by Judi Lind
He grunted noncommittally. “Maybe if you’d told me what you were up to, I might have found you sooner.”
“Up to?”
“Ah, come on, Keely! Why don’t you tell me the truth for once?”
She shook her head, completely befuddled. Okay, so she’d decided to question Maya Olstagen. So what? She was a police officer and his partner on this venture. He had no right to get on her case for doing her job. “Noah, what are you so angry about?”
“You aren’t leveling with me. Since the first moment, you’ve done everything in your power to confuse and muddy the issues. Why, Keely? To protect your sister or to protect yourself?”
She stared at him. He hardly seemed like the same person. For the first time, Keely found herself wondering if he could have another, darker agenda. He’d hurled a lot of allegations, accusing almost everyone of being the informant. Were his accusations only a convenient smoke screen?
Noah himself could be the double agent, merely pretending to be on the trail of the counterfeiters. Maybe his “saving” her had simply been a well-timed ploy to gain her confidence.
The thought was frightening and unbearable. Not Noah Bannister.
Still, the memory of how easily he’d betrayed her trust ten years ago nibbled at the edge of her consciousness. She lay back and closed her eyes, suddenly weary although she’d slept for most of the past twenty-four hours.
Just before she dozed off she recalled something she’d meant to ask him. “Why couldn’t I open the steam-room door? There was nothing wrong with it when I went in.”
When he didn’t answer she opened her eyes. His expression was dark and stormy, like Scandinavian seas during a winter storm. “Someone wedged a steel bar from the weight room through the door handle.”
She sat up, her eyes popping in disbelief. “What! But why?”
“Why don’t you tell me? Supposedly you’re on this ship so that someone can pass you a set of counterfeit plates. It doesn’t make sense that they’d try to harm you. Unless there’s something you haven’t told me?”
“Like what?”
His eyes gleaming with barely repressed anger, Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. Tossing it in her lap, he snarled, “Maybe they were looking for this ten thousand dollars you deposited into your bank account last week?”
Keely cringed at the contempt she saw mirrored in his smoke gray eyes. Noah thought she was a criminal. He believed she was on the take.
Chapter Nine
Keely stared at the crumpled paper, her complexion fading to a pale alabaster. She snatched it up and held it protectively against her chest. “This was in my purse. How dare you go through my personal belongings!”
Ah, guilty as charged, Noah thought. She knew that the best defense was a strong offense. And it had taken her but an instant to go on the offensive. Noah was strangely disconcerted to discover that he gained no satisfaction from her all but admitted guilt.
Sitting in the barrel chair, he propped his feet on the edge of the bed, crossing his ankles in what he hoped was a pose of nonchalance. Slowly, almost lazily, he looked up, catching her gaze before it darted away. “I went through your purse to make sure nothing was stolen.”
“Stolen?”
“When I came back to the cabin to meet you for lunch yesterday, the door was wide open and it was obvious someone had been searching the room. What was that—a ploy to throw me off track?”
Keely scooted up in the bed and cast him a baleful look. “Noah, I’m not given to profanity, but right now I can think of a dictionary full of four-letter words that you deserve. Exactly what are you implying? That I’m somehow involved with the counterfeiters?”
He cocked his head and stared at her for a full ten count before replying. “I think you may very well be the leak in the San Diego PD.”
She threw back the coverlet and jumped out of bed. Noah had never seen her so angry. Fists bunched on her hips, she hissed, “That’s a rotten thing to say!”
If he hadn’t been so disappointed, so angry at the woman, he would have taken more time to appreciate the fact that her robe had eased open, exposing a very tantalizing length of thigh. Instead he said mildly, “Betraying a secret trust is a pretty rotten thing to do.”
“You ought to know.”
“I was talking about the oath you took when you joined the force. Has this conversation turned personal again? You keep changing the rules and forgetting to tell me, Keely.”
“Oh zip it, Bannister.”
He stood up and stretched. “Well, I will say that your righteous indignation act is nicely done. Bravo. Of course, it still doesn’t explain the nice chunk of cash in your checking account.”
She shoved the paper into her purse and threw it on the television. “My checking account is none of your business.”
“Maybe not, but if you’re on the take, I intend to make it my business.”
She whirled around to face him. Her look of utter contempt would have withered a hothouse flower. “I can’t believe you actually think I would take money for divulging departmental secrets. If you can believe that, then I never knew you at all.”
Noah was taken aback by the fervor of her response. Did he truly believe his own accusations, or was he merely tossing them around hoping for a reaction? Did he want her to be guilty? Maybe then he would have the strength to overcome this growing awareness, this sense of unfinished business between them. Still, he couldn’t honestly believe the Keely Travers he’d known for most of his life was guilty of sabotage.
But she was covering up something.
Choosing his words carefully, he watched for her reaction. “We have enough evidence to indict your sister. She was either taking payoffs or being blackmailed by Marty Sargent.” He held up a hand, staying her automatic denial. “Let me finish.”
“Please do. I just love your fairy tales.”
Ignoring her sarcasm, he continued, “Keely, I know your sister was involved. The only loose end is that departmental leak. Rosie didn’t have access to the kind of information that was compromised.”
“At least you’re man enough to admit as much.”
Never in his life had he wanted to grab a woman and show her in great detail exactly how much man he was. His fingers twitched with the need to touch her, his mouth parted in anticipation of kissing that self-satisfied smirk off her face. Instead, he turned his need into rage and threw out the one suspicion, the single accusation that he knew would hurt her the most.
“No, I don’t believe you sold departmental secrets. But I think your father did.”
Keely stared, dumbstruck. A roaring sensation filled her head, but whether it was from her ordeal, hunger or anger she couldn’t guess. “You’re a pig, Noah Bannister. It’s outrageous that you’d try to implicate my father in your filthy little scenario. Your theory is preposterous. And beneath even you. Everyone knows Mike Travers is a straight arrow, the best kind of cop.”
“Was, Keely. You know yourself that Mike changed when your mother got sick. He’s never been the same.”
“He was brokenhearted!”
“And burdened with huge medical bills, not to mention two teenage daughters to raise. That kind of pressure can make a man do anything.”
Her hands flapped in the air like desperate birds. “That was over ten years ago. My father was—is—a decent, honorable man and I won’t allow you or anyone else to dirty his reputation.”
She turned away, hiding the onslaught of hot tears pooling in her eyes. She couldn’t believe Noah would think, much less actually say, those awful things about Pop. He had to have known how much he would hurt her.
Noah had always been a man who thought things through. In fact, she used to razz him about his love of structure, his lack of spontaneity. Perhaps those accusations were carefully chosen. Maybe he hoped to surprise her into some kind of admission.
Or maybe he meant to distract her.
Noah Bannister was the only person who’d e
ver alluded to a traitor in the department. Chief Kapinski had been shocked and appalled. Keely herself had never heard any such rumors.
Why was Noah so certain that a leak even existed?
It was hard to believe that his story was an elaborate ploy, intended to cover his own guilt. It was just as difficult to imagine that the Noah she’d once loved—maybe still did—was the kind of man who had become so cynical, so hardened by his job that he would snoop through her personal belongings.
As much as Keely hated to admit the possibility, she couldn’t deny the evidence. First he’d accused Rosie, then Keely herself, and now their father. Noah seemed determined to pin this crime on someone in her family, no matter what the consequences.
Noah cleared his throat. “You never answered me. Where did that money come from?”
Keely shook her head, her eyes wide in bewilderment. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I simply don’t know.”
In an obvious attempt to dissipate the palpably crackling tension in the room, Noah murmured in a softer, more conciliatory tone, “Let’s drop the subject for now.”
She wouldn’t be dissuaded. “I agree we should forget my father’s alleged involvement. Permanently.”
“Keely, whoever this investigation points to is out of our hands. Insofar as your father is concerned, let’s say I’m still willing to keep an open mind.”
If his mind was as open as his big mouth, they wouldn’t be having this disagreement, she thought bitterly.
To change the subject, she said, “I’m hungry.” As soon as the words were spoken, she suddenly realized just how true they were.
Noah checked his watch. “It’s about a half hour till our breakfast seating. Since you slept away almost a full day, it probably hasn’t occurred to you that we’ll be docking in Ensenada later this morning.”
“That’s right! Today’s the day we meet our contact at Viva Zapata’s.”
She started toward the built-in wardrobe when Noah’s fingers at her elbow stopped her. “Are you sure you’re up to this? You know, another half hour in that steam bath and we might have lost you.”
Was that a hint of regret—even fear—she heard in his voice?
Her arm tingled from the pressure of his fingertips. Suddenly the tension started building between them again, only this time it wasn’t fueled by anger.
She took an involuntary step closer and Noah’s fingers slid up her arm, glided along her shoulder and brushed the sensitive flesh of her neck. Keely shivered in response.
His large, warm hand traveled upward and cupped her face. She nestled into his palm, finding both comfort and agitation in his touch. He knuckled the edge of her mouth and her lips parted in anticipation.
“Oh, sweetness,” he moaned. The husky catch in his voice intrigued and enticed her. “Oh, Keely, we weren’t supposed to—”
“To what?” she breathed.
He laughed mirthlessly. “To still need each other.”
“Do you need me, Noah?”
Suddenly, as if released from an intolerable spell, he pulled away and thrust his hands into his jeans pockets. “Of course I need you,” he said in a bluff, bantering tone. “You’re the counterfeiters’ contact. I’m just the tagalong husband.”
Unaccountably stung by his indifferent tone, she smiled brightly, matching her outward mood to his. “Well then, husband, I suppose you’d better tag along behind me to breakfast, because I’m starving.”
Obviously relieved by her false playfulness, he countered, “Then we ought to get a move on, woman. Time’s a wastin’.”
Fifteen minutes later they slid into their seats at the table.
“Good morning, Keely!” their tablemates greeted her, almost in unison.
“How are you feeling, hon?” Florence Hebert reached over and patted Keely’s hand.
“Much better. Thank you.”
Steve Gregg shook his head as if truly perplexed. “We heard about your accident. They said you got stuck in a steam booth?”
“That’s right,” Keely said, draping her napkin across her lap.
“That’s so weird. But I once got locked in my own bathroom,” Beth confided. “I told Steve the lock was sticking, but did he fix it? No, of course not.”
“I did so,” Steve protested.
“Sure. After I was stuck in there for over an hour.”
While the Greggs bickered and Fernando poured coffee, Keely glanced across the table at Maya Olstagen. While everyone else had expressed their concern for Keely’s well-being, Maya hadn’t uttered a word.
She looked up now and caught Keely’s thoughtful gaze. “Your face is still red,” Maya blurted, “otherwise you look fine.”
“No thanks to the prankster who locked the door.”
“Oh, come on, Keely. You don’t think the door was intentionally jammed, do you?” Willie Hebert was clearly skeptical.
Noah stirred his coffee and took a sip. “Since a steel bar was wedged between the door handle and the jamb, I’d say that was a pretty good sign she was deliberately locked in.”
A stunned silence clouded the atmosphere. Dieter finally broke the hushed chill. “Ach du lieber! Thank goodness you were found in time. For that, we must be grateful.”
As Fernando served their fruit cups, Florence cast a murderous scowl at her spouse. “At least your husband came looking for you. I think if I was missing less than a week, Willie wouldn’t even notice I was gone.”
“Now, Flo, you know that’s not true. Besides, they’re newlyweds. Course he missed her.”
As if suddenly reminded of his role, Noah wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. Still stinging from his rebuff in their room, Keely smiled sweetly and shrugged off his hand.
While the busboy picked up their empty goblets, Fernando returned with their breakfast. Keely had ordered French toast, and the thick, fragrant chunks of sweet Mexican bread captured her full attention. Served with slices of mango and papaya, the combination was exactly what her empty stomach needed.
She was cutting into her second slice when Maya addressed her. “Keely, do you have any idea who it was? The person who locked you up like that?”
“I don’t have the slightest notion, Maya. But you had only been gone a moment. Are you sure you didn’t see anyone?”
The blond woman cocked her head and stared into space as if mentally retracing her steps that day. “No. I don’t think so. I’m certain the corridor was empty when I left the gym. Although the Greggs were in the card room.”
Beth Gregg looked up sharply. “We were playing pinochle. What’s your point?”
“Oh, no slur intended,” Maya said quickly. “Just pointing out to Keely that I wasn’t the only person in the vicinity.”
Dieter patted his wife’s hand. “Darling, don’t excite yourself. I’m sure Keely wasn’t accusing you of anything.”
“I’m not so sure.” Maya arched a fine, golden eyebrow. “Were you accusing me of locking you in, Keely?”
BY THE TIME they headed down the gangplank, Noah couldn’t wait to get off the ship. He hated petty bickering, and Maya’s defensive attitude had almost turned breakfast into a brawl.
From Keely’s stiff shoulders and thrust-out chin, he could tell she was still fuming over the way Maya had upset everyone.
One moment, Keely had been stealthily interrogating the Swiss woman, the next moment, Maya was practically accusing Keely of fabricating the entire episode.
Tempers had flared and the Olstagens had ultimately left the table in a huff. Noah couldn’t decide if Maya’s indignation was indicative of her guilt or her innocence. If she was the person who had bolted the steam-room door, would she want to call attention to herself by flagrantly sparking a verbal battle?
On the other hand, if she was innocent, what was she so steamed about?
At any rate, Maya Olstagen was the least of their worries right now. They had nearly two hours to kill before their assignation at Viva Zapata’s Cantina, so they decided to do a little
sight-seeing.
Keely’s hopes for a cool day were dashed by soaring temperatures. The thermometer was already approaching the ninety-degree mark. And it was barely ten in the morning.
Still, they had both dressed for the heat. And as Noah strolled behind Keely, he was truly grateful for the heat wave. Her gently swaying hips, clad in closefitting white shorts, held far more interest for him than any trinket the street vendors were trying to hawk.
Even though they’d eaten scarcely an hour before, Keely insisted they stop at a roadside stand for a fish taco. Although the local specialty sounded a bit exotic for Noah’s tastes, he was pleasantly surprised when he bit into the messy treat.
After they’d used up his supply of paper napkins, the taco vendor happily directed them to a nearby open-air market. As they made their way between the crowded stalls, Noah watched Keely’s eyes light up when she saw other tourists loudly bargaining for rock-bottom prices.
He could tell she was anxious to join the fray.
Keely had already bought a colorful serape blanket, a huge straw handbag and a gaudy piñata in the shape of a parrot when Noah decided to get her out of the market before they had to rent another stateroom just to store her bounty.
Slinging the serape over his shoulder, he took her elbow and led her firmly toward the exit. “I hate to come between you and your bargains, but we need to find that tavern.”
Keely pointed to a passing booth. “Wait, wait! Did you see those onyx candlesticks? They were magnificent!”
“Yes they were,” he agreed calmly. “So was that chess set and those lace tablecloths. But we have an appointment, remember?”
She glumly fell into step beside him. “I know, but…something in me would just like to forget about this whole mess. Just enjoy the holiday like everyone else.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a job to do.”
“Even if everything goes according to plan and we take possession of the plates, it’s still like sticking our pinkies into a dike. Stopping one engraver isn’t going to keep the bogus money out of circulation.”
He shook his head. “Quit talking like a fatalist. Cops can’t afford to think that way and you know it. We’ll stop this counterfeiter today and another crook tomorrow.”