Island Fire

by Bobbi Smith

  Jon nodded as he took a deep drink. His emotions frozen now, he smiled grimly. "Good. And now I'll take care of my wife."

  "You've answered the question then?"

  Jon met his brother's gaze evenly, and Mitch was startled by the callousness in his expression. "Yes."

  They fell silent then, the murderous rage Jon had felt moments ago replaced by an icy resolve to end his marriage to Catherine.

  Though it was well past midnight and Catherine was in bed, she could not sleep. Her nerves were stretched taut as she waited for Jon's return, for she knew her future was in his hands. Tossing fitfully, she rolled onto her side and huddled beneath the covers.

  "You look very innocent, my dear." Jon's voice cut through the stillness of the night like a knife as he came to stand at the foot of the bed in the darkness.

  Catherine gasped and sat clutching the covers to her bosom. "Jon! I didn't hear you come in!"

  "As I intended, my wife." His gaze was inscrutable.

  "I'm glad you're back. I was worried." Calculatingly, she let the covers drop away to reveal the skimpy lace bodice of her expensive nightdress.

  "It's a little late for that, don't you think?" There was no change in his expression as his eyes raked over her partially exposed breasts.

  "No, Jon. Please, don't say that! Don't say it's too late!" She moved to kneel before him, the position she assumed one of humble submission.

  Though he had been drinking since he'd left her that afternoon, Jon was not drunk. He knew exactly what he was doing when he reached out and grasped her by the hair, forcing her head back so her eyes met his.

  "How lovely you are when you're frightened, Catherine," he said, clearly amused by the fear in her. "Perhaps I should have a taste of this meekness of yours."

  Viciously, he crushed her to him, and as his mouth savaged hers, Catherine tasted blood. He'd kissed her with a fury she'd never expected from him.

  "Jon," she whimpered, in real terror as his grip tightened on her. "You're hurting me."

  "Good," he snarled, grabbing the nightgown by the bodice and ripping it from her in one forceful tear. "That's better. I can see you now—all of you—you deceitful bitch!"

  "Don't do this to us," Catherine pleaded, but he ignored her as he pushed her roughly back onto the bed. "This is all Roland's fault. He threatened me. He said he'd ruin you if I didn't sleep with him."

  Jon laughed loudly, but it was not an amused laugh, more one of cynical satisfaction. "You can stop lying now, my dear."

  "I don't understand. That's the truth, I swear." She groped desperately for some way to convince him.

  "Catherine," he drawled as he loomed over her, "I've put it all together. Don't insult my intelligence with any more of your lies."

  "But—"

  "But nothing! I know the whole truth. You see, Mitch and I had a run-in with Roland earlier today. We discovered that he'd been bringing young Chinese girls into the country to be sold into prostitution, and we put a stop to his operation. Roland did nothing. Now don't you suppose, Catherine, if he had any incriminating evidence against us, he would have used it then, when we canceled his contracts?"

  Silence hung heavily in the room.

  "Ah, you've no answer for me. I thought not." His grin, as he stared down at her, was almost evil. "You see, Mitch was right when he told me not to marry you. He knew just what kind of woman you were. I was too enamored of you to see it then, but I see it now."

  "Jon, you're wrong! I love you!"

  "Is that why Florence has been arranging trysts for you with Roland once a week ever since we married?" he demanded, presenting her with the final damning piece of evidence. When she blanched at his words, he knew the whole truth. "The only thing you loved about me was my money." Jon shook his head in wonder at his own stupidity. "What were you going to do if you became pregnant? Would you have known who the father was?"

  "I—"

  "Shut up! I want you out of here in the morning," he ordered dispassionately. "The servants have been instructed not to allow you to leave with more than one suitcase." He glanced over at her dressing table and seeing her jewel box, he strode to it. "I'll keep these too. I'm sure Roland will provide amply for his mistress. You won't be needing my gifts."

  In shock, Catherine watched him stride across the room.

  Pausing at the door, Jon turned. "Be gone in the morning, Catherine. First thing. You'll be hearing from my lawyers very soon about a divorce. And if you're expecting a settlement, I'm afraid it's out of the question. You've already been paid in full for your services."

  Jon went downstairs, intent on spending the night in the sitting room. He was surprised to find Mabel waiting for him in the hall.

  "Yes, Mabel? Is something wrong?"

  "No, sir. I just wanted to tell you that I've already sent Florence packing and that Toby, Miss Catherine's driver, will be gone at first light."

  "Thank you, Mabel," he told her sincerely. "Were those the only two servants she brought with her?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good. If you see anything around here that belongs to her, I want you to give it to charity. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Mr. Jonathan, I understand," she answered sadly. "Will that be all for tonight?"

  "Yes. I think that's quite enough for one night, don't you?" His smile was sad as he started off down the hall. "Good night, Mabel."

  "Good night, Mr. Jonathan. Just call if you need anything."

  "I'll be fine. You go on to bed," he said as he disappeared into the sitting room.

  Chapter 30

  Espri lay quietly by Mitch's side in the privacy of their bedroom. "Then it's over between Jon and Catherine?"

  Mitch nodded in the darkness. "Whatever doubt he may have had was completely erased when he questioned her maid."

  "Florence?"

  "Yes. It seems that Roland and Catherine were lovers even before she married Jon. Her story about being blackmailed was just a lie she'd invented to try to protect her marriage and the social position it gave her." His tone was heavy with resentment.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. It's just a shame he didn't find out sooner. Catherine's an opportunist and he'll be well rid of her." Mitch thought fleetingly of Andrew.

  "How is he taking it?" Espri remembered Mitch telling her about his friend Andrew, whose wife had left him for a richer man, and she knew he was concerned about his brother.

  "Hard . . . very hard. He really loved Catherine. I wish I could be more help to him, but this is something he's got to work through on his own."

  "Jon's a strong man." Espri tried to sound encouraging. "I'm sure he'll get through this."

  "I hope so, love. I hope so."

  Standing with a sheet wrapped about her, Catherine looked up when the bedroom door opened and she was surprised to see Mabel enter instead of Florence. "I wanted Florence!" she snapped angrily. "Where is she?"

  "She's been let go, ma'am," Mabel answered sharply.

  "Let go! By whom?" Cat demanded, startled.

  "By Mr. Jonathan, ma'am. She's already vacated her quarters."

  "Damn him!"

  "Is there something I can do for you?" The maid's tone was barely respectful.

  "No. Nothing."

  "Then, if you'll excuse me . . ." Mabel left quickly, glad to be away from Catherine. She was most fond of Mr. Jonathan and she found this woman's infidelity and deceitfulness unforgivable.

  Catherine was livid as she watched the servant go. How dare Jon humiliate her this way before the staff! What joy she would feel tomorrow when Roland made his move! She was glad that she'd made an arrangement to get her share of the wealth, for she knew that she was going to need it.

  Suddenly anxious to be gone, Catherine threw off the sheet and quickly dressed. Pacing to the window, she stared out across the darkened city as she awaited the first sign of daylight so she could make her exit. She was determined not to slink guiltily off into the night. When she went, she would go with dignity.


  As she stood there amidst the splendor of her richly appointed bedroom, she had to admit to herself that she had enjoyed her sojourn as Mrs. Jonathan Williams. As Jon's wife, her standing in the community had been above reproach and her funds had been unlimited. Even so, she found the prospect of independence, in light of the money Roland was providing, most appealing. No longer would she have to pretend to love Jon. No longer would she have to suffer his lovemaking while she dreamed of Roland. Her future looked brighter than ever, she decided, and she was actually eager to go forth into it.

  Her single trunk packed to the brim with her best clothing, Catherine was ready to go when the sun finally edged above the eastern horizon. Ringing for a servant, she waited impatiently for someone to come so she could have her belongings carried downstairs and order her carriage brought around. However, when long minutes passed and no one answered her summons, she descended the staircase in search of help. She had just started down the main hall toward the back of the house when she heard someone behind her. Wheeling about, Catherine was startled to find her husband observing her as he leaned negligently against the newel post at the foot of the stairs.

  "My, my," he drawled spitefully. "We're certainly up early this morning, aren't we?"

  "I've nothing to say to you," Cat replied coolly. "I was just looking for a servant to help me bring my trunk down."

  "Please," Jon said sarcastically, "allow me the pleasure."

  She watched in amazement as he mounted the stairs and returned quickly with her things.

  "There you are, Catherine." He set the trunk down heavily. He approached her slowly, his eyes glittering with emotions she couldn't even begin to fathom. "Now, is there anything else I can do to expedite your departure?"

  "You're drunk!" Cat charged in disgust as she smelled the bourbon on his breath. She tried to move away from him, but he grabbed her by the arm and jerked her back.

  "Yes, Catherine, I'm drunk." Jon stared down at her critically and then he frowned. Now that he knew of her unfaithfulness, he found little beauty in her. "But not drunk enough to forget your treachery. As I look at you now," Jon went on, "I find it amazing that I ever thought myself in love with you." He caressed her with insulting familiarity as she fought against him.

  "Let me go!" she spat out, and Jon did, pushing her roughly away.

  Smiling derisively, he told her, "Don't worry, Catherine. I have no designs whatsoever on your body. Roland can have you."

  She glared at him, but he only laughed. "You were leaving?" he prodded her.

  "Yes, and with great pleasure, I might add." She started toward the back of the house again to order a carriage brought around, but Jon called out.

  "There's no point in summoning a carriage. My stables are no longer at your disposal."

  Catherine gaped at him as he opened the door and carried her trunk down to the street in front of the house. Returning, he held the portal open for her and gestured for her to go. "I'm sure at this time of day, you'll be able to hire a conveyance to take you wherever it is you want to go."

  "You can't be serious," she said haughtily.

  "Rest assured, madame, that I am very serious." Jon stood woodenly as she swept past him; then he went back inside, closing the door behind him.

  Roland was surprised to find Catherine seated before his desk waiting for him when he arrived at his office that morning, and he chuckled as he eyed her trunk. "Obviously, Jon didn't believe your story," he observed candidly.

  "Obviously," she drawled, not amused.

  "What do you intend to do?" Roland inquired as he settled in behind his desk and she took the seat opposite him.

  "I really hadn't thought much beyond the moment. Did you take care of my money yet?"

  "Not yet, but I will as soon as the transaction is complete with Mitch and Jon."

  "Good. I'm going to need it to reestablish myself. He's been quite ugly about the whole thing."

  "The trunk is all he let you have?"

  "Yes. I'm quite penniless at the moment," she told him calmly.

  "How much do you need for today, Cat?" Roland took out his wallet.

  "I won't be greedy, darling. Whatever you think it will take to settle me comfortably for a few nights."

  Roland nonchalantly shoved five one-hundred-dollar bills across the desktop to her. "If you need more, just let me know."

  She took the money daintily and placed it in her handbag. Her smile was inviting as she glanced up at him. "I think I may find it quite nice, not to have to worry about Jon all the time."

  "I know I shall," he agreed, his gaze lingering on her.

  "Have you decided how to keep all these happenings from your wife?" Cat asked with interest. "I'm sure she'll be informed that Jon and I are apart."

  "Yes, Chelsea and Emily will waste no time bending Susan's ear with that juicy bit of gossip, but I'm not sure she'll find out the rest. I'm pretty certain that your wonderful husband won't want to spread the word that he's been playing the fool for some time."

  Catherine looked thoughtful. "I suppose we could continue the way we have been. I can just take a room at the Palace for now."

  "Fine. And as soon as the deal goes through, we can see about getting you a house of your own."

  Her lips curved invitingly. "That sounds wonderful."

  "Did Jon say how he was going to handle things?"

  "I'm sure he'll be filing for an annulment. I just hope he doesn't go public with it."

  Roland nodded. "It won't matter after we pull off our plan. You'll be rich, and I'll have control of the company."

  A sudden chill ran down Catherine's spine, and she glanced up quickly. "What if something goes wrong?"

  Her question startled Roland. "How can anything go wrong? We'll grab Espri, keep her locked up nice and safe until the papers are signed. I'll have Williams Shipping, and Mitch will have his wife and a lot of money."

  "But what if Jon and Mitch go to the police?"

  Roland chuckled. "I have a lot of influence there, darling. You needn't worry about that."

  She was pleased by that news. "Wonderful."

  Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to find that it was near nine. "It's almost time to set our little plan in motion. I'd better—" He was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Yes, what is it?"

  The door opened and Bill entered. "We've just received word that the Aurora's been sighted off Point Lobo."

  "Perfect!" Roland came to his feet in a single move, and he turned quickly to Catherine. "Go on to the hotel. I'll check in with you later. Bill, find a carriage for Mrs. Williams, please."

  The guard nodded and then hastened on his errand.

  "But what about our plan?" Catherine didn't want Roland to be distracted from his original purpose.

  "Everything will be taken care of right now. I'll send word to you as soon as I know something."

  "Fine." Cat had been hoping that they would have some time alone that morning, but she now realized that it was not to be.

  "Don't look so worried, darling." Roland came around the desk to kiss her. "When everything has been arranged, I'll come to you."

  "What are you going to do about the Aurora?"

  "I've already arranged with Alan to have my merchandise unloaded before Jon and Mitch are notified of the ship's arrival. There'll be no problem there," he reassured her quickly.

  "The carriage is out back, boss."

  "Good. I'll see you later then." Roland gave her a quick kiss and then sent her on her way. When the conveyance had driven off, he called Bill and Joe into his office.

  "I have an important job for you this morning and I don't want anything—I mean anything—to go wrong. Understand?"

  "Yes, sir." They knew they had better play straight with him this time.

  "This is what I want you to do . . ." Roland quickly outlined his plan for kidnapping Espri, then he handed them the forged note they were to deliver to the house. "As soon as you get her, I want her bound and gagged.
You'd better blindfold her too."

  "But what if she fights us?"

  "Subdue her, but no permanent damage!"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Once you've got her, meet me at the old, deserted Morrow Warehouse."

  "Right."

  "Do you have any questions?"

  "No, I think we've got it. All we have to do is overpower the driver and take her by surprise, so she can't make a fuss."

  "Morrow Warehouse," Roland emphasized.

  "We'll be there."

  Roland watched as they left the office and he felt good about the plan. It was foolproof, and by tomorrow, with any luck at all, he would have complete control of his destiny. Smiling, he headed from the office, eager to meet Alan and the captain of the Aurora at the warehouse and to inspect his newest shipment of "goods."

  Since Jon and Mitch had left for the office over an hour before, Espri had been at loose ends, wondering how to spend her day. The quietude of the morning had seemed stifling, and she was more than pleased when a messenger delivered a letter from Mildred, inviting her for a visit aboard the Providence. Telling Mabel of her plans, she eagerly ordered a carriage brought around to take her to the dock where the ship was berthed. Not being familiar with Jon's help, she did not notice that the driver was one she'd never met before. She allowed the man to assist her into the conveyance, then sat back comfortably as he drove off.

  Bill could hardly believe his luck. Everything was going so smoothly! The stables at the Williams house had been deserted save for one old man, and he had had little trouble overpowering him. After leaving the stablehand bound and gagged, he'd picked up the woman and here he was—just about to rendezvous with Joe. Pulling into the alley where he knew his friend was waiting, he signaled, and Joe quickly jumped into the carriage.

  Espri had been surprised when the driver had turned into a dark, dangerous-looking alley, and she'd been about to protest when the door had flown open and a man had climbed in.

  "What are you doing!" she demanded, suddenly frightened.

  "Shut up, lady, and you won't get hurt."

  But Espri was not faint of heart, and she struck out at him as she screamed. Though he hadn't wanted to hit her, Joe had no choice for she was struggling determinedly with him. When he did so, Espri fell back, unconscious, on the seat.