Valentine's Day is Murder

by Arnold, Carolyn

  She was holding up a phone. “It’s Jimmy’s.” She pressed a button to wake it up and the lock screen was a picture of him and Meredith.

  “Where did you find it?”

  Sara pointed to the cooler. “It was on ice.”

  “Let’s just hope Jimmy isn’t.” His words came out without thought and he shook the negative implication, choosing to focus on the positive. “Jimmy was on this boat.”

  “He was. That means we’re on the right track. It’s obvious he was involved.” She nudged her head toward the unconscious captain. “He tried to kill us.”

  “It’s what he was involved in that boggles my mind.”

  “He had a boat.”

  “You’re thinking he’s a pirate of sorts?”

  “Silly, right?”

  “A little.”

  “Hey. Remember you brought it up in the first place.”

  “I know, but I think there’s more going on. There seems to be a lot of people tangled up in this. It’s like it’s an enterprise. What else could bring a boat captain and a waiter together?” Sean ruminated over what they knew, which wasn’t much.

  The captain moaned and came to. When his eyes shot open, he fought against his bonds.

  Sean rushed over to him. “Tell us where he is.”

  “I know nothing.”

  “You know more than you’re telling us.”

  “You got that part right.” The captain hurled spittle toward Sean, but Sean dodged out of the way.

  Sean yanked the captain to his feet and steadied him with hands on both of his shoulders—the ropes secured around his ankles made balancing difficult.

  “Where is he?” Sean asked.

  The captain laughed. “I can’t tell you.”

  “This isn’t a joke.”

  “Who said I was cracking one? They will kill me.”

  “They? They who?”

  “I will never talk.” The captain buckled against Sean’s hold and hurled himself into the sea.

  Sean had tried to stop him, but it was too late. The captain was sinking fast. Sean dove in after him. The saltwater burned his eyes, making clear focus impossible—all he had to work with were inky shadows.

  He kicked his legs, adrenaline fueling his movement. He reached out and his hand brushed against fabric. If only he could get a little closer. His fingers extended and struggled in the darkness but caught nothing.

  The figure that was the captain faded from view, swallowed in the midst of rising bubbles.

  Sean’s lungs tingled. He needed oxygen. Still, he stretched and pushed one more time in an effort to grasp the man, but survival instinct won the battle.

  Breaking the surface, he gasped for air.

  “Sean!” Sara yelled and tossed him a preserver.

  The currents had taken him a distance out from the boat, but Sara’s pitch was good and landed with a smack against the water, only a few feet from him. He latched on and kicked as she reeled him in.

  Once inside the boat, he was thankful to have footing beneath him again. The awareness that he had tossed aside his fears was emphasized by the adrenaline pounding in his skull.

  Sara hugged him and then dropped onto a bench. “I know you did everything you could, Sean, but there goes our last lead.”

  The barrage of thoughts cleared enough to realize they weren’t at a dead end—yet. He shook his head.

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “The hostess at the restaurant.”

  Sara’s eyes enlarged. “She was dismissive.”

  “How much do you want to bet she’s a part of this somehow?”

  “It’s worth a try— Ah, Sean.”

  “Yeah?” He followed the direction of Sara’s pointed finger to find a large cruise ship headed straight for them.

  “Oh…” Sean hustled around to the motor and pulled on the engine starter.

  Nothing happened.

  “Sean, it’s—”

  “I know. I know.” He gave it another tug. The motor spurted but didn’t turn over. “Come on.” He let out his breath when another attempt had the motor gurgling to life and settling into a rumble.

  Sean thrust down and the boat responded, kicking up the bow into the air while sinking stern into the water.

  It took some fancy maneuvering, but he slipped past the front of the ship just in time.

  -

  Chapter 15

  ANCHORS AWAY

  ADAM LOWERED HIS PHONE. This was his third attempt to reach Sean and each time it filtered through to voice mail. He left a message to update them on where he was so far—nowhere, except a mild suspicion.

  There was a sick dread that played in the pit of his belly and he popped an antacid hoping to soothe it. He knew his discomfort originated from more than the fact Sean wasn’t answering. While a part of him wondered about their safety, he also trusted that they could handle things. Or maybe his mind had convinced him of that.

  But his mind kept replaying his conversation with Ralph Hudson from the night before. Somehow the man knew that Jimmy was out of town. Did this come from firsthand knowledge, rumor, or was it a good old-fashioned guess?

  Adam conducted a more intrusive sweep into Ralph’s background. He managed to access Ralph’s financial portfolio and realized that even though the man lived as if he were broke, his investments were sizable. Of course, it was nothing when compared to the digits that the McKinleys possessed.

  Yet there hadn’t been a ransom call.

  His stomach flared up again. Before he had questioned Clara, he couldn’t remember taking anything to aid his digestion. Stress usually gathered at the back of his neck but was likely indicative of his normal working environment that placed him in front of a computer.

  He widened his search to Ralph’s family, but nothing stood out. They were all regular working Joes who had no brushes with the law.

  Reaching for the coffee, that, by now, was presumably as cold as milk, he went to take a sip, but hesitated long enough to realize that it wouldn’t help his heartburn. He splayed his fingers over the keyboard and got to work on further researching Meredith’s ex—the Bulldozer.

  “WHAT ARE WE GOING TO do now, Sean? We can’t just keep going farther out to sea.”

  Sean couldn’t face her right now. She’d witness his uncertainty.

  “Sean? Do you hear me?”

  The wind sliced past his ears, due to the speed of the boat, but he heard her just fine. He cut back on the engine and slowed their pace. “I do, darling. I don’t know. I thought we’d have a call by now.”

  “Oh.”

  “What is it?”

  “Your phone.” She didn’t need to finish the thought. The salt water would have destroyed it.

  He reached into his pocket, and the gold coin came out along with his cell. He pushed some buttons and sure enough, it was finished. “We’re going to have to get another one and have the number transferred.”

  “How are we supposed to go back to shore without attracting attention? Even drunk tourists would find it strange we’re on this boat alone.”

  “I’ll take it up there.” Sean pointed toward a dock ahead of them. “Then we’ll take a taxi back to the resort.”

  Sara dangled Jimmy’s phone. “It’s dead. I was thinking we could call to see if they had any messages for us. Then we could just give them Jimmy’s number. I left my phone back in our room. I was trying to travel lighter.”

  “It’s all right, darling. It will all be okay.”

  “If only we had a charger. Or another phone.”

  He could tell that the fact she had left hers behind was really eating at her. He put his arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Everything will be all right. We’ll make a quick stop, get a new phone, have my number transferred over—”

  “Do you know
how long that would take? Forever. We’ll just go back and grab my phone.”

  “That will work.”

  “And what about Paul and the captain?”

  “We can call in an anonymous tip, but my main concern is Jimmy. I have a feeling time is running out.”

  Sara laced her arm through his as he geared up the engine again and the boat picked up speed.

  -

  Chapter 16

  IN SEARCH OF A RIDE

  SEAN TIED THE BOAT AT the dock and helped Sara out. No one seemed to be paying them any attention as they made their way to the road. It was quickly apparent that they were a little farther down from the main hub of Ocho Rios. While there were still beggars and peddlers, there weren’t as many.

  Sean approached a man loaded down with his wares. “Do you know where we could find a taxi?”

  “No, but I have really nice hats for the woman.” He pet a few he carried, smiling at Sara as he did so. “Or a purse.” His goods were made of woven straw with interlaced colored strands in various designs. “Oh,” he went rummaging in a bag, “I also have maracas.” He shook them.

  Sean realized how the peddler had a lot of product to be pushing on a slow street. It must have been expensive to sell on the beach. Sean reached into a pocket to pull out some money and realized his bills were soaking wet.

  “Which one?” The Jamaican set his product down.

  Sara smiled at Sean, and with the eye contact, he suspected she knew what he was doing.

  “Here, you just take this.”

  “What do you want?”

  Insult masked the man’s face and Sean should have known better. “You take this now and we’ll be back to pick something up later. We just need a taxi right now.”

  “You are paying now and picking up later?” It was obviously a foreign concept to him.

  Sean supposed even in America, it often worked in the reverse—have now, pay later. “Yes. We’re in a hurry.”

  “You are in Jamaica. No hurry. No problem. Don’t worry, be happy.” Another award-winning smile.

  “We will be back. Where can we get a taxi?”

  The man pointed to a place not too far down the street.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” The man counted the cash and slipped it into a pocket before he worked at picking up all his items again.

  More people tried to stop Sean and Sara as they made their way down the road, but Sean fended most of them off with a raised hand. One man grabbed Sean’s arm, though, and forced him to stop.

  “You buy gold for your beautiful woman.” This man leered at Sara, without any attempt to hide it.

  “We just need a ride back to our resort.” Sean took a step, but Sara pulled back on him.

  “Darling, I wouldn’t mind seeing what he has.” She connected eyes with him and he figured out why she was interested.

  “Yes, all right, then.”

  “This way, mon.” He butted his head toward a storefront. Its sign hung on an angle and the words No Problem were painted on it.

  Sean directed Sara to enter ahead of him. The place smelled similar to cannabis, but he surmised it may have been sage and other spices mixed together in an incense. The hairs on Sean’s arm prickled up and Sara tucked into his side.

  “Now, my gold is the finest quality.”

  For selling high quality, no one else was in the store. Something wasn’t right here.

  “Let us see some quickly, but then we have to go. We have people waiting for us,” Sean said.

  The Jamaican smiled. “In such a hurry. Americans.” He went behind the counter, pulled up a case, and opened it toward Sean and Sara. “See, beautiful, yes?”

  Inside were gold bars and coins.

  Sean’s heart thumped in his chest as he went to pick up a coin. “May I?”

  “Yes, yes, please.”

  He studied the engraving on the coin and held it for Sara to see. “What do you think, darling?”

  Her eyes widened. She noticed it too. It was the same as the one he had in his pocket—the same one that was found where Jimmy had been taken.

  Sara’s expression triggered a reaction in the Jamaican, who shoved the case under an arm and bolted out a back door.

  Sean tore after him, his running shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor.

  -

  Chapter 17

  RUMINATING

  HOURS HAD PASSED SINCE HIS captors last came to see him, leaving Jimmy alone with his thoughts. They had tossed him a bottle of water and had given him a plate of chopped-up coconut, but the quantities weren’t sufficient to satisfy even his waning appetite.

  He was still trying to figure out why him and why here. Was it as simple as someone overhearing something? He had replayed everything from two days ago—the snorkeling, the glass-bottom boat, Dunns Rivers Falls. Nothing sparked. As he let his mind wander to their adventures from the day before that, he thought back to the plantation tour. Images began to come into focus. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of what he heard, but rather what he’d seen.

  Three men had been talking near a concession stand. Jimmy now remembered that they’d noticed him and had glared. He had taken it as a sign to mind his own business, but his cop instinct also knew something else was transpiring.

  If only he could solidify his thoughts. Between the heat and lack of nutrients, he operated somewhere close to vertigo. Sweat formed in beads on his forehead and he walked to the small window, eager for a soft breeze to ripple through. Even a subtle movement of air was better than nothing.

  His mind went back to the three men. Neither of the men who had come to talk to him here was one of those three. Maybe he was wasting his time thinking any of this tied back to the plantation, yet he was determined to figure it out. Otherwise, he had a feeling he’d pay with his life.

  While his captors hadn’t killed him—yet—he suspected they were biding their time for some purpose. Did it have to do with Meredith, and if not, was she still alive?

  A glimmer of hope snaked through him. She would have called Sean and Sara. The flash of promise withered with a stab of betrayal—maybe he had trusted Meredith too soon. What was he thinking bringing her all the way here without conducting a background on her?

  Trust was the word Sara had encouraged him to rely upon—that and instinct. Had both failed him? Could it be that Meredith had orchestrated all of this? If so, for what purpose?

  Still, this seemed too organized—and local.

  Of course, he didn’t know Meredith’s past, but her skin was ivory. Was it possible to rule out her heritage, and possible connections, on that alone?

  Did his kidnappers know about Sean and Sara’s wealth and figure they could leverage him in exchange? Did they take him for money? He dismissed that notion. They hadn’t demanded he speak into a phone or record a video as proof of life. That would be the first thing the McKinleys would request.

  No, his captors’ plans went beyond extortion.

  He closed his eyes and brought up the faces of the three men. All were black. One was shorter than the rest, about five foot five. There was nothing distinctive about his facial features. The second man was well over six feet tall. His build was broad and his arms bowed out at his sides, even in a relaxed state. His nose was large and wide, drawing the eye immediately to it. Still, there was nothing that clicked into place. If these men had anything to do with his past, he couldn’t see how.

  Jimmy took a deep breath and opened his eyes, letting them trace over the water. Somewhere in his absent gaze, the image of the third man came to him.

  He was average everything, but Jimmy’s attention was on his eyes. There was something about them that was familiar. Was that possible or was he going mad?

  -

  Chapter 18

  GETTING SOME ANSWERS

  THE JAMAICAN HAD THE
DISTINCT advantage of knowing where he was going. Sean, on the other hand, had acted on impulse and followed the man out of the store. He’d had gold coins like the one Sean had in his pocket. It was too much to be a coincidence, wasn’t it?

  Sean hoped that Sara kept up as concerns about her safety washed over him. To glance back, he’d risk slowing his stride. And the Jamaican, the way he was able to maneuver around obstacles so adeptly, made Sean wonder if he was in training for the Olympics.

  Mothers with their children stood in front of their homes and shouted out into the streets. One woman said something about a white man chasing after…she mentioned a name, but it was unique and didn’t immediately register with Sean.

  It had sounded like Demon. If that was his name, maybe that was the reason for his agility.

  “Sean!” Sara yelled for him and it halted his movements.

  He flailed his arms in the air. He’d like to assure himself he had been close to catching the man, but found the thought lacked convincing power.

  Spinning around, Sean saw that Sara wasn’t alone. She held onto a woman he had seen before—the hostess from the restaurant. She was bucking against Sara’s grip but getting nowhere.

  Taking long strides to reach them, Sean was winded when he got there.

  “She’s going to talk to us,” Sara said.

  The girl struggled against Sara.

  “You sure about that?”

  “I will.” The girl’s voice was just above the volume of a whisper as she turned her head this way and that, acknowledging the gawks of those around them.

  Despite their watching eyes, no one was willing to step forward or get involved.

  “Let’s go inside.” Sean took the woman by the arm and led her into the store. Once inside, he released her. “Tell us what you know.”

  “I will not—I cannot—tell you everything.” Her voice trembled.

  “What is going on? Who has our friend?”