The cop hired to watch the traffic was at their side now. “Sometimes storms weaken the branches,” he said. “You two all right?” He was an older officer, who spoke quietly, with certainty.
Robert met the cop’s eyes. If he persisted with his angry suspicions at the moment, he would find himself locked up—or worse. Jillian would retreat from him, angry that he was casting aspersions on her precious family again. He was tempted to tell her that it was her own grandfather who’d first been suspicious of them.
He didn’t say anything, simply nodded at the officer, rising stiffly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”
“You sure you two are all right?” the officer persisted.
“We’re fine,” Jillian insisted.
“Good thing Grandfather decided to stay at the hotel this morning,” Eileen said. “This might have given him a heart attack.”
“It almost gave me a heart attack,” Theo insisted.
“Let’s get this cleared up,” Joe Murphy suggested. He paused, looking back at Daniel. “That is, if you want to go on. We can probably get permission to continue tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah. I think we should stop,” Daniel said.
“Wait,” Griff protested. “I have a date tonight after dinner—a late date. Jilly’s a trooper. She isn’t going to let a little near-death experience stop her from working—right, Jillian?”
“I’m perfectly fine, and more than willing to go on,” Jillian said. “That is…Robert, if you are.”
He felt like telling them all to stop and get serious—something sure as hell was going on. But they would all just look at him as if he were crazy, and when he needed his credibility, really needed it, he wouldn’t have any.
“Sure. Sure, Jillian. If that’s what you want.”
“So, Daniel, do we continue the shoot?” Gracie asked, turning over her page of notes.
“Yes, Gracie, we’re going ahead,” Connie said, sounding irritated. She was by Jillian’s side by then, dusting sand from her. “Stand still, it’s not so bad.”
“Hey, Brad, you’re the artist,” Daniel called. “Help me smooth out this sand.”
Brad, who had seemed frozen, his eyes only on Jillian, sprang to life.
The makeup artist had come over to Robert and Jillian, as well. She dusted sand from Robert while she waited for Connie to finish with Jillian, then started on her hair. Joe, Griff, Theo and some of the crew cleared the filming area until there was no sign of the branch or the coconuts.
“Continuity?” the director called.
One of his assistants, looking through the camera, called out, “Clear as a bell. We’re back in business.”
“All right, then, let’s finish up here.”
The count came again. “Five, four, three…” Silent two. Silent one. Robert moved, but he was too tense. They had to do it again.
And again.
On the fifth take, he got it right. The others were jubilant. They were done. As they congratulated one another, everyone seemed to have forgotten all about the branch that had fallen. Everyone but him.
They were heading back to the hotel for piña coladas by the pool and water sports on the beach for those in the mood.
Forty-five minutes later, he was listening to a calypso band, drinking a Bud and brooding behind his dark glasses. Jillian was at his side, wearing a floppy straw hat and shades, and sipping a drink out of a plastic, shark-themed take-home glass. She squeezed his hand.
“Robert?”
“Hmm?”
“Please—it was an act of God, not the attack of the killer coconuts.”
Was she looking at him anxiously from beneath those shades? He shook his head, leaning back. “Did you…?”
“What?”
He sat up, swinging his legs around so that he faced her. “Did you feel as if you were pushed before I actually got there?” he asked.
“What?” she repeated, frowning.
“It seemed as if you went flying out of danger before I actually reached you.”
“Maybe I jumped,” she murmured.
But she hadn’t jumped. Robert would have sworn to that. Oh hell, maybe he was losing it. After all, so far he hadn’t come up with any evidence of foul play anywhere. Of course, he still hadn’t heard back about the ashes he’d taken from the company furnace. That was all he had to go on, since he couldn’t find the missing girth.
And even if he were to find out something from the ashes, what could he prove?
That someone had murdered a cat?
A shadow fell over them. “Jillian?” It was Connie. “Race you.”
“You can beat me.”
“I know. So let me get my ego boosted.”
Jillian laughed, rising, setting her drink down and tossing her glasses, wraparound and hat onto her chair. Her long-legged, beautiful stride brought her to the pool. She dived in, taking the lead, but Connie caught up and passed her, just at the end of the large, rectangular pool.
They both laughed. Tried it again. Jillian was smooth and sleek in the water, but Connie was faster. A real swimmer. The two were in the midst of a splashing fight when Joe came up to the pool. “Hey, Griff has rented wave runners, down at the dock by the beach. Come on.”
The women climbed out of the water. Jillian came jogging back toward Robert, but he was already rising, anxious about what could happen out on the ocean.
“I’ve never ridden a wave runner,” she called to him. “Come on—it will be fun.”
“Jillian…”
She had already turned and was running, arm-in-arm with Connie, down the sand to the water.
He followed behind.
Jillian was already crawling on behind Griff.
For some reason, Daniel had Connie Murphy behind him. Joe Murphy was riding alone, and Theo had Gracie. Eileen and Gary were together; and there was a leftover Jet Ski for him.
“Robert, come on,” Griff called.
Robert felt a strange reluctance, but Jillian was headed out there. He hopped aboard. He had used a Jet Ski before, and now he revved his instantly to life and followed after them.
He drew abreast of Griff. He didn’t know why, but he remained edgy, his heart nearly in his throat. Griff waved to him. He heard the melodic sound of Jillian’s laughter as she waved, too, delighted with the speed, the wind, the sun and the water.
They sped, they dipped, they jumped the waves. Time passed. Griff was fast, as were the others, but he drove safely, keeping well clear of the rest of them.
Finally they went back in. The sun was falling, a huge orange disk draped above the sea. Breathless, Jillian ran over to stand beside him on the sand, slipping her arm through his and leading him back up the beach to the hotel.
Douglas had stayed in all day. Ironically, in sunny Florida he had come down with the flu. Henry had stayed in the suite with him.
Before they had to leave for dinner, Jillian said that she wanted to spend some time with her grandfather. They went together and found Douglas propped up on his pillows, looking his age.
“I hear there was another accident this morning,” he said grimly.
“A vicious coconut,” Jillian teased.
“Daniel said you pushed her out of the way, Robert.”
“I was closest,” he said.
“He said it was the strangest thing.” He turned toward Jillian. “He said it looked like you went flying before Robert even touched you.”
“I don’t know about that. It all happened so quickly,” Jillian told him. “Now let’s forget it. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s sick. Are you sure you don’t want us to stay and have dinner here with you?”
“Jillian, I appreciate the thought, but no. I’m going to have some soup, take a pill that young kid who swears he got through medical school prescribed for me, and then I’m going to sleep. I’m not just sick, I’m old. I love you dearly, but go away, leave me alone.” He grinned to take the sting out of the words. “See you in the morning. Nothing makes me happier
than when you young people are all out together.”
A few minutes later, they left him. Jillian was quiet.
“What is it?”
“I worry about him so much. He is old.”
“But in good health.”
“He has the flu. He looks sick as a dog.”
Robert smiled. “He’ll get over the flu. He has a good heart, strong lungs, and his mind’s as sharp as a tack.”
She suddenly rose up on her tiptoes, kissing his cheek. “Thanks for saying that.”
They joined the others in the lobby and decided to walk the few blocks to the restaurant. It was a beautiful night.
Finally, during the meal, Robert began to feel the tension leave him. The steaks were good, the service efficient, the talk pleasant. He kept quiet, watching, noticing certain things about the others.
Daniel still seemed shaken and Brad kept watching Jillian as if he were afraid she would disappear. Eileen only seemed tense when she talked to Gary. Connie and Joe were both extremely pleasant to everyone—except each other. Gracie was, as usual, watching Daniel protectively, and Griff was watching him.
But on the surface, all was well.
When they left the restaurant, they headed back to one of the dance clubs they’d visited the night before. Griff and Jillian started out together again, but when Daniel cut in, Griff walked over to the bar to stand by Robert. He was quiet for a few minutes, then turned on him pointedly.
“Why were you on my tail like that today out on the water?”
“On your tail?”
“Yeah, on my tail. Look, I know things are hot and heavy between you two, but she’s my cousin. I adore her. I’d die before I’d ever hurt her in any way.”
Robert stared at him in return. “If you say so.”
Griff set down his drink. “Well, I’ve got a date. Good night, Marston. See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, good night.”
Griff left them. Connie and Joe Murphy still seemed at odds, dancing with anyone but each other. Too bad. A great vacation…and neither one seemed to be enjoying it.
Robert was surprised when Jillian came to him, ready to conk out a little early. He wondered if she was more shaken by what had happened than she let on. He didn’t press the matter, commenting on nothing more than the sand, the sea and the stars, as they walked back to the hotel.
She seemed to appreciate that fact. When they reached their room, her soft silk cocktail dress seemed to melt from her shoulders to the floor. Moonlight poured in through the screen doors leading to the balcony, and the air was beautiful, carrying the fresh scent of the sea. In his arms, she was heaven.
They both slept to the sound of the surf….
Until he was awakened by the bloodcurdling sound of her scream. He leapt up, instantly on the alert, and realized once again that there was nothing wrong. Nothing but her dream.
He caught her shoulders, shaking her. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t seeing him. She kept screaming as if she were in pain. Terrible pain. “Jillian!”
Suddenly there was a pounding on the door.
“Jillian, wake up.” He reached for his robe, and hers. “Jillian!”
Her eyes widened, focusing on his at last.
“Put this on,” he ordered her.
“What…what…?”
“I think the police are here to arrest me,” he said dryly, throwing the door open. Daniel, who had the room next to theirs, was first in line, fist raised from pounding on the door. There were half a dozen others including a member of hotel security.
“You bastard! What were you doing to her?” Daniel roared, ready to lunge.
The security guard stopped him.
Embarrassed, concerned, but also angry, Robert lifted a brow, then backed away from the door, indicating that the security guard should enter. “Jillian, care to explain?”
She was crimson. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice was husky, embarrassed. “I had a nightmare. Daniel, I was dreaming. I’m so sorry….”
“So everything is all right in here?” the guard said skeptically.
“Everything is fine. Except that I’ve awakened everyone and I—I’m sorry.”
“This man wasn’t beating you…forcing you…” the guard began. He was as crimson as Jillian.
“Good Lord, no!” Jillian gasped.
“Well, then, uh, lady, whatever you ate tonight, don’t eat it again,” the guard said, then cleared his throat. “Okay, everyone, break it up. Back to bed!”
Everyone left but Daniel, who didn’t budge. He was staring at them.
“I had a nightmare, Daniel,” Jillian told him, eyes pleading.
“You think I’d ever hurt her?” Robert demanded, his temper shot.
Daniel let his breath escape slowly through his teeth. His eyes were hard on Robert; then he shook his head. “A dream, Jilly?”
“A nightmare,” she murmured.
Daniel lowered his head, then looked up. “Sorry, Marston.”
Robert nodded stiffly.
“About what, Jilly? About what?” Daniel asked.
“Fire,” she said.
“Fire? Where?”
“Just…fire.”
He nodded. “I guess there was a lot going on today. But you shouldn’t worry about a fire. There’s a smoke alarm right there, above your head. And a sprinkler system.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks, Daniel.”
“Yeah. Good night. Good night, Robert.”
“Good night.”
Robert closed the door behind Daniel, and turned to look at Jillian. He ran his fingers through his hair, ready to tell her that they had to do something, that this was dangerous. He still felt like a fool. As if half the people in the hallway were convinced, no matter what Jillian had said, that he was a terrible human being, a woman beater.
“Jillian,” he began, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. But she was just staring at him. And before he could say anything further, she burst into tears. “Jillian…”
He took her into his arms, his anger fading.
“Why?” she whispered miserably, face buried against him.
He ran his hands gently over her hair, cradling her head gently. “I don’t know,” he said. “But by God, we are going to find out.”
CHAPTER 13
The following Friday morning, Robert left the police station and returned to the office, furious. He stalked down the hallway to Douglas’s office, ignoring Amelia’s warning that Douglas was in a meeting. He let himself in, then closed the door.
Daniel was seated in front of Douglas’s desk, and both men looked irate, as if they were trying to calmly discuss a matter about which they held widely varying views.
Robert didn’t care. He strode forward, tossing a manila envelope on the desk.
“What is that?” Daniel asked.
“And why are you bursting through a closed door?” Douglas demanded, then sneezed. He had insisted on coming in to the office for a few hours each day.
“You should go home,” Robert said curtly. “If you die of pneumonia, you’re definitely not going to help anyone.”
Douglas’s brows shot up, but he seemed as much amused as outraged. “I’m not going to die of pneumonia—I refuse to. So, what is this?”
“After the cat died, I gathered the ashes from the furnace.”
“You what?” Daniel demanded.
“I gathered the ashes from the furnace, took them to a friend who’s a cop and had them analyzed.”
“Great. Let’s bring the cops in here because a cat died,” Daniel muttered.
“What did they find?” Douglas asked. His old eyes had remained steady on Robert.
“Rat poison.”
Douglas leaned forward. “We do keep rat poison around. For rats,” he said quietly.
“Wait a minute,” Daniel said. “How do you know there weren’t rat ashes in there, too? You couldn’t have made this startling discovery immediately following the cremation. You must have waited.”
“Yes. And that’s interesting, don’t you think? Of course, everyone knew about the cat’s death—except for Jillian and me.”
“What exactly are you implying?” Daniel asked, so angry that he was rising.
“Take it easy, Daniel. I’m not implying anything, except that someone here is careless with rat poison. And that I should have been told immediately about what had happened. I need to know everything of importance that goes on at the office. That cat died on Jillian’s desk.”
“Did it?” Daniel said, then struck back suddenly, like a cobra. “And who was sleeping with Jillian when she suddenly starting screaming as if she were being sliced to ribbons?”
“What?” Douglas demanded sharply. None of them had told him about the incident. He’d been too sick Sunday and Monday. So sick, in fact, that they’d delayed coming home until Tuesday night, when he was well enough to fly.
“She woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Woke up half the hotel,” Daniel said, staring at Robert.
“Did she think there was a fire?” Douglas asked quietly.
“Yes,” Robert said. “How did you know? I suppose she’s had the dream before?”
“Once that I know of. At the house,” Douglas said. “Something’s on her mind…” Douglas mused.
Robert leaned over the desk. “Rat poison wasn’t on her mind.”
“But how do you know that the rat poison wasn’t in a rat? Maybe the cat ate a damn rat,” Daniel said. “Something cats are prone to do.”
Robert straightened. He might have Douglas upset and worried, but Daniel was just plain angry.
Or else, he was doing a good job of pretending.
“I want all the rat poison out of here,” Douglas said. “If we have any more problems in the building, we’ll call in an exterminator. He can set those catch-and-release traps. No more poison.”
“I’ll take care of it right away.” Daniel exited the office as he spoke, but not before casting Robert another fulminating glance.
“Rat poison…” Douglas said. “It had to be an accident.”
Robert leaned on the desk again. “You told me to watch her.”
Douglas shook his head. “Just because of the dream. An old man’s fancy. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
A Season of Miracles Page 21