Her head spun. He was right. How stupid was that? That scenario had never occurred to her at the time. She had been so assured of her own honesty that she hadn’t taken into consideration that a stranger might think otherwise. She cringed, recalling that her original goal in life had been to become a criminal investigator.
“Not to worry,” Aaron said, noting her chagrin. “Maybe it won’t happen, but if it does, we’ve got you covered.” He sounded a tiny bit amused as he opened the passenger side of the plane for her. Valerie was impressed, but she also found herself stifling the urge to slap the smug look off his face—smugness that penetrated even through the dark glasses.
“Did you ever personally meet Allard’s granddaughter?” he asked as she climbed cautiously into the toy masquerading as a plane.
Are you human? Do you ever come up for air? she wondered. “Once,” she said.
“Any words with her?”
“Perfunctory greetings only. She spent most of her time upstairs in the library, which was odd, since she was far from the bookish sort.”
Aaron leaned close to fasten her seatbelt, his hand brushing against her, causing her heart to flutter. Strong, capable, long-fingered hands—hands that should be holding her the way they had when he’d danced with her two years ago. She swallowed, irritated by her physical reaction to his close proximity. Two years ago, the occasion had been festive and he’d had a few drinks to loosen up. She was no doubt getting a dose of the real Aaron Weiss at this moment, and the real one considered her a naïve nuisance.
“You believe Mr. Allard’s granddaughter is behind all of this, don’t you?” she said.
“Don’t you?”
A question with a question. Boy, she hated it when people did that. She wondered if he knew, or cared, that he was seriously provoking her.
Of course he didn’t care. His attention was on the control panel. The engine had caught and the excuse for a flying machine was spiriting down the runway, while he was simultaneously radioing the tower. She turned her head toward the side window so he could not observe her expression as they became airborne. He was probably amused. That is, if Aaron did amused.
Five minutes into the flight, she felt herself relax, allowing all tensions to dissipate. It was difficult to feel resentful when below she could see the glorious expanse of God’s blue ocean and brownish bits of island all laid out below her. The view was awesome. Why ruin everything by taking offense with Aaron the interrogator? Wasn’t his intense personality part of the reason he’d intrigued her in the first place?
***
Caye Caulker was indeed a tiny island, just four miles long. There were no cars except those used by municipal authorities. The people, a colorful mix of Hispanic, Mayan, and African roots, rode bikes, walked, or used golf carts to get around.
Once they’d disembarked, Valerie and Aaron walked silently down the unpaved sandy road that led into the village, being occasionally greeted with friendly smiles and pleasantries. Aaron was cordial, in his cool, remote way, but no one seemed put off by it. The locals appeared to be familiar with his persona.
“The people are very friendly,” Valerie said.
“Yes, they are, but don’t share anything confidential. Within every Belizean beats the heart of a yenta.”
“Yenta?” She’d heard the Yiddish/Hebrew phrase before, but the meaning momentarily eluded her.
“A gossipy woman,” Aaron said.
She forced herself not to flinch. Why did he have to throw in the disparaging woman remark? Men gossiped, too.
Oblivious to her thoughts, Aaron looked straight ahead. Even though she had protested, he carried her suitcase, setting it down only when they’d arrived at a charming pink building that proclaimed itself Annie’s Inn. They were greeted by Annie herself, a sixtyish red-haired Canadian expatriate who was courteous and helpful as she showed Valerie to a room that was neat, clean, and basic. The kitchenette had a microwave and a small refrigerator, and the tiny bathroom had an enclosed shower. The largest area was the pastel green bedroom, which boasted a queen-size bed, a ceiling fan, and French doors leading out to a charming terrace overlooking the ever-present ocean.
“Where are you staying?” Valerie asked Aaron once Annie had left them alone.
He nudged her out to the terrace and pointed toward the blue expanse of sea where she spotted the distant masts of a sailing vessel.
“You’re living on a boat?” she asked, surprised.
“My boat,” he corrected. “Her name is Saniyah II. I’ll show her to you…perhaps tomorrow. You’ll be more settled then.”
Valerie wasn’t sure she’d ever be settled. Of course she didn’t think Aaron would suggest they share a room, but she’d expected him to at least have a place in the same inn, or even a nearby one. With the ocean between them, how was she going to find out what his health issues might be?
“I’m leaving now,” he said. “Make sure you keep the doors locked at all times, especially the terrace ones. It’s pretty safe here on this part of the island, but there’s never an excuse to be careless.”
She nodded mutely. In truth, she wanted to grab him and shove him down on the bed. Not for some ulterior lust-crazed purpose, but just so she could examine him and make sure he was okay. On the surface, her concern seemed unwarranted. But her underlying fear was driven by past experience. She knew the type all too well. He was the quintessential invincible male who went to bed one night, suffered a heart attack, and never woke up again.
But she kept her thoughts to herself and watched him leave. When he was gone, she obediently locked the door, returned to the bedroom, and flopped down on the bed without even bothering to unpack.
The events of the day flooded her. She’d left New York in late afternoon for the flight out to Belize on an Avian cargo jet. Belize time was at least an hour or two behind that of the United States, meaning that back home it would be well into evening. Here it was still daylight. It was disorienting, to say the least.
Get over it. The only reason she was down here was so the police, or whoever, could do their job. Then she would return to her life as quickly as possible. How they were actually going about the investigation was another story because she hadn’t even bothered to ask. Her illogical lapse disturbed her since it was not in any way typical. It was Aaron’s fault. If she weren’t so obsessed with him, she would be her usual resourceful self.
The next day things would change. Her head would be back on straight and she would no longer feel tired and irrational. Foregoing the thought that she should probably find something to eat, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
***
Valerie’s dreams were not troubled, but they took her back to childhood as they so often did, urging her to relive vignettes of her life. Mostly she remembered the calm patience of her minister father, whom she had loved dearly.
Later, the dream drifted into winning a trophy for the high school’s swim team and wanting her mother to be there to see her accept it. Her mother had congratulated her, but as usual refused to attend. “Your father will be there,” she’d said confidentially.
Her father had been there for all her triumphs and her mini-tragedies. He had taken her and her brother on camping and fishing trips, taught her to swim, ride a bike, ice skate, sleigh ride, and pitch a curve ball as good as any boy.
Joel Redmond had guided her through potentially troubled waters until she went away to college with aspirations to study criminal justice. His death at the age of fifty-eight had occurred suddenly and devastatingly in her first year. The big man with the booming James Earl Jones voice—the powerful orator, whose sermons mesmerized even unruly toddlers and squalling infants—had been felled by a heart attack while shoveling snow in their driveway.
His death forever changed Valerie’s course and left her with an undeniable bitterness toward her needy mother, who was totally paralyzed by widowhood. If her mother had not been so clingy and taken on more of the family’s responsibilities h
erself, the way marriage should be, her father wouldn’t have been so burdened and probably would have lived longer.
Chapter 4
Morning. Aaron awoke from a deep sleep to the gentle undulation of the sea. He rose with practiced caution from the master berth in the cramped cabin of Saniyah II. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he ignored the sensation. The pain was expected, and it was better to feel something as a reminder instead of floating around like a brain-fogged addict, dulled by the Demerol he’d been given when he’d been released from the hospital. He had, in fact, not touched the stuff since he’d arrived in Belize three weeks ago today.
He knew that the healing process was well under way because his clarity of mind had long since returned and the physical discomfort was less. The first two weeks he hadn’t even been able to go out to the boat, but had instead stayed on land in the very same room at the hotel where Valerie was. He’d paid Dodge, Annie’s husband, for some assistance, and they’d sent him Estella, the pretty young woman who cleaned the rooms at their inn and worked as a waitress in the restaurant around the corner. She brought him meals and made runs to the pharmacy. The rest he’d taken care of himself without too many complications. He knew instinctively that Estella, despite being young, was a bit smitten with him and that she would have gone beyond cook and messenger duties free of charge, but he wasn’t one for indulging in such dalliances.
After splashing his face with cold water, he pulled on a pair of khakis and went up on deck. The sun had not yet risen, and wispy shrouds of charcoal-colored clouds smudged the magenta sky. The air was laden with tropical humidity, the ever-present indicator of another balmy day in paradise.
He surveyed the shore and focused on the familiar pink inn. Was Valerie up yet? For a brief second he had the urge to pick up his powerful binoculars and zoom in on her terrace. Not exactly a strange notion. He had used them often for surveillance, but this was different. He frowned at the realization; this urge was driven purely by voyeurism. Clenching his teeth, he resisted the impulse and turned to go back below deck.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been as gracious a host as he’d intended, mostly because the day had been long, and pain and crankiness had set in. If Valerie had been offended by his infamous bluntness, he was sure she’d give an indication by avoiding him as much as possible, which would be disappointing, but in both of their best interests. In either case, he’d find out soon enough because his plan for the moment was to take the speedboat over to the inn, book a different room, shower, shave, and attempt to behave civilly with her. He’d heard overnight from his contact in New York that the investigation was progressing well, and that meant she probably wouldn’t have to remain in Belize very long.
***
Valerie rose just before sunrise, and after showering and dressing in a turquoise T-shirt and bright yellow Bermuda shorts, she called Jasmine. Her friend didn’t pick up, so she left her a message—a brief recap of yesterday’s events. Having no clue when she would see Aaron again, she assumed she was on her own. Since Caye Caulker was only four miles long, there wasn’t much danger of getting lost. She’d have a chat with Annie and acclimate herself to the place.
The lobby of the inn was small and homey with well-appointed seating and colorful island paintings on the bright tangerine walls—more like the living room of an artist’s house. She found Annie wearing a wide-brimmed hat and pulling weeds from the impressive bougainvillea out back in the garden.
“I see you’re an early riser like Mr. Weiss,” she said, straightening.
Valerie smiled. “You’ve seen him?”
“Why, yes. He’s in his room.” She hesitated. “Isn’t he?”
In his room? Apparently, Annie thought she should have known that, and for a moment Valerie almost laughed, realizing, no doubt, that the innkeeper assumed that she and Aaron were intimate.
“Mr. Weiss told me that he was spending the night out on his boat,” Valerie countered. “I didn’t realize until now that he had given me his room.”
Annie laughed now. “Oh, but he is a cagey one, isn’t he? He probably did spend the night out on the boat, but he’s rented another room near yours. He was there maybe an hour ago.”
“Men, who can figure them out?” Valerie gave a dismissive nod of her head. “Just wondering if you could recommend a decent restaurant.”
“Sure. Assuming it’s breakfast you want, try La Isla Café. It’s just a short walk around the corner to your left. You can’t miss it.”
She thanked Annie and went back around the front. So Aaron had a room near hers. Interesting. Maybe he was still there and she should pay him a visit. No. She would keep to her original plan and go have breakfast by herself. He could easily find her if he wanted to.
At the charming café Valerie settled at a table on the terrace overlooking the sea and was poring over the morning news with a cup of coffee and an egg and cheese omelette—her cholesterol indulgence of the day—when a shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Aaron.
“May I join you?” he asked.
No, get lost. You’re intruding, she thought, bemused by what a lie that definitely unspoken statement was. “Of course you may,” she said.
He looked dashingly handsome in a dark blue polo shirt and spotless white linen pants, colors that set off his just a hint browner than Mediterranean-toned skin. As before, the sunglasses were present, but when he sat down, she was pleased that he propped them on top of his head aviator style, allowing her, for the first time since she’d arrived, to see his ebony eyes.
The waitress, a curvy young thing with an upswept ponytail and a flight attendant’s smile, set a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs before him without even waiting for his order. He spoke a few words to her in Spanish that Valerie couldn’t quite interpret. The young woman’s smile deepened. She nodded courteously at Valerie and then moved to another table.
“You know her?” Valerie asked, wondering what that was about.
“Estella,” he said. “You’ll be seeing her often enough, since she also works at Annie’s Inn during the afternoons.” He proceeded to scarf down the food like a starving wolf. “I know most of the residents here. If not by name, by sight.”
“Do they know you?”
“They think they do.”
Typical response, Valerie thought and tried not to stare at him eating. He wasn’t uncouth, lacking in etiquette, or anything, but she had never seen anyone eat that fast before.
“How about if I take you on a little sight-seeing tour later?” Aaron said.
Her cue had arrived and she made direct eye contact. She wasn’t about to mince words or spare him this time. “That would be wonderful, if you’re up to it.”
His eyebrows arched slightly. “And why wouldn’t I be up to it?”
“Suppose you tell me, Aaron. My sources have informed me that you aren’t altogether on vacation in Belize either. Might rest and recuperation be more accurate?”
He smiled. The expression was slightly chilling, but boy did it come off rakish and charming. “Touché,” he said.
She winked, crossed her legs and sat up straighter. “I’m willing to listen when you feel like talking.”
His smile faded slowly and the way he studied her was so intense that if she were kindling, she would have ignited. “Did my good friend Noah and his lovely wife give you any specifics on how my infirmities should be dealt with?”
“No. Not at all. And I wouldn’t hold it against them for being worried about you. That’s what friends do. I’m sure you would feel the same if…”
“I’m aware of Noah’s concerns, but they are unwarranted. Yes, I wasn’t exactly in good shape a few weeks ago, but I’m just about over it.”
“I’m a nurse, as I’m sure you’re well aware,” Valerie said. “I’m doing private duty now, but I worked for two years in an inner city hospital and almost eight years in the ER at Englewood Hospital. In other words, I’ve seen just about everything from amputations to th
ird degree burns and gunshot wounds.” She stirred her coffee fiercely. “When you’re ready, I’d like to have a look at you so I can make that judgment call myself.”
“And suppose I say no?” His eyes met hers again, and he seemed intrigued by her unyielding determination.
“I will relentlessly stalk you all over Belize and take you down with a tranquilizer dart,” Valerie said. “After that I will get my way.”
“You are serious, no?”
“I am serious, yes.”
His eyes sparkled. Did she actually see a twisted glimmer of bad boy there?
“That might be entertaining,” he said.
She glowered. “Entertaining for me, not you.”
“Fine. I surrender.” He raised both hands in mock defeat. “Before we go on our tour, I’ll accompany you back to the hotel and you may have your way with me.”
You may have your way with me? The words resounded in her head—the way he said them, with that husky accent and overbearingly proper speech. He was dropping innuendoes all over the place and she was homing in on every one, spoken and unspoken. She swallowed hard. Don’t be a nymphomaniac twit. This is strictly Nursing 101, nothing more. At least not yet, anyway.
Aaron was on his best behavior when they returned to Annie’s Inn. She took him to what was now her room. He passed through the bedroom and abruptly went out on the terrace, taking a seat on a lounge chair. Valerie lingered in the bedroom, smiling unconsciously as she removed her medical bag from her suitcase.
She was grateful that he was considerate enough to allow her some breathing space in order to get her professional act together, because at the moment, way too many bizarre thoughts and images were crossing her mind, the worst of which involved her stepping out to find him waiting for her stark naked. Aaron? She’d totally lost it. No way would Mr. Cool, Calculating, and By the Book do such a thing.
Knowing full well that the Christian side of her shouldn’t even be considering such things, she went to the bathroom, washed her hands thoroughly and splashed very cold water on her face for good measure. When she joined him on the terrace, the only thing missing was his shirt. She exhaled.
The Sea of Aaron Page 4