“Somehow, I think your name will be featured prominently once Robert McIntyre sets up the display.” A deep sigh from Ngaire punctuated his comment, but they were back on the road across the hills so all he could afford was a swift glance.
“I wish I could see it someday. Although, displaying it in a museum started some of my problems.” In contrast to her earlier upbeat mood she sounded soulful.
“Is now a good time to explain? I’d like to know what led you to bring the mere back.”
Her seat squeaked as she shifted position. Another sidelong glance showed her sitting against the door, a measured look in her eyes as if his reaction mattered. “I’ll talk, you keep your eyes on the road,” she said, fidgeting some more in her seat.
Shadows from the past filled the car as she began speaking. “My grandmother took Te Ruahiki to the States back in 1946. The last of her family, she was a direct descendant of Te Ruahiki.”
“The Maori warrior we saw?” He kept his eyes on the road, jaw clenched, on the chance he was making an ass of himself.
“Hmm, I wondered which of us would break first. Congratulations, it takes guts to admit to a spooky visitation.”
A wry snort exploded from his lips. “It certainly wasn’t one of your honest-to-God, everyday experiences. It really threw me when no one else seemed to notice. I’ve heard tales, no, legends of spirits becoming one with their greenstone meres, especially where warriors died in battle, but I never heard of one actually turning up in person.”
“What if Te Ruahiki had a reason for showing himself? What if he wants you to believe my family’s story?”
Kel didn’t think believing her story would be too big a leap of faith since he’d already believed she was a drug courier on less evidence. Gordie had sure got that wrong. Or maybe they’d meant to send him on a wild-goose chase. No matter what, he was going to have to explain his part of the story sometime soon.
“And your point is?”
“Well, exactly a week after she turned thirty, my grandmother was hit by a runaway truck and killed. Lucky for me, she managed to push Mom’s stroller out of the way, so she was safe, but it left Pops, my grandfather, to bring her up on his own. My mom was pretty young when she married. My dad was a musician and he OD’d on heroin when I was still a baby so I never really got to know him. Nothing really unusual in that, it was a sign of the times, San Francisco, musicians, drugs, but it served as a warning for me to have nothing to do with anything that could take over my life so completely.”
As they crested the hill, he stole another glance. The car faced west into a red lowering sun, and the elongated shadows of the trees played in moving pictures across her features, emphasizing that she felt her father’s loss deeper than her flip words conveyed. He knew personally the effects a father’s death could have on a kid’s soul. It could shape their lives in impossible ways that were hard to undo.
“It wasn’t always easy for Pops, he’d had two of us to bring up on a carpenter’s wage. Not that we lived in Chinatown because of the lack of money. Pops always said that as family we didn’t look as out of place there as we would in the suburbs.” She paused, but it didn’t seem to be for effect, just that it was hard to go on. “My mom died in a horrific motorway pile-up. She was just one of many caught out by thick fog, but it happened exactly one week after she turned thirty.”
“Hell, I’m starting to see a pattern here.” His mind raced ahead, chased by fear, wondering exactly how old Ngaire was.
“So did we. It struck us even harder to realize we’d had a warning, but without my grandmother to explain it all, we’d been too ignorant of the myths surrounding the greenstone mere to realize that more than a change in the weather had turned the dark green splotches on the jade to a rusty-red.”
“You mean bloodred? That’s bizarre.” Her story was getting wilder by the minute, like something they told in a New Age shop. But he wouldn’t have believed the tale before today’s spooky happenings. And he still mightn’t tomorrow.
“After that, Pops spent some time researching the subject. It took a while, but we came to the conclusion there was a tapu, a curse, on Te Ruahiki. Guess the old guy was pretty unhappy about being taken so far from home.” Her attempt at humor didn’t fool him for a second.
“I can’t say I was really a true believer until I reached New Zealand and started to feel the jade resonate. Sheesh, talk about uncanny. Then there was the gannet incident. Well, you were there. Did you know the mere was inside my day pack when it caught on that shrub? If that bird hadn’t tried to land…”
The road in front disappeared as he re-created the scene in his mind’s eye. Gannets couldn’t land on trees. Water, yes, but not trees. And with the memory came piercing clarity. “So when you said your life might as well be over if you lost the pack, you were talking of the mere.”
“What’s not to understand? I told you as much this morning.”
The switchback road was behind them and the road ahead a straight line into the distance, with hills rising on Ngaire’s side and a burgundy-dark sea on his. Daylight was fading fast. Too fast. He wanted to see her face while he straightened out the delusion he’d been working under. Pulling to the side of the road, he clicked the lights on full. They’d had enough close escapes for one day to take a chance on the car being visible to other drivers. “Tell me, when is your thirtieth birthday?”
“Four weeks from today. Christmas Eve.”
He didn’t need to ask, yet couldn’t hold back the question, any more than he could the cold, sick feeling invading the pit of his stomach. “So that’s just over five weeks…?”
“Until I know if I’ve broken the curse.”
He couldn’t take his eyes from her face. His beautiful doll had eyes he wanted to drown in and a mix of features that shouldn’t fit, yet made her absolutely perfect for him.
Five weeks, it wasn’t much to build his hope on. Hope that was little more than a bud, and could yet be dead before it had a chance to flower. He took a deep breath and sucked up emotion he hadn’t felt since his father died. He’d loved his father. That’s why his betrayal had hurt so much. And he loved Ngaire. It was more than simple grief playing havoc with the human instinct for survival. He’d fallen for her at first glance.
What she’d said about her grandparents, how they’d recognized each other. Well, one look and he’d known Ngaire for his soul mate, or whatever name they were giving it these days.
But she still hadn’t explained everything. “Okay, tell me where this Savage guy comes into the picture. Did he sponsor the trip you won?”
When she touched his face, he knew he hadn’t fooled her for a second. She’d seen his heart laid bare. “The trip came later.” Quietly, she continued, yet her voice filled every part of him with a longing to take her in his arms. To take her right there and then, in that tiny car, on a road from Nowhere, New Zealand.
“Pops had a contract to build display stands at a museum where Paul Savage is patron. A showing of Pacific Rim artifacts. One day Pops mentioned the mere we had at home to the curator. It intrigued him, so he asked if the museum could borrow it as part of the display. After some research, the curator realized what a find the mere was, also how valuable. He offered to buy it for the museum, but Pops was adamant, they could only borrow it. I went to see it and there he was, Te Ruahiki, displayed in a custom-built glass case, taking pride of place.”
“Had your grandfather told the curator of the curse?”
“No, but he had told him about the color changes in the jade. Trouble was, when it actually happened in the museum, right there for everyone to see, the curator didn’t think to inform Pops. Instead, he called in the media. I mean…who could resist that kind of publicity?” She shrugged, as if the movement would shake off the sequence of emotions crossing her face.
“The publicity was even bigger when a few days later, Pops fell from scaffolding and broke his neck.” Her face began to crumple before he could pull her close. The pain of t
he shift stick stabbing into his gut meant nothing compared to holding her in his arms. Right where she belonged.
Ngaire sobbed heartbrokenly against his neck until he was as damp from tears as her. “I can’t stop thinking if only he’d called us instead, maybe we could have kept Pops safe.”
She sniffed, hands pushing away, but he refused to release her. Grabbing his handkerchief, he mopped her tears. “I may be coming from left field here, but is the warning of impending death Savage’s reason for wanting the mere?”
“He didn’t say so, but there was an avaricious gleam in his eye when he looked at Te Ruahiki that had nothing to do with it being a collector’s piece. I checked him out after he asked to meet me at the museum. They say for all his money and old family name, he’s no better than he should be. He’s been linked to the Mafia. And after what I’ve gone through this week, it had to be true. Look at that jerk who tried running us off the road.”
“Yeah, our man Hohepa at the Marae has mob connections through family in the States.” For a few seconds he thought he might have given himself away and braced for the inevitable question. It came, but diluted by half sobs and the remnants of tears.
“Oh, I didn’t know, did William tell you about him?”
“Something like that. But I’m more interested in Savage.”
“He offered me a million dollars for Te Ruahiki. I thought I was so clever winning the trivia quiz, but now I’m not so sure. What if Te Ruahiki fixed it like he did with the gannet, to make sure he got home?”
“I know he’s good, but don’t put yourself down. You’re definitely clever enough to win without his assistance.”
Her breath seeped through his shirt as she murmured without looking up, “After today I wouldn’t put anything beyond the bounds of probability.”
Laughing, he kissed her brow, being the safest target, and said, “After more compliments, hmm? C’mon, fasten your seat belt, we have to get back to Christchurch. It’s getting late.”
“All right, but on the way there you can tell me what it was that you actually wanted me to give up this morning.”
Ngaire took it on the chin, priding herself on not losing it, there was always later. Hurtling along a dark highway at a hundred kilometers an hour, locked beside Kel in a little tin box, didn’t leave her many other options. And after all she’d gone through to ensure she had a life to look forward to, she wasn’t about to open the door and leap into the nearest ditch.
She would save her screams for the privacy of her shower. No way would Kel be sharing it with her. It didn’t sit well, knowing that he’d simply been using her, while she’d been falling in love. How could he? How could he have thought she would do something so horrendous as courier drugs? Didn’t he know by now she wasn’t that sort of person?
They dropped off the rental car and walked half the length of the block between there and the hotel, before her ire forced her to ask, “So, Kel, all that stuff about you wanting to be inside me, from the first moment you saw me in Tahiti, was a con.”
He thrust his hands deep in his pockets. From the look of the glower blackening his already dark features, it was probably to stop himself throttling her. “Damn. I should have known you would take it personally. I never lied to you…about that.”
“You just didn’t tell me the truth,” she prodded.
“What did you want me to do? This is my job for crissakes! This isn’t about me, or you, it’s about a million people who could die if kiss-and-tell gets onto the streets. I have to put my job first. Making love with you comes under the heading of forbidden pleasure, not work.”
She pushed through the front entrance of the hotel ahead of him. “Well, after that mouthful I should count myself lucky you said it so politely. Making love and not just screwing.”
She turned to catch the full emphasis of his reaction. He spoke quietly from a mouth that didn’t look soft enough for some of the uses he’d put it to last night. “Quit while you’re ahead, doll. I refuse to have a shouting match in the hotel lobby.”
“Good, we’ll take it upstairs to my room.”
He followed her into the elevator, a twitch of one black eyebrow the only indication that he’d heard.
How dare he be so calm when she was fighting mad. “And don’t think we’re going to end up in my bed,” she growled as she exited the elevator, disappointed that it sounded more spitting kitten than full-throated tigerish roar. The simplest things seemed to conspire against releasing the anger bubbling inside her. First her skirt restricted her stride to a girlish length, then the thick, luxurious carpet nullified the annoyed click of her heels.
“Wait.” Kel’s voice didn’t rise above the norm, but there was no disguising the urgency in the word.
Her temper took a back seat as she followed his lead and whispered, “What’s wrong this time?”
“Did you put that Do Not Disturb sign on the door when we left this morning?”
She glanced down at the black print below the handle and thought back. “No. I left it on the other side out to make sure the maid changed the sheets.” Her cheeks flushed, remembering the reason. She’d imagined her and Kel sliding into fresh, clean linen instead of the ones they’d managed to tangle in knots the night before. Some hope. “Maybe the maid changed it over.”
“I doubt it. She’d be trained to return it to the inside of the door. You keep watch, I’m going to organize backup, just in case.”
He used his cell phone and her eyebrows rose as she heard him call Schmidt by name. “He’ll be up in a few minutes.”
Taking the key card from her fingers, he warned, “Stay behind me.” At least he wasn’t banning her from the fray by telling her to be a good little girl. Seemed the day’s excitement still had a way to go.
Kel hoped there was someone in the room. He had a full head of anger and frustration steaming around his brain, from knowing Ngaire hadn’t taken his explanations lightly, and he fancied taking them out on someone who deserved a pounding.
Trouble was, he’d gotten out of the habit of placating women, if he’d ever known how.
Her eyes widened as he removed the Smith & Wesson from his boot and tucked it inside the waistband of his khaki pants. “In case of emergency,” he silently mouthed. A quick slide of the key card and he pushed down on the handle, letting it ease back real slow. No sense in giving more warning than necessary. Ngaire’s story had split conjecture wide open. Were they after the formula or the mere?
Was she a red herring or an unsuspecting courier?
Chances were that GDE wasn’t the only one following the wrong lead. With a finger to his lips, he hushed her, then pushed the door open, signaling Ngaire to stay behind him.
Well, he’d be damned. Jimmy Chen. Large as life and twice as ugly, caught red-handed as the door swung inward.
Too intent with Ngaire’s red case, Chen didn’t notice their presence at first. Concentrated stealth took Kel within a few yards before Chen looked up. “Find what you were looking for, Jimmy, or can I give you a hand with that case?”
The knife remained invisible until Chen twisted, shouting what Kel took to be a curse as he waved the lethal-looking blade in their direction. The spew of Chinese could have been turning the air blue for all Kel knew, until Ngaire translated, “Jimmy says he wants us to move over by the bed, out of his way.”
“What he wants and what he’s gonna get are two different things. You happen to understand the word no, Jimmy?”
Excitement rippling up her spine, Ngaire slipped from behind Kel. “We could take him. You go in from one side, I’ll take the other. The odds are with us.”
“Chancy. If he’s one of the gang we met in Queenstown, he already knows what you can do. Try to follow my lead and don’t give him an opening.” Ngaire blinked at that. Did he think she couldn’t take orders?
He took one step, two steps, with her a bare microsecond behind, as if they were Siamese twins. But the distance between them and Jimmy remained the same, as he backed
himself into the wall. Rat that he was, she should have seen at least a flicker of apprehension in his eyes at being cornered.
The reason for his confidence became eminently clear when Kel—her man—dropped like a stone at her feet. Cold fury iced her veins as she reacted, skirt forgotten. She turned, spinning on the ball of her foot, lashing out with a kick that jarred to a stop below the guy’s knee. The small black rubber club he’d used on Kel gave her a painful clip on the shoulder, but not as painful as her knee connecting with his groin. Her gratification was short-lived, as she watched him roll on the floor. Without Kel to watch her back, Jimmy crooked his arm around her neck from behind and squeezed tight.
Cold steel pricked the side of her throat. She’d trained for years to tackle just such a threat. It hadn’t erased her memories of a knife sliding up under her skin, the pain of it twisting.
You’re bigger than this. Go for it, girl.
She took a short, sharp breath, was halfway through the planned move with her elbow poised, when she caught Kel’s look of horror.
“Don’t!” He attempted to rise, reaching his knees as Jimmy landed a kick round about level with Kel’s kidneys. Pain etched the results on his face, but he refused to go down.
Jimmy shuffled backward around his disabled partner, his labored breath ringing a ragged knell in her ears. She’d let the guy she loved down. Damn Jimmy! He wasn’t much taller than her, she could have taken him. Now she was off balance, and though she’d heard her skirt rip, it still hampered her movements.
“You’ll never get away with this, Chen,” Kel shouted after them as he leant against the doorjamb, shaking his head as if to clear his vision. Then she saw him reach for the gun at his waist. She swallowed hard. Now she knew what it meant to be caught between a rock and a hard place. She loved Kel, trusted him, but had the blow to his head impaired his sight? If her room had been farther from the elevator they’d have had more time. But no matter what, she’d take a chance to give Kel a clear shot before Chen dragged her into it.
Heartbreak Hero Page 23
