“Oh, God,” Magda moaned again. Then, as if in prayer, “Hurry up, Alicia. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up …”
That, finally, got Jenny’s mind off Hunter Calgary and on the more perilous adventure at hand.
At the villa they all looked as if they’d survived some sort of natural disaster. Well, most of them, anyway. Matt and Tom were in fine form, chortling and crowing about the monster tuna they’d managed to haul on board. But Jenny wasn’t certain she would be able to look at a can of Bumblebee ever again. Lisa and Jackie were nursing sunburns, and Carrie and Sam were trying to figure out how to ship their catch back to Dallas. She, Magda, and Alicia had a green tinge beneath their skin that washed out all color.
Magda shuddered at the strips of beef soaked in cilantro and lemon, the lavish salad, and the ubiquitous rice and beans. Alicia draped herself over the rail of the patio as if she were some kind of human banner. Jenny actually felt a little hungry. As soon as they’d docked, she’d felt right again, but Magda and Alicia weren’t as quick to bounce back.
The only one who had any interest in going into town after dinner was Phil, who’d been housebound for far too long. He begged and begged but was ignored by everyone but Matt—and even he was focused on what Jackie and Lisa were doing—which was creaming their skin with restorative oils. Taking pity on crestfallen Phil, Jenny said, “I’ll go into town with you.”
He brightened. “You are an angel!” He grabbed up his beret and Jenny held up a hand.
“No Euro-Phil tonight,” she said, her lips twitching. “Just good company and Mexican coffee.”
“All right,” he agreed, dropping the hat. “Coffee with tequila and a whole lot more. Where should we start?” He moved to the phone to call a cab.
The Hotel Rosa …
“Anywhere you’d like,” was her answer.
There was no further reason for secrecy, as far as Hunter was concerned. Jenny Holloway was safely ensconced with her friends at the villa and any concern for her safety from Troy was going to be in Houston. Still, he walked to a pay phone down the street rather than call from his room. It was his habit to take small precautions. He’d once—only once—underestimated a trigger-happy loser with a bad attitude. The man had followed him back to his apartment and taken a potshot at him. The bullet went wide, and Hunter dropped to the ground, drawing his own gun and holding the man in his sights. “Drop it or I’ll kill you,” he’d said, and the idiot had flung the gun away as if it were a poisonous snake, then run like the devil was on his heels. He was arrested the next day, claiming the incident never happened. With a bullet in Hunter’s apartment door and the recovered gun covered with the perp’s finger-prints, it was a slam dunk.
But Hunter never forgot how close he’d been to being killed. He’d underestimated the man. Period. Though he’d been shot at before, and had pots, pans, knives, chairs, whatever, thrown at him, he’d never been caught unaware before or since.
He dialed Holloway’s home and got a feminine voice. Natalie. The wife and stepmother. “Is Mr. Holloway in?” he asked.
“May I say who’s calling?”
A moment of fast thought. “His partner in the Mexico deal,” he said.
She hesitated. “I’m not sure—”
“He’s going to want to talk to me,” Hunter added in a friendly but firm tone.
That seemed to do it. He heard the clatter of the phone being set down, then staccato footsteps receding. Soon, other footsteps approached. “Yes?” Holloway demanded tensely.
“Nothing new,” Hunter said. “She’s with her friends. They’re protecting her whether they know it or not.”
He released a pent-up breath. “He called me,” he said shortly. “I was going to call you, but you told me not to. And now you’re calling me.”
“What did he want?” Hunter asked, ignoring Holloway’s fuming.
“Just a friendly chat,” he muttered grimly. “A snifter of brandy. A cigarette inside my home. And conversation.”
Hunter couldn’t imagine Holloway permitting Troy to light up inside his palace. It wasn’t in the man’s nature. But then he was playing a chess game of sorts with his former son-in-law, one where the rules changed from minute to minute. “What did he say?”
“Same as before. Wants to make amends.” Holloway expelled a breath in disgust. “He’s just so cool and collected, and the way he smiles makes me feel like I’m the butt of some joke.”
Hunter listened silently. He didn’t like the sound of Troy Russell enjoying some inner joke. “How long did he stay?”
“Not long.” There was a weighty pause. “I don’t like it.”
Neither do I, Hunter thought. He felt tense and anxious. “I’m coming back to check on Rawley.”
“What? No! Russell doesn’t know about Rawley. Rawley’s fine.”
“You’re certain?”
“He just talked about investments and wealth,” Allen assured him. “As if the bastard had two pennies to rub together!”
“He’s counting on Jenny.”
“You keep her there as long as possible,” Holloway ordered.
“That’s not in the cards. She’s done at the end of the week and she’s going back to her son. There’s no changing that.”
“Well, find a way!”
“No.” The man’s controlling nature ticked Hunter off to no end. “How was it left with Russell?”
“He said he’d be in contact. He wants money. He’s worming his way back in. I’m afraid Jenny will fall for it.”
“She won’t let Russell within a hundred miles of her, if she can help it.”
“How do you know? Have you spoken with her?” Before Hunter could respond, he ranted on, “You approached her? I thought I made myself clear—she can’t know I’ve hired you!”
“She doesn’t.”
“Why are you talking to her? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The part that wasn’t a good idea was his still working for Holloway, Hunter thought. “She’s not going to see Russell unless he forces the meeting.”
“He will force the meeting. He can’t do without money. And he’s a charming s.o.b. when he wants to be. Cold as a cobra’s heart, but determined. She fell for him once, she could do it again.”
Hunter wanted to argue. The reason Jenny had fallen for the creep the first time was because she was so lonely, so desperate to be away from her father and his new wife. But it wouldn’t do any good … Holloway only heard what he wanted to hear. “She’s leaving Sunday. So will I.”
“Make sure she’s safe.”
“I will. Did you notice what type of car Russell was driving?”
“Light metallic tan sedan. Ford Escort, I think. I wouldn’t count on him hanging on to it for long. He’ll get something else.”
On this Hunter and Holloway agreed. Although Hunter felt a gnawing urgency to get back to Houston and check on Jenny’s son, he set that aside for the moment. If Russell was contacting Holloway, still making nicey-nice, then maybe he hadn’t connected himself to the boy.
But what a bargaining chip when he did. Hunter knew it. And Holloway knew it. “She’s been checking on Rawley through her friends,” Hunter assured him. “He’s at a soccer camp with their son.”
“Troy doesn’t know about him. Doesn’t even know he exists.”
“That’s what I keep hearing. Are you sure he hasn’t figured it out?” Hunter asked.
“He would have mentioned the boy, believe me. He was subtly turning screws every way he knew how.” Holloway’s tone darkened even further. “He can never know.”
“If he’s followed your daughter at any time, he could have seen her with Rawley.”
“Then obviously he didn’t.”
“Don’t underestimate him,” Hunter said now, echoing his own philosophy. And suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He glanced around, but he was alone. He couldn’t ignore that sense of impending doom or his keen intuition. Not again.
“I never underesti
mate anyone,” Allen Holloway remarked in his blithe, autocratic way.
Hunter bit back a harsh laugh.
Jenny clasped the necklace Rawley had given her around her neck, gently touching the pink imitation pearls and examining their reflection in her bedroom mirror. She wanted to be home to make sure Rawley was all right. She was tired of sun and fun. If it weren’t for meeting Hunter, she would have counted this trip as more a hindrance than a vacation.
It was time to get to Santa Fe.
She wore a pair of khaki shorts and a sleeveless pink blouse. The necklace had been an inspired afterthought. Slipping on her sandals, she headed downstairs to meet Phil, who was waiting by the pool. The rest of the crowd seemed to have dispersed to their respective bedrooms. It had been that kind of day.
The call came in just as Jenny and Phil were heading to the cab. Phil made a sound of annoyance and had to hurry downstairs to get the call while Jenny waited at the front door. When he called to her, she hurried to answer it, her nerves jumping. “Hello?” she asked anxiously. The only people who knew how to get hold of her were the Fergusons. This couldn’t be good news.
“Hey, Jenny,” Janice’s voice came over the line. “Hi … sorry to bother you.” She sounded remote, distracted and deeply disturbed about something.
Jenny’s heart flipped over and she began to sweat. “What’s happened? Is it Rawley? Oh, God, is he all right?”
“Oh, yes, yes. Rawley’s fine. Still at soccer camp. Rick went over and checked on both boys today,” Janice assured her. “Don’t worry about him. It’s—your apartment.”
“My apartment?”
“Someone broke in.”
Her heart raced uncontrollably. “Broke in!” she repeated, stunned.
“I can’t tell if anything’s been taken. It wasn’t disturbed too much. Maybe it was kids,” she said with a note of hope. “Benny might have bitten them.”
“What? Benny? Is he all right?”
“Yeah. He’s fine, I think.”
“Janice, you’re scaring me!”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t know what happened, exactly. There was a scrap of dark cloth on the ground and some tufts of Benny’s fur. You know how he likes to guard your door. And Benny’s been kind of moving slow the last couple of days. The vet examined him and his ribs are tender. I think the intruder hit or kicked him.”
“Oh, no.” Jenny swallowed hard. “You’re sure Rawley’s all right?”
“Fine. Perfect. Except for a slight black eye where he took a soccer ball to the face. I reported the break-in to the police and called your apartment manager.”
“Diego.”
“Uh-huh. He had someone replace the door this morning. I’ve got the new set of keys. Diego just wants you to check in with him. And the police suggested you call them after you’ve looked to see what’s missing.”
Panic filled her. It had to be Troy. He’d broken into her apartment. She knew it as if she’d seen it with her own eyes. She could hear her own ragged breathing and tried to calm herself. She had to go home. Now. Immediately. “It’s okay, Janice,” she said automatically, wanting to reassure her friend that she’d done everything she could.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you. Rick wanted me to wait until you got home, since there’s nothing you can do about it now.”
“You think it was a random break-in?”
“Well, yeah. What else could it be?”
“I’m catching the next flight out.”
“Jenny, please don’t do that. Please! I shouldn’t have called you. Oh, I knew it. I just thought you might need to know.”
“Absolutely! I’m so glad you warned me.”
“Please don’t come back yet. You’ve only got a couple of days left. Enjoy yourself.”
“Enjoy myself!” she said on a half-hysterical laugh.
“Everything’s locked up tight. Oh, Rick told me not to tell you! He’ll just kill me if you come back too soon. Please, Jenny. Everything’s fine. Stay till Sunday. We’re talking another day, really. That’s all. Please.”
Jenny closed her eyes. Every nerve ending tingled. She needed to leave. But Janice was desperate for her to stay. What real difference would it make? She tried to quell her nervousness and think rationally, but all she could see was Troy’s smirking face swimming in front of her vision.
“Please, Jenny,” Janice went on. A wail sounded in the background at her end of the line. Becky and Tommy were at it again. “Please!”
“I’ve got to think,” she said automatically.
“Don’t worry. Everything’s under control. Oh, here’s Rick now …” She sounded distracted. “It’s Jenny,” she called loudly. Then she whispered, “He wants to talk to you. Please don’t tell him I told you about the breakin.”
“But—”
“Please!”
The wailing got louder and she heard the clattering of the receiver. A moment later it was picked up and Rick asked, “Jenny? How’s it going south of the border?”
He sounded so relaxed that she gritted her teeth. What should she do? Her hand was wet on the receiver. “Pretty well,” she answered a bit stiffly.
“So, what time’s that flight on Sunday? I’m picking up the boys and then coming to the airport to meet you.”
“Um … no, I think I’ll pick Rawley up, if you don’t mind. I’m in Houston by early afternoon.”
“Well, okay. Three Winds Camp is a two-hour drive.”
“I know. But—uh—I want to pick up Rawley. How’s the camp going?”
“They’re having a great time. They’re already making plans to see each other this summer. And their soccer playing has really improved.” He started talking about boys’ respective skill levels and Jenny listened silently while her brain whirled ahead.
“Rick, I’ve got to go,” she finally cut in. “I’m just heading out the door.”
“Oh, yeah? Don’t drink too many margaritas, okay? And quit having fun. I’mjealous.” He chuckled. “Maybe we’ll see you at the camp when we get the boys. Adios, amiga.”
“Adios,” she responded.
“What’s wrong?” Phil asked at the same moment Matt came out of his bedroom. They had both overheard the last few words of her conversation.
Matt said, “The cab’s waiting outside.”
“Someone broke into my apartment,” Jenny revealed.
“Aw, hell,” both men said in unison.
“Robbery?” Matt asked.
“It doesn’t look like anything’s taken, but the only one who would know is me.” She chewed her lip. “Maybe I should go back.”
“No.” Phil grabbed her arm and squired her upstairs and outside to the cab. “It can wait till you get home Sunday. This is our night.”
“Maybe I should come along,” Matt started, but Phil adamantly shook his head.
“Go be with your girlfriends. Jenny and I need to get out.”
With that he shooed Jenny into the Jeep and they were on their way to the center of Puerto Vallarta. Phil, apparently determined to keep Jenny’s mind off the break-in, talked nonstop about the state of the Mexican economy, the fabulous weather and his own return from the “dark side of gastro hell.”
He was only partially successful. She still felt Troy’s presence as if he were in the car with them. But as they turned onto the main street that faced the beach, she darted a quick look toward the Hotel Rosa. She wanted to see Hunter one last time, no matter what; and she was bound and determined to either find him or leave a message. She didn’t want to leave things the way they were. He might have rejected her, but she hadn’t imagined the feelings between them. She wanted the comfort of his presence right now, even if it had to be a fleeting pleasure.
Finding no parking place, Phil circled around the block. As they turned down a side street Jenny spotted a man at the public phone. “I think that’s Hunter,” she said, embarrassed at her unconcealed excitement.
Phil pulled the Jeep over to the curb. Hunter glanced at them, obvio
usly surprised. He hung up quickly and came around the booth to meet them. “Hey, there,” he said, gazing softly down at her. “What brings you two back to the city?”
“Phil was feeling kind of cooped up and no one else really wanted to party outside the villa, so I offered to be his entertainment.” She swallowed. She wanted to tell him about her apartment break-in, but it wasn’t his problem.
“Looking at those stucco bedroom walls was about to bring on another bout of puking,” Phil agreed. “Don’t let her fool ya. Had to drag her out of there. She only came ‘cause she felt so sorry for me.”
“So, where are you two going?” Hunter asked casually.
“I think we’ll head to your hotel and get a meal,” Phil answered. “Jenny hardly ate a bite tonight, and I’m just glad to be able to eat anything and feel good about it!”
“Care to join us?” Jenny asked, just as casually. She glanced at the phone booth but didn’t ask why he was eschewing the phone in his room. Maybe he was just being thrifty. Hotel rates were outrageous.
Hunter hesitated only the briefest of moments. Someone less attuned would have missed it entirely. But Jenny fielded the slight and tried not to let it bother her. She knew why he was doing this. He’d bluntly told her he didn’t want to get involved with anyone.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though.
They walked toward the Hotel Rosa and into the dining room. A mariachi band was playing in the corner as they were seated, making it difficult to talk, which was fine with Jenny. She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.
“The special tonight is fresh tuna, seared and lightly crusted with a mango-orange salsa,” the waiter told them.
Jenny grimaced. “I saw one of those up close and personal today.”
“Huge, aren’t they?” Phil commented.
“Did you catch anything?” Hunter asked her.
She half-smiled. “A case of seasickness.” Hunter flashed her a smile. It warmed her heart, though she tried not to let it. Don’t think about him, she warned herself, staring at her menu as if it held all of life’s mysteries.
In Too Deep Page 14
