Risky Business

by Nora Roberts

  “Your wife.” Liz thought of the neat, matronly woman in skirted bathing suits. “She knows you smuggle drugs, and she knows you kill people?”

  “She thinks we have a great stockbroker.” Ambuckle grinned. “I’ve been moving snow for ten years, and my wife wouldn’t know coke from powdered sugar. I like to keep business and family separate. The little woman’s going to be sick when she finds out you had an accident. Now we’re going to take a little ride. And we’re going to talk about the three hundred thousand our friend Jerry slipped out from under my nose. Cast off, Scott.”

  “No!” Thinking only of survival, Liz made a lunge toward the dock. Ambuckle had her on the deck with one shove. He shook his head, dusted his hands and turned to her. “I’d wanted to keep this from getting messy. You know, I switched gauges on your tanks, figuring you’d back off. Always had a soft spot for you, little lady. But business is business.” With a wheezy sigh, he turned to Scott. “Since you’ve taken over Pablo’s position, I assume you know how to deal with this.”

  “I certainly do.” He took out a revolver. His eyes locked on Liz’s. When she caught her breath, he turned the barrel toward Ambuckle. “You’re under arrest.” With his other hand, he pulled out a badge. “You have the right to remain silent…” It was the last thing Liz heard before she buried her face in her hands and wept.

  12

  “I want to know what the hell’s been going on.” They were in Moralas’s office, but Jonas wouldn’t sit. He stood behind Liz’s chair, his fingers curled tight over the back rung. If anyone had approached her, he would have struck first and asked questions later. He’d already flattened the unfortunate detective who’d tried to hold him back when he’d seen Liz on the deck of the Expatriate with Scott.

  With his hands folded on his desk, Moralas gave Jonas a long, quiet look. “Perhaps the explanation should come from your countryman.”

  “Special Agent Donald Scott.” The man Liz had known as Scott Trydent sat on the corner of Moralas’s desk. “Sorry for the deception, Liz.” Though his voice was calm and matter-of-fact, it couldn’t mask the excitement that bubbled from him. As he sipped his coffee, he glanced up at Jonas. Explanations wouldn’t go over easily with this one, he thought. But he’d always believed the ends justified the means. “I’ve been after that son of a bitch for three years.” He drank again, savoring triumph. “It took us two before we could infiltrate the ring, and even then I couldn’t make contact with the head man. To get to him I had to go through more channels than you do with the Company. He’s been careful. For the past eight months I’ve been working with Manchez as Scott Trydent. He was the closest I could get to Ambuckle until two days ago.”

  “You used her.” Jonas’s hand went to Liz’s shoulder. “You put her right in the middle.”

  “Yeah. The problem was, for a long time we weren’t sure just how involved she was. We knew about your shop, Liz. We knew you were an experienced diver. In fact, there isn’t anything about you my organization didn’t know. For some time, you were our number-one suspect.”

  “Suspect?” She had her hands folded neatly in her lap, but the anger was boiling. “You suspected me.”

  “You left the U.S. over ten years ago. You’ve never been back. You have both the contacts and the means to have run the ring. You keep your daughter off the island for most of the year and in one of the best schools in Houston.”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Details like that become our business. When you took Jerry Sharpe in and gave him a job, we leaned even further toward you. He thought differently, but then we weren’t using him for his opinions.”

  She felt Jonas’s fingers tighten and reached up to them as she spoke. “Using him?”

  “I contacted Jerry Sharpe in New Orleans. He was someone else we knew everything about. He was a con, an operator, but he had style.” He took another swig of coffee as he studied Jonas. “We made him a deal. If he could get on the inside, feed us information, we’d forget about a few…indiscretions. I liked your brother,” Scott said to Jonas. “Really liked him. If he’d been able to settle a bit, he’d have made a hell of a cop. ‘Conning the bad guys,’ he called it.”

  “Are you saying Jerry was working for you?” Jonas felt his emotions race toward the surface. The portrait he’d barely been able to force himself to accept was changing.

  “That’s right.” Scott took out a cigarette and watched the match flare as he struck it. “I liked him—I mean that. He had a way of looking at things that made you forget they were so lousy.”

  That was Jerry, Jonas thought. To give himself a moment, he walked to the window. He could see the water lapping calmly against the hulls of boats. He could see the sun dancing down on it and children walking along the sea wall. The scene had been almost the same the day he’d arrived on Cozumel. Some things remained the same; others altered constantly. “What happened?”

  “He had a hard time following orders. He wanted to push them too fast too far. He told me once he had something to prove, to himself and to the other part of him. The better part of him.”

  Jonas turned slowly. The pain came again, an ache. Liz saw it in his eyes and went to stand with him. “Go on.”

  “He got the idea into his head to rip off the money from a shipment. I didn’t know about it until he called me from Acapulco. He figured he’d put the head man in a position where he’d have to deal personally. I told him to stay put, that we were scrubbing him. He’d have been taken back to the States and put somewhere safe until the job was over.” He tossed the match he’d been holding into an ashtray on Moralas’s desk. “He didn’t listen. He came back to Cozumel and tried to deal with Manchez himself. It was over before I knew. Even if I’d have known, I can’t be sure I could’ve stopped it. We don’t like to lose civilians, Mr. Sharpe. I don’t like to lose friends.”

  The anger drained from him degree by degree. It would have been so like Jerry, Jonas thought. An adventure, the excitement, the impulsiveness. “Go on.”

  “Orders came down to put the pressure on Liz.” Scott gave a half laugh that had nothing to do with humor. “Orders from both sides. It wasn’t until after your trip to Acapulco that we were sure you weren’t involved in the smuggling. You stopped being a suspect and became the decoy.”

  “I came to the police.” She looked at Moralas. “I came to you. You didn’t tell me.”

  “I wasn’t aware of Agent Scott’s identity until yesterday. I knew only that we had a man on the inside and that it was necessary to use you.”

  “You were protected,” Scott put in. “There wasn’t a day you weren’t guarded by Moralas’s men and by mine. Your being here complicated things,” he said to Jonas. “You were pushing too close to the bone. I guess you and Jerry had more in common than looks.”

  Jonas felt the weight on the chain around his neck. “Maybe we did.”

  “Well, we’d come to the point where we had to settle for Manchez and a few others or go for broke. We went for broke.”

  “The drop we made. It was a setup.”

  “Manchez had orders to do whatever he had to to get back the money Jerry had taken. They didn’t know about the safe-deposit box.” He blew out a stream of smoke. “I had to play it pretty fast and loose to keep that under wraps. But then we didn’t know about it either, until you led us to it. As far as Ambuckle was concerned, you had the money, and he was going to get it back. He wanted it to look as though you’d been running the smuggling operation together. When you were found dead, the heat would be off of him. He planned to lie low a while, then pick up business elsewhere. I had that from Manchez. You were set up,” he agreed. “So was he. I got to Merriworth, made enough noise about how Manchez was about to double-cross to set him off. When Manchez was snorkeling to your boat, I was on the phone with the man I knew as Clancy. I got a promotion, and Clancy came back to deal with you himself.”

  Liz tried to see it as he did, as a chess game, as any game with pawns. She couldn’t.
“You knew who he was yesterday morning and you still had me get on that boat.”

  “There were a dozen sharpshooters in position. I had a gun, Ambuckle didn’t. We wanted him to order Liz’s murder, and we wanted him to tell her as much as possible. When this goes to court, we want it tidy. We want him put away for a long time. You’re a lawyer, Sharpe. You know how these things can go. We can make a clean collar, have a stack of evidence and lose. I’ve watched too many of these bastards walk.” He blew out smoke between set teeth. “This one’s not walking anywhere but into federal prison.”

  “There is still the question of whether these men will be tried in your country or mine.” Moralas spoke softly, and didn’t move when Scott whirled on him.

  “Look, Moralas—”

  “This will be discussed later. You have my thanks and my apologies,” he said to Jonas and Liz. “I regret we saw no other way.”

  “So do I,” Liz murmured, then turned to Scott. “Was it worth it?”

  “Ambuckle brought thousands of pounds of cocaine into the States. He’s responsible for more than fifteen murders in the U.S. and Mexico. Yeah, it was worth it.”

  She nodded. “I hope you understand that I never want to see you again.” After closing her hand around Jonas’s she managed a smile. “You were a lousy student.”

  “Sorry we never had that drink.” He looked back at Jonas. “Sorry about a lot of things.”

  “I appreciate what you told me about my brother. It makes a difference.”

  “I’m recommending him for a citation. They’ll send it to your parents.”

  “It’ll mean a great deal to them.” He offered his hand and meant it. “You were doing your job—I understand that. We all do what we have to do.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.”

  Jonas nodded. Something inside him was free, completely free. “As to putting Liz through hell for the past few weeks…” Very calmly, Jonas curled his hand into a fist and planted it solidly on Scott’s jaw. The thin man snapped a chair in half as he crashed into it on his way to the floor.

  “Jonas!” Stunned, Liz could do no more than stare. Then, incredibly, she felt the urge to giggle. With one hand over her mouth, she leaned into Jonas and let the laughter come. Moralas remained contentedly at his desk, sipping coffee.

  Scott rubbed his jaw gingerly. “We all do what we have to do,” he murmured.

  Jonas only turned his back. “Goodbye, Captain.”

  Moralas stayed where he was. “Goodbye, Mr. Sharpe.” He rose and, in a rare show of feeling, took Liz’s hand and kissed it. “Vaya con dios.”

  He waited until the door had shut behind them before he looked down at Scott again. “Your government will, of course, pay for the chair.”

  He was gone. She’d sent him away. After nearly two weeks, Liz awoke every morning with the same thoughts. Jonas was gone. It was for the best. After nearly two weeks she awoke every morning struggling to convince herself. If she’d followed her heart, she would have said yes the moment he’d asked her to marry him. She would have left everything she’d built behind and gone with him. And ruined his life, perhaps her own.

  He was already back in his own world, poring through law books, facing juries, going to elegant dinner parties. By now, she was sure his time in Cozumel was becoming vague. After all, he hadn’t written. He hadn’t called. He’d left the day after Ambuckle had been taken into custody without another word about love. He’d conquered his ghosts when he’d faced Manchez and had walked away whole.

  He was gone, and she was once more standing on her own. As she was meant to, Liz thought. She’d have no regrets. That she’d promised herself. What she’d given to Jonas had been given without conditions or expectations. What he’d given to her she’d never lose.

  The sun was high and bright, she thought. The air was as mellow as quiet music. Her lover was gone, but she, too, was whole. A month of memories could be stretched to last a lifetime. And Faith was coming home.

  Liz pulled her bike into a parking space and listened to the thunder of a plane taking off. Even now Faith and her parents were crossing the Gulf. Liz left her bike and walked toward the terminal. It was ridiculous to feel nervous, she told herself, but she couldn’t prevent it. It was ridiculous to arrive at the airport nearly an hour early, but she’d have gone mad at home. She skirted around a bed of marigolds and geraniums. She’d buy flowers, she decided. Her mother loved flowers.

  Inside the terminal, the air was cool and full of noise. Tourists came and went but rarely passed the shops without a last-minute purchase. Liz started in the first store and worked her way down, buying consistently and strictly on impulse. By the time she arrived at the gate, she carried two shopping bags and an armful of dyed carnations.

  Any minute, she thought. She’d be here any minute. Liz shifted both bags to one hand and nervously brushed at her hair. Passengers waited for their flights by napping in the black plastic chairs or reading guidebooks. She watched a woman check her lipstick in a compact mirror and wondered if she had time to run into the ladies room to examine her own face. Gnawing on her lip, she decided she couldn’t leave, even for a moment. Neither could she sit, so she paced back and forth in front of the wide windows and watched the planes come and go. It was late. Planes were always late when you were waiting for them. The sky was clear and blue. She knew it was equally clear in Houston because she’d been checking the weather for days. But the plane was late. Impatient, she walked back to security to ask about the status. She should have known better.

  Liz got a shrug and the Mexican equivalent of It’ll be here when it comes. In another ten minutes, she was ready to scream. Then she saw it. She didn’t have to hear the flight announcement to know. With her heart thudding dully, she waited by the door.

  Faith wore blue striped pants and a white blouse. Her hair’s grown, Liz thought as she watched her daughter come down the steps. She’s grown—though she knew it would never do to tell Faith so. She’d just wrinkle her nose and roll her eyes. Her palms were wet. Don’t cry, don’t cry, Liz ordered herself. But the tears were already welling. Then Faith looked up and saw her. With a grin and a wave she was racing forward. Liz dropped her bags and reached out for her daughter.

  “Mom, I got to sit by the window, but I couldn’t see our house.” As she babbled, Faith held her mother’s neck in a stranglehold. “I brought you a present.”

  With her face buried against Faith’s throat, Liz drew in the scents—powder, soap and chocolate from the streak on the front of the white blouse. “Let me look at you.” Drawing her back, Liz soaked up the sight of her. She’s beautiful, Liz realized with a jolt. Not just cute or sweet or pretty any longer. Her daughter was beautiful.

  I can’t let her go again. It hit her like a wall. I’ll never be able to let her go again. “You’ve lost a tooth,” Liz managed as she brushed back her daughter’s hair.

  “Two.” Faith grinned to show the twin spaces. “Grandma said I could put them under my pillow, but I brought them with me so I can put them under my real pillow. Will I get pesos?”

  “Yes.” Liz kissed one cheek, then the other. “Welcome home.”

  With her hand firmly in Faith’s, Liz rose to greet her parents. For a moment she just looked at them, trying to see them as a stranger would. Her father was tall and still slim, though his hairline was creeping back. He was grinning at her the way he had whenever she’d done something particularly pleasing to him. Her mother stood beside him, lovely in her tidy way. She looked now, as she’d always looked to Liz, like a woman who’d never had to handle a crisis more stressful than a burned roast. Yet she’d been as solid and as sturdy as a rock. There were tears in her eyes. Liz wondered abruptly if the beginning of the summer left her mother as empty as the end of the summer left her.

  “Momma.” Liz reached out and was surrounded. “Oh, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you all so much.” I want to go home. The thought surged up inside her and nearly poured out. She needed to g
o home.

  “Mom.” Faith tugged on the pocket of her jeans. “Mom.”

  Giddy, Liz turned and scooped her up. “Yes.” She covered her face with kisses until Faith giggled. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Faith snuggled in. “You have to say hello to Jonas.”

  “What?”

  “He came with us. You have to say hi.”

  “I don’t—” Then she saw him, leaning against the window, watching—waiting patiently. The blood rushed out of her head to her heart until she was certain something would burst. Holding onto Faith, Liz stood where she was. Jonas walked to her, took her face in both hands and kissed her hard.

  “Nice to see you,” he murmured, then bent down to pick up the bags Liz had dropped. “I imagine these are for you,” he said as he handed Liz’s mother the flowers.

  “Yes.” Liz tried to gather the thoughts stumbling through her mind. “I forgot.”

  “They’re lovely.” She sent her daughter a smile. “Jonas is going to drive us to the hotel. I invited him to dinner tonight. I hope you don’t mind. You always make enough.”

  “No, I… Of course.”

  “We’ll see you then.” She gave Liz another brief kiss. “I know you want to get Faith home and have some time together. We’ll see you tonight.”

  “But I—”

  “Our bags are here. We’re going to deal with customs.”

  Before Liz could say another word, she was alone with her daughter.

  “Can we stop by and see Señor Pessado?”

  “Yes,” Liz said absently.

  “Can I have some candy?”

  Liz glanced down to the chocolate stain on Faith’s blouse. “You’ve already had some.”

  Faith just smiled. She knew she could depend on Señor Pessado. “Let’s go home now.”

  Liz waited until Faith was unpacked, until the crystal bird Faith had bought her was hanging in the window and her daughter had consumed two tacos and a pint of milk.