Ginette stood on the coaming of the smaller vessel to clamber onto the higher hull. BJ scooped under her arms, lifting her easily onboard like a child. On deck, face-to-face with BJ’s gleaming smile and wickedly glinting eyes, Ginette stood bedazzled and breathless.
“Why, thank you,” she crooned, her fingers still resting on BJ’s biceps. “My, but you’re strong.”
Behind BJ’s back, Victoria childishly mimed a gag reflex at the overt flirting. Ginette chose to ignore her. Her quick proprietary scan of BJ’s body came to rest on the Glock hanging from her neck and her smile faltered.
“I like your bling,” she said dryly, withdrawing. All ideas of flirting quashed. There was obviously a situation going on here, and while Victoria seemed relaxed and not under any threat, Ginette decided she’d better wait and catch the score before investing any further in this interesting stranger.
“Please let me introduce myself. I’m Bar Jack, but call me BJ. And you are?”
Victoria hurriedly took over the introductions, dropping Ginette a few clues.
“BJ, let me introduce you to Ms. Ginette Felstrom. Ginette, BJ is working for FinCEN, too . She’s single-handedly apprehended our target, Victoria Gresham. Who is currently incarcerated below deck.”
Ginette drank in these details without batting an eyelash.
Inwardly, her mind was spinning. What the fuck? Why, just for once, can’t I appear at a cabin, or on a small boat, collect my money, and leave? Why do Mickey and Victoria have to turn everything into a freaking circus act?
Victoria continued seamlessly. “Ginette is Ms. Gresham’s ex-girlfriend and is assisting FinCEN with its inquiries. This might be a good opportunity for a formal identity confirmation of the woman held below. Ginette, would you like to meet Victoria?” Oooh, you betcha! Ginette gracefully nodded acquiescence.
She had no idea what was going on, but as with everything Victoria did, it seemed Ginette was being dragged along for the ride. Which was only fair, she supposed, considering she’d almost fried her. But she had apologized. Why couldn’t Victoria just wrap up this deal, get Ginette back her money, and say adieu?
Why was there always a walk-on role for poor Ginette to ad-lib through?
“Can you tell me exactly what happened, Officer Jack?” Ginette decided to go fishing for herself.
“BJ will do. I’m no officer. We’ve been monitoring Ms. Gresham for some time now, after an out-of-the-blue purchase of a holiday resort.” BJ shrugged. “We think she planned to fake her death in a cabin fire, and then start up fresh in the Caymans. I suppose she thought she could hide down here and put all her tax-free money into legit businesses.”
“My, what an absolute bitch.”
Victoria looked a little startled at the vehemence in Ginette’s voice.
“Spending other people’s money like that. Victoria always was born slippy.” Ginette continued, warming to her theme.
Tucking her arm into the crook of BJ’s, she moved toward the cabin hatch.
“She was never good to me, you know.” She leaned into the dark dreads conspiratorially. “Very secretive and bossy. And then I was approached by this nice officer…um?” She waved casually in Victoria’s direction.
“Rapowski. Officer Rapowski.” Victoria sourly filled in the last remaining details for her.
“Rapowski,” Ginette repeated. “I’m hopeless with East European names.” She giggled up at BJ, her arm now wrapped around a beefy bicep. “When Officer Rapowski here approached me, I could do nothing but offer assistance. After all, I was a victim, too. I had been left alone and penniless, to struggle. No alimony, no nest egg, nothing.” She stared up into BJ’s bemused eyes. “She lost all my savings, you know. In a very bad deal.” She delighted in Victoria’s bristling at her twist on things.
This was the only bit of power Ginette had in this whole debacle.
She might as well play it to the max.
“Wow. Now that’s bad,” BJ murmured in polite sympathy.
“Here, let me help.” She gallantly took Ginette’s hand as they descended into the cabin where Mickey sat bound and gagged.
❖
Victoria touched Ginette’s forearm and looked her in the eye.
Here was their easy way out. A simple case of mistaken identity on BJ’s part, and all three walked free to get on with the real business of the day—recouping Victoria’s money. They could be on that little black powerboat and bouncing all the way back to the hotel in a few minutes if Ginette worked it right. She knew Ginette had the smarts to see it, too. Okay, so they were forcing BJ’s hand. She could either keep playing it straight and surrender up Mickey, or she could turn that gun on them. But they had to force BJ to play her hand before whomever she waited for arrived.
As she gazed squarely at Ginette, her mind screamed, Mickey is the money pot. Let’s grab her, load her onto the speedboat, and get the hell out of here. But she calmly said, “Ms. Felstrom, can you confirm the identity of this individual as Victoria Gresham?” Come on, G, just say nope, sorry, wrong gal. Never seen her before in my life.
Ginette looked at Mickey. She broke free from BJ’s side and strode over. Towering over Mickey, she spat out, “You bitch.” Before delivering a stinging slap to Mickey’s cheek.
Mickey sat stunned. BJ looked on in consternation and a tiny bit of amusement.
“I can see you two really did not part on good terms.” BJ chuckled.
Victoria blinked in total shock. What the hell was Ginette doing? Didn’t she get it? What a wasted opportunity. Damn madwoman would rather bitch slap Mickey than get them out of there. Shit, shit, shit! Nevertheless, she grudgingly admired Ginette’s take on the spurned ex role.
Mickey’s eyes were tearing up, and Victoria shifted uncomfortably, unsure where Ginette’s vengeance trail was going to lead them next.
“Honestly, Victoria,” Ginette continued with gleeful malice as she stood proudly over her bound victim. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out about your hick girlfriend and your dirty little sex sessions out in the backwoods?”
Victoria and Mickey shot each other stunned looks. Ginette was in full payback mode—for everything.
“I’ve had it up to here with the two of you, and your loads of cash, and your great sex!” Ginette landed a second slap to Mickey’s other cheek. Victoria felt her face flame redder than Mickey’s.
“Ahem.” Victoria quickly intervened before poor Mickey received another slap for her sins. “All this has no relevance to the case in hand. I think you should stop hitting the accused, Ms. Felstrom.” She glared sternly at Ginette, who sighed far too theatrically.
“If I must.” She turned once more to a highly bemused BJ, with a half-smile of apology. “I guess I just wanted to get it all off my chest. It’s been so painful for me.” BJ extended a hand to escort Ginette back on deck.
“It’s not that I’m judgmental. Lord knows, my heart is broken. But Victoria can be such a slut…” Ginette’s voice drifted away, along with BJ’s comforting murmurs, leaving Mickey and Victoria alone.
With a sigh, Victoria untied the gag and cupped cool hands over Mickey’s flaming cheeks.
“Oh God, I had no idea she was going to do that,” she said.
“What’s her freaking problem?” Mickey sniffled, anger and affront shone in her moist eyes. “Who did she actually think she was slapping? I got confused.”
Victoria shrugged. “You, me. Both of us. Who knows with Ginette? Maybe she holds some genuine pique that I had sex with you.”
“So what? You were exes! She had caused your kidnapping. Why is she even here? Don’t tell me you’ve got back together.” Mickey seemed very upset at this possibility, and it showed in her raised voice. Victoria suppressed a smile as she recognized the squeak that marked Mickey’s stressed state of mind. Being around Mickey blindfolded for so long had made Victoria very sensitive to her emotional signals.
“Our relationship is well and truly over,” she said. “But Ginette is invested in t
his whole mess. In fact, she helped track you to Cayman Brac, and that’s why she’s here. As for having a go at you…well, let’s see. You double-crossed her, ran away with all her money, and it’s hard when a relationship ends and the other person moves on quickly. I guess she wanted to hit back at you while she had the chance. And pop a few shots off at me.” Victoria flushed slightly as she recalled Ginette’s pops. They were a little close to the mark. “She wanted to punish us both, I suppose.”
“Both? I didn’t see you get bitch slapped.”
“Hey. Words hurt, too, you know.”
“Well, tell her there are other ways to get closure besides beating up on me,” Mickey grumbled on, but seemed more relaxed now that she knew Ginette and Victoria were definitely not an item, and that Victoria had moved on. “You’re the one she’s really angry with. Why’d I have to get slapped?”
“Again, as Mickey Rapowski you double-crossed her. And now as Victoria Gresham, you’re her pain-in-the-ass ex-girlfriend. You’re the scapegoat for her current troubles.” Victoria shrugged.
“Besides, knowing Ginette, I imagine it was plain good fun.”
“Can you get her to take the cuffs off?” Mickey nodded up top to where BJ’s mellow voice still murmured along with Ginette’s soft croon.
“BJ,” Victoria called up the stairway. “Throw me the cuff keys. I want to release her, tidy up her face a little.” BJ appeared at the hatchway and glanced down at an un-gagged Mickey, eyes still teared up, cheeks aflame from the slapping. She tossed a small key to Victoria.
“Food’s ready. Bring her up when you’re done. But remind her I’m still armed and she’s still dangerous.”
“Let’s get you up and out of these.” Victoria unlocked the cuffs.
Mickey rotated her cramped shoulders. “So what’s next in your great scheme of things? How’re we gonna get out of this?”
“Well, Ginette might be just the distraction we need. She’s certainly caught BJ’s eye.” Victoria soothed the flamed cheeks and sweaty brow with a damp towel. “Maybe it can work to our advantage later. I’ll think about it more after supper. You know I can’t work on an empty stomach.” As she cooled the flushed face before her, it took all her willpower not to drop a little mommy kiss on the top of the dark blond head. “There. Good as new. Let’s say we go eat and see what else we can find out about our mysterious host.”
Chapter Twelve
They all sat somberly at the cockpit table as food was politely passed around.
Sheesh! Mount Rushmore is more animated, Mickey thought dryly to herself, looking at the masked expressions. Everyone had her own secrets to keep, and agenda to slyly impose.
“So, how long were you two together?” BJ swigged her rum, obviously trying to open up a conversation, but managing to scratch open old wounds instead.
“Just over two years.”
“Just under two years.”
“Forever,” Ginette, Victoria and Mickey managed to chorus.
Then they sat and glared at each other for the faux pas. BJ looked from one to the other with narrow-eyed suspicion.
“I’m just recalling what Ginette told me earlier,” Victoria mumbled into her second cocktail.
“Like I said, just over two years,” Ginette snipped icily, glaring at Mickey and Victoria both.
“Felt like forever…” Mickey muttered back, swigging her own rum. “Like being on Death Row.” If she had to play Victoria Gresham, then she was damn well going to have some fun with her face-slapping bitch of an ex. “Johnny Cash could have written a platinum hit about it.”
A few rums had given her a foolhardy rush of Dutch courage.
Ginette’s smoky gray eyes burned holes through her, but damned if Mickey wasn’t made of asbestos tonight.
“Only if he sung about low-down, dirty, double-crossing cheats,” Ginette bit back. “Oh wait, you are and he did.” BJ and Victoria both shifted uncomfortably at the storm clouds of another domestic squabble on the horizon.
“Anything in his repertoire about lesbian bed death?” Mickey raised an eyebrow eloquently. Victoria’s face showed total embarrassment, while BJ took a sudden intense interest in the distant skyline.
“I hope you burn in hell,” Ginette spat.
“I goddamn nearly did,” Mickey blazed back, referring to Ginette’s thoughtless pyrotechnics and Victoria’s lucky escape.
“You got what you wanted,” Ginette said. “And left behind everything you didn’t.” Her eyes flicked over to a scarlet Victoria.
Mickey’s bravado fizzled out into silence.
It was a low blow, but Mickey had hit the nail on the head with the lesbian bed death dig, and it angered Ginette. So she hit back as hard and as low as she could, at the failings in Mickey’s own love life. You chose the money, not the girl, so don’t preach to me, you sanctimonious bitch. You hurt Victoria just as much as I did.
Silence again descended on the small group now that the conflagration seemed to have petered out.
Ginette managed to look peeved and smug simultaneously, and Mickey just glowered. Ginette’s comments had stung. The truth was she had made a decision; she’d stuck to her original plan and grabbed the money. Chosen the cash over the unexpected emotional connection with Victoria. Mickey knew she had cheated herself, and she had lived with regret ever since. Now the sudden reappearance of the little blond pit bull had churned up all these feelings of doubt and discontentment again. Sure, she had the money and the lifestyle she had always craved, the ultimate irony being it wasn’t enough. It felt worthless. Her loot turned into tinsel, cursed by her desire for the very woman she’d stolen it from. Mickey knew that like a fool she had run away with the wrong prize.
Victoria too sat lost in her thoughts, or more accurately her third strong drink. Ginette’s accusations had stirred up an anger she had worked so hard to suppress. For the past several weeks, she had put all her energy into tracking Mickey’s rapidly cooling trail. At the last minute, her resources had pulled out the connection to the Cayman Brac resort and led her all the way down here. Now that she had her target in her sights, Victoria felt all her old bitterness bubble to the surface.
Her primary motive for hunting down Mickey was to get her money back. But now that she was here, had met her nemesis face-to-face, she was unprepared for the intensity of the hurt she felt. Obviously, she was angry at being kidnapped and the loss of her illicit pension funds. But she was also confused that Mickey had risked life and limb to save her from the burning cabin, only to abandon her again. Victoria was alive today only because of this woman’s bravery. Confusion twisted like a knot in her stomach.
Distress flooded into her, threatening to spill over as what? Anger, hurt, melancholy, or just plain old brokenheartedness?
There was no doubt that on some level Mickey was as much a hero as she was a scoundrel. But Victoria could have sworn, albeit for one small moment, that there had been some other connection between them. And here, once more in her presence, she felt its sway again.
The sex had been explosive. She had never opened up to someone like that in her entire life. And yes, she could blame it on the kink, on the ties and blindfolds, and the wonderful freedom to just surrender herself to the moment. But never before had she felt so excited, and yet so safe and cared for. And later in the study when they’d kissed? Surely, there had been something more there? Surely, she had not imagined it?
Now her tall rescuer, lover, thief was sitting beside her, so close they could brush arms, raise goose bumps, create static sparks along each other’s skin. In a rush of heightened physical response, and clouded, confused thoughts, she felt uncertainty and anger surge through her again. She had been used. Used, betrayed, and abandoned. Mickey had taken everything from her—her money, her passion, her love. It had never been anything special to Mickey, just a way to pass the time in a pokey backwoods cabin.
Was Victoria’s life so empty of meaningful emotion that she could surrender her heart so easily to someone who had pr
oven to be the quintessential stranger? She brooded into the bottom of her glass, her own self-disgust fueling her anger.
The ultimate irony for Victoria was that for all intents and purposes, she was now playing the part of Mickey Rapowski.
She was the embodiment of her own tormentor.
“Sometimes I just disgust myself,” she said to no one in particular. All eyes turned to her.
“I’m such a callous womanizer,” she continued bitterly, her voice haggard. Mickey choked on her drink.
BJ watched with concerned curiosity. Never before had she met such a pack of weirdoes as these three. Thank God the one she was interested in seemed the sanest out of the lot.
Ginette raised an eyebrow and waited. Victoria had always been a lousy, introspective drunk. This should be interesting.
“Really, Officer Rapowski? A callous womanizer. How so?” Ginette willingly played devil’s advocate to Victoria’s alcohol-fueled ramble.
“Oh, I use and abuse. Cut and run,” Victoria mumbled bitterly against the rim of her glass.
“Would you say you were emotionally stunted or just a selfish coward?” Ginette offered helpfully.
“Mmm…not stunted. Selfish. Yes. Cowardly and selfish.”
“And stupid, don’t forget stupid, Michaela.” Ginette patted Victoria’s arm reassuringly. “Only a cowardly, selfish, dumb-ass would run away from a beautiful, successful, talented woman. After sleeping with her, of course.”
“Hey,” Mickey hastily intervened. “Maybe…maybe she needed time to think things over. Maybe she never believed she was good enough for a beautiful, successful, talented woman. Ever thought of that?” She raised her eyebrows hopefully as she desperately tried to put her own spin on things. “I mean, commitment’s a two-way street.”
“Rapowski’s heart’s on the fast lane to hell,” Ginette shot back directly at Mickey. “The officer is obviously a commitment phobe. That’s why she can callously fuck over others and simply walk away.” Ginette tapped her temple. “Sick in the head but good in bed. And the best women fall for it every time.”
Green-Eyed Monster Page 11
