Renner glanced at his watch. “I’m booked on a ten o’clock flight to Hawaii. I’m going to be on that flight, Artie. Tell Vaden and Guthrie to expect me on Orleana first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe even this evening if I can make connections.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Dan.” As usual, Fitzpatrick knew, he was wasting his breath. “We can wait a few more weeks. Better to be sure the Slater house is vacant. That’ll give us plenty of time to search for the cave entrance.”
“I’ve had it with waiting. I’m going there myself and I’ll make my decisions on the spot. Vaden’s already on site, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s staying at a little inn there called Hank and Rosie’s or something equally quaint. Guthrie is due to arrive tomorrow. Look, Dan, these guys are good. They know what they’re doing. It’s worth it to pay them a little standing around time so that in the end they can do the job right.”
“The way LePage did it?”
“Okay, so LePage was a mistake. He wasn’t as good as he was supposed to be. These things happen.” Artie said the words soothingly, the same way he would tell a tax shy investor that last year’s shelter had been a miscalculation but this year’s was going to be a sure-fire winner. The trick was to make it sound like he had taken an even bigger loss than the client and he was still able to be a man about it, not a nervous wimp.
“Waiting around to see what the woman and her boyfriend are going to do would be another big mistake, Artie. Has it occurred to you that this guy who’s with the Slater woman might be connected to LePage in some way?”
“What the hell?”
“Yeah, think about it. You got to admit, in a way it makes sense. After all, whoever he is, he made contact with the daughter, just like LePage did. Got himself in bed with the woman and in good with the family, just the way LePage did. And now he’s staying on with the daughter after the parents leave. It’s a little too pat, Artie. Dammit, I can’t fool around any longer. Tell Guthrie I’ll meet him in Honolulu and we’ll fly to Orleana together. We’ll go in as a couple of tourists. Vaden will work separately. Guthrie and I will pretend we don’t know him. Might be useful not to have Vaden connected with Guthrie and myself. You never know.”
“I think maybe you’ve been watching too much television, Dan.”
“Just do as I say, Artie. Get the message to Vaden and Guthrie that I don’t want any overt contact. Got it?”
“I got it.”
“Good. I’m on my way. Oh, and tell Vaden that if this joker who’s sleeping with Slater’s daughter tries to leave the island before I get there, I want him stopped.”
“Uh, Dan, what do you mean, you want him stopped?” Artie was suddenly feeling extremely cautious.
“If Guthrie and Vaden are as competent as you say, they’ll know exactly what I mean.” Renner slammed down the phone and stared at the hapless instrument in brooding silence. Then he swung around in an explosion of energy and went to work to finish packing his discreetly initialed, Italian leather flight bag.
Artemus Fitzpatrick gingerly replaced the receiver on his end and breathed a sigh of relief that he was only the broker in this deal. Just the middleman. Buy a little here, sell a little there, but don’t get mixed up in the action, he told himself. Words to live by. He might never make it quite as big as Renner was going to make it, but there was something to be said for erring on the side of caution. The last thing he wanted to do was end up standing on a street corner again.
Amy awoke with the vague sense of having had her first full night’s sleep in eight months. But the headache that kicked in when she moved her head less than an inch convinced her the price of that sleep was much too high. She’d rather lie awake half the night than feel like she did.
Her stomach stirred uneasily as Amy lifted herself up on one elbow and gazed out at the morning sunlight on the sea. She took a couple of deep breaths, waiting for things to settle. Then she concentrated hard, trying to remember exactly what had happened. She had spent the evening talking to Rosie, that much was clear. Something had been said about her mother and Michael Wyman and Wyman’s girlfriend and Douglas Slater. All very complicated. Then Jed had appeared to take her home.
A few words had been exchanged on the trip back to the house, but Amy couldn’t remember how much of the conversation had taken place inside her head and how much had been verbal. Her frown intensified.
“Well, if it isn’t little Miss Sunshine. Think you can handle a cup of coffee?”
Amy groaned and turned her head slowly toward the door. Jed was leaning against the jamb, two mugs of coffee in his big hands.
Big hands. Rosie had made some crack about the significance of large hands. Amy flushed as memories started trickling back.
“Bathroom first.” The words were a little weak, but Amy managed to sit up. The sheet fell to her waist and she discovered she was naked. Automatically she grabbed the sheet again. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out who’d undressed her. “Would you please hand me my robe?”
“How long are you going to continue being shy around me, sweetheart?” Nevertheless, Jed strolled into the room, set the coffee mugs down on a table and went to the closet to pull out her lightweight kimono. He walked to the bed, holding it out for her. “Here we go. Up and at ‘em, Amy. The day is slipping away.”
“Let it slip. I don’t think I’m up to catching it before it falls.” She yanked the robe out of his hands, tucked it around herself and got carefully to her feet. “My God, I feel awful.”
“That guava juice will get you every time.”
“It wasn’t the guava juice, it was whatever Rosie was adding to it.” Amy headed for the bathroom with what she hoped was a stately tread. “I got some sleep, though. I just wish I could enjoy it more this morning.”
“Anyone who’s tried drinking himself to sleep can tell you that the pain is definitely not worth the gain,” Jed said calmly as Amy stepped into the bathroom.
“You sound like an expert on the subject,” she muttered before starting to close the door.
“Let’s just say I’ve conducted a few scientific experiments of my own in that particular area.”
Amy caught the dry note in his voice and more memories came flooding back. She peered at him from the crack in the almost closed bathroom door. “Were you conducting scientific experiments when you took that bullet in the leg?”
“I see you do remember what happened yesterday before Rosie started pouring guava juice cocktails down your throat.”
“You said you were a government agent,” Amy searched his face as she recalled the scene in the clinic office.
“And you said better that than a paid mercenary,” Jed retorted coolly. The familiar watchful look was back in his eyes.
Amy quietly shut the door. The last of her vague memories fell into place. She had told him something about LePage.
When she emerged a few minutes later, clutching the kimono around her, she headed straight for the coffee Jed held out. She gave her full attention to it, sipping appreciatively.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “When you’re dressed, come on downstairs. I’ll fix breakfast.”
“I don’t think I could eat.”
“Wait and see.” He left the bedroom without a backward glance.
He was taking charge again, Amy thought in resignation. And she was too hung over to put up much resistance. With a sigh she returned to the bathroom to take a shower.
Half an hour later, Amy found herself sitting down to two perfectly fried eggs, a pile of hash browns, toast and three strips of bacon.
“Cholesterol,” she murmured weakly.
“Protein,” Jed retorted. “Fortunately, your parents keep a well stocked freezer, and your mother’s pantry seems boundless.”
It wasn’t worth an argument. Not this morning at any rate. Amy picked up a fork and gingerly cut into the eggs.
“All right,” Jed said casually as he sat dow
n across from her, “I think we’ve postponed this long enough. Who the hell was LePage and why have you been having anxiety attacks at night for the past eight months?”
“I got kind of chatty last night, didn’t I?”
“It all would have come out sooner or later. I want to know the whole story, Amy.”
“Why?” she asked simply.
“That should be obvious.”
“Because you’re sleeping with me on a casual basis? You think that entitles you to know all the details?”
He smeared his toast with egg yolk and took a bite. “Whatever else it is, it’s not casual. Talk, Amy.”
She looked down at her plate, knowing that this moment had been inevitable. She’d both anticipated and dreaded it. Perhaps she’d used the alcohol last night as a way of slipping past her own self-imposed defenses. She had said far too much in the Jeep, but that was probably because, deep down, she had wanted to say it and get it over with. She needed to take the risk of telling the truth because she needed to know how Jed would react.
“It’s a long story,” Amy said.
“We’ve got all day.”
Her head came up abruptly, her body growing tense. “Have you ever watched a man die, Jed?”
He looked at her for a long moment and then finished eating the slice of toast. “You watched LePage die? You saw him drown?”
“Worse than that.” She shuddered, losing interest in her food. “I was responsible, in a way. I could have saved him, I think.” She’d never actually said the words aloud. They sounded very strange.
“Christ, Amy. What’s been going on inside your head for eight months?” Jed’s tone was surprisingly gentle.
“A nightmare I can’t seem to shake.”
“Finish your breakfast,” Jed said with sudden decision. “Something tells me we’d better conclude this after you’ve eaten.”
Amy nodded. “You’re probably right.”
She managed to get down one of the eggs and one slice of toast before she gave up and followed Jed out to the veranda with a second cup of coffee. He settled her into a lounger and sat down across from her, his mug cradled in his hands. His gaze was intent. Amy hesitated a moment longer, gathering her thoughts, and then began telling the whole story. It was a relief to talk about it at last.
“I told you I met LePage about three weeks before I flew out here eight months ago. What I didn’t know was that it had all been arranged. He knew who I was before he set up our initial meeting.” Amy shook her head. “I was such a fool.”
“Just tell me the story, Amy. You can skip the asides.”
“The visit here with my folks went exactly as I told you. All very casual, very friendly. But he kept asking questions about the underwater caves. I told him my father refused to let anyone dive in them. He didn’t argue, but he kept saying he wanted to see the entrance. He was fascinated with them. Like an idiot, I let him talk me into showing him the entrance pool. He swore the last thing he’d want to do was actually dive there.”
“But that last night, he decided to.”
Amy nodded struggling to deal with the memories as they threatened to overwhelm her. “Something woke me that night, Jed. Maybe the sound of the front door closing. Maybe just some kind of intuition. I don’t know. I’ve never been sure. But I walked out on the veranda and saw him starting into the jungle with his diving gear. And I…followed.”
Jed whistled soundlessly between his teeth. “Oh, Amy.”
“I know. It wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done. But I knew something was terribly wrong. I was the one who had brought him here to the island. I had shown him the caves. I had to know what he was up to. I followed him to the caves and watched him put on his tank and gear and enter the water. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t understand why the cave diving was so important to him that he would deliberately go against his host’s instructions. And in the middle of the night? I assumed he was just some kind of daredevil fool. Then I found the map.”
“What map?”
“He’d been studying it before he entered the water. He left it under his duffel bag when he went into the caves. I picked it up and looked at it. He’d left a small flashlight next to the map.” Amy stared out at the sunlit sea. “I knew right away what I was looking at. It was a diagram of the first few meters of the caves. It had to be. Someone had sketched the opening and the water level at the surface and even drawn an arrow from the main entrance tunnel into a side cave. I couldn’t see how anyone could know what the cavern looked like inside. As far as I knew, no one had ever dived those caves. But the map was very explicit.”
“So explicit that you figured LePage had gone in for more than some casual sightseeing?”
“I didn’t really know what to think. I just stood there waiting, knowing he’d have to come out within forty-five minutes or so. He came out in a lot less time than that.” Amy fell silent, taking a fortifying sip of coffee.
“He emerged and found you waiting, right? Dammit, Amy, how could you have been so foolish?”
“Maybe because I wasn’t accustomed to dealing with people like Bob LePage,” she snapped.
“All right, all right,” Jed soothed. “Just tell me the rest.”
She took a breath. “He surfaced and found me waiting with the map and the flashlight in my hand. His hands weren’t empty either, Jed. He was carrying a locked, waterproof box. When he saw me he called me a fool, too. Said I should have had the sense to mind my own business. Then he calmly climbed out of the pool and carried the box over to his duffel bag. I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there, staring at him, trying to figure out what was happening. When he took off his tank and gear and knelt down beside his bag I finally managed to ask him what was going on.”
Jed sighed. “What did he do? Pull a gun out of the bag?”
Amy’s gaze snapped back to his. “How did you know?”
“Somehow I just saw it coming.”
“Well, you’re right. Unfortunately, I didn’t see it coming until it was too late. He reached into the duffel bag and the next thing I knew he was holding a gun on me. He told me it was too bad I’d followed him because he was going to have to kill me. He’d like to make it look like an accident, he said. He was going to knock me out and let me drown. But if that didn’t work, he didn’t have any qualms about keeping it simple with a bullet. He would leave my body wedged deep in the caves where no one would ever find it.”
Jed’s hand was holding the mug in a grip that threatened to crack the thick pottery. His eyes were as cold as the deepest part of the sea. “Jesus, Amy.”
“I know. I was doing a little off-the-cuff praying myself at the time. But I didn’t get the feeling there was going to be any divine intervention.” Amy shuddered, remembering her stark fear that night. “What saved me, the thing that eventually got him killed instead of me, was his greed to see what was inside the box. He had to know if the emeralds were inside.”
“What emeralds?”
“That’s exactly what I asked him.” Amy let her head sink back against the lounger and remembered.
“What emeralds? What on earth are you talking about? Please, Bob, I don’t understand any of this.” She was shaking, Amy realized, but not so badly that she couldn’t stand. She still seemed to have some control over her own body. Except for her eyes. She couldn’t seem to raise them above the level of the gun in LePage’s hand.
LePage reached out to yank the metal box closer. “The Russian emeralds, you fool. You don’t have any idea what’s been sitting in that cave for twenty-five years, have you?”
Amy shook her head, speechless. Keeping the gun trained on her, LePage reached back into his duffel bag and removed a small packet. With a one-handed movement he shook the key out of the packet. Then he picked it up and inserted it into the box. There was a soft, grating sound but no movement.
“Damn thing’s corroded shut,” LePage hissed furiously.
He tossed the key to Amy. “Here, you work on i
t. I can’t manhandle that old lock and keep an eye on you at the same time. As long as you’re here, you might as well be useful.” He straightened and toed the box toward her. “Come on, go to work. Unjam that lock. I can shoot it off if I have to, but I’d like to keep things quiet around here as long as possible.”
Amy sank to her knees in front of the box. With trembling fingers she fit the key into the lock and began to twist it gently. Metal scraped on metal. LePage kept talking, his excitement making his tongue limber.
“Wyman made a deal with some Russian agents twenty-five years ago,” LePage explained as he watched the box with avid eyes. “He was going to sell one of his designs. But he didn’t want cash or gold. He wanted something light and portable and that meant gemstones. The agreement was for six first class emeralds, I’m told.”
“Who told you?” Amy asked in a low voice as she wiggled the key.
“Never mind who told me. It’s not important now. What’s important is that I get my hands on those stones. This is the deal of a lifetime.”
“What will you do when you have them? Assuming they’re in here?”
“I’m going to disappear, of course. The LePage ID has been useful for a couple of years, but it’s time I made a new man of myself. Hurry up, dammit.”
“I’m trying.” She was. It had occurred to Amy that if there really was a packet of emeralds inside the box she might be able to use them to distract LePage. It was obvious the stones were his sole interest.
“Did you know your father probably killed Wyman?”
Amy paused, staring at him. “You’re lying.”
He saw at once that he’d found a vulnerable point. With a low chuckle, LePage probed further, the beast in him more than happy to inflict a little extra pain. “Not according to my research.”
“What research?” she demanded.
“I always do my homework in these cases.”
“What are you talking about? And what do you mean ‘these cases’?” She was desperate, confused and now, over poweringly furious. How dare he drag her father into this?
On the Edge Page 16