Deceived

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Jennie. Thank goodness, we were getting worried. Where are you?”

  “At Dominic’s uncle’s place in Ocho Rios.” She told Gram about the customs official and the cocaine.

  “That’s terrible. I cannot believe no one called to let me know.”

  “I can. The guy was a total jerk. Dominic bribed him to let me go.”

  “Well, we can deal with him later. I’m just grateful you’re safe and that Dominic was with you.” She paused. “You are safe, aren’t you? I mean, you’ll be okay there?” “I’m fine. Dominic says we can fly to Grand Cayman tomorrow morning and meet the ship. I’ll see you then.” Jennie hung up feeling despondent—as if the only line linking her to safety had been cut. She’d assured Gram that she felt fine. Only she didn’t feel fine at all. Despite the elegant surroundings and Dominic and his uncle’s kindness, Jennie felt lonely and afraid and vulnerable.

  “You must be Jennie.” A dark-haired woman in a bright multicolored cotton-gauze dress reached out and grasped Jennie’s hands in hers. “I’m Maria. Manny’s wife. Dominic told us what happened.”

  Mrs. García was a beautiful woman, tall—Jennie’s height—and obviously a few years younger than her husband.

  “I hope he also told you I was innocent,” Jennie heard herself saying. “I don’t use drugs, Mrs. García.”

  “Of course you don’t. Oh, but you must call me Maria.” She smiled, and the acceptance in her nearly black eyes banished Jennie’s discomfort.

  “Come. I’ll show you to your room.” Jennie followed Maria up a wide staircase and along a veranda overlooking the courtyard where they’d eaten lunch. Maria opened the second door down and stood aside to let Jennie in.

  Jennie’s mouth gaped. “Wow. It’s gorgeous.” The room was equipped with a king-size bed, a whirlpool, and a balcony that overlooked another large courtyard.

  “I think you’ll be comfortable here. If you need anything just give room service a call. Dominic will come by to escort you to dinner.” Maria started to go, then turned. “We will have dinner at eight. That should give you time to freshen up. Manny likes us to dress for dinner—a throwback to the old days when men were in charge.” She laughed and touched Jennie’s shoulder. “I let him think he still is from time to time.”

  Jennie wondered if they’d mind her showing up at dinner in her shorts and T-shirt. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to wear except what I’ve got on.”

  “That’s all been taken care of. Dominic told me your clothes are still on the ship. Since we are close to the same size, I’ll go through my closets and find some fresh clothes for you to wear.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Nonsense. My treat. It’s not everyday I get to play aunt to my favorite nephew and his friends. You just relax and I’ll send one of the maids up in a few minutes.”

  “Relax,” Jennie said to her mirror image after Maria had gone. “If only I could.” Jennie flopped onto the bed, spread out her arms, and stared at the ceiling. Roberts had told her to be careful. She had been. He’d told her to stay with someone. She’d done that too.

  Jennie felt as though she’d been locked in a vault.

  Every few hours the walls seemed to move in on her. Any time now they might close the gap and crush her. What upset her most was that she couldn’t fight back. She had no idea who was out to get her, and no clue as to what the next move might be.

  “And that means you’d better keep your eyes open,” she told herself. Somewhere below her, water splashed in a concrete fountain. Birds tweeped and the scent of some exotic flower wafted into the room. Her eyelids drifted closed.

  A knock at the door jolted her out of her lethargy. So much for keeping her eyes open. Jennie rolled off the bed and opened the door. A wrinkled dark-skinned woman not more than four feet tall handed Jennie the clothes Maria had promised.

  Jennie showered and dressed in a white gauzy dress, then braided her hair. While she waited for Dominic to pick her up, she wandered out onto the balcony. Dominic and his uncle stood in the courtyard near a fountain in another of the many gardens.

  “It is not right,” Manny said.

  “What choice do I have? Grandfather will have his way regardless of what we say. It is better if I…” As if sensing her presence, Dominic glanced up in her direction. He smiled and waved, then turned back to Manny and began speaking in Spanish.

  Jennie faded back into the room, embarrassed that they’d seen her and upset that they’d finished their conversation in a language she couldn’t understand.

  A few minutes later, Dominic arrived.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said, pointing toward the balcony. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

  Dominic frowned. “It is not your fault. Tío Manny should not have brought up such a delicate subject in so public a place.”

  When Dominic didn’t volunteer any more information Jennie let the issue drop. She’d heard enough to make an educated guess as to what they’d been discussing. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought Dominic should disregard his grandfather’s wishes and study art.

  The rest of the evening played like a romance novel. The Garcías were the most gracious people she’d ever met. And Dominic was perfect. So perfect, in fact, that Jennie was almost ready to reconsider the boyfriend thing. After dinner they spent about an hour wandering around the grounds.

  “Ah, querida, I hate for the evening to end, I wish…” He sighed. “You have had a long and tiring day.” Dominic slid an arm around her shoulder and drew her closer.

  She basked in the sweet scent of the delicate white flowers surrounding them. Gardenias, she guessed. “That name…querida…you keep calling me that. What does it mean?”

  Dominic smiled and pressed his lips to her hair. “I will tell you if you promise not to be angry with me.”

  “Why?” Jennie shifted so she could look at him. “Is it something bad?”

  He chuckled, the moonlight reflecting in his dark eyes. “No, not bad. It is a term of endearment. In your country you might say dear, or darling. Querida means beloved.”

  “It’s a lovely name.” Jennie smiled up at him. “Do you really see me that way, Dominic? Or is it just a name you use to flatter all your girl friends?”

  Dominic didn’t answer. He was staring into the garden. Had she hurt his feelings? Maybe he really did think of her in a more romantic way than she thought of him. “Dominic…” Jennie squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek, trying to keep things light. “I’m going in now. I’m totally wiped out. Besides, we’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow.”

  Dominic stood, then took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Of course. Good-night, señorita. I, too, must get some rest.”

  She’d done it again. Triggered something in Dominic that closed him up. She turned and hurried inside, up the staircase and into her room. Maybe when things settled down she’d talk to Gram about him. He seemed troubled by so many things. And she cared about Dominic. She really did.

  Jennie crawled into bed, exhausted. Outside of her room, water bubbled in the fountain and cascaded over the rocks in the garden. It should have calmed her, but it didn’t. The water served only as a grim reminder that she was stranded in a foreign country, while the ship, which carried her family and a DEA agent named Roberts, was drifting farther and farther away.

  18

  The next morning after breakfast Maria and Manuel García hugged them and offered their prayers for a safe journey. His uncle handed Dominic the keys to one of his private planes and ordered a driver to take them to the airport.

  Jennie could feel trouble stirring deep in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was the tearful way Maria had said goodbye, or Señor García’s concerned expression when he gave Dominic the keys to the airplane. Dominic had assured her he knew how to fly. Was that it? Was she just being paranoid about getting in a
small plane with a guy she barely knew? Or was there something else? Her intuition had been sending so many warning signals lately her brain was beginning to short circuit.

  “Trust your instincts,” Gram had often told her. Jennie’s instincts told her she should be on board the Caribbean Dreamer, but it was a little late for that. The next best option available to her at the moment was to fly to Georgetown with Dominic. She’d have felt a lot better about it though if she could read Dominic’s mind.

  Dominic had been unusually silent during breakfast. Pensive. Maybe he was having second thoughts about flying her to Grand Cayman. Maybe he was just upset about her comments last night.

  Now, sitting in the back of one of Señor García’s limousines, Jennie glanced over at Dominic and smiled. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I really enjoyed meeting Maria and your uncle Manny. I’m almost glad I missed the boat.”

  Dominic nodded. “They are nice people.”

  “You seem upset about something.”

  “Do I, querida?” Dominic paused, then frowned. “Forgive me…I think you do not like for me to call you my beloved.”

  “I didn’t say that, but you’re right. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but the term seems so…”

  “Affectionate?” Dominic took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. “Perhaps you are right. It is too soon. I do not mean to offend you.” His face brightened. “And today we will have a great adventure. I have much to show you before…” Dominic paused. A shadow crossed his face.

  “You don’t have to fly me to Georgetown, you know,” Jennie offered. “I could probably get a commercial flight.”

  Dominic shook his head. “No, señorita. It is nothing. I would like to take you. We will get there much more quickly in Tío Manny’s plane.”

  He was right about that. Two hours later they were circling a beautiful Caribbean Island. Jennie decided she’d been silly to worry. Dominic was an excellent pilot and flying in the small craft made her want to take lessons—maybe even get her own plane someday. Maybe Gram would teach her.

  Jennie studied the island, looking for the airport. “Um, Dominic, I hate to say this, but are you sure this is Grand Cayman? I mean, it can’t be. There’s no city, no resorts.”

  The island on which Dominic was preparing to land consisted largely of jungle and patches of open fields. Just ahead of them lay a crude landing strip, six planes on the ground, and a large hangar. A dozen or so trucks that looked like military issue had been parked off to one side of the runway. On the far side of the island, Jennie noticed a long sand spit with a marina at one end. The sun glinted off the metal roofs of a dozen or so metal structures. And on a hill, overlooking it all, stood a castle.

  The landing gear dropped into place. Jennie swal­ lowed back her growing uneasiness.

  “Where are we? Why are you landing here?”

  “Do not be alarmed, Jennie. I wanted to surprise you. This is my grandfather’s island.”

  Jennie gripped the leather seat to control her anger as much as to brace herself for the landing. “Trust me, Dominic, if you didn’t want to alarm me, this was the wrong move. I can’t believe you’d bring me here without asking me.”

  “You are right. Perhaps I did act foolishly. But I wanted you to meet my grandfather. I have arranged for the others to join us here tomorrow. Matt will bring them. You will be safe.”

  Dominic’s lack of conviction when he said the word “safe” set off a wave of terror. What if Dominic had been the shooter? What if he wanted her dead? No, McGrady, her inner voice warned, don’t panic. Don’t read any more into this than you can see on the surface. Dominic’s family does things a little differently than you’re used to. That’s all. He’d had plenty of opportunity to kill her, but he hadn’t. Dominic’s a friend—eccentric maybe—but a friend. Give him some slack and see where it goes. And pray.

  Not bad advice. Actually, other than screaming her guts out there wasn’t much else she could do—at least not at the moment.

  “You will love our island, Jennie. The hacienda is more beautiful than Tío Manny’s resort. I hope you will relax and enjoy it.”

  “You’re sure you talked to Gram?”

  “Matt is making all the arrangements. You will see.” Dominic eased the plane onto the landing strip like a veteran pilot. That should have made her feel better. It didn’t.

  Jennie did not like being manipulated. She did not want to be here. What was Dominic thinking? What did he want? They were friends. One minute they were having a great time on Jamaica, then poof, everything went wrong. She still couldn’t believe it. Arrested for smuggling drugs she knew nothing about. Dominic had bribed the guards and they’d set her free—no charges or anything. Now she was on an isolated private island in the Caribbean with a guy she’d known for less than a week.

  It was all too bizarre to be a coincidence. Had Dominic been planning this little side trip all along? No, that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have known she’d miss the boat…unless he had been the one to set her up. Had he planted the cocaine and devised this elaborate plan to get her here? Why? What possible reason could he have?

  McGrady, back off. You’re letting your imagination run ahead of your common sense. He likes you and took advantage of the opportunity to show you his world. It’s that simple. A private island. A gorgeous guy with money to burn. Enjoy it.

  With no other choice available, Jennie followed Dominic to a waiting Jeep. “I am sorry I could not offer you a more pleasant ride to the hacienda, but the roads…” he shrugged. “You will understand when you see.” He helped her into the passenger seat and climbed in the other side.

  They bumped along a narrow, unpaved road that wound through the jungle. There may have been room for two vehicles to pass, but Jennie doubted it.

  Even though she’d told herself to relax, she couldn’t.

  As they drove along, Jennie tried to scope out the island in case she needed to escape. “It must be difficult to be so isolated. Is this the only road to the airport?”

  “Sí. My grandfather is what you call…a recluse. The island is a fortress. It is heavily guarded to assure his privacy. The only other way is by boat.”

  A camouflaged truck with an open bed, like those she’d seen at the airport, came to a stop in front of them. Dominic pulled off the road to let it pass. The driver, a large surly man wearing a sombrero, nodded at Dominic and flashed him a toothy grin. Another similar truck followed. Both were laden with bulging burlap bags. And guarded by four armed men in combat fatigues.

  Drugs. The word slammed into her stomach and nearly tore her insides apart. She closed her eyes and clung to the roll bar above her head. Oh God, no. It can’t be true. Please don’t let it be true.

  Jennie gulped back the question she couldn’t ask and pretended only a passing interest in what she’d just seen.

  “Are they heading for the airport?”

  “Sí. Grandfather exports coffee beans, both from Colombia and from here.” He glanced over at her. “You noticed the guards. That concerns you, no?”

  Jennie hauled in a deep breath to fight the rising hysteria. “Concerned? Why should I be concerned?” Her voice had shifted to soprano. “You bring me to your island, and the first thing I see are trucks loaded with coffee transported by armed guards.”

  “Perhaps they are just hitching a ride to the airport. We have many employees and they often go to visit their families on the mainland. We are not more than twenty­ five miles from Cozumel.”

  The thought gave Jennie hope on two fronts. One, that drugs were not involved, and two, they were not as isolated as she had first thought.

  The road widened. Mud gave way to concrete and the jungle disappeared behind them. The buildings Jennie had seen from the air were massive up close. They drove through what looked like a loading area. Several men were tossing bundles from a large stora
ge bin onto a truck.

  “The coffee beans are brought here from the fields,” Dominic said, confirming her thoughts. “From here they go either to the airport or to the docks. Occasionally we have customers who ship by sea.”

  Dominic turned away from the workmen and pulled into a parking lot that held several other Jeeps. All the same camouflage colors. If Jennie hadn’t known better, she’d have suspected she was touring a military compound.

  Military. Maybe not drugs, McGrady. Maybe guns. Smuggling guns to…someone. Was that good or bad? Jennie wished she’d paid a little more attention to the military goings on in Central and South America. She knew there were uprisings and rebel groups but had no idea what they were called or what they stood for. Maybe Dominic’s grandfather was one of the good guys, supply­ ing guns to troops who had pledged their lives to bring freedom to the oppressed. It sounded good. And it was much easier to accept than anything else she’d imagined. “Welcome, my friend—to the hacienda of Juan Carlos Ramirez.” Dominic stopped the Jeep and hurried around to her side. He had parked near a high stone wall topped with lethal-looking razor wire. The effect was softened slightly by remnants of the jungle that had either been planted or had survived the ravages of construction.

  She scrambled out of the Jeep and took Dominic’s proffered hand. They walked along the wall a short distance and stopped at a wide iron gate. Dominic punched a number into the small electronic box, and after a series of beeps, the lock clicked and the gate shuddered open.

  Jennie hesitated. The temptation to run licked at the corners of her brain. She glanced back at the sea, cool and inviting, and counted the boats. Two outboard motors, a yacht, and a sailboat. Maybe she could reach one of them. And maybe you’d better forget it. Bolting now didn’t make much sense. Dominic could outrun her. And even if she made it, the men, who looked more like desperados in a wild west movie than coffee-bean pickers, would gun her down before she got ten feet. All this went through her mind in less than a second, but Dominic picked up on her reluctance. Fortunately, he’d read her wrong.