Deceived

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “The sea draws you, querida? Does it not?” He took both of her hands in his and drew her forward as be backed through the gate. “It draws me as well. But come. Have lunch with me and meet my grandfather. Then I promise to take you sailing this afternoon.”

  Sailing. Yes. He sounded so normal, Jennie wondered if all the warnings in her mind were figments of her fertile imagination. He’d called her querida again. His darling.

  Maybe the danger wasn’t in the drugs, or guns, or armed guards; maybe the danger was in Dominic himself. Did he love her more than he cared to admit? Was he so overcome with passion for her that he’d abduct her? Had he brought her here to…? Don’t even think it. Dominic’s not like that. The notion was so absurd Jennie nearly choked on her suppressed giggle.

  No. She had to stop imagining things and look at the reality of what was happening. “That sounds wonderful, Dominic. So does lunch. I’m starved.” Sailing. Being on a sailboat would give her an advantage. If need be, she could bop Dominic on the head and sail to the mainland.

  Lunch consisted of fresh fruit, a wonderfully spicy shrimp burrito, and salad. The hacienda was cool, and Jennie felt certain she had never seen a more beautiful home in her life. Like Señor García’s resort, there was an open feel to the main part of the house. The white stucco walls and large open windows added to its sense of airiness. Plants hung everywhere. At least in the living and dining area. The bedrooms were a different matter.

  Her room—actually it was a suite with a bedroom, sitting room, and bath—overlooked the water. She loved it except for one small detail. The windows were barred. Jennie tried not to think about that, concentrating instead on eating and on their coming sail.

  “You are enjoying your meal?”

  “Very much so. I’m sorry your grandfather couldn’t join us.”

  “He is in Cozumel on business for the day. You will meet him tonight at dinner. Like Tío Manny, Grandfather insists that our meals be taken formally, in the dining room. You still have the dresses Maria gave you?”

  Jennie nodded. Maria had insisted she keep them. The knots in her stomach tightened as Dominic spoke of his grandfather. She envisioned the bust in the Garcías’ resort—stern, cruel, unbending. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting him.

  As promised, Dominic took her sailing after they’d eaten. Wearing a bright orange life jacket over her royal blue swimsuit, Jennie positioned herself on the bow and let the wind whip through her hair. She wished the wind could blow away all the unnecessary stuff that had collected in her mind over the last few weeks. The confusion. The lies. The questions. “I just want to be able to see the truth in all of this,” she whispered.

  Jennie turned and made her way along the starboard side toward the stern. She smiled, pleased that she’d remembered what to call the right side of the boat.

  “Coming about!” Dominic shouted.

  She knew what it meant—sort of—but it didn’t register until too late. She caught a movement off to her left. The boom and mainsail whipped toward her. She ducked…but not soon enough. The boom caught her alongside the head and sent her hurling off the starboard into the sea.

  19

  Darkness shifted to gray. The cry of a gull drew her out of the abyss. Jennie licked her lips. They tasted salty. “Please, Jennie. You must wake up. I could not bear it if you were to die.”

  She was on the boat, in Dominic’s arms. Her head rested against his chest. Consciousness brought back the memory of the boom connecting with her head, and the pain. She reached up to touch the sore spot on her head and winced.

  “Querida, you are awake.”

  “What happened?”

  “I tried to warn you as the boat came about. Didn’t you hear me?”

  Jennie nodded. “Yes, but it took me a second to remember what you meant. By then it was too late.”

  “I am so sorry. I should not have expected you to remember.”

  Touched by his sincerity and obvious distress, Jennie turned to look up at him. “Dominic, it’s okay. You rescued me and I’m fine. That’s what counts.”

  He gazed at her for a moment, then closed his eyes. His jaw tightened. Jennie had the strangest sensation that his sorrow went far beyond what had just happened. Had the thought of losing her triggered memories of his father’s death?

  She twisted around to a more comfortable position.

  They sat quietly, floating on the water for a long time. Offering comfort without words. She could feel the bond between them grow stronger and more secure. It was almost a tangible thing, and Jennie wondered how she could feel so strongly about a guy yet not be in love with him.

  She’d never known anyone like Dominic. Sensitive, so emotionally honest that at times she wanted to cut and run. Maybe that was it. She was fairly certain the feelings they had for each other would never go beyond friendship, but the ties that drew them together were so strong it frightened her.

  Dominic drew away first. He cleared his throat. He’d been crying. “It is time we return to the villa. There is something I must see to.”

  When they docked, Dominic escorted Jennie as far as her room. He kissed her cheek saying he’d see her at dinner, then went toward his own room at the end of the long hallway.

  That suited Jennie just fine. As usual, being with Dominic made her feel as if she’d come off a four-hour drive in rush-hour traffic. Jennie recovered a book from her beach bag, then found a jar of bubble bath and poured about half of it in the bathtub.

  As the warm water washed away the dried sea salt, it also soothed her fears. Dominic hadn’t brought her here to hurt her. He’d saved her life. His motives in bringing her to the island were probably as he’d said, to show her his beautiful home and introduce her to his grandfather.

  So how do you explain the armed men running around in camouflage outfits? Ramirez has a small army on this island. Normal people don’t have armies to keep people out—or to keep their guests in.

  “Forget it,” she said aloud to dispel the anxiety building in her stomach again. “Just shut up and relax, McGrady. You think too much.” She picked up her latest mystery novel and began to read.

  At a quarter to eight Jennie closed the door to her room and made her way down the winding staircase into the living room. An angry voice came from somewhere in the back of the house. Señor Ramirez? The man sounded as rigid as Dominic had depicted him in his sculpture. Another voice, Dominic’s, responded. They were speaking Spanish and Jennie had no idea what they were arguing about. Maybe Dominic was finally standing up for himself.

  Then she heard the name McGrady and stiffened. Were they arguing about her? Before she could form any kind of scenario, the door to Señor Ramirez’s office opened. Dominic appeared first. His eyes widened when he saw her.

  The look she saw in them startled her. Was he trying to tell her something? Dominic came toward her and, with all the formality of a prince in court, bowed and kissed her hand. “Jennie, you are early. No matter. I would like to introduce you to my grandfather, Señor Juan Carlos Ramirez. Grandfather, this is my good friend Jennie McGrady.”

  “Señorita McGrady. My grandson has told me a great deal about you.” Ramirez nodded his head and smiled broadly as he extended his arm. “Allow me to escort you to dinner.”

  Jennie swallowed back the hostility she felt for the man and forced herself to comply. She placed her hand on his arm and fell in beside him. Dominic walked behind. Ramirez pulled out a chair and held it for her, then seated himself at the head of the table. Dominic took the chair opposite her. Juan Carlos Ramirez picked up a small bell and rang it.

  Mrs. Rodriguez, the maid she’d met during lunch, appeared with salads and freshly baked bread. Through a delicious dinner of roast lamb with mint sauce, boiled red potatoes, tiny asparagus, and glazed fried plantains, Dominic and Juan Carlos chatted with her and asked questions about her home and family.

&n
bsp; Señor Ramirez seemed so warm and friendly he might have put her at ease. Yet even his gracious smile couldn’t erase the traces of hostility that periodically crept into his voice and his face.

  Mrs. Rodriquez brought in crepe suzettes for dessert. Jennie took a bite and exclaimed in appreciation.

  “I am pleased youfind Consuela’s cooking to your satisfaction.” Ramirez set down his fork and leaned back in his chair. “I understand your father disappeared a few years ago. You have not heard from him in all these years?”

  Jennie’s head snapped up. She froze, mouth open, fork poised a few inches from it. How did he know about her father? Had she told Dominic? Maybe. She couldn’t remember. Even so, why would Dominic say anything? “No, we haven’t,” Jennie replied, carefully phrasing her response. “We were told that he died when his plane crashed five years ago.”

  “But you believe he is still alive, is that not correct?”

  The hairs on her head and the back of her neck stiffened. He couldn’t have known unless…the television show. Easy, McGrady, don’t panic. Stay calm and find out how he knows so much and why he cares. She moved the fork holding a bite of crepe into her mouth. Set the fork down. Chew. Swallow.

  She glanced at Dominic, hoping for an answer, support, hope, anything. He held her gaze for an instant, then looked away.

  Jennie drew in a deep breath to steady herself. She had nothing to lose by being direct. “I used to believe my father was alive. But I’m curious. How did you know?”

  His mouth widened into a wry grin. He placed his napkin on his plate and stood. “Perhaps I will let my grandson tell you that, señorita.” His smile faded as he turned to Dominic and spoke in Spanish.

  Dominic stood, hands clenched. His nostrils flared and for a moment, Jennie thought he was going to hit the old man. Ramirez’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, and even though she couldn’t understand the words, she felt the threat behind them.

  “Sí. I will do as you wish.” Dominic melted in the heat of the patriarch’s fire.

  Ramirez nodded and walked back into his office.

  Dominic tipped his head back as if saying a prayer,

  and crossed himself. By the time he faced her, the look of anguish had almost left his face.

  This is not a safe place, McGrady.Juan Carlos Ramirez is a dangerous man. Jennie hadn’t a clue as to how she’d make it happen, but she had to find a way off the island. “Dominic, this is making me very nervous. What’s going on?”

  “Un momento, querida.” Dominic took her hand and led her from the house into the courtyard and through the gates, which now stood open. He didn’t stop until he reached the sandy beach beyond the wharf.

  His steps slowed. “It was not meant to be like this.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It began when I saw you on television. You said you were searching for your father. At first I felt compassion for you.” His grip tightened on her hand. “Then they showed the photograph. I could not believe it. I was looking into the face of the man who killed my father.”

  “The man who killed my father.” His words turned Jennie to stone. Her muscles refused to move—her lungs to breathe. “I…” she stammered. “No. You must be mistaken. My father wouldn’t kill anyone.”

  “Your father was working with the Drug Enforcement Administration. We knew him as Rafael Chavez. He and a number of other agents had infiltrated Grandfather’s drug operation in Colombia. My father and I arrived only moments before they raided the compound. He tried to stop the man arresting Grandfather and was shot. I will never forget his face. That man was your father. We searched for him, and a few days later received word that he had been killed in another drug raid.

  “I did not believe this. And when I saw his photograph I knew. I told my grandfather.”

  “No, you’re wrong.” Jennie wrenched her hand from Dominic’s and ran. Reality crowded in on her like monsters in a nightmare. And she had let them out. She slipped in the loose sand and fell to her knees. What was it Roberts had said? Dad had made enemies. By appearing on television she had joined the enemy ranks.

  “Oh, God, what am I going to do?” She drew in a shuddering breath. Be strong. You have to be strong. They still don’t know that Dad is alive. Maybe you can…Can what, McGrady? Pull off a miracle?

  Dominic hunkered down beside her. “It will do no good to run, querida. You cannot escape.”

  Maybe she couldn’t get away, but at least she could get some answers. “It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked with much more confidence than she felt. “You’re the one who broke into my house back in Portland, and then locked me in the sauna on the ship.”

  Dominic reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved the stolen picture. “I had to be certain it was you.”

  “What about the spear? That was you too?”

  “Sí.” Dominic kneeled down beside her and took both of her hands in his. She tried to pull away, but he held fast. “Grandfather ordered me to kill you. Remember when I told you about my father and how I would avenge his death?”

  “Yes. I told you revenge wasn’t the answer. It still isn’t.”

  “And you are right. I tried two times to kill you, but I could not. I am an excellent marksman. I ask myself, how can I miss such an easy target? And now I know. How could I kill someone I love?”

  “Dominic, I still don’t…” No, this wasn’t the time to tell him he had a warped idea of love. “If you decided not to kill me, why did you bring me here? Your grandfather hates me. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? You couldn’t do it yourself, so you brought me here so someone else could?” Jennie scrambled to her feet and began walking back to the villa.

  “No.” Dominic grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. “I will not let him harm you. He has promised to let you go.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Forgive me, querida, but I had no other choice. Grandfather said if I could not kill you, then I must bring you to the island.”

  “Why?”

  “He is using you to lure your father to the island.

  When Jason McGrady learns that Juan Carlos Ramirez is holding you captive, he will come to rescue you. Then he will be executed.”

  20

  Jennie paced the floor of the room in which she’d been sequestered. Dominic had long since dropped her off and gone to bed. She’d waited until midnight to attempt an escape. The door had been locked from the outside.

  She tried to hate Dominic for bringing her here, but couldn’t. Dominic was a victim of his grandfather’s anger and a patriarchal culture that forced him to comply with his grandfather’s wishes—even when they were morally wrong. She only hoped that in the end Dominic would be strong enough to stand up for what he believed in.

  She tried to hate Juan Carlos Ramirez. He was an evil man, a drug lord—a murderer. But hating Ramirez wouldn’t solve anything. Neither will berating yourself, McGrady. True, but if she hadn’t been so insistent—if she hadn’t gone to Missing in America for help—none of this would have happened.

  On the ship, Roberts had warned her to be careful. How could she have been so stupid? She should have been able to see what was happening. She had even suspected Dominic at first. But in the end, Dominic’s plan had gone off without a hitch. He’d gained everyone’s trust—timed everything just right. Had his uncle and aunt known? Did Señor Ramirez rule their hearts as well?

  She stopped at the window, slid open the glass, and pressed her face against the bars. “Oh, Daddy,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I only wanted to know the truth about you. I found it. You really are alive. But for how long?” She sighed and walked back to the bed. “Don’t come for me, Dad. Whatever you do, don’t come.”

  He would. She knew it and so did Ramirez. If Dad really was alive, he’d come.

  Jennie crawled into bed, fully expecting to b
e awake all night. She curled into a ball, closed her eyes, and prayed.

  Bright sunlight and the distant fluttering of helicopter blades roused her out of a deep sleep. It took a moment for her brain to assemble the shattering events of the last few days. When it did, she bolted upright and ran to the window. The bars served as a grim reminder of her imprisonment there.

  A helicopter could mean Dad had come to her rescue. Her hopes dissolved as the chopper set down on a pad just beyond the warehouse and two men in camouflage uniforms stepped out. It was too far away to tell who they were only that they were Ramirez’s men.

  Jennie had never felt so helpless in her life. Part of her wanted to crawl back into bed and never get out. Part of her, probably the McGrady in her, had no intention of giving up. There had to be something she could do—some way to get off the island and find help. And she’d better hurry; it was already after nine.

  With renewed determination, Jennie showered and dressed in one of the short sets Maria had given her. This time when she tried the door it opened.

  Once she’d escaped her room, she thought about searching the house for a phone or computer—anything that would allow her to get word to authorities. It didn’t happen. A guard used his rifle to direct her downstairs and into the dining room.

  Surprisingly, her appetite hadn’t been diminished by Ramirez and his plans. Breakfast smelled wonderful. In the dining room, Jennie discovered a buffet table spread with fruits, juices, milk, scrambled eggs, salsa, toast, and hash browns with diced red and green peppers.

  Jennie took a plate and helped herself, passing up the salsa and the peppers.

  Judging from the food left in the serving dishes, the others had already eaten. That suited Jennie just fine. With any luck at all, she’d be able to avoid Ramirez and Dominic all day. Maybe she’d wander around outside and look for a way to escape.