Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2

by Delores Fossen

  And just like that, she was gone.

  It took Jake several more minutes before his breath returned to normal and he was capable of walking again. Together, he and Faye were like a torch and gasoline—he wasn’t sure which one was which. All he knew was that he had to keep his hands off her. He couldn’t risk something like this happening again. Which meant the next few hours, or days, were going to be sheer hell.

  A few minutes later, with his libido safely under control again—or so he hoped—he left the office and entered the main shop. He hadn’t paid much attention to the store yesterday. But since Faye was on the other side of the room talking to Amy, he took a look around. It was one large rectangular room, with deep, plush royal blue carpet on the floor. Matching blue walls contrasted against the bright white molding on the large picture windows on each side of the door. A long counter ran along the back right side of the store. There wasn’t a cash register anywhere that he could see, but Amy seemed to have taken up residence behind the counter, so that was probably where people would make their purchases.

  Amy gave him a friendly wave. He returned her wave and crossed to the left side of the store to wait by one of the big windows. After looking at the little round tables of displays throughout the room, and the glass shelves that ran along the walls, he still wasn’t quite sure what the shop sold.

  There were two round racks of clothes in one corner, consisting mostly of colorful veiled skirts and form-fitting tops, the kind Faye liked to wear. But other than that, and a window display of jewelry that appeared to be homemade, most everything else seemed to be jars and glass bottles with silver or gold stoppers, or polished round stones and little velvet bags with gold drawstrings decorating nearly every available surface.

  He studied the jewelry in the window then wound his way among the tables, touching the stones, turning them over. He picked up a tiny red velvet bag and tugged the drawstring open, expecting to see powder like Faye had used on CeeCee yesterday. Instead, inside was a vial of amber-colored liquid. He wiggled the little gold stopper open and sniffed. It had a subtle, flowery scent.

  “Be careful with that, unless attracting other men is your goal,” Faye said as she joined him.

  He wrinkled his nose and put the stopper back on the vial.

  She laughed and returned it to the red pouch.

  “You’re saying this is a love potion?” he asked.

  “Not love, exactly. More like an aphrodisiac. It attracts men. I can make you a good deal on one of these, if that’s what you’re interested in.”

  He raised a brow. “I think I’ve already proved where my interests lie.” He stepped away from the table, way the hell away from the red pouch.

  She laughed again and set the bag on the table. She picked up a gold one instead and tossed it to him. “Here. On the house.”

  “What is it?”

  “It does the same thing as the red one, except that it attracts women. Just in case you want to spice things up in that department.”

  He dropped the pouch on the nearest table. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need any help.”

  She paused by another table and smoothed her hands over a blue velvet bag. She sashayed seductively to him and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans. “Trust me on this,” she breathed. “You’ll thank me later.”

  He groaned. “You’re killing me.”

  Her green eyes twinkled with delight.

  Desperate to reengage his brain and to stop thinking about what Faye might look like naked, he waved his hand to encompass the shop. “Is that what this place is all about? Woo-woo love potions?”

  She huffed as if he’d just insulted her. “To the uneducated, my powders, lotions and potions might seem ‘woo woo,’ as you called it. But there’s science behind every one of them.” She reached down her shirt and pulled out three small pouches hanging from the chain around her neck. “This red one, as you know, is a snake repellant. A very effective one. The gold one is a combination of an antibiotic and a blood coagulant, a clotting agent. If you have a deep cut and can’t get to a hospital right away, it might save your life.” She dropped the pouches back beneath her shirt.

  “What’s the purple one for?”

  She shook her head and stepped to the door. “You said you wanted to ask the townspeople if they’ve seen Calvin. Now’s your chance. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  AS JAKE WALKED down the wooden boardwalk along the main street with Faye, he couldn’t help thinking Mystic Glades would have made the perfect old town in a spaghetti Western movie. Well, minus the oak trees and occasional palms that seemed to fill every space of green between the shops and homes. But the buildings were all wood, like an Old West town, with a wooden sidewalk instead of a paved one. And the stores bore fanciful names such as Callahan’s Watering Hole directly across the street from Faye’s shop, and Stuffed to the Gills. Jake had expected that one to be a seafood restaurant. But Faye told him it was a taxidermy business. Beside it were Bubba’s Take or Trade—a general store of sorts—and Gators and Taters, the only restaurant in town.

  “Where is everyone?” he asked. They hadn’t passed a single soul since leaving her shop. And there hadn’t been any customers in her store the entire time he’d been there.

  “Most are at work, in Naples or other places. As you can tell there’s not a lot of opportunity to earn a living right here. The few shops we have, like mine, are popular mostly on weekends.”

  “If everyone’s at work right now, then where are we going?”

  “SBO, where the few people in town at this time of morning hang out.”

  Feeling completely out of his element, he followed her as she crossed the dirt road to the other side. “SBO?”

  She pointed to the gold lettering on the dark-tinted floor-to-ceiling window that formed the front wall of the building in front of them and went inside.

  “Swamp Buggy Outfitters.” Jake read the words on the glass. “What the hell is a swamp buggy?” He shook his head and hurried in after her.

  The answer to that question met him as soon as he stepped inside. A dune buggy on steroids rested on top of a man-made mountain of rock ten feet from the door. The tires were enormous and just about as tall as Jake. The body of the buggy was a collection of steel pipes with a flat steel platform resting on top. The engine was secured beneath the platform between the two front tires. Metal steps would assist the passengers to the bench seats on top of the platform, just behind the driver’s seat. A dark green vinyl tarp attached to metal roll bars shaded the seats. And every inch of the monster was painted in brown-and-green camouflage. Jake had never seen anything like it.

  “It can be yours for thirty-six five.”

  Jake turned around and had to look up to meet the eyes of the man speaking to him. He had a reddish-brown beard at least a foot long and a bushy mustache that curled at the ends. The top of his head was bald.

  “You in the market for a buggy?” the man said.

  “What exactly would someone do with it?”

  He laughed. “Faye did say you weren’t from around here.” He waved up at the buggy. “That’s about the only way to get through some of the more marshy areas of the Everglades, without worrying about stepping on a gator. You’re too high to worry about much of anything up on that platform. Of course if it gets too swampy you have to switch to a canoe or kayak, or even an airboat. Got plenty of canoes and kayaks if you’re interested. Only got one airboat and that’s mine. Got an ATV, too, but again, that’s mine. Of course, everyone borrows it around here from time to time, so it more or less belongs to the town.”

  Jake looked past the buggy to the canoes hanging on the back wall. Some were suspended from the ceiling. The shop wasn’t all that large, but every inch was crammed full of just about everything you’d need outdoors, including tents, sleeping bags and one e
ntire wall of fishing poles. “I’m surprised you don’t have hunting rifles in here, too.”

  “I would but there wouldn’t be any point. Too much competition.”

  “Competition?”

  “Locked and Loaded, the gun store at the end of the street.”

  “Ah.” Jake hadn’t seen that store, but he hadn’t traveled the entire length of the street, either. He held out his hand. “I’m Jake Young, as you already know. I’m a...friend of Faye’s.” He looked past the man to where Faye stood near a tent display, speaking to a group of about ten men sitting on folding chairs. All of them were nearing sixty years of age, or more.

  The man shook his hand in a tight grip that made Jake want to wince.

  “Buddy Johnson. And from what I hear, you and Faye are a bit more than friends.” He winked and slapped Jake on the back.

  He coughed and stumbled forward a few feet.

  Buddy laughed and waved for him to follow him over to the others. “Come on. Faye sent me to get you.”

  Jake suffered through the round of introductions. He’d never met so many Bubbas and Joes in one place before. There was no chance he’d keep them straight. When the introductions were done, he put his arm around Faye’s shoulders and tucked her against his side. She put her arm around his waist, much to the delight of some of the men who grinned and whispered to each other.

  Faye waved toward two of them. “Joe and Bubba said they may have seen the man you’re looking for, honey. Bubba, tell Jake what you told me.”

  Heat flashed through him at her easy use of the endearment and the way her fingers absently stroked his side. This woman was dangerous in so many ways.

  The man she’d called Bubba scratched the white stubble on his jaw before replying. “Two days ago, I was out near Croc Landing when I saw a guy back in the trees and palmettos. Medium build, short brown hair, about five-eight or nine. I remember him because he had a backpack but no gun that I could see. I figured he was an idiot tourist with no common sense and a lousy sense of direction. I was going to see if he needed help finding his way back to wherever he came from, but as soon as he saw me he ducked behind a tree.” He shrugged. “Obviously he didn’t want my help.”

  “Where’s Croc Landing?” Jake asked.

  “Southwest of here, about six miles,” Faye said. “Joe, you saw the same man just yesterday, right?”

  “Yep. The clothing matched what Bubba said earlier before your Jake came over here—jeans and a dark blue button-up shirt.” Joe adjusted the faded orange-and-black Miami Marlins baseball cap on his head. “About four clicks south of where Bubba saw him. Deep in the marsh. I figured the same as Bubba, that the feller was lost. But he took off as soon as he saw me. Definitely didn’t want help.”

  Faye smoothed her hand up Jake’s chest. “That has to be Calvin. If someone else were lost out this far there’d have been a story on the news, maybe a missing tourist from an airboat tour. But I haven’t heard of anything like that.”

  He covered her hand with his to maintain his sanity. Her warm fingers were practically burning a hole through his shirt and had him wanting to pull her behind the tent and kiss her senseless.

  She winked, obviously enjoying his discomfort. How was he going to keep his hands off her for the rest of this case?

  “He didn’t seem hurt?” Jake asked.

  Both Joe and Bubba shook their heads.

  “He has supplies in that backpack,” Faye said. “He’s obviously lost but doesn’t trust any strangers to help him. He must be using a compass. That would explain why he keeps going south instead of north back to the highway.”

  The men around her all nodded as if what she’d said made perfect sense.

  Jake was still wondering about her statement, that Gillette “has” supplies, instead of “probably has” supplies. How would she know he had supplies?

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “A compass would make him get more lost?”

  “Compasses go crazy around here,” she explained. “Just like a lot of electronic equipment, GPS trackers, cell phones. There’s something about the swamp in this area that makes things like compasses unreliable. In order to find your way around, you have to rely on landmarks and the sun or stars.”

  “Do you mind if I ask why anyone would actually choose to live in a place like this, in the middle of nowhere?”

  The friendly looks on the men’s faces faded. Faye gave him an aggravated look.

  “What?” he asked.

  She grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before Buddy decides to use you as target practice for his fancy new crossbow.”

  They’d just reached the street when the Buddy in question leaned out the door. “Faye, hold up. You going out past Croc Landing to look for that fellow right now?”

  “We’re leaving as soon as I grab my gear from the shop.”

  “Hang on a sec.” He disappeared back inside. A couple of minutes later he hurried back out holding two dark green backpacks. One of them was noticeably larger than the other. Buddy heaved it at Jake, who staggered back when he caught it against his chest.

  “This thing weighs a ton,” Jake said.

  Buddy arched a brow. “I might have accidentally distributed the weight more in that pack than Faye’s. My bad.” The sour look he gave Jake told him it wasn’t an accident. He handed the much lighter-looking, smaller pack to Faye. “Those packs have everything you need in case you get caught out past sundown. I’d consider it a favor if you take them. You can let me know how the new gear holds up. There’s a tent in the pack your man’s holding. Do you need any weapons?”

  “Of course not. I’m packing.” She slid her arms through the straps of the backpack and buckled the strap that tightened it against her waist. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Buddy. You’re a sweetheart.”

  He flushed and stepped back. “Be careful, darlin’.”

  “Always.”

  Jake rolled his eyes and hoisted the heavy pack onto his shoulders, fastening the straps the way Faye had done. If his pack weighed less than sixty pounds, it wasn’t by much.

  Faye waved goodbye to Buddy and grabbed Jake’s hand. “Come on.” She started down the street, away from the shop.

  “My car’s back that way,” he said. “From what your friends told us, Gillette was at least eight miles away yesterday. He could be a lot more than that by now.”

  “Cars can’t reach Croc Landing. It’s all marsh.”

  “We’re going to hike the whole way?”

  She gave him an exasperated look. “Do you always complain this much?”

  He clamped his mouth shut and pulled her to the boardwalk as a car went by, the first he’d seen since he’d been there. They continued toward the end of the street, passing several more shops. When he saw the church at the very end, he couldn’t help but laugh.

  Faye shot him a death glare.

  He coughed and forced the amusement off his face until she turned around and started walking again. He would have loved to snap a picture of the sign above the church, but he figured Faye would probably drop him on his ass again if he did. So, instead, he made a mental note to tell Dex about it the next time they spoke. His business partner would get a real kick out of a church called Last Chance advertising “over five hundred saved” just like a fast-food restaurant advertising how many burgers it had sold.

  The street dead-ended behind the church, but Faye didn’t even slow down. She headed into the trees, with Jake hurrying to catch up. Fifty yards in, the solid ground ended and the marsh began.

  Faye stopped and faced him. “Take off the pack.”

  He didn’t question her dictate. This was her domain and he was more than willing to take the heavy pack off. He unclipped the strap at his waist and slipped out of the shoulder straps. The pack d
ropped to the ground with a solid thunk.

  She crouched down and opened it.

  Jake swore when he saw what was inside on top. Rocks. Big, heavy rocks like the ones used to build the fake mountain where Buddy’s swamp buggy was perched back at SBO. He counted ten rocks before Faye finished taking them out and then handed the pack back to him.

  The weight had easily been cut in half. He slung it onto his shoulders and fastened the straps.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “By how heavy it seemed when Buddy threw it to you. I figured he was teaching you a lesson in manners. Lesson learned?”

  He let out a deep breath. “Lesson learned.”

  “Good. Let’s go. It’ll take most of the day to navigate to Croc Landing. It’s in the most treacherous part of the swamp and hard to reach. If we don’t find Calvin there, I want to get a good distance from the Landing to a higher, safer spot before dark.”

  He looked out over the marsh, wondering how deep it was and whether there were any alligators hiding in the mud. “Can’t we borrow Buddy’s swamp buggy and make it there faster? And safer?” He’d much rather be higher up where nothing could bite him.

  “That swamp buggy costs more than I’d make in two years running my shop. I’m not about to ask him to loan it to me. And I’d have to go the back way, around the main waterways, to get there. I’ve never been that way on my own.”

  Jake sighed with disappointment. “Okay. Then how do we get to Croc Landing? On foot?”

  She headed past him and bent down beside a pile of leaves. After fumbling with what appeared to be a plastic buckle, she swept the leaves back, which turned out to be part of a camouflaged tarp.

  Jake groaned when he saw what was underneath.

  Faye gave him a smug look. “Come on, city slicker. I’m going to teach you how to navigate a swamp in a canoe.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The canoe slid quietly through a cluster of lily pads, their yellow flowers perfuming the air with each dip of Jake’s oar into the water. The knobby knees of cypress tree roots stuck up out of the swamp beneath the canopy of branches over the shallows. Faye loved the swamp, with its musty smells and constant chorus of singing birds and frogs, and the occasional bellow of an alligator. She would often spend an entire weekend out in the bog, with just her canoe for company, taking in the sights, enjoying the freedom. But this time, she wasn’t alone. And she was finding, to her surprise, that sharing the majestic world of the Everglades with Jake was even more fun than usual.