“You have vacation time, I’m sure,” he said. “Take two weeks. That’s all I’m asking. Two weeks.”
“Daddy—”
“Gwendolyn Arnell, I swear to you that this trip is the last trip, that this time I will not fail.”
“I wish you all the luck in the world. I hope and pray you find your island and fulfill all your dreams, but … I can’t—”
“Don’t say you can’t. Say you’ll think about it.”
Hesitantly, she agreed. “All right. I’ll think about it.”
“You’ve become your mother’s daughter, haven’t you?” Emery told her, sadness in his voice. “Come to Puerto Nuevo and join me, and open yourself up to possibilities beyond your wildest imagination.”
“Where are you staying?” she asked, sighing in frustration. “Say if I were to join you, where would I meet you?”
“We’re staying at the Pasada El Paso. It’s in downtown Puerto Nuevo. Nothing fancy, but clean and safe. I’ll reserve a room for you and—”
“No, don’t do that. I’ll make reservations, if I decide to join you.”
“I love you, daughter.”
“And I love you, Daddy.”
The dial tone sounded. Apparently her father believed he had convinced her to join him. Damn him! How dare he assume she would rearrange her life to suit his needs? When had he ever done that for her? She couldn’t remember sharing one birthday with him and not one Christmas since her parents had divorced.
The crazy old fool had cashed in his life insurance policy to help fund this one final folly. What would he do when this adventure turned into yet another failure? And what about these new backers he mentioned? Who in his right mind would invest money in the hare-brained scheme of a seventy-year-old botany professor notorious for having become a laughingstock to his colleagues?
What if these backers were unscrupulous people intent upon taking advantage of her father? What if they intended to rob him of his insurance money and leave him to fend for himself?
Damn it! Why couldn’t her father be normal? And why, after the way he had neglected her all her life, did she feel obligated to look after him, to take care of him?
Because he’s your father, she reminded herself. And he has no one else.
Gwen spent the next hour getting airline tickets to Puerto Nuevo, making arrangements to take a week’s vacation and packing her suitcase. First thing in the morning, she’d be on a flight to Mexico City, then change planes and fly directly into Puerto Nuevo.
She had no intention of joining her father on yet another quest for glory, fame and riches, but she had to do what she could to protect him from himself and anyone who might harm him.
Will Pierce arrived at Dundee headquarters on the sixth floor of the downtown Atlanta office building at precisely seven-thirty in the morning. The office manager, Daisy Holbrook, had telephoned him an hour ago while he was drinking his first cup of coffee.
“Sawyer wants you in his office immediately,” Daisy had said. “He has two new cases and he wants to get agents out into the field ASAP.”
When Will exited the elevator, he noted the peculiar quiet and vast emptiness on the floor. He remembered Daisy didn’t arrive until eight, and the other office staff didn’t usually come in until nine. As he approached Sawyer’s office, the sound of voices shattered the early morning silence. He couldn’t quite make out the conversation, but he paused at the closed door. Just as he lifted his hand to knock, he heard a loud crash.
“Damn it, Lucie, that was Waterford crystal,” Sawyer McNamara said. “That paperweight was a gift.”
“So dock my paycheck,” Lucie Evans said. “For the paperweight and the glass shelves. I don’t care. I’m sick and tired of you foisting off every cheesy assignment on me.”
“If you don’t like working at Dundee’s, then—”
“I’m not quitting,” she told him in no uncertain terms.
“You couldn’t run me off with a stick. Not even a stick of dynamite.”
“Then don’t complain, accept your assignment and stop throwing temper tantrums. I’d thought that by now you would have learned to control that hair-trigger temper of yours.”
“And I thought that by now you would have stopped punishing me for something that wasn’t my fault.”
Silence.
Strong, unnerving silence.
The door flew open. Sawyer stood in the doorway, obviously inviting Lucie to leave. When he saw Will, his gaze hardened for a split second.
“You made it here sooner than I’d expected,” Sawyer said.
“If you two need more time, I can wait outside.” Will wasn’t sure what he’d walked in on and didn’t want to know. During the year he’d worked at Dundee’s, he had learned there was some sort of personal feud between the Dundee CEO and one of his agents, Lucie Evans. Why he didn’t fire her or she didn’t resign, no one knew. And even more puzzling was why the two seemed to despise each other so vehemently. Taken separately, each was a nice, normal person. Lucie was warm and friendly. If she had one flaw, it was that she allowed her emotions to rule her. On the other hand, Sawyer was aloof, an introvert who didn’t socialize with his employees. He often seemed to have no emotions, his actions dictated only by cold logic.
“I was just leaving.” Lucie zoomed past Sawyer, not bothering to even give him one of her infamous withering glares. “I’m on my way to Wyoming to investigate cattle rustling.”
“Huh?” Had Will heard her correctly?
As if casually dismissing Lucie and the fact that she’d smashed his Waterford paperweight into the glass shelves along the wall, Sawyer motioned for Will to enter.
“I’m going to need for you to go home, pack a bag and take the Dundee jet straight to Puerto Nuevo this morning.” Sawyer tapped the slim file folder lying on his desk. “I just have the basic info right now, but as soon as Daisy comes in this morning, I’ll have her compile a more comprehensive file on the case and e-mail it to you.”
“Okay. What can you tell me now?”
“Sit.”
Will took the chair in front of Sawyer’s desk. Sawyer leaned against the edge of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. Not for the first time, Will thought his boss resembled a model from the pages of GQ. One of the older, more sophisticated men who fell just short of being a pretty boy.
“Archer Kress contacted me at six this morning,” Sawyer said. “You know who Archer Kress is, don’t you?”
“CEO and major stockholder in Kress Petroleum.”
Sawyer nodded. “Mr. Kress has a twenty-year-old daughter who went on vacation with some college friends to Puerto Nuevo. The Kress family has a villa there.”
“Does he need a bodyguard for his daughter?”
“No, not now.” Sawyer grunted. “It seems his daughter, Cheryl, and her friend—” Sawyer paused and opened the folder, glancing at the top file “—Tori Boyd are missing.”
“How long have they been missing?”
“Since last night. The girls went out to a local bar yesterday evening and didn’t return home this morning. Neither girl is answering her cell phone and Cheryl’s car is still parked near the pier where the bar is located.”
“Does the family suspect kidnapping?”
“No, not at this point,” Sawyer replied. “If they did, Mr. Kress would have contacted the FBI, not Dundee’s.”
“Does his daughter make a habit of staying out all night? If so—”
“I have no idea what’s going on in Mr. Kress’s head. All I know is that he’s paying Dundee’s a small fortune to find his daughter and her friend ASAP. That’s all we need to know, so if you fly to Mexico and discover Cheryl and her friend spent the night with a couple of local guys, then that’s what I’ll report to her father. But if foul play is involved, we don’t want to be accused of downplaying any danger to Miss Kress.”
“I understand.”
“Good. So go home, get packed, pull out your passport and by the time you get to the airp
ort, the Dundee jet will be fueled and ready for takeoff.”
Will shook hands with Sawyer, picked up the file folder and headed for the elevator. Just as he punched the down button, the elevator doors opened and Daisy Holbrook emerged.
Daisy was pretty and plump and everyone who worked at Dundee’s adored her. Her nickname was Ms. Efficiency.
“Good morning,” Daisy said. “I hear you’re off to Puerto Nuevo.”
“If only I was heading down there for a vacation.”
“Mmm … “ When Daisy smiled, deep dimples formed in her cheeks. “I’ll e-mail you all the info I can dig up on your case. You should have everything by the time you land.”
“Hold the fort down while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try.” She moved closer to Will and lowered her voice. “I met Lucie downstairs in the lobby. I hear there’s a cleanup needed in Sawyer’s office.”
Will grinned. “Could be.”
“Did you get here in time to see the fireworks?”
“I came in right as they went off.”
“One of these days, those two are going to kill each other.”
“Oil and water,” Will said.
“More like dynamite and a lit match.”
Will arrived at the Kress villa by midafternoon, armed with a healthy dossier on the Kress family and Cheryl in particular, as well as info on her friend, Tori Boyd. No matter what people said, the rich were different from everybody else. The villa was located in an exclusive area overlooking the water, an area lined with multimillion-dollar homes owned by wealthy foreigners. Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula had long been a favorite with tourists, even now when some areas were just beginning to recover from the devastation of recent hurricanes. But who could resist white sands and aqua water? Puerto Nuevo was a tropical paradise.
A maid met him at the door, asked his name and business, then escorted him into a massive living room with a twelve-foot ceiling and a wall of glass doors opening up to the terrace overlooking the Caribbean Sea.
“Señor Pierce, from the Dundee Agency,” the maid announced.
Two bikini-clad young women, whom he surmised to be in their late teens or early twenties, stared at him with curiosity.
“Wow, you’re the private investigator,” the willowy blonde said. “Did anyone ever tell you that you look like Matthew McConaughey?”
“Can’t say that they have.” Will put on his serious I’m-in-charge face. “Cheryl’s father is concerned about her. He believes that since she didn’t come home last night, she and her friend Tori are missing.”
“If he hadn’t called to check up on her, he wouldn’t have known.” The brunette sauntered over to Will and smiled at him. “I’m Courtney and she’s Kerry.” She indicated the other girl with a nod in her direction. “And you’re Will, huh?”
Obviously being rich didn’t make you smart, Will thought.
“Yeah, right,” he replied. “So, do you two think Mr. Kress overreacted? Don’t you think Cheryl and Tori are missing?”
Kerry spread out on the sofa, lounging there as if she was preparing for a photo shoot. Will knew when a woman was trying to get his attention.
“Tori could have hooked up with that guy she’s so hot about,” Courtney said.
“What guy?”
“Oh, some geek with glasses and an Einstein IQ or something. Tori likes the brainy types.”
“Were she and Cheryl meeting up with this guy last night?” Will asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” Kerry told him. “Courtney and I had dates last night. So Cheryl and Tori headed into town to a local bar where this guy Tori likes hangs out.”
“What’s the name?”
“Of the bar or the guy?” Courtney asked.
“Both.”
“It’s actually a bar and a restaurant,” Courtney told him. “It’s the Fiesta. We don’t know what the guy’s last name is, but his first name is Jordan and he works for some nutty old man he calls The Professor.”
Will finished questioning the two young women as quickly as he could. The longer he was with them, the more he felt like a piece of meat they were thinking about devouring.
“I assume neither of you plans on leaving Puerto Nuevo anytime soon,” Will said.
Courtney shook her head. Kerry responded, “We came here for a month-long vacation. We’re staying. Anyway, I figure Cheryl and Tori will show up by tomorrow.”
By the time Gwen arrived outside the Pasada El Paso in downtown Puerto Nuevo, she was hot and tired and longed for a shower and a soft bed. She’d flown out of Huntsville at six o’clock that morning, made a connection in Atlanta for Mexico City, had a two-hour layover there and finally boarded a plane south. It was now a little after five, local time.
Hoisting the straps of her purse higher on her shoulder and gripping the handle on her small suitcase, Gwen took a deep breath and reminded herself that she would not confront her father first thing. She’d take him out for dinner, and during dessert she’d explain that she wanted to meet his investors. If they turned out to be legitimate, possibly a couple of rich loony-tunes, then she’d return home and let her father have his new adventure. But if she felt the least bit suspicious, she’d put a stop to things immediately, even threaten the would-be investors with the police, if necessary.
The first thing she noticed when she entered the lobby was that it was air-conditioned. Thank goodness. Now, if only the rooms were.
The second thing she noticed was that the lobby was empty. Not a single soul in sight, except the man behind the registration counter. This hotel probably wasn’t a tourist favorite.
She walked over to the lone man, smiled and said, “Do you speak English?” She knew a few words and phrases in Spanish, but didn’t know enough to carry on a decent conversation.
“Sí, señorita, I speak English,” the man replied, his accent heavy.
“I’m Dr. Emery Arnell’s daughter. I’m here to join my father. Would you please telephone his room and tell him that I’ve arrived.”
The man smiled. “It will do no good to telephone his room.”
“And why is that?” Gwen asked.
“He will not answer the telephone.”
“He won’t? Why not?”
“Because he is not here. Dr. Arnell left this afternoon.”
“He left? Are you saying he checked out of the hotel?”
“Sí, señorita. Dr. Arnell and Mr. Elders are gone.”
“Where did they go?”
The man shrugged. “I do not know.”
“Does anyone here at the hotel have any idea where my father and his assistant went?”
“Perhaps, but I am the only one here now. Ria may know, but she works in the mornings, cleaning the rooms. I saw her speaking to Mr. Elders several times. Very friendly.”
Knowing temporary defeat when it slapped her in the face, Gwen nodded, then asked, “Do you have a room available for tonight?”
“Sí, sí. You may have your father’s room. It is nice and clean and faces the street and not the alley.”
“I’ll take it,” Gwen said. “By the way, is there a restaurant nearby?”
“Sí. The Fiesta, down the street.” He pointed in the direction. “They serve good pescado frito and cold beer. Very cheap.”
Gwen thanked him, signed the register and took the key he offered. After dinner she would get some rest, then tomorrow she’d question the day staff and begin searching for her father. God only knew where he’d gone or what kind of trouble he would get into before she found him.
Chapter 2
The Fiesta turned out to be a bar and grill located a block from the hotel and on the opposite side of the street. Loud laughter and the roar of conversation almost drowned out the live band. Although seemingly clean, the place reeked of smoke from cigarettes and cigars. Apparently there wasn’t a hostess, so Gwen found a small empty table in the middle of the room, feeling rather conspicuous as a lone American woman among so many locals. But within minutes the w
aitress who handed her a menu put her at ease.
“Our speciality is pescado frito, but I recommend the empanadas and a cold beer.” The middle-aged redhead spoke with a definite Yankee accent.
“You’re an American.” The comment popped out of Gwen’s mouth.
The waitress grinned. “Sure am. Born and raised in New York. Outside Buffalo to be exact. What about you?”
“I’m from Alabama.”
“A Southern belle, huh?”
“Southern, yes. A belle, no.”
“You know, you look familiar.” The waitress studied Gwen, giving her a once-over, from head to toe. “Have you been in here before tonight? I swear I’ve seen you somewhere. I never forget a face.”
“This is my first night here at the Fiesta and my first trip to Puerto Nuevo.”
The waitress grimaced. “It’ll come to me. I’ll figure out how I know you.” She glanced at the menu she’d handed Gwen. “So, what will it be?”
“Oh, the empanadas and a cold beer sounds fine.”
“Coming right up.”
By the time the waitress returned with her meal, Gwen had already declined two invitations, one from a gentleman who wanted her to join him at the bar and the other from a man who had asked if he could join her.
“Here you go.” The waitress placed the dish in front of Gwen. “Need a refill on that beer?”
“No, thanks.”
“I noticed you’ve had to deal with a few of our local Romeos. If you wind up with one you can’t handle, just let me know.”
“Thank you, Ms …?”
“Tammy Peloso, but just call me Tam.”
Gwen held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Tam, I’m Gwen. Gwen Arnell.”
Tam shook her hand, then stepped back, stared at her and laughed as she clicked her fingers together. “Damn, no wonder you looked familiar. You’re The Professor’s daughter, little Gwendolyn.”
“You know my father?”
“Well, can’t say that I know him all that well, but he’s eaten lunch and dinner here every night for a week now. And he showed me a picture of his little girl once. His precious Gwendolyn.” Tam studied Gwen’s face. “It was an old picture. You couldn’t have been more than sixteen. You were at a pier somewhere. There was a boat in the background.”
Ready for Anything, Anywhere! Page 2
