Dangerous Allies (The Ruby Danger Series Book 1)

by Rickie Blair

  So where was he, then? Ruby placed a hand over her heart and closed her eyes, picturing the scene. Antony would walk in and flash that crooked grin that always melted her heart. She would put one hand on her hip and pout. He would shrug sheepishly and apologize. They would laugh and tumble together onto the brocaded bedspread—

  She opened her eyes. Right. Which rom-com script was that from?

  She returned her attention to the tote bag, packed with essentials for her trip to Vancouver: tiny jars of theatrical makeup, spirit gum, and liquid latex; wigs for her and the girls; even gelatin capsules of fake blood. Her nieces loved to put on plays for their dad, Quentin, whenever Aunt Ruby visited. Naomi had wanted to be a vampire this time. So had four-year-old Sarah, who believed vampires ate peanut butter.

  Ruby slipped her hand into a zippered side pocket and drew out a tiny velvet bag. One tug on the frayed drawstring and a polished green malachite pebble fell onto her outstretched hand. She clasped her fingers around its cool stone surface, remembering the day she and Lily had found it on the shore. She picked up her cellphone, rolled back the girls’ video and froze the screen. Sarah looked more like her mother every day. The same vivid blue eyes, the same soft smile.

  With a sigh, Ruby tucked the pebble back into its velvet bag and resumed her search. When she reached the bottom, the concealer stick rolled into her hand. She swept the theatrical supplies and the Hello Kitty bracelet back into the bag, but as she replaced it on the floor a metallic gleam on the carpet caught her eye. Ruby bent over for a closer look. Plucking a pair of sapphire and platinum earrings from the carpet, she held them up to the light and stared at the sparkling stones. Antony would be furious they weren’t in the safe.

  Why weren’t they in the safe, though? She frowned. Had she worn them last night? Her frown deepened. She couldn’t remember. Oh, dear God. She couldn’t remember wearing earrings worth as much as a small car less than twenty-four hours earlier. What else had she forgotten? Drawing a sharp breath, she placed the earrings on the vanity. No harm done. Just put them back in the safe.

  The earrings’ velvet-lined box was wedged between the vanity mirror and a bottle of hand lotion. Ruby tucked the earrings into it and then padded down the hall to the bedroom at the suite’s far end, beyond the main living area. There, she stopped at the wall safe and stared at the keypad, her plan thwarted because she had no idea what code Antony had used to program the lock.

  Hari Bhatt—Antony’s CFO and best man at their wedding—was always ribbing him about his easily guessed passwords. Once he even found several written on a yellow sticky note taped to Antony’s computer. According to Hari, who had recounted this tale during dinner at the Carvers’ Manhattan apartment, Antony had replied, ‘So what? Security is what I pay you for.’

  Grinning, Ruby flexed her fingers. She wasn’t as smart as Hari, but she could figure this out. First, she keyed in Antony’s birthday. Nope. Her birthday. Nope. Their anniversary? As if. Her fingers hovered over the keys. She tried the date that Carvon, Antony’s company, had been incorporated. Ruby had seen photos of magnums of Cristal being popped in the office that day, the champagne spraying the floor, the desks, even the men’s suits. So you’d think … but still, nope.

  Tilting her head, she studied the keypad. It had both letters and numbers on it, so she tried t-i-m-n-c, for ‘This Is My New Code.’ The safe beeped, and the door clicked ajar. She tapped her fingers on the door and chuckled. Might as well use 0-0-0.

  Sliding stacked folders to one side to make room for the earrings, she noticed a red leather box leaning against the back wall. Ruby tugged it out of the safe. She pushed Antony’s cardigan aside, sat on the bed, and placed the box beside her, staring at the rich embossed leather. Could it be a gift? After turning the small gold key in the lock, she flipped open the lid and stared at the contents.

  It was not a gift.

  Three bundles of hundred-dollar bills lay atop a stack of documents. She picked up the plastic-wrapped money and checked the markings. Each bundle held one hundred bills, thirty thousand dollars in all. Why would Antony need thirty thousand in cash on a cruise ship?

  Ruby placed the plastic-wrapped bills on the bed and turned back to the box. Under the bills were four passports, three American and one Canadian. She picked up the first American passport and thumbed to the data page. Antony’s photo looked back at her. Dropping that passport on the bed, she picked up the next one. The second passport also bore Antony’s picture but a different name, one she had never seen. She picked up the Canadian passport and flipped it open. Antony’s picture stared out at her yet again, but her stomach lurched as she read the name beside it. Quentin Wade.

  Ruby’s hand shook as she dropped the open passport on the bed. The air conditioning in the bedroom had been cranked up high, and she shivered as water dripped from her still-damp hair onto her bare shoulders. She stared at the passport, rubbing her throat. Why would Antony, an American citizen, have a Canadian passport? But more than that, why was it in her brother-in-law’s name?

  Quentin Wade.

  Mild-mannered assistant English professor, beloved father of Naomi and Sarah, bereft widower of Ruby’s deceased sister, Lily. How had a passport in his name come to be locked aboard a ship cruising the Caribbean, thousands of miles from his home in Vancouver? It couldn’t be Quentin’s real passport, since the photo was Antony’s. Ruby bent her head, her shoulders curled, fighting a wave of panic.

  Straightening up, she took a deep breath and pulled the leather box nearer. Two manila envelopes lay under the passports. She ripped open one envelope and shook out its contents. Ten certificates with green embossed edges spilled out. The name and logo of a Cayman Islands bank was printed along the top, followed by tiny printing and a holograph that rippled when she tilted the heavy vellum pages.

  They were bonds, each for one million U.S. dollars. And the second manila envelope looked as if it held the same. Twenty million dollars in all. Ruby scanned the certificates for the registered owner’s name and found nothing. These were bearer bonds, cashable by anyone who held them, no questions asked. Having once researched them for a role, she knew bearer bonds were popular with criminals and screenwriters, but they hadn’t been issued in the United States for decades. Ruby smoothed a finger across a hologram, frowning as it caught the light.

  After sliding the bonds back into the torn envelope, she placed both envelopes on the bed and scanned the remaining items in the box: a printed itinerary and two plane tickets for a flight to Caracas from an airstrip on Pintado Island. The Apollonis would arrive at Pintado Island in two days. Was Antony planning to leave the cruise? And why would he need two tickets?

  Ruby brightened. Maybe one was for her. Maybe this was a second honeymoon surprise, and the fake passports an elaborate joke. She tapped a finger on her ear, studying the itinerary with a sigh. That didn’t sound like Antony.

  She turned back to the papers on the bed, pawed through them for the third American passport and opened it. A blonde woman in her early twenties stared back at her. The name was unknown to Ruby, and so was the face.

  Water trickled down her back as she gaped at the passport. Shivering, she reached for Antony’s cardigan and started to slip it on. The room shimmered as tears stung her eyes. Ruby ripped the sweater off her arm, bundled up the cashmere, and hurled it across the room where it landed on the floor in a heap. She crossed her arms and leaned over, feeling as if she had been kicked in the stomach.

  A voice startled her, and she jerked her head around.

  “Sorry. I thought the room was empty.” Mila, the maid from the balcony, stood in the doorway, clutching towels to her chest and staring at the bundles of cash. Then she backed out of the room.

  Chapter Three

  As the door closed behind Mila, Ruby sighed at the papers strewn over the bed. Now the entire crew would know there was enough cash lying around the Emperor Suite to buy a small yacht. Just what she needed, more rumors.

  She stuffed the ca
sh back into the leather box and stood up, sniffling. Antony had promised her a second honeymoon and she was jumping to conclusions. There had to be an explanation and she should simply ask him.

  Pacing beside the bed, she mentally rehearsed that conversation. She would tell Antony she had broken into the safe and, now, wondered why he had taken three fake passports and twenty million dollars in bearer bonds on a one-week cruise. She paused, blowing air through her lips. Yeah, that would work.

  Her gaze fell on Antony’s laptop on the desk in the den next to the bedroom and she walked over and flipped it open. Hari had set up this laptop for Antony, so the password would be impossible to guess. But knowing her husband often neglected to turn off his computer, Ruby pressed the space bar. Sure enough, the screen lit up. She glanced at the door into the bedroom. A quick look couldn’t hurt.

  After first tightening the towel around her chest, she sat down and scanned the screen. The most prominent folder, labeled Caracas, held several documents. One was an itinerary that matched the one in the leather box. Another was a statement for a numbered account at a Cayman Islands bank, with dozens of deposits but no withdrawals.

  Tapping a finger on the keyboard, Ruby studied the statement. Antony managed her nieces’ insurance settlement, the one Quentin’s lawyer had negotiated after Lily’s fatal accident. Given Antony’s lauded investment smarts, the girls’ fund could be worth two or even three million dollars by now. Antony had set up several Carvon subsidiaries in Ruby’s name to lower their taxes, and this could be a similar dodge for her nieces.

  She had not kept track of her nieces’ fund, and Quentin hadn’t either. During her last visit to Vancouver, Ruby found account statements, the envelopes still sealed, on her brother-in-law’s desk. Quentin never cracked open the business pages, as far as she knew. He was content to let Antony invest the girls’ money. She had tucked one of those statements into her tote bag, intending to file it away at home. Since she hadn’t cleaned out that bag in months, it was probably still there.

  She scrolled down to the final total on the account statement and sat back, astonished. Even Antony couldn’t have run the girls’ fund up to five hundred million dollars. This had to be something else.

  Scanning the screen, she clicked on a folder labeled Carvon and opened a few documents at random. They were Carvon account statements for small subsidiaries. If Antony were going to Caracas with an anonymous blonde, why would he need details of company transactions? Was he going to run the company from there? Ruby flopped back against the chair. She must be overreacting. The huge fund could be a Carvon investment, and the blonde a business associate, maybe even an employee.

  She studied the document on the screen. Hari would know if this was Carvon business, but would he tell her? She could send him the documents and ask, but e-mailing from Antony’s computer would leave a trail. She snapped her fingers and jumped to her feet.

  Ruby darted down the hall to the master bedroom, rummaged through her bag for the Hello Kitty bracelet and ran back to the den. After inserting the USB drive into a slot on the laptop, she copied the folders onto it. With the download underway, she went back to the bedroom off the den to return the passports and bonds to the leather box. As she picked up the manila envelope, her heart sank at the jagged tear across the top. Why had she been so impulsive?

  Returning to the den, she rifled through the desk drawers for a replacement envelope and took it back to the bedroom. After transferring the bonds from the torn envelope to the new one, she sealed it and added it to the leather box. Once the box was back in the safe, she shut the door and tapped lock. As the safe whirred and clicked, she took a deep breath. Next— The door to the suite opened and closed.

  “Ruby?”

  Antony was back.

  She darted into the den, yanked out the USB drive, shut the laptop and fastened the Hello Kitty bracelet around her wrist with trembling fingers. Stuffing the torn manila envelope under her towel, she held it in place with her upper arm. Her heart pounded and she drew a deep breath, trying to calm down.

  That was when she realized one desk drawer was still open.

  As Antony walked in, Ruby leaned back against the desk with her arms crossed and raised a knee to close the drawer with her foot.

  Antony stared at her from the doorway. His sandy gray hair had thinned in the five years since their marriage and his face was sunken and tired despite his golf-course tan.

  He walked over and sat down at the desk beside her.

  “What are you doing in here?” he said, opening the laptop.

  “I came in to tell the maid to leave your things alone. She wanted to tidy the den, and I knew you wouldn’t want your stuff moved.”

  Antony, engrossed in a document on the screen, only grunted.

  “Are you interested in lunch, Antony?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll get something from room service.” As she stood up he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “What’s that?” He ran a finger along the pink Hello Kitty bracelet.

  “I bought it for Naomi,” she said, her heart hammering. “She loves Hello Kitty.”

  He nodded, still holding her wrist. “So why are you wearing it?”

  “I … took a picture of it for the girls. They sent me a video this morning. Would you like to see it?”

  Antony shook his head without looking up and stroked the bracelet with his thumb.

  “I’m sorry about your trip to Vancouver. I know you were looking forward to it.”

  “I’ll catch up with them later.”

  He glanced up with a look she hadn’t seen in a while.

  “Maybe I can make it up to you.”

  “Maybe you can.” Her heart was racing again.

  He stood up and pulled her closer.

  “So tell me, in this picture you sent the girls, were you wearing only a towel and a rubber bracelet?” He slid his hand up her arm and along her shoulder. “What happened to all that luggage you insisted we bring?”

  Tangling his fingers in her damp hair, he pressed his other hand against the small of her back, pulled her forcefully against him, and bent to kiss her.

  The envelope rustled under her towel. Panicked, she pushed him away.

  “I have a spa appointment.”

  He gave her a puzzled look and his eyes grew cold. “Of course you do.” He straightened up and turned to the desk.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t rush. I have work to do.” He sat down and went back to reading the laptop’s screen.

  “Antony?”

  “What?” When she didn’t reply, he turned to look at her and raised his voice. “What?”

  “If something was wrong, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “If there were problems … at work, say. At Carvon. You would tell me, right?”

  “What have you heard?” he snapped.

  “Nothing. I just—”

  “There’s a slight problem with the secondary share issue. `Nothing that needs to concern you.”

  “Is that all?”

  Sighing, he turned back to the laptop.

  “I’m busy, Ruby. Go to your appointment.”

  She backed away, clamping her arm against her side, and hustled down the hall. In the master bedroom, she closed the door behind her, pulled the torn envelope from under her towel and threw it into the wastebasket. Then she grabbed her leather tote bag, shoved the Hello Kitty bracelet into an inside pocket and zipped it shut. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest.

  Hari would help her. He had to help her.

  Chapter Four

  Mila held both hands over her ears, wincing as backup beepers echoed off the cavernous steel walls and the rumble of forklifts resonated in her chest. Ducking behind a wall of crates, she peered at the Apollonis’s huge marshaling area through a gap in the stacked provisions. A white-uniformed petty officer signaled a worker near the far wall, but the
officer was looking away from Mila. She could chance it. She darted out from behind the boxes and turned right.

  “Look out!”

  A forklift truck stacked with melons swept past her with inches to spare. The truck halted with its engine chugging. The driver, who wore a hard hat and earmuffs, looked over his shoulder at her. Shaking his head, he pointed to the exit. Mila splayed her fingers in the air and mouthed five minutes. The driver shrugged and moved on.

  With the departing forklift as cover, Mila sprinted to the wall on her right and stopped to scan the vast room. Where was Dimitri? Checking her pocket to make sure its precious contents had not fallen out during her dash from the door, she stood on tiptoe to survey the area. There was no sign of her husband among the thousands of boxes, bins, and barrels. Mila had often heard the ship’s tour guides count out the massive amounts needed to feed two thousand guests on a week-long cruise: two hundred and fifty pounds of cheese, twenty thousand pounds of fresh vegetables, nine thousand eggs, eighteen thousand pounds of beef, two hundred tubs of vanilla ice cream. Today, all that and more stood in her way.

  The petty officer turned in Mila’s direction and she scrunched down behind large blue barrels marked grease. On her left, about twenty paces away, was the cold storage room. The kitchen staff stored the chopped fruit for rum punches and other umbrella-topped beverages in the cold room. Dimitri went there to replenish the stock in the promenade bars, so it was worth a look.

  Mila jogged over, tugged open the heavy door and parted the plastic strips that kept the frigid air from escaping. Inside, she strolled along the narrow aisles of metal shelving, rubbing her goose-bumped arms.

  “Looking for something?” a voice said behind her.

  Whirling, she almost bumped into a heavily muscled man with a black brush cut, knitted brows, and a hissing cobra tattooed on his cheek. Mila shuddered. Why did she have to run into Bogdan, of all people? She glanced sidelong at the door. She had been trying to escape notice, but a petty officer’s arrival at this moment would be a relief.