She wasn’t waiting for him this time.
He jumped to his feet and caught up with her halfway to the parking lot.
“Taki, wait,” he called.
She paused beneath a streetlight and turned to look at him questioningly.
So she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He would have walked away from any other woman.
“I’m sorry if I insulted your guru,” he said. “I had no right.”
Her eyes widened, and he could tell the apology surprised her. Flustered, she lowered her gaze and shifted her stuffed yoga bag from one arm to the other.
Knowing it had to be heavy, he took the bag from her and slung it over his own shoulder.
“Thanks,” she said, meeting his gaze again, now smiling.
“So am I forgiven?”
“Of course. You don’t know Navi.”
Reese didn’t correct her, but Taki was wrong. Courtesy of a second, more thorough search of government computers and databases, he now knew her guru probably better than she did. And from everything on record, Guru Navi was an honest, holy man.
“I did it again,” she said, shaking her head.
“What?” he asked, trying to follow her train of thought but distracted by the light reflecting off her blond hair.
“Judging you. I expected you to say something mean about Navi, and then you apologized. I have to remember not to prejudge people. Especially you.” As she arranged her long hair in front of one shoulder, Reese remembered the feel of her supple hands on his back.
“May I walk you to your car?” he asked. He quirked an eyebrow. “Just in case there are thieves lurking in the night.”
They took a few steps in silence while he wrestled with whether to tell her Javi had uncovered a link to Izzo, but decided not to raise her hopes about recovering the bowl. The lead could go nowhere.
“Did you enjoy class?” she asked as they strolled across the lit parking lot.
“Very much,” he said. “I think you’re right about my need to relax. Lately I’ve been unproductive at work.”
She nodded, her hair catching the glow from the streetlight again. “You need balance in your life, not all work and not all play.”
“I know a way you can help me with that.”
“Me?” she asked. “How?”
They’d arrived at her Jeep, and Taki rummaged through her cloth purse. Reese smiled at her confusion. She seemed to be having a great deal of difficulty finding something.
He saw what looked like a ball of keys in a pocket of the hoodie she wore and poked the lump with a finger. “Is that what you’re looking for?” he asked.
She slipped a hand into the pocket and withdrew her keys. “Thanks. Someday I’ll get organized.”
Reese reached out and clasped her other hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ve heard about a vegetarian restaurant in Aventura called The Unicorn. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“Oh.” Taki opened, then closed her mouth, and looked away. “No, I’m sorry. A fellow yoga teacher asked me to substitute-teach his class Friday night.”
He released her hand, knowing she wasn’t telling the whole truth. Prosecutors studied body language to identify the tells when a witness was evading or hiding something they didn’t want to reveal. Taki probably had a class to teach—he couldn’t imagine her lying outright—but that was only an excuse. She didn’t want to have dinner with him.
Disappointed on a number of levels, he handed her the gym bag. “Too bad. Maybe next time.”
“Yeah, sure,” Taki said, still avoiding his gaze. “Maybe another time.”
* * *
STRANGELY DEFLATED, TAKI slid behind the wheel of her Jeep and watched Reese’s purposeful stride until he disappeared inside SoBe Spa. Just like my father. Always in such a hurry.
Darn Reese Beauchamps. Now she was forced to teach Peter’s class tomorrow night or else have told a lie. In a way, she’d already fibbed since she hadn’t committed to subbing yet.
Inhaling the salty breeze, she strained to hear the roar of the nearby Atlantic Ocean, wave after wave crashing against the sandy beach behind the spa. Like her life, smashing into constant conflict no matter what she did to alter the tumultuous pattern.
Tomorrow would be another perfect day and night in paradise. It would have been lovely to spend the evening with Reese. She wanted to have dinner with him. She shivered as she considered running after him to accept his invitation and wherever it might lead.
When she’d touched him during class, the heat from his body had flowed through her fingers into her arms, creating a unique bond she’d never before experienced with a student. And just now when he’d clasped her hand, she had simply forgotten to breathe.
She remembered the sensation of his touch, reliving the charged, pleasurable shock of the contact. She’d wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted him to pull her into his arms and crush her against his chest.
Disturbed by the erotic flush that warmed her to her fingertips, she glanced at the keys dangling from the ignition and wrapped her hand around the sharp ridges of cold metal.
She’d hated the tight look on his face when she’d turned him down. But she couldn’t go out with Reese. They were all wrong for each other. He made her feel too much, caused her to think about the past she’d run away from. Reese threw her normally placid mind into chaos.
He made her think of her father, of how her father had treated her mother and how destructive her parents’ relationship had been. Just like her mom and dad, she and Reese were too different. They couldn’t help but end up hurting each other.
Taki collapsed against the seat. Victoria was right to caution her to avoid Reese. Refusing his invitation had been the right thing to do.
Taki closed her eyes. I need help.
Since their kiss, she thought more about Reese than her missing bowl. Maybe she should make a trip to Cassadaga and consult her psychic. In fact, she probably should have visited Robin first thing. Even if she couldn’t help locate the bowl, Robin might have some insight about Reese.
Determined to push away negative thoughts, Taki opened her eyes—then froze when her gaze fell on the corner of white paper barely jutting from her gym bag. With a mounting, excited sense of déjà vu, she flipped on the Jeep’s inside light and withdrew a sealed envelope with her name handwritten across the front in block letters.
Where had this come from? Had it been there before Reese took the bag from her? Could he have stuffed the envelope inside?
Another message about her bowl?
She ripped open the envelope and read stiff capital letters, written as if someone were trying to camouflage their writing.
IF YOU WANT TO RECOVER YOUR MISSING PROPERTY, COME TO THIS ADDRESS. DO NOT CONTACT THE AUTHORITIES. COME ALONE.
An address in Homestead, Florida, appeared in bold black ink.
Taki considered and rejected the idea of driving to Homestead immediately. Not a good idea to make the trip at night. She started the Jeep and turned north onto Collins Avenue toward home.
Was it a good idea to go at all? Should she tell Reese?
Yeah, great way to avoid him.
Obviously someone at the spa was responsible for the notes. That much was clear to her now. But who? Benny? He was always around, but so was Debbie. Who else had she seen tonight? Hector? Lourdes?
And of course Reese.
A sick feeling crept into her belly. Couldn’t be.
Reese slipping her this message made about as much sense as Navi tricking her, but Reese had a better opportunity to place the envelope in her bag tonight than anyone. She took a deep breath.
What did she really know about his character, anyway? Maybe he wasn’t what he seemed. She’d heard of plenty of government official
s on the take in Miami. He could have some hidden agenda.
No. Not Reese. She refused to believe that.
Anyone who attended her class was suspect. Hadn’t she babbled endlessly about the trip to Asia and her quest for the bowl? Yeah, and everyone also understood she had no money for ransom, so what was this about? And why didn’t the notes ask for anything? Why was this message made differently? Did the communication come from two different people? Nothing made any sense.
As she drove home, with the cool breeze rushing against her face, knotting her hair into tangles, Taki wondered if Reese had created the note in order to test her, to see if she would contact him.
No, that was ridiculous. The man didn’t have time for silly games. And why would he? But what if he did? What if Reese had some hidden motivation she didn’t understand? Could he somehow be working for her father?
No way. That idea was preposterous. He didn’t know who she was.
At a red light, she bunched her hair into the beret, still thinking about Reese and any possible motives.
That’s all she did—worry about Reese. Victoria was right. To protect her peace of mind, she needed to stay away from him.
Besides, if she told Reese about the second note, what would he do? No question about that. She nodded as she pictured the scene. He’d stop her from driving to Homestead. He’d lock her up if he had to, and she’d lose this chance to recover the bowl. Maybe her last chance.
She’d be extra careful, make sure Victoria knew where she’d gone, take the pepper spray she used when alone in the woods.
Yeah, if he found out, he’d be seriously pissed. She pictured his gorgeous eyes flashing fury, and wished she could smooth away that worry line between them rather than always making it deeper.
She sighed. Reese blurred her focus, and she could no longer permit that. Plus, however unlikely, the timing of this second message made him a suspect.
Taki pulled into the cottage’s driveway confident of her decision. She wouldn’t tell Reese about the second note since she couldn’t totally trust him. She wouldn’t call his FBI agent, either, because Javi would immediately inform Reese. Hadn’t she already raised one false alarm at Puerto Sagua? Anyway, she didn’t have time to wait for an FBI operation, which could take days to coordinate.
She was running out of time. Her father was closing in on her, could locate her any day now. When he did, she’d be forced to pack her Jeep and flee before finding the bowl.
* * *
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Taki pulled her Jeep off a dusty road and braked beside a battered mailbox. She’d gotten lost, had to ask for directions twice, but she’d finally found the address. Or at least she had according to the numbers peeling off the mailbox’s metal housing.
Her gaze traveled the long gravel driveway leading to an old coral-rock house. A trickle of unease traced her spine. Towering royal palms and red hibiscus bordered the entrance. Lush landscaping that hadn’t been trimmed for years isolated the small structure from the roadway.
Planning her next move, she carefully observed the surroundings. South of the driveway sat run-down shade houses, screens torn, some flapping in a gentle breeze. Row after row of tomato plants had been planted in a huge field to the north. Across the street were more rows of another crop where huge, traveling plumes of water glistened in the afternoon sun.
Definitely rural, and not a soul in sight. The lively, crowded atmosphere of Puerto Sagua had been much easier to deal with.
No one except Victoria even knew she’d come here. Was she being foolish?
Taki inhaled deeply, hoping a breathing exercise would calm her pounding heart. She closed her eyes and allowed the rich smell of farmland to fill her senses, the familiar earthy scent transporting her back to her childhood in Rhode Island. Maybe someday she could stay in one place long enough to plant a real vegetable garden again—not the tiny plot of herbs she managed in Victoria’s backyard.
An automobile whizzed by, its speed causing the old mailbox to sway and rattle from the vibration. She eyed the driveway and squared her shoulders. Come into the present moment, girl. Quit worrying about the unchangeable past and an unknowable future.
This was Homestead, Florida, in broad daylight, not some scary nighttime Gothic setting.
A hundred yards to the north a perfectly normal blue van was parked beside the tomato field, apparently broken-down, because the hood was propped open as if someone had been working on the engine. The owner was probably somewhere close by.
She was letting Reese’s paranoia make her crazy. Besides, his bad guys didn’t have anything to do with the disappearance of her bowl. Someone at the spa had taken it, and whoever lived at the end of this driveway knew why. They hadn’t asked for money, so maybe Reese was right that someone was playing a mean trick on her. Why, though? And who’d taken Reese’s briefcase? It was difficult to believe he was involved, but maybe...
Well, she’d just have to ask whoever answered the door. She’d learned to trust her intuition, and instinct told her no one inside that structure would harm her.
Still, she had promised Reese she’d be careful, take extra precautions. She wanted him to open his mind to new ideas. To be fair, maybe she ought to do the same thing. He wanted her to be more practical, so she’d start right here.
She inched the Jeep forward, the tires crunching along the gravel driveway, still wary. At the first sign of trouble she’d throw her transmission into Reverse and zoom backward out of the property.
When she reached the rock house, she turned her vehicle around 180 degrees so the front faced the driveway. Reese would be proud that she’d planned ahead for a quick getaway.
Turning off the ignition, she leaned over the wheel and listened carefully...for what? Birds chirped. A dog barked. A lawn mower sputtered somewhere in the distance.
Did evil make noise?
Disgusted with her hesitation, trusting her gut feelings, she jumped from the Jeep and climbed two steps onto the front porch of the farmhouse. Just in case, she reached in her bag and removed the tiny vial of pepper spray she carried when she foraged for herbs alone.
A heavy wooden door stood open behind an aluminum screen. After two unanswered knocks on the metal frame, Taki yelled, “Hello?”
No answer.
With a backward step, she took a quick peek through the front window. Lace curtains shielded the interior. She couldn’t see a thing.
“Is anybody home?” she yelled.
A nervous cough caught her attention. She looked back to the door, and a heavyset, balding man appeared wearing a loose beige sweater.
“May I help you?” he asked.
With a sigh of relief, Taki reached into her bag and withdrew a photograph. What was I worried about? This is going fine.
“I understand you have some information about this item.”
When the man opened the door and accepted the photograph, Taki stepped into the house beside him.
His eyes widened and darted from the picture toward his right. “Now is not a good time. Please come back later.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I have to get back to Miami and teach a class tonight.”
The man silently mouthed some words and tapped a small bulge on the right side of his chest.
“Are you all right?” she asked, fearing he could be having a heart attack. No time for any herbal remedy. Thank goodness she knew CPR. Was he going to collapse?
“I’m sorry,” he said, way too loudly. “You’ll have to come back another time.” He jabbed a thumb toward his right and raised his eyebrows.
She turned in the direction he pointed and saw nothing but a closed door. When she returned her gaze to the agitated man, he’d become deathly pale.
“I think you should sit down,” she said.
The instant she reached forwa
rd to support him, the closed door burst open. Four clean-cut men ran into the room, their hands wrapped around large guns.
“FBI,” one of them yelled. “Hold it right there.”
Taki shrieked and stepped back, causing the man to lose his balance. As she caught him, she recognized one of the men rushing forward as the FBI agent who’d been with Reese at Puerto Sagua.
What in the world?
“She’s not Izzo,” the man said quickly.
All four men lowered their weapons.
“Who the hell are you?” one demanded roughly.
“She’s Taki.” Reese’s agent holstered his gun.
“You know her, Javi?”
“Yeah,” Javi said, staring at her with a hard look. “She’s come about a bowl.”
* * *
AFTER WORKING OVER an hour on his opening statement, Reese rubbed his eyes and pushed back from the computer. He was getting nothing accomplished, and that was completely unlike him. Normally, he could focus no matter the circumstances.
But waiting to hear from the FBI, his mind constantly drifted away from the evidence in the Romero trial. He was more concerned about the man he hoped to have in custody any minute.
Javi’s sting on the fence in Homestead was happening today. When Izzo showed up to unload hot jewelry, the FBI would be there to question him.
Now maybe he could get Taki’s bowl back. He swiveled away from the screen. No...of course he meant to get his briefcase and its contents back, find out if Romero was involved in the theft. How he’d love to generate more evidence against the terrorist.
He shook his head. Thoughts of Taki were seriously interfering with his work. The biggest trial of his career loomed in ten days, and he couldn’t stop smarting over rejection by a New Age moonbeam with hair softer than a cloud.
He saved his file to a thumb drive, stretched and moved toward the large window on the bay. A gray mist obscured the view. It had started raining two hours ago, the opening salvo of another cold front that would drop the temperature close to freezing tonight.
The South Beach Search Page 10