The man nodded and desisted. Jessica had no idea where he went because she stared at a woman coming out of the hangar. She was insanely tall and slim, her jet black hair flowing with the wind in spite of the designer sunglasses perched on her head. Even though she was wearing jeans and a snug halter top, the way she sashayed forward made her look glamorous.
“Good morning, how can I help you?”
Her accent was definitely American, somewhere near Boston. That made Jessica realize who she was.
“You’re Sam Tollefsrud.”
“And you’re about to tell me your name.”
The woman was roughly 30 and she had the most charming smile. Jessica wasn’t often awestruck by other women but she couldn’t help thinking this one could have been a supermodel.
“I’m Jessica Densley.”
Tollefsrud extended her hand and Jessica had no choice but to shake it. She was disoriented, having expected a man. She had been prepared to flirt with him to get her way – however that was done – but now her plan was annihilated.
“And you’re here for a helicopter tour? You’re in luck, we’re having a promotion this week.”
“I’m here about something else. I’m here to tell you to back off Ryker Prins.”
“Ryker Prins?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m pretty sure you heard me before about my ability to tweet your CIA front away.”
The woman grinned. “Let’s go inside, it’s hot as hell out here.”
She turned around and went back inside the hangar. Jessica had no other option than to follow her. She looked at Esteban as he worked on a helicopter engine and the man stared back with a pained expression as if he felt sorry for her for having to deal with Samantha Tollefsrud.
“This way.”
Jessica trailed the woman into an office and the door was closed behind her. The place was cluttered, the small desk covered with disorganized paperwork and the walls papered with maps and aviation posters. Tollefsrud sat behind the desk and crossed her arms.
“Sit down, please.”
“I’m good.”
“Okay. I’d offer you coffee but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be up to your standards. Hell, it’s not up to anyone’s standards. I’m surprised it doesn’t come with an FDA warning, or whatever the local equivalent is.”
“I want you to stop harassing Ryker Prins.”
“Yes, you said that already. I was hoping you’d find something new to say now that we’re out of the burning sun.”
“There are mitigating circumstances and it will be a little while before he can do that thing for you.”
“That thing?” Tollefsrud asked. “What could you ever be referring to?”
Jessica felt her blood boil. That woman was deliberately playing with her when it was already painful to say these words.
“The delivery to Venezuela will have to wait.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jessy. Is that what your friends call you, Jessy?”
“You will sit tight, you won’t call Ryker, you won’t put diplomatic pressure on the authorities to harass him or his business.”
“Is that so, Jessy?”
“In fact, I want you to fly out of Curaçao right now.”
Tollefsrud’s smile widened. “How long have you been sleeping with him?”
“E-Excuse me?”
“How long have you been fucking him, Jessy? One day, two days, since you got off the plane from Alabama?”
“I…” What was up with these questions?! “I’m from Virginia.”
“Virginia, right. Is that what your daddy taught you in Virginia? Find a rich and powerful man while on vacation and ride him cowgirl into the sunset?”
“How dare you!”
“I can’t really fault you, you know,” Tollefsrud conceded as she stood up. “Ryker is quite the specimen. Many a woman has lost it around him. Did he do that thing to you where he kisses you while his hand is between your legs but not quite touching you down there?”
Jessica gasped and hated herself for showing her reaction. That woman had slept with him as well, there was no other way she could know these things.
“Leave the island today. Should be easy, you have a helicopter.”
“Oh Jessy, don’t you feel bad that he’s having you do his dirty work for him?” She slowly walked around the desk toward her. “Aren’t you wondering why he sent you here when he could have called me himself? He has my number, you know.”
Tollefsrud was now standing directly in front of her, towering over her, and she felt like a little girl being bullied at school. That’s when she remembered she never put up with this mean-girl bullshit.
“You have 24 hours to leave this island, Samantha. Not a second longer.”
“And what ever will happen if I’m still here tomorrow? You’ll break out your nail file and go gangsta on me?”
“I won’t get my nail file. I’ll get a computer connection. I’ll call every media outlet about the CIA operating illegally out of a front business in friendly Curaçao.”
Tollefsrud burst into laughter. “And you think the New York Times will care about some minor operation on a two-bit island? You think they’ll even take your call.”
“No, the New York Times won’t care. But the local papers will. De Telegraaf newspaper in Amsterdam will definitely care. The Dutch play a major role in European politics and that alone can give your CIA buddies a major headache. And then there’s the matter of whether or not I’ll hold my tongue and tell them what you intend to do in Venezuela. Sometimes I speak before I think. So you can do as I say or you can live with the consequences.”
The woman’s face hardened into a snarl. She leaned into Jessica.
“You think you’re a real southern belle, don’t you? You think you have this all figured out. But you’re out of your depth. You don’t wanna mess with me because I can be a mean bitch with the best of them.”
“That’s not hard to believe. Thank you for cooperating, Samantha. Please be gone before tomorrow.”
Jessica nodded in the most courteous way possible and turned around. She was shaking all over as she walked out of the tiny office.
She took her time coming back. She hadn’t threatened anyone since elementary school when the height of disrespect involved speaking ill of one’s mother. She couldn’t believe she had actually gone through with this though she doubted it would do much good. After all, if she was a member of the Central Intelligence Agency – a genuine badass spy – Jessica would be the first not to be intimated by some tourist on a power trip.
And then there was what that woman had said about Ryker’s motivation. Had he sent her to help his cause or did he have some ulterior motive? Was he setting her up for something? Had he orchestrated this so she could take the fall for his wrongdoings? What if she was part of an elaborate misdirection?
She shook her head and turned on the radio. She listened to Sara Bareilles singing Uncharted to clear her head. It was already done, there was no sense in rehashing this morning’s events. Besides, she’d do anything to get Daphne back. Once you got kidnapped and shot at, your moral compass tended to be out of whack.
Geez, my whole life is out of whack…
Chapter 17
She didn’t call Ryker to tell him how things had gone. She didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. The notion of him having sex with that vile woman gave her hives. Obviously, knowing men, they’d probably camp out in front of her house for the slightest chance sleeping with her. But Ryker? A man who could get anyone he wanted? Jessica was disgusted.
She put him out of her mind as she pulled into the hotel. She had other concerns, like Greg. He’d come here out of the blue, and while his concern was sweet, she didn’t know how to feel about that. She didn’t know how to feel about anything these days.
“Good morning again, miss,” the familiar valet said in greeting as she stepped out of the SUV.
“Hi. This time I didn’t forget you.”
She gave him $10 and he beamed at both the amount and the fact that she had remembered to make up for her earlier faux pas. His sparkling smile was the only thing that made her feel good.
It was just after eleven so the hotel was somewhat quiet. Vacationers who had finished breakfast and brunch were now on the beach somewhere and the lunch crowd hadn’t yet arrived. So walking to the elevator her eyes were drawn through the panoramic windows to the restaurant terrace. There was no missing Greg and his loud T-shirt.
She’d half wished he would be gone by now, seduced by the turquoise ocean or some blonde Swedish tourist. She had never been good at relationship drama and always did her best to avoid it. But now there was no way to do that. He’d flown here to see her and it would have been rude to ditch him.
She went outside and headed for his table. A waiter wasn’t fast enough to intercept her and gave up. When she got to the table, in the comfortable shadow of the wide parasol, Greg stood up with a visibly pleased expression.
“Jessica, I’m so glad you came back!”
“As opposed to go where?” she retorted. “I’m sorry I’m being snarky. Just had a rough morning.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
He sat down and she did the same. There was a gentle breeze and she felt herself relax for the first time in days.
“Not really. I guess I’m just stressed about…”
“About what?”
Damn it, she had almost spilled the beans about Daphne being abducted. She didn’t need to involve anyone else at this point.
“Nothing.”
“No, tell me. I knew something was wrong when you called me and that’s why I came. Did something happen to Daphne?”
“Of course not! Just drop it, okay?”
The waiter came to their table and handed a menu to her as he droned on about the day’s lunch specials.
“I don’t want anything,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Come on, this is a vacation. I’ll have another Bloody Mary. Bring her one too.”
Jessica was about to protest but then decided it wasn’t such a bad idea. She nodded to the waiter and he took off.
“Well damn! I didn’t think you’d say yes. You, drinking alcohol before noon? Somebody unwadded your panties, like totally.”
“Shut up,” she said, unable to stop herself from smiling.
“So,” he began after draining the last of his red libation. “Where did you go this morning?”
“I’d rather not talk about it if that’s all right.”
“I don’t wanna pry, Jess.”
“Like hell you don’t.”
He smirked at that. “All right, you know me too well. It’s just, you gotta admit it’s a little weird. I mean, you’re on vacation and you’re running off like your tail’s on fire. Not to mention that you were out of the hotel that early in the morning. It ain’t like normal vacations. It ain’t like you. I’m just baffled, is all.”
“Maybe I changed, Greg. Maybe I’m no longer the quiet house cat everybody thinks I am.”
“Maybe. For what it’s worth, I never thought that’s all there was to you. But now you got yourself a mystery and yes, you got me mighty curious.”
“Can we change the subject, please? I’m not hiding anything from you and I’d just like to talk about something else.”
“Okay,” he said calmly as the waiter came back with the drinks.
She hated lying to him, something she’d actually never really done before. As much as she disliked him being here, she didn’t want to embroil him in something dangerous. He had been nice enough – chivalrous enough – to fly down here just to make sure she was all right. That counted for something and he didn’t deserve getting dragged into this awful mess.
Jessica took a long pull from the Bloody Mary and did her best not to choke in front of him. The thing was 90% vodka, she was certain of it, and the remaining 10% was pure hot sauce. Nevertheless, once her throat stopped burning she had to admit that the drink was settling her down. She felt warmth in her belly and it made her relax.
“So, have you started dating again?”
“You’re asking about my love life?” he asked incredulously. “You sure you wanna hear about that?”
“I asked the question, didn’t I?”
“Okay then, you asked for it. You’ll be sorry to hear that I’m presently unattached. There was this girl I was seeing but I had to bail.”
“You had to bail? What did she do, set your car on fire?”
“Oh way worse! She had these Pinterest boards about wedding dresses and she started buying baby magazines.”
“Everybody does that, Greg. Girls talk about these things starting in middle school.”
“She brought up the subject after our third date.”
Jessica burst into laughter and he joined in. It felt good to have her mind on something else.
“You should write a book, Jess. You gotta be the least psycho girlfriend I ever had. You should totally write a book about that, give other girls some pointers. You’d make a fortune.”
“Right, who would buy a book for me? I can see the back cover: Woman who’s had three relationships in her life has all the answers! I think I’ll pass.”
They laughed some more and drank. She felt good, at peace. She felt guilty about sitting here by the sea, enjoying cocktails with her ex-boyfriend, when Daphne was being held somewhere by dangerous men. She should be out searching, out doing something, and yet she was tired. She just wanted to take a break from all this craziness, if only for a little while.
“Would I be way out of line if I told you that I miss you, Jess?”
“Greg…”
“No, don’t tell me to forget it. Think about the years we were together. Were they bad years? Honestly?”
“No,” she whispered.
He looked at her like he had in the past, his eyes speaking volumes about his emotions, his intentions. That look had always been reserved for her and today she felt it into her bones. She found him extremely sweet.
“Remember when we used to go camping down in the Blue Ridge?”
“I still hate camping.”
“But you loved nights in the tent!”
She drank her Bloody Mary in the hopes he wouldn’t see her blush. They’d had some wonderful times in that tent and even though they weren’t together anymore she couldn’t deny how much she had learned from him, how much she had learned about herself.
“Tell me, Jess. Tell me you don’t miss it, not even a little bit.”
She was desperately trying to find a way out of answering when the waiter came back.
“Is everything all right? Would you like to order something to eat?”
“Yes,” Greg replied. “We’ll have lunch and more drinks.”
She didn’t have the will to turn him down and accepted. The truth was Greg was proving to be a good diversion, something she urgently needed at the moment.
Chapter 18
The lunch was long, longer than Jessica had expected it to be. Ryker called her three times but she never picked up her phone. This was her time, she needed to rest. She needed to be disconnected from this week’s craziness. She didn’t belong to Ryker no matter what they had done together.
Most of all, she needed to assert herself. Simply by not answering the phone she was taking a stand, making a statement. No one owned her.
“It’s been nice, Greg. I really mean that.”
“You don’t think it was insane as hell flying down to this place – what’s it called, Crazy Cow?”
“Curaçao. And yes, it was definitely crazy for you to come.”
“Crazy good or crazy bad?”
Jessica grinned and rolled her eyes. The bill already taken care of, she stood up and walked away. Greg quickly fell in next to her.
“You ain’t gonna answer my question?”
“It’s a trick question and you’re not gonna trip me up.”
She was into the hallway wh
en she realized she was heading for her room. It made sense to freshen up there.
“Are we going anywhere particular?” he asked when they entered the elevator.
“I’m hoping you’re going to your room so I can go to mine.”
“Oh, that’s how you roll now.”
“Yep.”
“I see. Then I’d better walk you to your door, being gentleman-like and all.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. She led the way to her room and stopped in front of her door, keycard in hand.
“So, this is where the magic happens, uh?”
“I don’t remember you being this cheesy, Greg.”
“I know, I’m improving. It was really nice spending time with you again. I hope that means we can stay in touch.”
“I’m moving to Colorado when I go back to the States.”
“You say that like it’s an issue. You know I’ve talked often about moving out west.”
“Greg…”
She didn’t have time to finish her sentence. He took her face into his large, rough hands and held her still while he moved in for a kiss. She was floored when his lips crushed against hers. She whimpered so he would stop but he took that as pleasure and therefore encouragement.
When he let go she was out of breath and totally confused. She looked at him, blinking half-wittedly.
“Why did you do that?”
“’Cause I couldn’t help myself, Jessica.”
“It’s wrong, we shouldn’t…”
She turned around and opened the door. She walked into the room and let go of the door secretly hoping she wouldn’t hear it close. It didn’t, not right away. Greg had followed her in.
Before she turned to look at him, she remembered some of the best memories she had of him, of their days together. She especially recalled a rainy afternoon in his apartment two years ago. She had to study and he had vowed to use his free time to bake her a chocolate cake.
After about an hour of listening to him banging pots in the kitchen where the Betty Crocker recipe promised a short and effortless process, she went to investigate. There were dishes everywhere, chocolate powder on every surface. She realized that if she wanted cake tonight they’d have to go buy one.
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