Deadly Deceit: Jess Turner in the Caribbean (Diplomatic Crime Book 2)

by Jean Harrod

  Tom looked over at Jess. “I’m going to say this one more time. I don’t want to go and leave you both here.”

  Jess’s eyes softened. “I know, Tom. I don’t want you to go either. It’s just that I feel you must go, for your own sake.”

  “Do you really think you know what’s best for everyone?” he said in his gruff way.

  She looked away.

  He sat down at the table. “I remember those last hours in Australia. You just kept going headlong into danger, with that maniac on your tail. You wouldn’t do anything I said. I thought at the time ‘when is this woman going to be scared enough to just stay put?’”

  Jess sat down opposite him. “I was trying to save someone else. You know that.”

  “But what about you, Jess? When are you going to save yourself for a change?”

  She looked at him. “Do you remember I told you at the time that I thought I was somehow touched by death?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ve lost almost everyone I’ve ever loved.” She paused. “I’m not afraid of dying too, Tom.”

  “No,” he said. “It’s living you’re afraid of.”

  She said nothing.

  “Look, Jess.” He leant forward and touched her hand. “Come with me.”

  She stared at him.

  “At least to Miami, where I know you’d be safe. There, you’d have some time and space to decide what you want to do.”

  She shook her head slowly. “You know what Tom, I’d like that, but I have to wait for the London team to get here. I have to help them resolve all this. I can’t just walk away.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “So there’s nothing I can say?”

  “No, but I’m really glad you tried.” She got up to ease the tension and started washing up the breakfast dishes.

  He picked up a tea towel and dried them up. Neither of them spoke again as they did the chores, until they heard Sally coming back through the front door.

  “Right.” He hung the tea towel on the hook. “I’d better be off.”

  She nodded and they walked down the hall together.

  Sally was standing by the front door. “All checked-in,” she said to Tom. She pulled a raincoat off the hall rack. “Wear this, Jess. It’s Jayne’s, but she won’t mind.”

  Jess put on the raincoat, gratefully.

  Outside, the rain was being carried along on gusts of wind. It blasted Jess in the face as she walked to the car. She got into the driver’s seat, with Sally in the passenger seat and Tom in the back. The car shook in the fierce wind, and Jess had to hold the wheel tight to keep it on the road. No-one spoke.

  Jess looked in the mirror at Tom, but he wouldn’t catch her eye.

  Outside the airport, it was as chaotic as she feared. The car park was completely gridlocked. Desperate drivers had dumped their cars anywhere along the road and pavement to drop off passengers. “I can’t get any closer to the terminal,” she said.

  “Drop us here,” Sally said. “We’ll run the rest of the way.”

  Jess turned and smiled at Tom. “You both go through security to the departure lounge. I’ll meet you there when I’ve found somewhere to park.”

  Tom nodded and got out. He ran with Sally in the driving rain over to the terminal.

  Jess found herself stuck now between two stationary cars, and had to wait for one of the drivers to return and let her out. That took ages. Then she drove round and round the car park hunting for a space. Impossible. Out of desperation, she drove back to the main road, and parked the car up on a grass verge.

  Sloshing through puddles, she ran back to the terminal and into the main lobby. Suitcases and people filled the floor space. The check-in was frantic. The departure board showed only two more domestic flights leaving for Provo before the airport closed. Tom’s flight was one of them. There was a queue of close to 100 passengers for only a few more seats. People were shouting at the two check-in girls, who carried on calmly in their usual way, checking in those who were booked and refusing those who weren’t. Jess stopped, wondering if she could help. But what could she do?

  That’s when she caught a glimpse of a familiar blond ponytail. She stared across the lobby. Was that Brad talking to Big Shot Roger Pearson by the door? She was knocked sideways by a woman with a large suitcase. When she turned back, Brad and Roger had disappeared.

  Hurrying through security with her airside pass, she went into the departure lounge to see Sally rushing over.

  “You’ve missed him,” Sally shouted. “Quick.” She dragged Jess over to the glass window and pointed to one of the two planes on the ground.

  “Over there, it’s about to go.”

  Tom stood in the doorway of the plane, looking over at the terminal.

  Jess waved through the glass, and mouthed goodbye.

  He gave her a broad smile, and his usual salute. Then he turned and went inside.

  Immediately the co-pilot pulled up the steps from inside and closed the door. The propellers started up and the pilot taxied to the end of the runway.

  The little plane was buffeted around by the wind as it lifted off the ground, and into the air. She stood still, watching its tail lights flashing in the stormy sky, until it was completely out of sight.

  “Goodbye, Tom,” she whispered.

  36

  Jess drove towards town in silence, with Sally equally quiet in the passenger seat. The noise of the windscreen wipers scraping back and forth on full speed was getting on her nerves. She turned them down a notch, but couldn’t see through the blinding rain and had to turn them up again.

  So, Tom had gone. He’d been the only person she could trust on the island. She was alone now, except for Sally. How much could she trust her though when Brad was clearly her number one priority? Still, the London team would arrive soon, and that cheered her up.

  As they reached the section of road which ran alongside the beach, she glanced over at the angry sea. Huge waves smashed onto the reef offshore. Gone was the turquoise lagoon inside. Now, only grey swirling water rushed onto shore, almost covering the entire beach. Soon, it would reach the sea wall and the road would be flooded. “Hope we can get back along here in an hour or so,” she said to Sally.

  Sally sat with her hands clasped nervously in front of her. “Something’s wrong, Jess. I can feel it.”

  “Look we’re almost at the Dive Centre. We’ll stop here first and see if Brad’s about.”

  “If he’s not, can we drive to his house?”

  “I’ve got to go to the police station first and get Rebekah out of there before the hurricane hits.”

  “After that, then?”

  “We need to go to the Disaster Management Centre, Sally. That’s where we should be right now.”

  “Please, Jess.”

  “All right,” she said. “If we’re quick.” Pulling up alongside the pavement, she could see the Dive Centre all locked up and windows boarded with hurricane shutters.

  But Sally sprang out of the car anyway, and raced over.

  Jess switched off the engine and looked around. The wind was rocking the car, and lashing it with rain. She wound down the driver’s window and looked over at the Baptist church on the other side of the road. All locked up, with the windows boarded too. There were one or two cars still on the road. And a few people, covered from head to foot in sou’westers, were working to finish their chores and hurricane preparations. A loose frond from a palm tree hit the windscreen, making her jump.

  She looked back to the Dive Centre and saw Sally disappear inside. She got out and ran over. “How’d you get in here?” she asked, as she stepped inside.

  Sally held up a key. “Brad hides this spare one under of the grooves of the corrugated iron roof.”

  A roof which was unlikely to survive a hurricane, Jess thought, although she didn’t say that. “Well, he’s clearly not here.” She looked round the dark, airless room. “Let’s go.”

  “Hang on.” Sally went over to his desk dra
wer, plugged a desk lamp in the socket and switched it on.

  Jess was surprised when Sally started rifling through the desk drawers. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for his spare set of house keys. He keeps them in here somewhere.”

  “Don’t you have your own set?” Jess asked.

  “No.” Sally’s face looked stony as she continued searching.

  Jess said nothing more, and wandered over to some cupboards. She opened one and found boxes of gaily coloured cotton beachwear stacked on the highest shelves. No doubt to try and keep them out of flood water. Little chance of that, Jess thought. The building was just off the beach, and the sea was already creeping its way up to it.

  She opened another cupboard to see rows and rows of oxygen tanks. She stared at them, wondering which one had been Tom’s. But it was too dark to inspect them closely. Not that she knew what to look for anyway.

  It was only on opening the third cupboard that she smelt something musty. “Ugh, what’s in here?”

  Sally looked over. “No idea.”

  “Is there a torch anywhere?”

  Sally grabbed the desk lamp and pulled it as close to Jess as the cable would allow.

  “It’s a tarpaulin.”

  “Pull it out,” Sally said, holding the lamp higher.

  Jess dragged the tarpaulin out of the cupboard.

  “Open it out, Jess. See if there’s anything inside.”

  Jess dragged the tarpaulin closer to the lamp and opened it out. It was empty except for some damp patches right along the middle section. She bent down and touched them, then recoiled.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “It feels sticky, like blood!”

  “Blood?”

  Jess rubbed her mucky fingers on the cleanest part of the tarpaulin. “They’ve probably been hauling game fish around in here.”

  Sally’s voice was shaking when she said: “I’ve found his keys. Let’s go and see if he’s at home.”

  “We have to stop at the police station on the way.”

  But Sally wasn’t listening. She unplugged the lamp, pushed Jess out the door, and locked it.

  They both ran back to the car and jumped inside.

  Jess had the car keys so she drove further along the road and stopped outside Police HQ. She glanced over at Sally’s white face. “I’m going in to see the Police Commissioner first, Sally, and get the latest information on the hurricane. I’ll find out if they’ve let Rebekah go.”

  Sally nodded.

  “Wait here. I won’t be long.”

  “Please hurry, Jess.”

  Jess jumped out of the car and ran into the building.

  *

  Dexter Robinson sat behind his desk looking strained. “The mobile signal is already down,” he said, glumly. “Who knows when it will be back up again?”

  Jess took her mobile out of her pocket. No signal. “Are the landlines still working?”

  “For the time being.”

  Jess sat down on a chair opposite him. “Is Mrs Canning still here?”

  He nodded.

  “That means she’s been in custody for over 24 hours. You either have to charge her or let her go.”

  He nodded. “I was about to release her.”

  “Why have you kept her so long?” Jess asked.

  He looked Jess in the eye. “She hit one of my officers over the head with a cricket bat. He’s up in the clinic with concussion, and she refuses to answer any questions or give a statement. She says she has a right to remain silent.”

  “Does she have a lawyer?”

  “She refuses to have one.”

  Jess frowned. “Has Charles Regan been here to see her?”

  “We haven’t let him see her.” Dexter pulled a disapproving face. “Their... liaison is a scandal,” he said. “She’s the wife of the Chief Justice.”

  Jess sat back in the chair. Was the Chief Justice the only person on this island who didn’t know about his wife’s affair? And why wouldn’t Rebekah answer a few questions, and get herself released? It didn’t make sense. “I realise this is serious,” Jess said. “How is your officer? Any lasting damage?”

  Dexter shook his head. “Only concussion. There’s nothing broken.”

  “Well that’s a relief,” she said. “Will you release Mrs Canning before the hurricane gets here?”

  He hesitated. “She’s not well, Jess.”

  Jess looked at him, quizzically.

  “You’ll see and hear that for yourself when you see her.” He paused. “I’m prepared to release her before the hurricane hits. I don’t like to hold anyone in the cells at times like these. But we will pick her up again when it’s over. We will insist she answers our questions and gives us a statement. Then we’ll decide about charges.”

  Jess nodded. “Can I see her now?”

  He got up, led Jess out of his office, and called to a young officer at the desk.

  The young man grabbed some keys and led them down into the cells.

  Now, Jess could see Rebekah in her cell, sitting still on the bed, and staring up at the sky, through the window. She still looked beautiful, but so different, with her hair back in a ponytail, face scrubbed clean of make-up, and dressed in jeans and t-shirt. She looked like a young Latino woman, with dusky skin. Rebekah crossed herself, and lowered her head as if in prayer.

  “Are you all right, Rebekah?” Jess asked, steeling herself for a stream of abuse about why she hadn’t come before.

  But Rebekah surprised her. She turned and gave Jess a level stare, as if looking at her for the first time. They were intelligent eyes. Calm eyes. “Have you come to get me out of here?” she asked, quietly.

  Jess stared back. Rebekah’s posh English accent had fallen away, and in its place was an American accent.

  Rebekah must have seen the astonishment on Jess’s face, and gave a wry smile.

  Had Rebekah completely flipped, Jess wondered? “Are you feeling all right, Rebekah?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.” She looked at Jess. “I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m perfectly sane. This is who I am.”

  Jess didn’t understand what was going on, but she was irritated now. “Well, it’s quite a transformation,” she said. “So who are you?”

  “I’m Rebekah Canning.”

  Yes, Jess thought, but his woman was completely different from the Rebekah Canning she’d known before. “So why the English accent?” Jess asked. “The charade?”

  “You’ll have to ask Charles?” Rebekah replied, as she bowed her head and closed her eyes.

  Is she praying, Jess wondered? She turned to the Police Commissioner. “Have you seen Charles Regan today?”

  He nodded. “He was in the waiting room all morning. He left at lunchtime when I refused to let him see her.”

  “Can I go now?” Rebekah asked.

  The Police Commissioner unlocked the cell door and opened it wide. “We don’t keep anyone in the police cells during hurricanes, unless we have to,” he added, sternly. “But you will be picked up again after it. Then we will expect you to answer our questions and give a statement.”

  Rebekah walked calmly out of the cell and followed the Police Commissioner up the steps, with Jess behind. In the main waiting area, Rebekah sat down on a chair. “I’ll wait for Charles here. He’ll be back for me.”

  “I can give you a lift home,” Jess said.

  “No, thanks. I’ll wait here for Charles.” Rebekah closed her eyes and put her head back on the seat, without another word.

  The Police Commissioner beckoned Jess back into his office. “What do you think?”

  “I really don’t know.” Jess was stunned. “We were going to ring the Chief Justice in London to tell him that Mrs Canning attacked one of your officers. Now we’ll have to tell him about... this latest development.” She stared at him. “I don’t know who that woman is.”

  He nodded. “We’re running an international check on her,” he said.


  “Can you let me know when you get the results, please.”

  He nodded, wearily.

  “In the circumstances, I think it would be a good idea if you ring Charles Regan and ask him to pick her up.” She paused. “He’s probably the only person who can deal with her right now.”

  He nodded again.

  She looked at her watch. “I’d better get back to the Residence. The London team are arriving on the 6.30 from Provo.”

  He frowned. “The last flight in?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “Look Dexter, I know things are really difficult, but our priority now is to keep people safe and ride out the hurricane. There’s nothing more you can do about Mrs Pearson’s murder or the Governor’s car accident until things get back to normal.”

  He nodded. “Are you going to remain at the DMC for the hurricane?”

  “That’s the plan,” she said. “As soon as our Director and the police get here.”

  “I’ll see you up there,” he said.

  “Right.”

  “Be careful, Jess,” he said. “Very careful.”

  “You too, Dexter.” She sprinted over to the car to avoid getting soaked, and jumped in the driver seat.

  No Sally!

  She looked all around, but there was no sign of her. Then she saw a piece of paper lying on the passenger seat. She picked it up. It was a note.

  Gone with Charles to look for Brad. Really worried about him. I’ll call or text as soon as we’ve found him. Will see you back at the Residence soon. Sally.

  Jess scrunched the piece of paper up into a ball and flung it down on the seat. What was Sally thinking? Running around looking for Brad in this weather. She sat staring at the rain, wondering what to do. She couldn’t go and look for Sally because she didn’t know where Brad lived. With no mobile signal, she couldn’t call her either. She turned the car round and headed back towards the Residence.

  But, as she drove back, she couldn’t get Rebekah’s eyes or voice out of her head. Why had she put on such an act? Did Dominic really know the woman he was married to? He must do, she thought. No-one could hide something like that from their husband, surely? And what about Charles? He clearly knew because he was having an affair with Rebekah.