“Has the food arrived?” Ryker asked as he walked in.
She didn’t reply. He would see soon enough that only the wine had been served. The Dutchman had changed into a clean oxford shirt and he also wore a shoulder holster from which hung his imposing Desert Eagle pistol. He sat down at the end of the table, right next to her.
“We need to call the police.”
“There is no need for that.”
“No? That’s kind of what they do, Ryker. You get shot at, you call the police. It’s the basis of law enforcement and right now we need a whole lot of enforcement because that shit is against the law.”
“It is unnecessary,” he said nonchalantly as he tasted the Pinot Noir.
“Oh it’s very necessary. I don’t know if you noticed but someone came toward us in a speedboat and a freakin’ machine gun! They wanted to kill us, Ryker. I’m pretty sure it’s against the law even here in Curaçao. We need to call the police now.”
“All right and what do you think the police will do?”
“Stop them!”
“No, specifically. What will calling the authorities achieve?”
“I don’t know, they’ll investigate.”
She didn’t understand his reluctance. Hadn’t he ever seen an episode of CSI before?
“And you think they will send divers off my beach to try and recover spent cartridges? They will then attempt to match the bullets with others found at crime scenes throughout the Caribbean? It does not work this way, not here.”
“Look, Ryker. I already know that you have some cops working for you.” She still felt the sting of having been handed back to him by a police officer.
“Wrong, I have most of the local police working for me,” he corrected.
“There you go. Don’t tell me they can’t do anything to help you.”
“This is out of their depth, Jessica. Drink some wine, it is excellent.”
“We have to do something!” she howled as he drank again.
“And we will. However, this is a matter best resolved outside of legal channels.”
He was talking about striking back and it appalled her that she didn’t think it was immoral. She wanted revenge as much as he did.
“But how can you handle the situation when you don’t know who did this?”
“Who said anything about not knowing who these people were?”
“You know?”
He grinned but didn’t speak as the chef came into the dining room followed by a waiter. Both were carrying trays which they emptied on the table. There was a fresh, hot loaf of bread cut into thick slices, piping hot and smelling absolutely divine, a garden salad smothered in French dressing, and two plates covered by shiny metal domes.
“What have you prepared for us this evening?” Ryker asked pleasantly.
“Seafood-stuffed crêpes in mornay sauce with melted gruyere, served with rice. Enjoy.”
“Dank je wel!”
The chef and the waiter removed the covers simultaneously and walked away. Ryker smiled and inhaled the steam rising from the creamy dish.
“It looks delicious, does it not?”
“You really know who shot at us?”
“Salad, Jessica?”
He didn’t wait for an answer and filled her bowl with leafy greens. She was getting mad that he was delaying his answers and calmed herself by drinking wine. She swallowed half her glass and the warmth in her belly was soothing.
Ryker began eating in the European fashion, cutting a piece of crêpe and shoving it in his mouth with his left hand, without switching utensils. She gave up and started on her salad.
“Good?”
It actually was and she nodded. Then she tried the seafood course and it melted in her mouth, so rich and tasty. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was and she lost herself in the food.
Ryker glanced at her and when he saw that her mind wasn’t on the shootout anymore he spoke again.
“The people who came after us are from Columbia. There is only one organization crazy enough to come after me, the men of Bernardo Baiz. He is from Barranquilla and has been challenging my operations for almost two years.”
“Columbia? Is he the one you smuggled drugs for?”
“For a time. When I stopped, he decided to get revenge on me. He not only wants to get physical revenge but he wants to infringe on my business. He wants the monopoly of illegal shipping in the Caribbean.”
“Why don’t you just tell him he can have your smuggling? I mean, you already said you don’t do it much anymore. What’s the point of continuing?”
“Because no one stops working for Bernardo Baiz when they are alive. It is personal with him.”
“And he wants to kill you?”
“I think annihilate is a better term.”
He went back to eating as if nothing was wrong. She herself took a few bites but discovered her appetite was vanishing.
“Has he… Has he done this before?”
“We have had skirmishes in the past. He burns one of my ships, I sink one of his. So far we have been cordial to one another.”
“Cordial? He was shooting at us with machine guns, Ryker!”
He shrugged. “It happens. In any case, I want to let you know that you are free to leave.”
“You want me to go?”
“No, I do not want you to go but you are free to do so if you choose.”
She looked up in surprise. She was at once elated and somehow disappointed. Then she remembered what had triggered this whole adventure.
“Will you help me find Daphne?”
“Finding Daphne is not much of a problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“At this point, I am certain Baiz is holding your friend.”
“What?!” she exclaimed while standing up.
“Calm down, Jessica.”
“Tell me what the hell is going on!”
He nodded and stood up. He took his drink and the bottle of wine. “Bring your glass and follow me.”
Before she could protest, he left the dining room. She was in a daze as she grabbed her wine and followed him. They went to a topical sunroom, three sides and the slanted roof made up of windows. At the moment they were all open and screens were keeping the bugs out. The air temperature was perfect.
There were plants and flowers everywhere and hidden speakers played trip hop such as Bittersweet Faith. She knew instantly he had brought her here to pacify her. The worst part was that it was working.
Ryker sat in a wicker chair and she had no choice but to sit across from him on a matching loveseat, putting her glass down on the low coffee table. Stoically, he topped off both their glasses.
“What’s going on, Ryker?”
“I did not know before but I have started putting pieces of the puzzle together. Daphne disappeared while she was on my shipwreck. Today I have sent my men to Klein Curaçao and the diamonds that were stashed there were gone. It is my deduction that your friend stumbled upon Baiz’s people stealing my diamonds.”
“Why did they take her then? Why didn’t they just kill her and leave?”
“They most likely wanted to bring unsolicited attention on me, anything to make my job in tracking them down more difficult.”
Jessica nodded as she thought about this. If they hadn’t killed Daphne then it meant that she was still alive. They were holding her for some reason.
“Then we need to get her back. Will you help me, Ryker?”
He drank most of his wine, looked at her intently, and nodded. “I will make a deal with you.”
“Anything!”
“Be careful of the word anything. Do you not remember what happened the last time you said that?”
“I’m serious,” she said, finally meaning it.
“I know. At the moment I am in… how do you say… a bind. There is Baiz messing with my business and the CIA threatening to crack down on my activities if I don’t deliver the diamonds to Venezuela. Now I don’t have the diamo
nds.”
“Can’t you just explain that to the CIA?”
“They are very much a result-oriented organization. Excuses do not sit well with them. What I need is time. We will get the diamonds and Daphne back but I need you to help me ease pressure from the CIA.”
“And you think I can do that?”
“I think you can do anything, Jessica.”
Good, she thought. That makes one of us.
Chapter 15
She wanted to get things started right away but the Dutchman almost laughed in her face. It was too late and they both needed rest. She spent the night in her room – the door open, this time – and was glad he didn’t suggest she slept with him again. As much as she had enjoyed her time with him this afternoon, she needed time to think.
At first light, she showered and got dressed in her blouse and capri pants from two days ago. They felt dirty on her and she wished Ryker and his men had stolen more items from her hotel room. She went downstairs intending to sneak out but found Ryker was already up.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
She had and nodded. Exhaustion had trumped her frayed nerves.
“Tell me what I need to do to help you with the CIA. I’ll get some clothes from my hotel and get right on it.”
He insisted she had breakfast first but she only had a banana and coffee as she listened to his instructions. It sounded remarkably simple but the execution was what scared her. She could screw everything up with one bungled word. Daphne’s life was in her hands.
“All right, do I have to call a taxi or can I get one from the road?”
“Do not be silly, I can drive you back to Willemstad.”
“I think it’d be best if I was alone,” she said, fighting the uncertainty that devoured her. “It would be better if we weren’t seen together for what I have to do.”
He nodded and came closer to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and stroked them tenderly.
“I think you are right. I can have Max drive you or…” He paused. “Would you rather I put a car at your disposal?”
“Actually, yeah. I think I’m getting the hang out the streets around here. Thank you.”
He looked at her for a little longer and she braced herself for the eventual kiss. And yet she didn’t even want one. Although his mouth felt better than anyone’s she was unsure as to where she stood with him. Now wasn’t the time to think about relationships. When he let go without kissing her she was disappointed.
That bastard! Was he playing with her? And why was she even mad?
“Let’s go,” she said, turning away before her face revealed her feelings.
Ryker gave her the keys to a black Range Rover and directions for today’s itinerary. When she sat behind the wheel, he had her lower her window and he leaned on the door.
“Please be careful, Jessica. And be tough. But if things become too dangerous for you I want you to back away. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she whispered, moved by his words.
Without hesitation, he poked his head in the vehicle and kissed her fast and hard on the mouth. He turned back and walked away before she could say anything.
* * *
The valet took her car and she felt terrible she didn’t have small denomination bills handy for the young man. She had never used valet service before but didn’t people in movies tip? Or maybe it was after when you picked your car up?
She stopped worrying about it and went into the hotel, determined to make it up to him later. Mostly she thought about the kiss from earlier. The kiss she hadn’t wanted, hadn’t expected, and now couldn’t get out of her head. Beneath his cool facade, Ryker was a keenly passionate man and she wondered how long she had to wait until she could completely give herself to him without losing her dignity.
She hurried through the lobby and stopped at the front desk.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, good morning!” the perky receptionist said in greeting. “How may I help you?”
“Do you have any messages for Jessica Densley?”
She typed into her computer and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.”
“What about my friend, Daphne Stebleton?” She gave the room number. “Anything for her?”
She didn’t have much hope but figured it didn’t hurt to ask. Maybe it was a misunderstanding after all. Or maybe the kidnappers would attempt to communicate.
“No messages for Daphne Stebleton either. Can I ask how you’re enjoying your vacation to Curaçao.”
“It’s awesome,” she replied without even the hint of a smile.
“Jessica?”
She turned toward the voice and nearly fainted. In front of her was a clean-cut American wearing dark shorts and a lime green V-neck T-shirt on which was a large moose. After years with her ex-boyfriend, she knew the entire Abercrombie & Fitch line by heart.
“Greg? What are you doing here?”
She walked toward him and they silently found a quiet spot away from other guests. She couldn’t stop blinking from shock.
“I’m so glad to see you, that you’re all right!”
Before she knew it, he took her into his arms and hugged her tight. She was out of breath when he finally let her go.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again.
“You called me.”
“I left you a message, you never called me back.”
It dawned on her that she hadn’t checked her voicemail in two days, what with being held hostage and all.
“I saw how worried you were in your message, Jessica. I can tell when you’re trying to sound normal and when you’re actually not.”
“And you decided to hop on a plane and fly to the Caribbean?”
“I called you back but you didn’t return my call. I phoned the hotel and they had nothing to tell me. I called Daphne and got nothing but damn voicemail. This ain’t your style, I knew something was wrong.”
Jessica shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. You came here for nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
He took her hands in his and gazed down into her eyes. He reminded her of Ryker in that instant but in a less polished way. Mostly she remembered how Greg would do that to her when she was stressed about exams or term paper deadlines. It was like his mere presence was enough to calm her down.
She remembered entire weekends spent at his family’s cabin in West Virginia where she was supposed to get work done but mostly spent time worrying about procrastinating. He would hold her against him and tell her that everything was going to be all right. At the time, she thought no man could ever be this perfect.
“Everything is fine, Greg.”
“Where’s Daphne?”
She didn’t want to worry him and specifically she didn’t want to involve him in this. It was already too dangerous.
“She’s with a guy, what do you think. It was all a big misunderstanding. I’m sorry you had to come all the way here.”
“I’m not,” he drawled, squeezing her hands gently. “I miss you, you know.”
Her lips moved as she struggled to form a coherent response and obviously she was making a fool of herself in front of yet another man. Her best defense was Daphne.
“Look, there’s somewhere I gotta be right now.”
“But you just got here! I saw you walking in from outside.”
“It’s complicated. I have to go change and then I’m going back out.”
He shook his head. “There’s something you ain’t telling me, Jessica. It’s just like your phone call, I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m expected somewhere.”
She pulled her hands free and turned to leave. He grabbed her shoulder before she was out of reach.
“Can I go with you?”
“No, you can’t.”
“Come on, I just flew I don’t know how many thousand miles to be here.”
“I didn’t ask you to com
e.”
“Jessica…” he pleaded in that special way of his that always broke her heart.
“We can… We can have lunch together. Around noon, at the hotel restaurant.”
“Okay, at noon. We were good together before, weren’t we?”
He continued looking at her with his sad puppy dog eyes and she did her best to break the spell.
“I have to go.”
She hurried away to the elevators.
Chapter 16
Dressed in khakis and a dark close-fitting tee, Jessica went to Hato International Airport on the outskirts of Willemstad. It was one of the largest airports in the Caribbean and because the west part was a US Air Force forward operating base, security was tighter than expected. In fact, it felt like home.
She headed away from the passenger terminal and drove to a small hangar not far from the unfortunately-named Kustwacht Caraïbisch Gebied, also known as the Dutch Caribbean Coast Guard. In the distance, amid the imposing airliners, she spotted an AWACS aircraft on the runway, ominous with its circular radar mounted on top.
“Relax, Jess,” she mumbled to herself. “It’ll be fine if you don’t screw up.”
She laughed nervously at her stupid wisdom. She read the sign on the hangar – Queen Emma Helicopter Tours – and parked. Just as she came out of the Range Rover, a middle-aged man wearing a light blue flight suit came out to meet her. An embroidered name tag on his chest read Esteban.
“Si?”
“Hi, I’m looking for Sam Tollefsrud.”
“Don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Oh,” she said mildly flustered. She had prepared a million answers for a million questions but not this one. Then she remembered Ryker’s advice from this morning: be tough. “I was told this man worked here.”
“No, I’m sorry. You have wrong place.”
Jessica straightened up and balled her fists to give herself courage. She came closer to the man.
“Take me to Sam Tollefsrud right now or I’m going to tweet about you.”
“Tweet?” he repeated, amused.
“Wouldn’t it be awesome if the entire world knew that Queen Emma Helicopter Tours was actually a CIA front?”
“I… I…” he stammered.
“It’s all right, Esteban. I’ll take it from here.”
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