by Ava McCarthy
She turned away with a twinge of regret. Truth was, she’d grown used to Novak’s presence. Revenge and grief were cold companions, after all. But now that she’d met his contact in the bank, she didn’t need Novak any more. And having him tag along for the ride didn’t fit with her plans. What if she got another chance to kill Ethan? Chances were, Novak would try to stop her.
She had no choice. As soon as Ethan’s trail ran cold in Belize, she’d cut loose and go her own way. Self-reliant and solitary. It was what she was used to.
The speedboat pounded against the water, its engine gunned like a revved-up chainsaw. Jodie glanced back at Novak to find him watching her, his expression wary. As though somehow he knew.
It took an hour for the water taxi to reach Ambergris Caye. The boat docked at San Pedro, the island’s only town, where Jodie and Novak clambered out onto a wooden jetty.
A trickle of sweat meandered down Jodie’s back. The temperature had climbed, felt close to eighty degrees, and the sunlight bouncing off clear water and white sand was dazzling.
She squinted along the pier. A slow-moving pelican was eyeing her from a distance, and beyond him the rows of coconut palms were strung across with hammocks. Already, the island felt more postcard-Caribbean than Belize City.
‘Come on.’ Novak led the way down the jetty. ‘The boat crew say the resort’s a short walk from here.’
Jodie followed him along a narrow, sandy road that wound away from the beachfront and into the town.
‘So how do we do this?’ she said, catching him up. ‘Asking about Ethan McCall probably won’t get us very far. He’d hardly have gone by the name of a dead man.’
‘He did in Belize City.’
‘That was different. He’d no choice with the bank account, it was already set up in his own name.’
Novak made a face, conceding the point. Jodie’s gaze strayed to the busy cafés and souvenir shops that lined the narrow streets. The paint here was smarter than in Belize City: fresh apple-greens, warm terracottas, crisp yellows and pinks.
She turned back to Novak. ‘We’ll have to rely on Ethan’s photo. Do you have some kind of press pass, anything to make us look official?’
He shrugged, looked away. ‘Not one that’s current.’
The evasion wasn’t lost on her. ‘I’m guessing that hasn’t stopped you before.’
‘We just need to flash it.’
They turned a corner onto Barrier Reef Drive, where many of the larger hotels seemed to be located. Jodie scanned the luxury villas, tuning into the voices of the locals around her: mesmerizing tones of Rasta-tinted English, sprinkled with Spanish and another lilting blend that was probably Belizean Creole.
Novak slid her a look. ‘This is a hell of a long shot. No reason to suppose he ever came out here.’
‘I know.’
‘Chances are he got straight on a plane and headed back home. Wherever home is.’
‘I know, Novak, you don’t need to tell me.’
He turned to face her, walking crab-wise so he could watch her expression as he talked. ‘So what if it’s a dead end? We need a plan for what happens next, don’t we? Or maybe you’ve already got one?’
His gaze was challenging, and she worked hard not to look away. He was trying to draw her out, to pick up on her intentions. He knew she didn’t need him any more. But he needed her: she was his ticket to his scoop, to the inside track.
Jodie didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed over his shoulder. He turned, and together they took in the view of the Princess Resort Hotel.
It was a U-shaped vista, the architecture a blend of Spanish and the Caribbean: pristine white stucco topped with rustic tiled roofs; repeating arches over verandas and balconies; walls festooned with hibiscus and bougainvillea in a tumble of purple and red.
Jodie’s skin tingled. She pictured Ethan against this elegant backdrop. The image was more than convincing.
Novak led the way. ‘Let’s find the bar.’
It was cooler inside, the air sweet with the fragrance of tropical flowers. Jodie slipped off her shades, blinking at the expanse of coral-pink marble, all polished to a wet-look sheen.
Avoiding reception, they veered left across the foyer until they found a poolside bar. Suntanned tourists flip-flopped in and out, ordering fruity drinks to take back to their hammocks. Novak strolled up to the barman, who was leaning against the counter looking bored and checking his phone.
Novak flashed a press card and a fifty-dollar bill in a single, fluid movement. ‘I’m a reporter from the Boston Globe, mind if I ask you a few questions?’
The barman eyed the fifty, which had fetched up on the counter, half-covered by Novak’s palm. He shrugged, and Novak passed him the photo of Ethan.
‘Recognize this guy?’
The barman studied the photo, then shrugged again. ‘He checked in here a couple of weeks ago.’
Goosebumps crawled along Jodie’s arms. ‘Do you know his name?’
The barman frowned at the photo. Then his brow cleared and he passed the snapshot back. ‘Brown. Joshua Brown.’
He reached for the fifty, but Novak kept his palm down.
‘Any idea where he went?’
The barman looked sulky. ‘I wasn’t here when he checked out. I been on vacation, only came back today.’
The notion seemed to depress him. Jodie leaned in closer.
‘Did he ever talk to you about where he was from, or where he was headed?’
‘Never talked to me at all, except to order drinks. Only reason I know his name is he charged everything to his room, so he had to sign for it.’
‘Was he friendly with anyone else in the hotel?’
‘Not that I saw. Kept himself to himself, spent most of the time dozing out by the pool. Like he was exhausted or something.’
Jodie’s gaze drifted out to the swaying hammocks, and beyond them to the strip of aquamarine sea. She glanced back at Novak, who gave a meaningful look in the direction of the foyer. She nodded, and Novak let the barman have the fifty, then together they headed back out to reception.
The girl behind the desk flashed a welcoming smile. She was model-thin, with straightened hair draped forward over one shoulder, like a swatch of black silk.
‘How may I help you?’ The badge on her shirt said her name was Daniella. ‘Are you checking in with us this afternoon?’
Novak grinned. ‘I wish. This is quite a place you got here.’
‘The very best on the island. You’re staying in San Pedro?’
He made a face. ‘The Plaza in Belize City. Next time we’ll know to come here.’
Jodie wondered where he was going with the cosy chit-chat, and decided to cut in. ‘Actually, we’re here to meet a colleague of ours, but I’ve a feeling we got our wires crossed.’
‘Oh?’
‘His name is Joshua Brown. It’s a couple of weeks since he checked in, so I think we’re too late. I believe he’s already left?’
Daniella’s smile turned sympathetic. ‘Oh, what a shame. Yes, I’m afraid you just missed him.’
Something fluttered in Jodie’s chest. ‘Really?’
‘He was booked in till tomorrow, but he got an urgent call. Said he had to leave right away.’
Jodie felt herself grow still. Traces of Ethan seemed to whisper close by, like breath on her cheek. Daniella went on.
‘He must have packed in a real hurry, he left a few items behind. If you see him, you might let him know. He can call us with an address and we’ll have his things sent on.’
Jodie’s spine hummed, the shadowy essence of Ethan lingering like a ghost. She kept her voice neutral.
‘When exactly did he leave?’
‘About six o’clock this morning. As I said, it’s a shame.’ Daniella gave a rueful smile. ‘Just a few more hours, and you would have caught him.’
18
‘Fuck!’
Novak slammed the table with his fist, sending the cutlery crashing. Jodie darted a quick lo
ok around the beachfront café, a thatched, open-sided pavilion that looked out onto the sea. The young family beside them had turned to stare, and Novak lowered his voice.
‘I can’t believe we got so close. Where the fuck did he go? And how come he left so suddenly?’
Jodie’s fingers tightened around her glass. ‘He knew we were coming to find him. Don’t ask me how, but he knew.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘That call he got. It was like someone warned him.’
Novak stared at her. ‘Shit.’
‘What?’
‘Caruso.’
‘The sheriff? How could he know anything?’
‘He knows you’re out. And he’s probably heard by now that I visited you in prison.’
‘So?’
‘Caruso knows who I am.’ He swigged at his beer. ‘Our paths crossed a few years ago, he knew I was digging. The fact that you broke out of prison right after talking to me may have spooked him.’
‘So he called Ethan.’
Novak nodded. Jodie sighed and flopped back against her seat, closing her eyes briefly. Fatigue shuddered through her. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the aroma of sweet coconut and garlic that drifted out from the kitchen.
They had an hour to wait before the next water taxi to Belize City. By now, Ethan was thousands of miles away. According to Daniella, he’d mentioned an 8 a.m. flight back to the US, which meant he could be anywhere.
A cheer went up from the family beside them as a child’s birthday cake arrived at the table. Jodie looked away. She fastened her eyes on Novak instead, noting the flush on his nose and cheekbones where his face had caught the sun. It made him look feverish. But his grey eyes were still cool and clear. He leaned forward.
‘You know, it didn’t sound like him. All that loner stuff, keeping himself to himself.’
‘Are you saying it wasn’t Ethan?’
‘It was him alright, that barman knew him straight off. I’d just pegged him as more of a pack leader, you know? The type that likes to surround himself with lap dogs and bootlickers.’
‘You’re right, that’s how he was, most of the time.’
‘But not always?’
Jodie shook her head. ‘Every now and then, he’d just take off on his own. Camp out in the backwoods for long stretches, in some isolated cabin. For weeks, sometimes.’ Her gaze roamed out across the wide expanse of white, sugary sand. ‘He seemed to need the solitude to recharge or something.’
Novak shoved his beer away. ‘Great. So now he’s feeling all nice and refreshed, but meantime, we’ve got nothing.’
‘We’ve got a name.’
‘Joshua Brown? You know how many Joshua Browns there could be out there?’ He raised his voice a little, to be heard over the chorus of ‘Happy Birthdays’ beside them. ‘And maybe that’s just a name he used in Belize. Maybe he’s calling himself something else by now.’
‘You’re over-thinking it. Why would he be that paranoid? After all, no one’s looking for him. He’s been safe for nearly three years, everyone thinks he’s dead.’
Novak shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘And if he’s been feeling safe, he might have got careless. Maybe somewhere Joshua Brown has left a trail.’ Jodie swirled her Coke, sending the ice cubes tinkling. ‘I’d like to take a look at that dossier of his.’
‘How’s that going to help? That file is almost three years old.’
She glared at him. ‘Look, I’m trying to stay positive here. We’ve got to start somewhere.’
Novak sighed and stretched out in his chair, his eye line wandering off towards the beach. ‘Maybe. But we need to know where he is now, not where he was three years ago. And we need to know soon. I mean, where the hell do we go when we leave Belize? Back to friggin’ Boston?’
He seemed dismayed at the prospect. Jodie followed his gaze, past the thatched canopy to the blue-green sea and the thread of white about half a mile out where the surf line snagged against the reef. A silky breeze drifted over her shoulders. The tranquillity was seductive, and a whisper of temptation breathed through her.
Why not stay here? Why not forget about Ethan, just let him go? You’re so damn tired.
Jodie closed her eyes, giving into the notion.
You’re free here. You don’t ever have to leave. No one knows where you are, apart from Novak.
Jodie dragged her eyes open and flicked him a glance. His expression had turned bleak. He was watching the table beside them, and Jodie followed his gaze. The birthday girl was standing up on her chair, surveying her cake.
Jodie’s chest constricted.
Five candles.
Two more than Abby.
She jerked her gaze away. A familiar coldness stole over her, and she felt her jaw tighten. She fixed her eyes on Novak.
‘Give me the dossier when we get back to the hotel. I might see something you missed.’
He nodded, distracted, his attention still on the celebrations at the next table. He dragged his eyes away, reached for his beer and took a long, thirsty swallow. Jodie hesitated, then said softly,
‘Tell me about your son.’
Novak set his glass down carefully.
‘His name’s Toby. Greatest little guy. Deserves better parents, the divorce isn’t helping him.’
Novak’s words were becoming clipped, and Jodie caught herself wondering what kind of woman he’d choose as a soul-mate.
‘What happened with your wife?’ she said.
‘Marriage just fell apart. My fault, I guess. I wasn’t much of a provider. Nothing but layoffs and cutbacks in the newspaper industry for the last few years.’
‘Your wife blamed you for that?’
‘Maybe not that part. But it put a strain on things, and that’s when I really fucked up. I was freelancing by then and started taking shortcuts with my stories, anything to try and beat the other guys to a deadline.’ He shook his head. ‘I was an ass.’
‘What kind of shortcuts?’
Novak sighed. ‘Didn’t verify my sources, didn’t check my facts. I rushed interviews, fabricated quotes, you name it. Let’s just say, my approach was less than painstaking.’ He shrugged. ‘You can guess the rest. Newspaper got sued, I got sued. Now I’m broke and no one will touch me. Had to sell every last thing I owned just to trade with Barrow. Even my beat-up old car.’
Jodie made a rueful face. ‘Put it like that, I guess you were an ass.’
He gave a humourless laugh. ‘That’s what my wife said. She saw the writing on the wall and bailed.’
‘All the way to Florida?’
‘She stayed in Boston for a while. I got to see Toby every weekend. Then she married again, moved out to Key West last year.’ His jaw muscles tensed. ‘I haven’t seen Toby in months.’
For the second time that day, Jodie experienced the urge to touch him. She clamped down on it, securing her armour, afraid of what might happen if she let her guard down. After a moment, she said,
‘Your wife won’t share custody?’
‘She doesn’t trust me. Can’t say I blame her, not after how I screwed up. But it gets worse. Her new husband’s in the military. He’s being stationed overseas for the next five years, and they’re going with him. I’ll be lucky if I get to see my son once a year.’
‘Can she do that?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out. Had my first joint custody appeal hearing a couple of weeks ago.’
Something slotted into place. ‘Is that why you couldn’t come out here? Ethan’s appointment with the bank was the same time as the hearing?’
Novak snorted. ‘May as well have missed it and come out to Belize. Fucking lawyer’s no good. I need a kick-ass divorce attorney. Problem is, that costs money. Plus, I need a steady income to prove I have a stable job. What judge’s going to award me joint physical custody?’
‘But you’re his father.’
‘I’m a broken-down hack who can’t even pay maintenance.’ His bright eyes latched on t
o Jodie’s. ‘But I can change that. A good scoop, that’s all I need. That could be a career-maker.’
She looked down at her hands, and Novak went on.
‘It’d give me a fresh start. Put me back in the money. I could take Toby for part of the year, instead of watching some military jock be a father to my son.’
‘Okay, I get it.’ Jodie had a hard time meeting his eyes. ‘You need this story. You need Ethan.’
He leaned forward. ‘And I need you. The fugitive wife trying to prove her innocence? Hell, with you, this story could be dynamite.’
It was dark by the time they got back to Belize City.
The sun had plunged below the horizon as though in freefall, with no warning or intervening dusk, and the blackness at Haulover Creek was absolute.
The river was rank with seaweed and decay. Jodie’s eyes raked the darkness as they disembarked, scouring for a taxi to take them back to their hotel. The moored boats creaked behind her, and her spine tingled as though she was being watched.
She quickened her pace.
Novak’s eyes were restless. ‘Let’s find a cab, get the hell off these streets.’
Away from the harbour, the city was crowded. Reggae pulsed from the bars, and on every corner men huddled in hostile groups, slouched into dark hoodies pulled up against the evening chill. Jodie felt their eyes tracking her, watching and waiting. Like the black vultures roosting somewhere above her in the trees.
Novak put out a hand to hail a cab, but it sped on by. They picked their way through litter and potholes, past graffiti-branded clapboards and derelict lots. The fetid, muddy smell followed them from the river, blending now with the scent of fried food from the street vendors.
Jodie glanced behind her. A panhandler was stalking them, his eyes trained on Jodie. Novak signalled to another cab. This one stopped, and Jodie clambered with relief into the back seat next to Novak.
She gave him a sideways glance. He looked rugged and sturdy, the sun-reddened cheeks giving him a healthy, outdoorsy look. She tried to picture him with a small son in tow. The image came easily and she instantly buried it, not wanting to dwell on the reason he needed her help. It just made it harder to ditch him.
