Ready for Anything, Anywhere!

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Ready for Anything, Anywhere! Page 6

by Beverly Barton


  Gwen fumed. Will could almost see smoke coming out her ears.

  She didn’t say another word all the way to the airport.

  The Dundee contact in San Juan met them at the airport. Jose was short, stocky and remarkably good looking, with curly black hair and huge black eyes. He was pleasant to Gwen but for the most part ignored her.

  He spoke rapidly in Spanish as he zipped along in late-evening traffic. Gwen, who was squeezed between the two men, kept her hands in her lap and listened, hoping that sooner or later, Will would translate at least part of the conversation.

  He didn’t. Jerk.

  Glancing out the windshield, she watched the scenery flash by as they sped along. Gwen thought that under different circumstances she would enjoy doing some sightseeing. She’d never been to Puerto Rico before. Usually on vacation trips she visited botanical gardens, explored nature trails and loved collecting information about the local flora.

  It was almost twilight when they pulled up in the parking area of a small marina. Jose parked the car, got out and disappeared. Gwen crossed her arms over her chest and looked straight ahead, determined not to be the first one who spoke.

  “Jose is checking to see if our cruiser is ready,” Will said.

  Snapping around to face him, Gwen stared at him, puzzled and speechless.

  “The Sun Dancer is one step ahead of us,” Will told her. “They left here about three hours ago, after Molly made a delivery.”

  “Why are we renting a cruiser instead of flying to the next destination?”

  “Because the next destination is the Atlantic Ocean, somewhere between here and Bermuda.”

  “Crap! They’re actually letting Daddy go on his adventure, aren’t they? But if they’re smuggling drugs, why would they?”

  “Your father’s mad adventure is a good front for Molly and Mick. They could be headed anywhere, maybe the Bahamas, maybe Bermuda. What harm would it do to let your father think they were helping him search for his mythical island?”

  “You and Jose were doing a great deal of talking. Is that all he told you?”

  “No, that wasn’t all. It seems five people were seen aboard the Sun Dancer as it headed out to sea.”

  “Five people?”

  “Mick and Molly, an old man fitting your father’s description, a young man, whom we assume was Jordan Elders and a young redhead.”

  “Cheryl Kress?”

  “That’s my guess.”

  “You think she didn’t go with Jordan willingly, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know and I’m not making any assumptions about why she might be with your father and his assistant.”

  “And with two dangerous criminals.”

  “Remember that it’s highly unlikely your father and Jordan know Molly and Mick are criminals.”

  “But if they killed Tori Boyd, then surely—”

  “If Mick killed Tori, he would hardly have done it in front of witnesses,” Will said.

  “Then my father and Jordan really might not know the kind of people they’ve hooked up with.”

  “Let’s hope they don’t. As long as they believe Mick and Molly are investors, people who’ve simply bought into your father’s crazy dream, then your father, Jordan and Cheryl should be safe.”

  “And if they learn the truth?”

  “Let’s hope we find them before that happens.”

  Chapter 5

  “What do you mean we’ll have to stay the night aboard the yacht and not leave until morning?” With her hands planted on her hips, Gwen glowered at Will.

  “No vessels are being allowed to leave tonight,” Will explained. “There’s a storm just north of Puerto Rico, one that any sane sailor would try to avoid.”

  “What about Daddy and the others aboard the Sun Dancer? They set sail a few hours ago. Why were they allowed to leave?”

  “Three hours ago the storm warning had not been issued.” Will paused in their trek down the pier to where their rental boat, which Will referred to as a yacht, was anchored. With his vinyl bag hooked over one shoulder and carrying her small suitcase, Will turned and faced Gwen, then he laid his free hand on her shoulder. “This Mick fellow isn’t going to risk his life. Once he learned of the storm warning, he probably dropped anchor at the nearest port, probably the Dominican Republic or possibly one of the Turks and Caicos islands.”

  “Then why can’t we take the jet and—”

  “And go where? We don’t know for sure where they might have docked.”

  The wind whipped around them, a warm, moist tropical wind, a precursor of the approaching storm. The pressure of Will’s strong hand on her shoulder felt reassuring, and yet the simple contact slightly unnerved her.

  “How will we ever find them, chasing after them in a boat, when we have no idea where they are?”

  “Look, I’ll fill you in on details later.” He looked skyward. “The bottom’s going to drop out any minute now, and I’d prefer not to get drenched.” He grabbed her arm. “Let’s get on board the Footloose and I promise I’ll do my best to answer all your questions.”

  They stood there on the pier for a locked-horns moment. Gwen was growing more and more frustrated with Will’s reluctance to share important information about their search for her father and his shipmates. A flash of lightning lit up the evening sky. When a loud rumble of thunder followed the light show, Gwen quickly nodded in agreement and raced alongside Will, hoping to stay one step ahead of the approaching rain.

  “There she is,” Will said. “She’s a Sea Ray 580 Super Sport. This little yacht is a compact beauty, with two staterooms.”

  Gwen stopped just long enough to size up the Footloose, and knowing very little about seacraft of any kind, her appraisal consisted of noting it was white, clean and apparently quite new.

  “It must be expensive to rent,” she said.

  “Yeah, probably is. But that’s not our concern. Dundee’s is picking up the tab.”

  “Of course.”

  “The fold-out steps are hidden in the coaming,” Will told her as he tossed their bags aboard and revealed the steps within the frame around a hatchway in the deck.

  After boarding, Will helped her onto the yacht. Another streak of lightning lit up the twilight sky. Gwen barely had time to notice that the aft-deck layout included a large U-shaped seating area, high-low tables and what she thought was a wet bar before Will shoved her bag into her arms.

  Hoisting his own bag over his shoulder, Will led Gwen to an acrylic door and hatch, flipped a switch to turn on an overhead light, then led her down the companionway. The first thing she noticed was the abundance of lacquered wood. Beautiful. Simply beautiful. Sleek and modern in design, the galley boasted abundant storage and molded black granite countertops. A large curved leather settee was nestled against the wall opposite the galley in the neat and compact salon.

  “The galley’s fully equipped,” Will said. “I believe the master stateroom and bath are aft, and the guest stateroom and bath are forward. You can take your pick.”

  “I’ll take the guest room,” she told him. “As long as there’s a bed and bathroom with a shower, I’ll be fine.”

  “Why don’t you go check it out, and if you don’t like it, we can swap. If you’d like to take a shower and change clothes, go ahead and I’ll whip up some supper for us. We’re supposed to have enough supplies for a couple of weeks.”

  “I’ll put my bag in the stateroom and be right back.” She looked directly at him. “But before either of us does anything else, I want us to have the discussion you promised me.”

  Will grunted. “What happened to the good old days when women just did what men told them to do?”

  “Remind me just what century that was.”

  “Okay, okay. You made your point,” Will told her. “I’m going to get a beer. Want one?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Aggravating, macho, bossy. Gwen silently grumbled to herself as she opened
the door to the forward stateroom; at least, she believed it was forward. She felt along the wall for a light switch and found one. The room was tiny, the bed taking up almost all the space. But like the rest of the small yacht, the room was clean and neat. She laid her bag at the foot of the bed, then opened the door and checked out the bathroom. Will would probably refer to it as the head. Wasn’t that what bathrooms on ships were called? The head was finished in Fiberglass and what she thought was Corian. White and dark blue. Nautical-print blue towels hung on the bar across the front edge of the sink.

  When she returned to the lounge area, she found Will sprawled out on the large settee, one leg crossed over the other and a bottle of beer in his hand. Her stomach did a stupid flip-flop as she stared at him. It was totally illogical, not to mention stupid, of her to be attracted to him. First of all, he didn’t seem the least bit attracted to her. And second, he was just a little too “me Tarzan, you Jane” to suit Gwen.

  “It’s raining,” he said. “If the winds get rough, we’ll probably be rocking most of the night.”

  Completely ignoring his comment, Gwen asked, “How can you be certain we’ll be able to follow the Sun Dancer’s path?”

  “Straight to the point.” He saluted her with the bottle, then downed a hefty swig, emptying half the contents.

  “It’s not that I’m ungrateful for your help, it’s just that I feel as if we’re on a wild-goose chase and are accomplishing nothing.”

  “If any of our operatives had gotten lucky enough to find the Sun Dancer while it was still in port, they might have been able to put a tracking device on board.” Will paused. “No questions?”

  She shook her head. “Go on.”

  “It’s possible that might still happen.”

  She nodded.

  “You’re wondering how come if an operative could board the Sun Dancer, why wouldn’t one of our guys simply detain the ship and all aboard.” He waited for her comment, but when she said nothing, he continued. “My contacts—Dundee’s contacts—are independent operatives. They work outside the law, and neither they nor I have any authority in these various countries, so our guys have to be careful not to get caught doing something blatantly illegal.”

  “Are you telling me that you—that the Dundee Agency has contacts everywhere, on every little island in the Caribbean?”

  “No, I’m not saying that. We have contacts on several major islands, but our contacts have contacts who have contacts everywhere on earth.”

  A tight knot formed in the pit of Gwen’s stomach. “When you said your contacts, you meant just that, didn’t you? These contacts, these operatives aren’t all Dundee’s.” She knew before she posed the question to him, but she had to ask, needed to hear him say it. “What did you do before you became a private investigator for the Dundee Agency?”

  Will finished off his beer. “I worked for the government.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I worked in the field,” he said vaguely.

  “Like the CIA or something?”

  “There’s another reason none of our contacts would try to detain the Sun Dancer,” Will said as if she hadn’t asked about his former line of work. “We don’t know what Mick McGuire and Molly Esteban might do. They could easily fight back, and one of the other passengers could get hurt. Or they could take the others hostage. It’s better for your father, Jordan Elders and Cheryl Kress if we can separate them from Mick and Molly before taking any kind of action.”

  “How do we know that my father and Jordan and Cheryl aren’t already hostages?”

  “We don’t.”

  “In any case, their lives are in danger.”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

  The door lock clicked. Cheryl Kress backed up against the headboard of the bed in her small stateroom, a room in which she was kept confined whenever the yacht came into port. Only when the Sun Dancer was out at sea was she allowed any freedom.

  “I’ve brought your dinner.” Jordan Elders entered the room, a cloth-covered tray in his hands.

  “I’m not hungry.” She glared at him, hating him almost as much as she hated Tori for getting her into this situation. Here she was trapped aboard this boat with a crazy old coot, his assistant and his sleazy investors, while Tori was back in Puerto Nuevo safe and sound. Tori should be the one here, because it was Tori who had a thing for Jordan Elders, Tori who had planned to stow away on the boat and surprise Jordan.

  “Come on, Cheryl, don’t pout. You have to eat something.”

  “I’m not pouting. I’m pissed. I’m angry. I’m outraged.”

  Jordan placed the tray at the foot of the bed. “Look, I’m sorry we can’t put you ashore so you can go home, but it’s like Captain McGuire pointed out, we can’t take any chance that you’ll involve the police, maybe even claim we kidnapped you. If that happened, it would put an end to our voyage to find The Professor’s island.”

  “I’ve sworn a thousand times over that I won’t tell a soul, that I won’t go to the police. Besides, who would believe me? I think you’re all as crazy as that nut-job you call The Professor. Whoever heard of such nonsense as an island where people live to be two hundred and are never sick?” Cheryl laughed sarcastically.

  “If you knew Dr. Arnell the way I know him, you’d believe,” Jordan said. “He’s seen this island. He’s been there. When he was twenty, he spent three weeks with these people.”

  “Yeah, sure he did. And when I was a baby, my parents put me in a rocket ship and sent me to earth before our home planet exploded.” Cheryl lifted her arms and wiggled her fingers at Jordan. “That’s why I have supernatural powers.”

  “Laugh all you want, but when we rediscover The Professor’s island and are able to bring back a miracle plant to the world, you’ll understand why this trip is so important, far more important than any personal concerns you might have.”

  Cheryl screamed. “I’m on a boat to Hell with a bunch of psychos! Get out and leave me alone.” Swinging her right hand across the foot of the bed, she knocked the tray onto the floor. Food splattered across the carpet as the plate overturned, and the open can of cola sprayed over the hem of the bedspread.

  “Damn it, Cheryl, look what you’ve done.” Jordan stared at the mess she’d made. “Why can’t you look at this trip as a great adventure, one you can tell your children and grandchildren about? You realize that we could be famous, right along with The Professor, once we give the world—”

  “Oh, shut up. You’re an idiot, you know that, don’t you?”

  Cheryl eased off the side of the bed and stepped around the toppled tray and scattered food. Jordan Elders glared at her as if she were a disobedient child and he her stern parent. She marched right up to him and stared him in the face. What Tori ever saw in this geek was beyond her. He was tall, thin and gangly, with a mop of curly brown hair and a pair of—she studied him more closely—a pair of green eyes hidden behind his nerdy glasses. He wasn’t exactly heartthrob material, but then, Tori always did go for the brainy types. Her last boyfriend had been majoring in chemical engineering.

  “If you want to get rich, you don’t have to try to find some nonexistent youth-serum plant,” Cheryl said. “Get me off this boat and back to Puerto Nuevo or the States and my dad will give you any amount of money you want. A million dollars!”

  He stared at her as she’d been speaking a language foreign to him. “You think I’m interested in getting rich? I want to make history, to be part of a group that will give the entire world this marvelous gift—a long, healthy life for every man, woman and child.”

  Frowning, uncertain if she could believe he was on the up-and-up, Cheryl shook her head and grunted. “Good grief. Are you for real?”

  “Look, I’ll help you clean up this mess.” He knelt on the floor. “Then I’ll bring you a sandwich later. But you have to promise you’ll behave yourself. You can’t keep causing so much trouble. I don’t have time to babysit you.”

  Gritting her teeth, Cheryl balled
her hands into fists and groaned. “You don’t have to babysit me. Just let me go.”

  He turned the tray upright, set the plate on the tray and took the napkin and wiped the food from the carpet. “If you hadn’t sneaked aboard the Sun Dancer before we left Puerto Nuevo, you wouldn’t be here now. So you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “Oh, I have someone to blame all right—Tori and you.”

  “How am I to blame? It’s not my fault that Tori misunderstood our relationship and thought I was serious about her. You should have talked her out of following us to the marina and trying to stow away.”

  “No, what I should have done was let her follow you by herself, instead of tagging along and trying to keep her out of trouble.” Cheryl went into the bathroom, got a towel and then dropped down on her knees to mop up the spilled cola. Her gaze connected with Jordan’s. “If I’d gone back to the villa and let her chase after you all by herself, then she’d be the one stuck here with you now and not me.”

  Jordan lifted the tray as he stood. Cheryl got up, dumped the damp hand towel on the tray and huffed.

  “Do you still not remember what happened after you and Tori boarded the Sun Dancer?” Jordan asked.

  Cheryl shook her head. “We followed you and The Professor to the marina and saw you two go aboard the Sun Dancer. We boarded the yacht so that Tori could ask you to take her with you. I knew you’d say no, and that’s why I was with her, to be there when you broke her heart.”

  “You told me that you remembered hearing voices and Tori telling you to hide. Do you remember anything else?”

  “I remember hiding in a large storage compartment on the cockpit and waiting and waiting. I’m not sure if I fell asleep or passed out. The next thing I remember was that the yacht was leaving the marina. When I came out of the storage bin, Captain McGuire saw me and dragged me to my feet. Then I screamed, and the next thing I knew, you and The Professor and Molly were all there and I fainted dead away.”

  “Why do you think Tori went back to shore and left you?”

  “I don’t know, but when I see her again, we’re going to have it out.”

 

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