded. “But of course.”
“I came to Collins Island to hide from him, and now somehow he’s found me.”
“And you think I may have given you away?” Marsali sounded offended.
“Not intentionally,” Claudia said quickly. “But maybe if you told someone about the crazy woman you met in the middle of the night—”
“Ah, cherie,” Marsali said. “You are not crazy. Just a betrayed woman. And, no, I did not mention our chance meeting to anyone, not even to my husband. Why would I?”
“You’re sure,” Jack asked, staring hard at Marsali.
“Yes,” Marsali said. “Did your ex beat you, cherie? Is that why you’re hiding?”
Claudia looked away.
“Ah.” Marsali rose and approached Claudia, speaking in rapid, musical words she didn’t understand, most likely French. Gathering Claudia into a fierce hug, Marsali spit out, “The bastard.”
Claudia hugged Marsali back. She hated lying to this woman, but had no choice. “Yes, a bastard,” she whispered.
Marsali turned to Jack and opened her arms. “So how can I help, Jackson?”
“Just don’t mention Louise to anyone.”
“Does this have anything to do with the stowaway the whole island is buzzing about?” Marsali asked.
“Yes,” Jack replied. His jaw tightened, which by now Claudia knew meant he wasn’t happy. “I didn’t know that was common knowledge.”
“Americans are such gossips,” Marsali said with an offhand wave
. “Do you want to move in with me, cherie? He couldn’t find you at my house.”
Claudia blinked back unexpected tears, experiencing a rush of gratitude that this woman, a stranger really, would be so kind. But of course Marsali didn’t know what she was offering, the danger her generosity would bring down on her household.
“No,” Claudia whispered. “I couldn’t do that. But thank you.”
Marsali nodded. “Then you must remain here, Jackson. If this man is managing to get aboard the ferry, you must personally guard Louise all night.” She turned back to Claudia. “Jack is an expert in martial arts, a black belt.”
“Thanks for the security advice,” Jack said.
“You are quite welcome.” Marsali moved to her fur, took a pink business card from a pocket and returned to Claudia. “This is my cell number. Call me anytime. Even if you just want to chat.”
Claudia looked down at the card, which contained Marsali’s first name and a phone number in a lovely, flowing script. The same fragrance emanating from its owner floated up from the card.
“Thank you,” Claudia said.
“But of course, cherie. We women must stick together.”
Claudia glanced at Jack. He watched Marsali with hands on his hips and narrowed eyes.
“Now, I really must be off or risk being late,” Marsali said. “Do you require something else, Jackson?”
“Just your promise not to mention Louise.”
“Oui.” Marsali placed an expertly manicured hand over her heart and said, “I promise to tell no one about Louise.”
Jack held up the fur, and Marsali slipped her arms into the sleeves.
“Thanks for coming, Marsali.”
“My pleasure.” She patted Jack’s cheek with her long, graceful fingers, and exited in a sweep of expensive perfume.
Jack moved to the monitor, and Claudia followed him. Marsali appeared on the screen and gracefully entered a long, black limo just outside the gate. Of course she wouldn’t drive around in a golf cart. Not Marsali. A uniformed chauffeur—complete with a hat—closed the door and disappeared.
When the limo drove out of sight, Jack relocked the gate and armed the security system.
“Don’t worry about the chauffeur,” Jack said. “He’s been with the Winthrops for years and is very well paid.”
Accidental Bodyguard Page 8
