by Valerie Parv
"That would take a lot of money," Serena said. She recalled her theory that the Hand lived aboard a boat. If she was right, the island story could have grown up around his anonymity and elusiveness.
"He has money," Junot stated. "I think he's some kind of big-time criminal using Carramer First for his own benefit."
"That's the first logical thing you've said so far," Garth growled. He stuck the knife into his belt. "Much as I hate to deal with the likes of you, you're all we've got." His shoulders sagged as he turned to Serena. "Call your police friends and tell them to get this scum out of here."
Her restrained sigh was echoed by Junot. "Don't think you're getting off lightly," she warned. "If it turns out you had anything to do with the Remy murders, you'll live to regret it."
"I swear I didn't."
She retrieved her cell phone from the desk and punched in Matt's number. He was going to love being disturbed in the middle of the night, but this was in a good cause.
While she spoke, Garth turned to Junot. "If you had found the package, how did the Hand plan to take delivery?"
Junot's anxious gaze flicked to Serena and back to Garth, fixing on the knife at his belt. Without taking his eyes off it, he mumbled, "I was to take it to the fishing port and leave it under pier nine, where it would be picked up by a yacht that sounded like some place on Nuee."
"Cradle Rock?"
"That's it. The skipper must be a friend of the Hand's because he sometimes delivers instructions for our meetings."
"Could the skipper himself be the Hand?"
"I don't think so. He has an accent. The man on the phone sounded like he comes from Solano. When he called me, his voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't place the reason."
"I suggest you keep trying," Serena said, finished with her call. "Matt is on his way. He'll arrange for you to be taken to a safe house." To Garth she said, "He also told me due to a situation at home, the U.S. president has moved his visit up by three days. He'll be here in less than a week."
Chapter 16
When Matt Hayes arrived he looked as rumpled and irritable as she'd expected. With him was a thin, freckled, redheaded officer who looked as if he was fresh out of the academy. Serena waited until the young officer had escorted Junot out to the police car, then she filled Matt in on what Garth had dubbed Operation Monarch.
Matt raked a hand through his already-spiky hair. "Quite a situation. I'm glad you finally told me."
"This is need-to-know information. You need to know. Besides, you've earned the right after all you've done to help."
"Not to mention getting up at dawn to take care of David Junot." Matt glanced at Garth, who was working at the computer. "Can he really be Prince Lorne's older brother?"
She steered Matt into the kitchen, out of earshot of Garth. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."
He didn't like this, she saw when he frowned. "I hope you're not planning anything reckless or illegal."
She feigned innocence. "Who, me?"
"Yes you, who thinks laws are flexible and her body is bulletproof."
She pulled a face. "I've never broken a law in my life. Bent a few when lives were at stake, but never broken any." She didn't touch the bulletproof part.
Matt nodded. "That's what I'm talking about. If the Hand shows up in Solano, I want you to promise me you'll let the law handle him."
"What can you charge him with? David Junot is the only one with any connection to him, and he never saw him face-to-face."
His expression said he noticed she hadn't given any promises. "What makes you think you can do better?"
"Because I have to."
Matt had known her for a long time, through good times and bad. He saw now what she wasn't saying and lowered his voice. "You really care about Garth, don't you?"
She answered in the same low tone, "What does that have to do with anything?"
Her brittle denial told him more than she wanted it to. "Worse than I thought, this time it's love."
She felt her face heating and said grimly, "Refer to my previous response."
Matt held up his hands. "Okay, as long as Melanie and I get an invitation to the wedding. And you don't let your feelings cloud your professional judgment."
"I won't," she said, answering only the part that suited her. If she loved Garth, and she wasn't sure that the intimacy between them was the same as love, it was nobody's business but hers.
"I have another question," Matt said, letting her off the hook. "With Junot in protective custody and the evidence of Garth's possible heritage safely at the castle, what can Carramer First do to damage the kingdom's relations with the U.S.?"
Garth appeared in the doorway in time to catch the question. "I was wondering the same thing."
How much of the exchange between her and Matt had Garth heard? Had any of her answers incriminated her? She didn't think so. Damn Matt for mentioning weddings. She was sure they weren't on Garth's agenda right now, if ever. Nor on hers, right? The heated look he gave her only added to her confusion.
Garth went to the coffeemaker and flicked it on. Matt met his raised-eyebrow query with a shudder. "I'd still like to sleep through what's left of the night."
"Serena?" At her nod, Garth passed her a mug, then poured one for himself. "The Carramer First members I knew wouldn't resort to murder just to disrupt a presidential visit."
"They kidnapped the Pascales to get information. And they probably also killed your parents. That's a lot more than disruption," Matt said.
She took a sip of coffee, wincing at its strength. "Maybe disruption is only the beginning."
Garth nodded. "If the Hand wants to keep America out of this region, the more mayhem he creates, the better."
Matt looked thoughtful. "It sounds as if you don't expect this to stop once your claim to the throne is settled."
"Not if the Hand intended it as a diversion," Garth said.
She tightened her grip on the mug. "Then he would need something bigger to convince the Americans to stay out."
Garth read her thoughts. "Such as an assassination attempt on the president's life."
Matt paled visibly. "Security's as tight as my people and yours can make it."
"Nobody saw anything the day my parents' boat was sunk," Garth reminded them. "Last night while Serena was going through the files, I e-mailed Brett Curtin details of the toy submarine we found near the wreck. According to him the delivery method is used by the marines in training simulations. We'll have to get the C4 analyzed for chemical identifiers, but I'll bet it turns out to be military issue as well. We're dealing with someone who can stay a step ahead of any security measures."
Someone with training as specialized as Garth's, she interpreted. "So the Hand not only has a military background, but the skills to try out the simulation in real life."
Matt nodded agreement. "As soon as we've stowed David Junot away, I'll sift through the Carramer First files for disenchanted marines with republican tendencies and explosives know-how."
Garth's look reminded her that the description could also fit him. Except that she didn't believe he had murdered his parents. He hadn't always seen eye-to-eye with them, but he wasn't a cold-blooded killer.
She hoped what was between them wasn't blinding her to possibilities, and she saw him recognize that, too. Heat rushed through her. In all her years with the police, she'd never understood how any woman could love a convicted killer, although she'd encountered some who did, even one who'd married a prisoner serving time.
Now Serena knew the truth. Feelings didn't change to fit social demands. No matter who or what Garth turned out to be, she would still feel the magnetic pull of attraction piercing her to her core. Her whole being sang with it. She wanted this over so they could go up to his grandfather's amazing bed in the lighthouse room and not come down until they were both quivering wrecks.
She chased the thought away with difficulty. "While you're working from your end, we'll keep trying to identify the
Hand from ours," she told Matt.
Matt shook his head. "We agreed this is a job for the police."
"You agreed," she denied. "It's still my area of responsibility."
"And mine," Garth added savagely. "When the Hand started meddling in my life, he made it personal."
She had no counter to that and didn't blame him for wanting to get to the Hand before the law did. But she couldn't allow it. "The Hand won't want to miss seeing his scheme bear fruit. He's probably on his way to Solano now. As soon as we pin down his whereabouts, we'll let your people take over, Matt."
Her proposal was as popular with Garth as an attack of the bends, she saw. Braced for an argument, she saw him set his jaw instead. She was going to have to keep him on a tight leash if their quarry was to be brought to trial, she decided, wondering how she was going to manage that feat.
Matt slanted a doubtful look at them both. "I've a good mind to assign a couple of my men to you to make sure you stick by that."
She smiled sweetly at him. "But you won't."
"Unfortunately, I don't have anyone to spare. They're all occupied with the presidential visit. I want you to check in with me every two hours from now until you call for backup. Understood?"
"Understood," she said. Garth said nothing.
After Matt and his partner left with David Junot, Serena found it impossible to get back to sleep, mainly because Garth thought of more inventive ways for them to spend the time in bed. She had never known a lover like him, and the aftermath left her sated but somehow energized.
"We really should make some plans," she said, barely able to breathe because of what Garth was doing to her.
He lifted his head, his eyes flashing. "I couldn't agree more. How does that feel?"
She squirmed, sighed, arched her back in ecstasy. "You're amazing. And a worry, too. How do you know all this stuff? On second thought, don't answer that."
He grinned. "My team used to say that DAREs stood for Devilishly Adventurous Resourceful Sex."
"I believe it."
Rolling him over she managed to plant herself on top of him. Not smart, she learned when he lifted her so he was inside her again. He moved boldly beneath her until all her internal fuses blew at once. Her last coherent thought was that until the Hand found out about Junot's arrest, he wasn't likely to try anything new.
* * *
Serena eyed the rusting fourteen-foot aluminum runabout dubiously. "Are you sure this thing's seaworthy?" Unlike Brett's boat, the rust on this one was real. She'd checked after Garth arranged to borrow it from Alice, who kept it tied up alongside her kiosk.
He cast off from the jetty and joined her onboard. "The flimsy look will add weight to your story."
As the boat rocked, she grabbed the railing. "It won't help me if I drown on the way."
When they finally got around to making plans early that morning, they had agreed the Cradle Rock was their only link with the Hand. They knew the yacht would be in the vicinity of the fishing port, waiting for David Junot to deliver the package. "So we find them first," Garth had said.
It took him three tries to start the aging outboard motor. "From the sound of that, I won't have to pretend to break down," she said.
"So much the better."
"Easy for you to say. You like being up to your neck in water."
He steered expertly between the commercial fishing vessels where the morning's catch was being cleaned. Seagulls wheeled noisily overhead, and the sun was already hot, making her appreciate the shelter provided by the boat's cuddy cabin.
The yellow bikini she'd purchased that morning felt uncomfortably revealing, although Garth had seen much, much more of her during the long night. Somehow the scraps of polka-dot fabric made her feel more exposed, not less.
She recognized the problem. Matt was right, she was more involved with Garth than she wanted to be. Not only because they made sublime love together, but because he was everything she had ever dreamed of in a man. Strong, intelligent, resourceful and caring enough to prepare a meal and bring it to her in bed.
He'd be horrified if he knew how close she was to falling in love with him. The uncertainty about his background had only fueled his reluctance to get involved. And maybe he was right. As long as he preferred being footloose and unencumbered, and she wanted a stable future, what hope was there for them?
She wasn't going to settle it now, she told herself. They had a job to do. Although solving the mystery of his past might be her best chance of settling it at all.
"Yacht at ten o'clock," Garth said, lowering the binoculars.
She peered over the top of the cuddy cabin, locating a distant vessel, a yacht all right, although the sails were furled. "Is it the Cradle Rock?"
He checked through the binoculars, "The configuration looks right. Yes, it's her."
Her heart picked up speed. "Time for us to change places."
He moved toward the cuddy cabin while she came cautiously forward and replaced him at the tiller. As they passed, he clasped her shoulders and lowered his mouth to hers in a hard, possessive kiss.
"For luck," he said before she could gather enough breath to react.
The impact punched through her. The desire in his eyes burned as hot as the sun overhead. Despite her apprehension at being miles out to sea in a rusty boat, at that moment she wouldn't exchange it for a luxury liner as long as she could be this close to him. He even made her forget the hazards lurking in the depths underneath them.
He made her forget everything.
As perhaps he'd intended, the kiss distracted her as she inexpertly steered for the yacht. Then, apparently alone on the runabout, she waited until she could read the name on the yacht's side before turning the outboard motor on and off several times to simulate a breakdown, as Garth had shown her.
There was a shout of annoyance as she deliberately rammed the port side of the yacht. A man leaned over the side, gesturing furiously, and she recognized the hulking islander they'd dubbed Tiny Tim. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. He hadn't seen her the last time, and his anger was aimed at the damage she'd done to the yacht, she guessed.
She puffed out her chest, helped by the padding on the barely there bra, and adopted her best "maiden in distress" expression. "I couldn't stop. My motor thingy is acting up. Can you help me?"
"What are you doing out in a boat if you can't handle it?"
"I was tied up at the dock at Solano and dozed off. My mooring rope must have come undone and I woke up way out here. Every time I get the motor started it cuts out on me."
She stood up, balancing haphazardly for effect, and saw Garth wince as she almost toppled into the sea. Tiny Tim was convinced. "Throw me the rope and I'll take you in tow back to the dock."
"Can I please come aboard? I feel so alone out here."
The man withdrew his head. Moments later he returned and tossed a rope ladder over the side. "Try not to fall in."
She was sufficiently inept at scaling the ladder to give Garth heart failure. He wished he knew if she was acting. He breathed a sigh of relief as the seaman helped her aboard, although the glimpse he caught of the man's hand splayed across her back was enough to make Garth feel murderous.
Later for that, he thought, but wondered at the strength of the feeling. He had never felt this way about a woman before, and he knew it had little to do with the breathtaking sex they had enjoyed for most of the night. Not that he objected to great sex, but instinctively he sensed that she meant a lot more to him than a warm body in his bed.
When he'd brought their supper and found her sleeping, something had cracked open inside him, some well of tenderness he hadn't known he could feel. He didn't like feeling it now. He was used to being in control. She made him feel as if he was sinking fast with no land in sight.
With nothing to do except lie low until she managed to lure the crew to starboard so he could sneak aboard, he was forced to face the unthinkable—he was falling in love with her. Falling or had fallen? N
ow was the wrong time to ask the question, but it persisted, almost paralyzing him until he reminded himself that she didn't know how he felt. And she wouldn't if he had anything to do with it. His life was complicated enough without love.
What was taking so long? The plan was to distract the crew while Garth sneaked aboard and searched the yacht. He heard her peal of laughter, the breathy sound intended to reinforce her pose of a ditzy female lost at sea, but it grabbed at his gut. She was literally laughing in the face of danger. But he couldn't deny her assertion that she had to be the one to try this. He would have been recognized instantly. Besides, she looked a hell of a lot more fetching in a yellow polka-dot bikini.
He schooled himself to patience.
* * *
The sailor's hand on Serena's back felt obscenely warm, although he had almost wrenched her arm out of its socket dragging her aboard. She pasted a toothy smile on her face. "Thanks. I was scared to death out there."
The man took his time releasing her. "Always happy to help a lady."
She restrained a shudder. "This is some ship, mister."
"Nick," he said. "And it's a boat. Yachts are called boats."
She tried to look impressed, and ran a hand over his hairy forearm. "You must be rich to own a boat like this, Nick."
The man grew six inches taller and patted her hand. "Are you vacationing in Solano?"
"Call me Tina," she said, returning the favor. "I'm traveling with my girlfriend, Suzy. We're both nurses. She was supposed to meet me at the dock, but she was late and I dozed off."
"Your runabout doesn't look too seaworthy. Maybe you and Suzy should come cruising with me instead."
She widened her eyes and fluttered her lashes. "Can we? That'd be cool."
Nick's tongue slid over his lips in obvious anticipation. "I have to drop some people off at the dock first, then we can go out for a couple of hours, just the three of us. Do you like champagne?"
"My favorite. Suzy's, too. Only she…" She hesitated, then added in a low voice, "She overdoes it a bit, gets giggly and loses her inhibitions, you know?" Nick looked as if he did know and it was fine by him.
