by Beck, Jamie
“It only takes a second for a bullet or a knife to do permanent damage.” He straightened his posture as if his muscles were tightening bit by bit.
“I’ve taken some self-defense classes in the past five years. Trust me, I know my limits.”
“That sounds uncomfortably familiar, and to be blunt, I know mine.”
“What’s that mean?” All my happy vibes from earlier fizzled.
He tugged his earlobe as his lips pressed together. “The last time I got involved with a stubborn, passionate woman with all the answers, it didn’t work out so well. Not sure I want to sign up for that ride again.”
I blinked, suddenly feverish. “Are you saying that I’ve got to do things your way—play everything safe all the time—in order for us to be friends or whatever?”
He stared at me for what seemed like forever. “This trip’s not some little thing. I’m not setting a curfew or micromanaging your life. But you’ve got no training in undercover operations. You don’t know what this woman he’s hooked up with is capable of doing, either, so at least be honest with yourself if not with me. You’re so determined to get what you want that you can’t be objective.”
I gulped my chai, which now tasted sour thanks to my bitter disappointment. “If this were that dangerous, the FBI wouldn’t go along with it.”
“I hope you’re right.” He opened his wallet and tossed five bucks on the table before he stood. “I wish you well. Truly. I know there’s a lot at stake for your family. But I’m sorry, Erin. I can’t do this with you. I left Nashville to live a quiet, comfortable life. One without worry.”
“You’re being unfair.” I slapped my hand on the table, then winced when his brows rose. Still, he was in the wrong. “From the moment we met, when I barged my way in with Rodri to get my albums back, you knew what kind of person I was—one who hardly thinks things through, let alone overthinks them. I’m working on that a little, but now you suddenly want me to be someone else entirely.”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t. I like you exactly as you are. But this right here reminds me that what I like about you is exactly what scares me about caring for someone like you. I don’t expect you to understand. You haven’t been through what I have. You don’t know how hard it was for me . . . still is. How I’ve struggled with my own guilt for agreeing to the pregnancy, agreeing to the camping trip . . . The tears I’ve cried. The booze. The anger. I can’t do it again. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
I stood and reached for his hand. “Wait a sec . . .”
He raised mine to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Please be safe and take care of yourself.”
That sad little smile of his appeared before he turned, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away.
I sank back onto the chair with a thud, as if I’d gained two hundred pounds in ten minutes. Aching from losing something we never fully explored.
Dad had always told me to be true to myself, but when it came to relationships, was there a line between self-respect and selfishness? Since my breakthrough with my sister, I’ve thought about that. About how my attitude—the delight I’d taken in defying my mom and Amanda under the auspices of following my father’s advice—helped shape their attitudes toward me. Had I also repeated that pattern with Eli, or were we actually incompatible?
One I could fix. The other, not so much.
Either way, I had a plane—and a liar—to catch.
I wished I could roll down the window to get a better view of the island along the one-hour drive to the Puerto del Rey Marina, situated in the northeast coast of Puerto Rico. It’d been too dark to see much of San Juan last night, and my morning had been consumed with interviews and a mountain of paperwork. Now I was trapped in the back of this squad car.
The wireless recording device on my wrist resembled a Fitbit. Much less likely to be detected than the tapes, wires, and recording devices I’d grown up seeing on TV. Still, wearing it made what I’d signed up for suddenly very real, and Eli’s dire predictions more fathomable.
Agents Reyes and Jones sat in the front seat, dressed in plain clothes, but neither spoke to me.
My knee bounced restlessly. I needed this win to prove to Eli that I hadn’t been foolish. To show my family that I was a capable, fierce muthaducker.
But what if Lyle wouldn’t sign the title, or Ebba turned out to be a hothead? She was a real wild card. We still didn’t know if she was in on the fraud or if Lyle had duped her, too. She could go batshit crazy as easily as break down in tears.
“We’re almost there,” Agent Reyes said over his shoulder.
“Great,” I lied, fearful that expressing doubts or nerves might cause them to cancel.
“You remember how to turn on that device, right?” Agent Jones said as the car turned into the marina and pulled up to La Cueva del Mar, a canopied restaurant-bar at the water’s edge.
“I do.” I shook out my hands, a nervous reflex I’d need to keep in check for the next thirty minutes.
“Wait here. I’ll go talk to the dockmaster to confirm which slip the target is in. Hopefully, he didn’t duck out to sightsee.” Agent Reyes exited the car, leaving me alone with Agent Jones.
“Normally, we don’t waste resources on a case this small absent corruption of public trust, but I’ll be glad to haul this ass off in handcuffs for how he’s treated his pregnant wife.” He cracked his knuckles.
“Not as glad as I’ll be to watch.” I looped my arm through my backpack. “I’ll be staying on the boat tonight rather than ride back to San Juan in this car with Lyle and Ebba.”
“Suit yourself.”
Being alone in this marina might not be my safest option, but talking to people around here would help me figure out how to get the boat back to the US to sell.
Agent Reyes returned. “The Office is still in its wet slip. You go down the main dock to the fourth row and then go left on that narrow offshoot to the sixth slip on the right. Got it?”
“Yes.” I held his gaze, pretending I was talking to Rodri even though Agent Reyes’s dark-brown eyes weren’t nearly as friendly.
“Repeat it back.”
Crap. I hated tests. “Go down the main dock to row four, hang a left, and then it’s the sixth boat on the right.”
“Sixth slip, not boat. There could be an empty slip.”
His level of particularity reminded me of my sister. “Yes, that’s what I meant.”
“Agent Jones and I will linger around the restaurant and dock. We’ll be listening in, so if you want to pull the rip cord, say the code word.”
“Okay. Code word is ‘bravo.’” Against my will, my heart picked up its pace. My mom and sister were probably sitting together awaiting my call. That pressure wrapped around my chest, but I had no time for a yoga breath now.
“Yes.” Agent Reyes put on his sunglasses while Agent Jones pulled on a baseball cap. “Ready?”
I imagined my dad smiling at me. “Whatd’ya mean you’re afraid? My little toughie can do anything!” No turning back.
“All set.” In thirty minutes, it’d be over, one way or the other. I could keep it together that long.
I opened the car door and, as instructed, didn’t look back. I scented salt water and fish. Gulls squawked, motors churned, and tourists chattered around me. Smiling as if on vacation, I took in the sun and sights. When I reached the dock, I counted ahead to mark my turn. The closer it got, the more sweat rolled down my back. Fortunately, that perspiration wouldn’t screw with the wristband.
I slowed when The Office came into view. Stan had called it a trawler, but it was an elegant triple-decker boat. White with navy trim and handsome wood accents made it look exceedingly romantic.
A rush of rage turned my body thermostat way up. I drew two yoga breaths and blew the last one out long and slow before making a move to board the boat. Two steps later, the buxom blonde I’d met in February emerged onto the aft deck.
Seeing her in her swimsuit, relaxed and happy, made the a
che for my sister and niece burn. The slutty bitch yawned like she’d just awakened from a nap. If no one had been watching, I might’ve rushed the boat and pushed her into the sea. That daydream got interrupted when Lyle appeared and said something to her.
Now or never. I grasped a stair railing as I boarded the swim platform and called out, “Hey there, Lyle. Fancy seeing you here.”
His head snapped up at his name, and then he went still.
First round went to me.
“Who are you?” Ebba asked, her voice carrying a faint accent.
“You don’t remember?” I pointed at myself with a phony, bright smile, surprised she didn’t recognize me. Then again, I had shaved my hair after our February introduction. Plus I’d been wearing a winter cap then. “I’m Lyle’s sister-in-law, you silly ho.”
“What did you call me?” She set her hands on her hips, lips parted.
“‘Ho’? Sorry. Is there a better term for a woman who sleeps with someone else’s husband? Oh, never mind. I’ve a better one for you both. ‘Felons.’”
“You’re a crazy bitch,” Ebba said as I joined them without invitation. “Hey! Get off our boat.”
Lyle remained silent, intently assessing my every move, sizing up which of us would be the predator and which the prey.
“Lyle, don’t let her talk to me that way.” Ebba slapped his arm, then swiveled toward me again. “I said get off our boat.”
“Our boat? Interesting. And here I thought lover boy anted up all the cash.” I had to keep my eye on her. She was jumpy, which wasn’t helping me keep my cool.
“What do you want, Erin?” He crossed his arms without sparing Ebba a glance.
“If you don’t get off this boat, I’m calling the cops.” Ebba stomped.
Be smart. Use her. “I doubt that’ll turn out like you think. Let’s back up, though. You keep saying this is your boat.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s our boat. Our company boat.”
Woo-hoo, the bimbo might be headed to jail, too! “Ah yes. Would that be Somniator Partners?”
“Yes—”
“Ebba,” Lyle snapped.
I wanted to kiss her for confirming another piece of the puzzle. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you both”—I faced Lyle—“but these are your final minutes of boat ownership, so take a nice last look at your love nest.”
“What?” Ebba whined.
“Why so blue?” I asked. “I’ve always been told that the happiest days of boat ownership are the first and the last. Let’s break out the champagne. I feel like celebrating.”
“All right. Enough of you and your games.” When Lyle moved toward me, I held up my hand and hoped he didn’t see it tremble. He shooed me. “Scoot along so no one gets hurt.”
“Gosh, I hope that’s a threat. That’d make it mail fraud, wire fraud, and assault . . . Tell me what I can do to make you hit me so we can add battery to that list.” I glared at him, every muscle in my body taut with frenetic energy.
“What the hell is she talking about?” Ebba finally turned her attention from me and tugged at Lyle’s shirt. He remained cool under pressure. “You said you told your ex you were leaving her for me. Why is her sister here now making wild accusations?”
I hated Lyle but had to admire his unflappable nature.
Ebba did not share his temperament, which made her the weak link I could break—or who might turn dangerous. “To be fair, Ebba, Lyle did tell Amanda about you after you both fled. What did he say, exactly . . .” I tapped my cheek and pretended to think, trying to decide how far to push. “Something about needing time because he was ‘undecided.’ Yes, I think that’s the word. It seems, however, that he didn’t tell you about how he stole my mother’s money to buy this boat.”
“Liar!” she yelled.
So she didn’t know. Would that help or hurt my mission?
“I know, I know . . . you don’t want to believe me. You believe him.” I gestured to Lyle, then set the back of my hand by my mouth as if sharing a secret with her. “My sister did the same thing for years. Turns out he lied to her. Lied to his first wife, too. Now he’s lied to you. Sucks, huh? But he gets points for consistency.” I chuckled to annoy them both.
“First wife?” Ebba’s eyes got wide. “What’s she saying, Lyle?”
Before he answered, I interrupted. “The PI we hired collected a whole file of documents to prove every word. Granted, if Amanda hadn’t reached out to Lyle’s dad, we might not have learned about Deanna so quickly.”
Ah, there it was. A flicker of heat flared in his eyes from a second blow he hadn’t expected. His father.
Lyle’s coloring now looked like he’d been on the boat all week without sunscreen. He glanced past me, up and down the docks. “I don’t see any cops, so you must want something specific.”
“Oh, I do.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Ebba said. “I’m sure losing Lyle was a blow to your sister, but she’s obviously unhinged and making crazy claims. Instead of badgering us, you should convince her to not fight the divorce. Lyle and I are getting married whether she likes it or not.”
“Bet you have family money,” I said.
“So?”
“Better get a prenup.”
She scoffed. “I’m done with you and your sister. What a wimp to send you instead of coming herself.”
I jabbed my finger at her face. “You shut up unless you want those hair extensions on the ground and your ass tossed in the sea.” I could do it without worrying overmuch. Ebba wouldn’t drown with those fake tatas to keep her afloat. “The only reason Amanda’s not here is because it would be too risky for the baby.”
“Whatever,” Ebba said, showing no remorse for breaking up a family-to-be. I really should shove her overboard.
But this was it. Time to bluff my ass off. I was good, but so was Lyle.
My heart pounded so hard I thought he might see my chest thumping, so I faced Ebba.
“Go ahead, dismiss me, but I’m here to offer you both one chance to get out of this without serving time.” I turned back to Lyle. “I’ve got a false deed, the letter about the affair in which you claimed to be working on the real estate deal in Florida, the public records for all of your shell corporations, interviews with people you two have dealt with recently, wire transfers from your accounts, and obviously the information needed to track you down here at this marina. Sign over the title to this boat right now and I won’t go to the cops.”
He laughed, cocky as ever. “Amanda and your mother will never risk the scandal. Nor would my wife put her child’s father in jail.”
It took every bit of restraint not to rush him and shove him off the boat. Only a monster could use my sister’s love against her . . . and harm his own child. I’d give him points for knowing my family pretty well, but he should’ve considered the way painful events change and harden us.
“Don’t count on my sister’s sympathies, Lyle. Your wife has started divorce proceedings and, given the way you’re treating your daughter, hardly thinks of you as her child’s father. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for proving yourself to be the dick I always said you were before your child is born. But make no mistake, Amanda won’t protect you. Don’t believe me? Roll the dice.”
He hesitated, his cold blue eyes heating with menace. In contrast, Ebba had fallen silent and turned white as the fresh paint on this old boat. Lyle took another step toward me. I gulped and stepped back, bumping into the side of the ship. Trapped. Shoot. Had Eli been right to worry?
My gaze darted between him and Ebba, but I refused to say “bravo” before I got that title.
Lyle spoke through gritted teeth. “Whatever ‘evidence’ you think you have is a long way from a conviction. I’m sure Kevin explained how hard it is to prove fraud absent a confession. Is that why you’re here? Are you wearing a wire?”
We’d anticipated this possibility, so I pulled up my T-shirt to reveal a red bikini top, then spun around to show them the “absence”
of any wires and recording devices. Meanwhile, the bracelet kept track of every word, but Lyle wouldn’t think twice about a yoga instructor wearing a Fitbit.
Sticking as close to the truth as possible, I said, “It’s just the three of us on this boat. Maybe bimbo here doesn’t know all you did, but you and I know the truth, so let’s cut the crap and make the deal. You don’t want to go to jail, and I don’t want the government to seize this boat and auction it off for peanuts, leaving my mom holding the bag. Gimme the title and we all walk away.”
“Lyle!” The desperation in Ebba’s eyes suggested she’d finally started to believe me. “You said you got a loan.”
“I did.” He smiled.
“Yes, he did. A loan from my mom that he repeatedly said—verbally and in writing—was for a real estate deal in Florida.” I made a show of gesturing around The Office with a quizzical expression. “This doesn’t look like a South Florida condo complex to me. Oh, and by the way, the first interest payment date came and went, so my mom is calling the entire balance due. Absent a four-hundred-thousand-dollar money order, I need the title to settle up.”
Lyle sneered. “I’ll give you credit for being the only Turner with the balls to threaten me, but you’ll be going home empty-handed. The cops will need time to investigate before they get a warrant, so I’ll be long gone. You can’t touch me where we’re headed.”
“Wait a second.” Ebba’s crestfallen expression gave me a little thrill. If she hadn’t ruined my sister’s life, I’d almost feel bad for her, because it couldn’t be easy to see the ogre in someone you loved. “Is she telling the truth? Did you steal the money?”
“I borrowed it.” Lyle took another step toward me, but I ducked out of the way. Adrenaline had me on high alert. If I had to, I could jump into the water.
He stopped his advance, choosing another tack. “Ebba, change in plans. We’ll be taking off sooner than expected. Go inside while I escort our guest off the boat.”
I was running out of time, and if Ebba went inside, I’d lose my weak link. “I never liked you, Lyle, but I never thought you were this stupid. But, hey, if you want to risk your life by sailing stormy seas rather than hand this boat over, no one will miss you.” Then I spoke directly to Ebba. “In the meantime, now that you know the score, everything you do to help him escape makes you an accomplice after the fact at best, or a coconspirator at worst, so I sure hope he’s worth it.”
