***
Damn. Brent hesitated and jabbed the 7 button.
What was she thinking? God knows what could have happened if Luis had any inkling that she was connected to him.
As the elevator passed through its chrome channel and into the glass tube, he scanned the lobby below, but Jill was already gone. This wasn’t her fault. It was his fault for not paying more attention when he first spotted Luis and gave chase. It was Brent’s fault for dancing with Jill when he had no business being in her company. It was wholly his fault for caving into the temptation of spending time with her at the Atlantis…and for God’s sake, he should have left her alone with her mother tonight in the casino.
The ding of the elevator jarred Brent. He was mad at himself. He was frustrated by Jill. But damn, was he glad that she noted the deck Luis had pressed. It was the first decent lead he had. With Luis’s challenged height, Brent had lost track of him in the casino. Now he had something to go on.
Deck Seven was dedicated to cabins, so there was no chance the Dominican was looking for a late night snack or concert. Standing at the bank of elevator doors, glancing to his left at an endless corridor with waves painted on the walls, and doorways dotting every five foot interval, Brent realized the futility of his situation. He couldn’t bang on every one. If he did, surely Luis would hear the oncoming knocks and avoid answering.
Brent considered simply squatting down and waiting, but that seemed ludicrous. He started down the corridor, willing one of the doorways to open and reveal the rat, but realized that was a lame option as well.
If Luis was on this deck, then at some point in the morning he would rise and venture out. Brent looked at his watch. 12:30am. The only viable choice seemed to be to sleep for a few hours and make sure he was back on this floor before dawn.
***
At 6:00am Brent stood with his shoulder propped against the window lodged between two banks of elevators on Deck Seven. These were the only elevators for the deck so he would be able to see anyone come or go. What he couldn’t do was tackle the staircases on each end of the corridor, but he presumed Luis would be too lazy to use them. Looking out at the sea, the surface was radiant from the morning sun and a cloudless sky. Brent saw the shadows of the deep begin to wane as the ocean floor rose to meet the hazy silhouette of Grand Turk in the distance. It had been nearly twenty years since he was on these waters.
Brent’s summers were spent sailing in his parent’s 40 ft. Cruiser, named Coales’ Cove. Jack Coales, his father, owned Warm Winds Boating. One great perk that Jack Coales allowed himself was to take the summers off and spend them with his wife and teenage son. They would cruise the Caribbean under the guise that he was researching new engineering ideas. Brent loved those days. He loved marlin fishing with his father while his mother read under the shade of a floppy white hat. He always thought she looked like a bee-handler in that thing.
He missed them so much.
A bell went off on one of the elevators and Brent saw the red light above the bank to his left illuminate. A single cabin steward disembarked and Brent slouched back against the window.
“Excuse me?”
He turned around at the inquiry from the young man in uniform. Bespectacled eyes studied him curiously as the steward scratched his short red hair in contemplation.
“Are you looking for someone?” he asked.
“No, I was just trying to gauge how far we were from Grand Turk.”
“We’ll be docking in about an hour sir,” the steward hesitated, fidgeting with an envelope in his hands. “I−I was told that you were looking for someone. He wanted me to give you this, but if you’re not−”
Dammit! “Yes, yes, that’s me.” Brent grabbed the envelope and managed a curt nod of gratitude before the steward shrugged and disappeared back into the elevator.
Brent ripped open the envelope, feeling a sense of motion sickness.
Back off or the girlfriend gets hurt.
So few words, and yet such an impact.
Reaching out against the wall for stability, Brent jabbed the envelope into his shirt pocket. What had he done? Dammit, what had he done? He had to think. Where was Jill? Had she mentioned anything about where she would be today? No, she was too busy pointing out Luis’s whereabouts. Christ!
Brent launched and slammed his palm on the elevator button.
Chapter Four
Moving onto the second dining hall after striking out in the Oceanic Restaurant, Brent paced through the rows of tables with the tact of an elephant. He didn’t care about the curious glances. He read the faces, and if he didn’t recognize them, he moved on. But at one table he did identify a face, only it wasn’t Jill. It was the blond woman who sat next to her at the casino. A quick scan of the woman’s features revealed a resemblance to Jill, but it was when she turned her head in profile that the likeness was cinched. In that regal side view, he could estimate what Jill would look like in thirty years.
Now what?
There was no time to argue decorum. Jill was not here and he needed to locate her. When he would have swooped in with a polite introduction, Jill’s mother picked that moment to look up, anticipating her waiter. Recognition widened her eyes−eyes that were brown, but with the same near almond shape of Jill’s. Her mouth opened in surprise and then she managed a level, “Hello.”
“Good morning,” he began, fumbling for his next words. “My name is Brent. I met your lovely daughter yesterday and I−” You what? “And I owe her a pair of sunglasses,” Lame. “Do you know where she’s at?”
An exchange of glances volleyed between Jill’s mother and the stout dark-haired woman with glasses beside her.
“She told me that you had a date with someone else on the ship. I don’t appreciate a lothario chasing after my daughter.”
It occurred to Brent that there were more than just physical similarities between mother and daughter. They were both very headstrong and neither was reluctant to voice the first thing that came to mind. Jill’s mother looked polished in her aqua blouse and white button earrings, but her stare was shrewd and her mouth was unsmiling.
“My date,” he emphasized, “was with a business acquaintance−something I could not get out of. And now I’ve been searching for your daughter ever since.”
With the window behind her, sunlight radiated off of her blond hair, blinding him to the judgment on her face.
“Mrs. Perry,” he hesitated, not certain she bore the same last name, but her brief nod confirmed it. “My name is Brent Coales. I design boats for a living and I have a house in Tampa−not on the water, but two blocks away. I graduated from the University of Florida, and I drive a Jeep. I’m not married and I don’t have a girlfriend because the work schedule has been very demanding. I don’t even have a dog. A friend convinced me to go on this cruise, and I met your charming daughter, and accidentally knocked her sunglasses overboard. Before I got the chance to repay her, business called me away as it usually does.” He paused to draw a breath and found that her implacable expression had not altered.
“When you see her, if you could just−” his voice faded because he honestly did not know how to complete the sentence.
The woman continued to study him and then said, “Jill Ann is a Gator.”
Jill Ann. A University of Florida alum as well. For him it was nearly fifteen years ago. He wondered when she graduated.
“I honestly can’t tell you where she is, Mr. Coales. She said she was going to find a beach on the island and that she would meet us for dinner. You are welcome to join us later.”
Some of the tension between his shoulders receded. Brent smiled and nodded, wondering what it would be like to have a woman like Jill in his life, and a mother in-law as well.
“Thank you, Mrs. Perry. It was nice to meet you.” He extended his smile towards her guest and added, “You ladies have a wonderful breakfast.”
Brent walked away feeling their eyes bore a hole in the back of his head. For several steps the smil
e still tugged on his lips, but the thought of reaching Jill and making sure Luis had not touched her sobered him. He exited the dining room and started downstairs for the gangway.
***
Grand Turk Cruise Center was breathtaking. Jill stepped out of the shadows of the Neptune Majesty onto a pier where just a three hundred foot walk away laid turquoise water and a white sand beach. At the end of the pier sat Margaritaville Restaurant, wrapped by a lavish pool already filled with bodies−and it was not even 9:00am. The beach, with the stately cruise ship towering over it was also jammed with an influx of tourists. After a polite inquiry to a nearby sun-hat kiosk owner, Jill learned that South Beach was much quieter, and set off on foot after being assured it wasn’t a long walk.
The hike along the beach was worth it, as she passed by a thatch-roofed bar and a series of single-story pastel-colored villas. Stopping only when her knee acted up, Jill was relieved to settle down atop her rainbow towel and dig her toes into the warm sand. It was still early enough that the sand didn’t scorch her feet, and early enough to lay back in the sun without worrying about getting burned. Shading her eyes with her hand, Jill saw the Neptune Majesty moored offshore only a half mile away and smiled.
Alright Mom, she conceded, this isn’t so bad.
One last peripheral glimpse revealed the closest humans were a young couple donning snorkeling gear several hundred yards away. Behind her, the string of villas were either unoccupied or the residents had not yet woken. Jill sank back against the towel, still in her sundress, waiting till the heat offset the trade winds.
Nearing a state of nirvana with the smell of the ocean and the distant sound of activity, Jill didn’t hear the tread approaching, but she felt it. A thump thump in the sand that grew closer until she sensed a shadow−as if a cloud obstructed the sun.
Jill opened her eyes and saw a silhouette standing over her. She sucked in a gulp of air and started to cough when a speck of sand lodged at the back of her throat. Propping up on her elbows she gasped out, “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
Brent didn’t wait for an invitation and dropped down in the sand beside her. His sunglasses were on and obscured his eyes, but the grin was enough to make her start coughing again. When the fit finally subsided she took in his navy shorts now dusted with white granules, and the loose cotton shirt billowing in the breeze, exposing a glimpse of his chest.
“If I recall,” she said, “when last we left off, you gave me the boot, Mr. Coales.”
Brent did not answer and kept his gaze on the ocean, affording her the opportunity to study his profile. His was a pensive silhouette, the muscles along his jaw clenching as the auburn hair tickled some of the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. The scar was visible to her now and it stood out like a thin line of chalk written on a tan sidewalk.
“We’re back to Mr. Coales,” he murmured, still not looking at her. “You’re right, Jill. I was upset because you were insinuating yourself into something that you shouldn’t have.”
Jill mulled that over. “Regardless, I don’t appreciate being chastised by someone I don’t know. I was naïve. I had no idea you were shady.”
The scar disappeared and his cheek curved into a smile. “I’m not shady.”
“What are you doing here? You made yourself pretty clear.” She glanced past him at the vacant beach trying to locate aid if she required it. “And if you could find me here, how did you have so much trouble with him?”
“Well, your mother gave me a clue as far as where you were.”
“My mother!” Jill hefted off her elbows and sat up straight, searching the path back to the cruise center, expecting her mother and Betsy to appear at any moment. “You talked to my mother?”
“I was looking for you, but I found her instead.” Brent turned and grinned. “And she has a lot of your traits, I must say.”
“I am nothing like my mother,” she huffed. “So, what was so damn important that you had to track me down here? Did you lose him again and need my help?”
Brent forced a laugh. “No. I−”
His arms rested atop his knees and he gazed out towards the moored cruise ship. The pose made the span of his back all the more evident. It was wide and tapered down to a narrow waist, and it looked forged by a great artist. For a long time he remained silent and Jill decided she was in no rush. She was almost tempted to lie back down.
“Luis is a corrupt and dangerous man, and I was worried about you.”
Perhaps it was the gravity with which it was uttered, but for the first time the implication of his statement set in.
“Because I saw him, you think I’m in danger? And now you’re here to keep an eye on me.”
His silence made goose bumps spring up on her arms. To this point she never perceived any danger with Brent Coales. Heck, it was a Caribbean cruise. What type of danger could there be? Now she realized how ignorant she was. Still, she seriously doubted someone who looked like Brent could be involved in any unsavory business dealings. And Luis, as he had addressed him, seemed a caricature, not a legitimate antagonist.
“If that’s the case,” she continued. “By being with me, you’re not ensuring my safety, you’re jeopardizing it.”
He turned his head and took off his sunglasses and she saw torment there.
“Yesterday I was jeopardizing your safety by being with you. Now we’re beyond that.”
Jill absorbed the statement and wanted to grab her belongings and throw them into her big purse and sprint back to the ship.
“Jill.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes and looked pained. “I’m not a criminal if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“What are you, then?”
He looked out at the ocean and she detected a sense of longing in him.
“I’m a marine structural engineer. I design boats for my parent’s boating company.”
“You mentioned that. It sounds routine, so where does the drama come into play?”
He was silent for a long time, but again she wasn’t going to push. She listened to the seagulls circling overhead and the crackle of the palms behind her and tried to quell her nerves.
“I have a childhood friend who is pretty affluent,” he started. “And now someone is trying to blackmail him.”
Jill sat forward, alert now. “So, he can call the authorities and have it taken care of.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes,” she argued. “Yes it is.”
Brent smirked. “Look, I can’t get into it all. Just know that I’ll stay out of your way so you can enjoy your cruise, but I won’t stay far away. Luis has no interest in you, and I want to make sure that doesn’t change.”
Jill curled her knees up under her chin, and clasped her palm over her scar.
“I didn’t want to scare you,” Brent turned towards her. “But I also felt that you needed an explanation.”
She nodded at the words that came to her in echoes. “I’m no fool. I know you’ve told me about 10% of the story, but it’s also none of my business.” Acknowledging that, she still plodded forward. “So is this Luis guy doing the blackmailing?”
Brent shook his head. “I’m not going to answer that.”
“You said it yourself−that I needed an explanation.”
“Not that much of one. But okay, yes, he is the man doing the blackmailing.’
“You can get the ship’s security to help you.”
“Jill,” he sighed. “I can’t.”
She sensed his futility and asked, “What can you possibly do by yourself?”
“Whatever I have to.”
Jill could see a muscle spasm at the top of his jaw. “It must be one damn good friend,” she remarked.
Brent barked a quick laugh. “Yeah, that he is.”
As the sun inched up in the sky, so did the temperature. Only a few yards away the allure of tranquil azure water beckoned Jill with a siren’s song. Brent confused her and his predicament made he
r anxious, and yet she hated the cloak of torment that surrounded him. If what he said was true, his greatest weakness was loyalty, and loyalty was one of the strongest traits to attract her. Not to mention loyalty packaged in one incredibly hot man. She would give this man a cautious berth, but she was not ready to run…yet.
“I’m going to cool off a little bit.” Jill rose and kept her back towards him as she stepped out of the sundress.
She sought to conceal two features−the slash on her knee, and the bruise on her stomach. Without looking back, she marched into the tepid water until both atrocities were obscured. She soon perceived the soft laps of his approach behind her.
***
Brent heard her walk away, her feet making a soft crush against the sand. His head hurt with the effort to leave, but the haunting implications of Luis’s letter commanded that he stay. As Brent looked up and saw her backside in the royal blue bikini, and the well-toned tan legs slicing through the water, something else commanded him to stay. As if he was the sun and she was the horizon, Brent was drawn towards Jill and followed her into the sea.
She stood with her back towards him, the water lapping just below the knotted string of her bikini top. Her arms drew soft patterns in the ocean and her head was tilted back towards the sun.
“You’re still here?” she asked in hushed reverence to the tranquility around them.
Drops of water glistened on her shoulders. He longed to place his hands there, but she did not belong to him.
“Some things are hard to stay away from.”
That statement might have been a little too earnest because Jill swirled around in the water. The quick motion and the sun’s heat combined to make her unstable as he heard her cry out in pain. With no more than a breath, his hands were on those shoulders, righting her, his head dipped to look into her eyes.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“I stepped on a shell, I think. Something cut my foot.” She smacked the water in frustration and the spray settled on his chest.
Though the water was translucent enough to see the white sand on the bottom, it was like looking through saran wrap. At least no cloud of blood marred the milky foundation. In his grasp he could feel Jill favoring one foot. Without considering the action, he reached down and swiped an arm behind her knees to haul her up into his grasp.
Emotional Waves Page 5
