His Only Obsession (Protectors Book 27)

by Beverly Barton

  “Will, we have confirmation that a Dr. Emery Arnell rented a 422 Sport Sedan cruiser, captained by a man named Mick McGuire. And before you ask, I’m running a check on McGuire as we speak,” Daisy Holbrook said on the other end. “Arnell paid cash. And according to what I was able to find out, he rented the cruiser for a month.”

  “Any idea if the cruiser has left port?”

  “I don’t have that information, yet. But the cruiser either is or was docked at the Puerto Nuevo Marina.”

  “Hang on a minute,” he said to Daisy, then spoke to Gwen. “Your father rented a cruiser, but we don’t know whether or not he’s left the country yet.” Talking again to Daisy, Will asked, “Any info on Jordan Elders?”

  “Not much more than you already know. He’s twenty-eight. Was a student of Dr. Arnell’s and later his assistant. He has no criminal record. As a matter of fact, he’s squeaky clean.”

  “Hmm…”

  “By the way, the cruiser the professor rented, the Sun Dancer, is equipped with upgraded cat diesel engines, with 435 horsepower each. That means speed. Why would he need a cruiser with that much horsepower?” Daisy asked. “What’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

  “Drug running.”

  “Bingo. And that fits right in with what I’ve found out about Molly Esteban. It seems the lady’s got a record a mile long.”

  Will grunted. When his gaze met Gwen’s, he forced a faltering smile. “Thanks, Daisy. Stay in touch with any updates.”

  “Will do.”

  He put away his phone and turned to Gwen. “Let me take care of the bill, then we should head off to the marina.”

  When Will stood, she stood, then reached over and grabbed his arm. “I heard you mention something about drug running.”

  Will hesitated, then told her, “The cruiser your father rented has a lot of horsepower, and fast boats are often associated with illegal activities. But that’s not necessarily—”

  “We’re going to be honest with each other, remember? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Damn, why had he made a pact with her? “Your father’s lady friend, Molly Esteban, has a criminal record. It’s possible she’s using your father and his quest to find his mythical island as a front.”

  “Oh, God!” Gwen rubbed her head and mumbled a few choice curse words that surprised Will, she being such a soft-spoken Southern lady. “Daddy, Daddy…what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

  “Come on.” Will motioned for them to get going. “If we’re lucky, they haven’t left yet.”

  “The Sun Dancer left late yesterday sometime,” the charter office employee, a Mr. Calvino, told Will. “Dr. Arnell seemed eager to leave.”

  “Do you know where he was going?” Gwen asked, praying he knew the answer.

  “Kingston, Jamaica,” Calvino replied.

  “Which means they’re probably already there,” Will said.

  “More than likely. I believe Señora Esteban was eager to meet some friends there.”

  “What do you know about Mick McGuire?” Will asked. “I assume he works for your company.”

  “Actually, Dr. Arnell said he didn’t need us to recommend anyone to captain the Sun Dancer. He said that he’d already hired Mr. McGuire.”

  Will groaned. “Anything else you can tell us? Ms. Arnell is quite concerned about her father. Uh, his health isn’t good and she’s afraid he’s not up to making this journey.”

  Calvino shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I know.”

  “One final question,” Will said. “Other than McGuire and Señora Esteban, who else was with Dr. Arnell?”

  “Just his assistant, a young man. I don’t recall his name.”

  “You didn’t see two young women with them? Girls about twenty?”

  “No, no young girls.”

  Will shook hands with Calvino and thanked him, then led Gwen out of the office and down the wharf toward the parking area.

  Assuming her partnership with Will had come to an end since the girls weren’t with her father, Gwen said, “I’ll get a reservation on the next flight to Kingston.”

  “You aren’t going to Kingston alone. We’re in this together, remember.”

  “What about your assignment? Mr. Calvino said there were no young women with my father and Jordan.”

  “Just because he didn’t see them doesn’t mean they didn’t board the cruiser and head off to Jamaica with Jordan Elders.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t saying that just to reassure me that you’re not abandoning your assignment to help me find my father?”

  Will looked at her intensely. “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you feel sorry for me. If that’s the case—”

  He grabbed her shoulders, startling her enough that she gasped. “I do not feel sorry for you. Got that? And if I didn’t think there’s a damn good chance Cheryl and Tori are with Jordan Elders, I wouldn’t fly to Jamaica with you. And if you think I’m going with you because I’ve got ideas about you and me, think again. I like you well enough, brown eyes, but you’re hardly the stuff a wet-dream fantasy is made of.”

  Guess he put you in your place, an angry and hurt inner voice told Gwen. She blew out a huffing breath. “That’s good to know, since you’re not exactly my idea of Prince Charming.”

  “Are you looking for Prince Charming?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m not. I’m not interested in putting up with a man, any man, not even Prince Charming,” Gwen told him, her voice quavering. “My father and my ex-husband proved to me that most men are incapable of putting the needs of the woman they profess to love above their own.”

  Will grinned. “Good. I’m glad we got that settled.” He grasped her elbow and herded her along with him toward his rental car.

  She kept up with his long-legged gait, but just barely. When they reached the car, Will released his hold on her and unlocked the passenger-side door. Just as she slid into the seat, his cell phone rang. Gwen held her breath until he answered.

  “Pierce here.”

  She watched his facial expressions change rapidly, going from curiosity to dismay. “Look, you two stay put. I’m on my way.”

  Will didn’t say anything to Gwen until he went around the car and got in on the driver’s side. He slammed his big hands down against the steering wheel several times and cursed loudly.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “The phone call was from a girl named Courtney Downey. She and another girl are staying at the Kress villa. They’re friends of Cheryl and Tori. The Puerto Nuevo police just left the villa. It seems the body of a young blond woman was found on the beach not far from here early this morning. She had a set of keys in her pocket with a key ring that had a photo of the Kress villa on it. The police want the girls to come down to the morgue and see if they can identify the body.”

  “Is Cheryl Kress a blonde?” Gwen asked.

  “No, but Tori Boyd is.”

  Chapter 4

  Will and Gwen had accompanied Courtney and Kerry to the morgue. Gwen had insisted on being with him when the nervous girls viewed the body of the young blonde found on the beach. He sympathized with what the girls had to face, and was damn grateful there was an older woman around to oversee the emotional young females, a job he didn’t like, didn’t want and avoided at all costs. Not much scared Will, but women’s emotions unnerved him in a way little else did.

  “Oh, God, it’s Tori!” Kerry had cried, then turned around and fallen into Will’s arms. Crying her eyes out, she’d clung to him.

  Courtney had taken one look at the corpse, went white as a sheet and threw up. Gwen had put her arm around the girl and led her to the nearest restroom.

  After their visit to the morgue, Gwen waited in the car with the girls, playing mother hen, which apparently came naturally to her. Will went inside the police station alone and spoke to the officer in charge of the case.

  “Now that the girl has been identified,
we will contact her family in the United States,” a middle-aged, slightly balding Detective Sanchez said.

  “Tori Boyd was last seen with her friend, Cheryl Kress. I’m a P.I., working for Cheryl’s father. I’d appreciate any information you can give me about Ms. Boyd’s death. That info might somehow help me find Ms. Kress.”

  “We can’t say for sure until an autopsy has been performed, but we believe the girl was strangled, so we are treating this case as a homicide.”

  “Any suspects?” Will asked.

  “No, none at this time.”

  Will handed Sanchez his business card. “I’m leaving later today for Jamaica to follow a lead on Ms. Kress’s whereabouts. I’d appreciate your contacting me if you get a break in this case.” The only real lead Will had was knowing Cheryl had last been seen with Jordan Elders. If the girl was still alive, there was a good possibility she was with this guy.

  Sanchez nodded, then asked, “Does Señorita Kress’s family wish to report their daughter as missing?”

  “No, not yet. They prefer for my agency to handle the search for the time being.”

  Will finished his conversation with Sanchez as quickly as possible, knowing he had two badly shaken and frightened young women waiting in his car. Thank goodness for Gwen. Although he’d noticed her discomfort while they’d been at the morgue, she had been a rock for Courtney and Kerry, saving him from having to deal with them. Comfort and understanding weren’t his strong suits. As his old man had often said, “That’s women stuff. Leave it to them.”

  When he returned to his rental car, he found Gwen in the backseat between the two girls. Courtney rested her head on Gwen’s shoulder, while Kerry, her eyes glazed, held tightly to Gwen’s hand.

  The minute Will got in the car, Gwen said, “We’re taking the girls back to the villa to pack, and then we’re personally putting them on the first available flight back home.”

  “We are?” He locked gazes with Gwen. Obstinate determination glinted in her dark eyes. “Okay, we are.”

  Two hours later, with Kerry and Courtney safely aboard a flight back to the United States and Gwen checked out of her hotel, Will drove the two of them back to his hotel. While they had waited at the airport with the girls, Will had contacted Sawyer and filled him in on the situation.

  Will unlocked the door to his room, motioned for Gwen to enter first, then suggested she take a seat.

  “I need to contact my boss and see if he’s spoken to Mr. Kress before I get my stuff together,” Will said. “It could be that with this new development, he’ll want the police involved in his daughter’s disappearance and Sawyer will pull me in off the case.”

  “If that happens, then you’ll go back to Atlanta today, won’t you?” Gwen looked at him, a silent plea in her big brown eyes.

  “If I’m called off this case, I’ll get you to Jamaica today and help you try to find your father before I fly back to Atlanta.”

  Gwen released a deep sigh. “Thank you. You don’t have to, you know. You aren’t obligated to—”

  “All I’m promising is to take you to Kingston and make some inquires.” He held up his hand in a “stop” gesture when she started to speak. “If your father’s not there or already gone by the time we arrive, then you’re on your own. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  Will sat on the edge of the bed and called Dundee headquarters. Daisy put him through to Sawyer immediately.

  “I just got off the phone with Mr. Kress,” Sawyer said. “For the second time today. Since learning about Tori Boyd’s death, that she was possibly murdered, he’s understandably upset. He’s concerned about his daughter’s safety, so he’s flying to Puerto Nuevo later today, with Tori Boyd’s parents, and they plan to speak personally to the local authorities.”

  “Then I’m off the case?”

  “No, not at all. Mr. Kress wants you to follow any and all leads. He wants Dundee’s on the case until his daughter is found.”

  “Okay, that means taking the Dundee jet to Jamaica today. And it’s possible I may need to rent a cruiser.”

  “Buy or rent whatever you need. Money is no object to Mr. Kress. He wants his daughter found.”

  “Okay. I’ll check in later, if and when I know something.”

  His conversation finished, Will glanced over his shoulder at Gwen. “I’m still on the case, and I’ve been given a blank check for expenses. Is there anything you need to do in Puerto Nuevo before we go?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then come on. I’ll call the pilot and tell him to have the jet ready for us when we arrive at the private airstrip. We’re going to Jamaica.”

  Gwen had never flown in a private jet before and had to admit she was more than a little impressed. She sat on the large sofa in the luxurious lounge and tried to relax. Since she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, it would easy for her to fall asleep. Maybe she should take a nap while Will was in the cockpit with the pilot. Leaning back, letting her head rest comfortably on the cushioned leather, she closed her eyes and concentrated on erasing everything from her mind.

  Gwen realized blocking out the events of the past two days was impossible. Here she was flying from Puerto Nuevo to Jamaica on a private jet with a man she’d met only last night. A man she instinctively knew had seen more than his share of trouble. He had shown her his credentials. He was a licensed private investigator. The problem wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, at least on some level. No, the problem was that she found him attractive, and not just his rugged good looks, but the way he seemed comfortable taking charge, making decisions, helping both her and the young women who had been forced to identify the body of their murdered friend. Will was one of those guys people depended on because he got the job done.

  Gwen tried to shake off the feelings that Will stirred to life inside her. He was the opposite of her father in so many ways and definitely nothing like her ex-husband. She had chosen Jeremy Charles because she’d thought they had a great deal in common. He had been a botany major at Auburn, where they’d attended college together, and he’d been the most logical-thinking, down-to-earth young man she’d ever met. After being deserted by a father who kept his head in the clouds, she had wanted a husband who had both feet firmly planted on the ground.

  “Gwen?”

  She opened her eyes and stared up at Will, who was smiling down at her.

  “You weren’t asleep, were you?” he asked.

  “No, just relaxing a little,” she lied.

  “I was wondering if you’re hungry. We have a fully stocked galley.”

  “I’m not very hungry.”

  “Come on, you need to eat something. I’m going to make myself a big, thick sandwich and eat half a bag of chips and maybe some chocolate ice cream, too. What do you say?”

  Chocolate ice cream? Was he kidding? She could eat chocolate ice cream every day and never tire of it. It was one of her comfort foods. “I’ll take a sandwich, no chips and just a little ice cream.”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  When he turned and headed toward the galley, she called to him. “I’d be glad to help.”

  “You stay put, kick off your shoes and relax again. I can put together a couple of sandwiches.”

  Half an hour later, with their meal eaten, Gwen curled up on the sofa, her shoes on the floor, while Will sat across from her in one of the swivel lounge chairs.

  “What do we do when we arrive in Kingston?” Gwen asked. “I suppose we should check with all the marinas and—”

  “That’s being done,” he said.

  “It’s being done? How’s that possible?” Then realization dawned on her. “Oh, right. I forgot that you work for some high-powered investigation agency. I suppose they’re running a check right now.”

  “They’re going through the usual channels to get what information they can. But Dundee’s has contacts in various places around the world, so when we need certain information, we use locals whenever possible.”
<
br />   “Are you telling me that Dundee’s has a contact in Kingston?”

  “Yes, we do. And at this very moment, he’s doing some of the leg work, saving us time when we land.” Will checked his wristwatch. “In about twenty minutes.”

  “That soon?” Gwen sat up straight, lifted her foot and extended it enough to grab one shoe with her toe.

  “It’s a short flight, less than two hours.”

  “So, what do we do when we land, meet the Dundee contact?”

  “That’s the second thing we’ll do. The first thing we’ll do is talk to a member of the JCM, a Lieutenant Seabert.”

  “The JCM?” Gwen asked.

  “Jamaica Constabulary Force.”

  “Oh. So, why are we going to the police?”

  “Dundee’s has notified the Kingston authorities that we’re investigating a missing person’s case and gave them the names of the people who might be involved.”

  “Including my father’s name.” Had her father’s misadventures led to this—to him somehow being involved with one girl’s murder and another’s disappearance? Please, God, don’t let Daddy have had anything to do with what happened to Tori Boyd.

  “Yes, including your father’s name.”

  “You don’t know for sure that Cheryl Kress is with Jordan Elders and my father.”

  “You’re right, I don’t know it for a fact. But both Cheryl and Tori were last seen with Jordan. And Jordan left Puerto Nuevo with your father, a woman named Molly Esteban, who we know has a criminal record, and a guy named Mick McGuire, who’s captaining the cruiser your father rented.”

  “I’m surprised Dundee’s hasn’t come up with information about this Captain McGuire.” She noted the odd expression on Will’s face. “Oh, they have, haven’t they?”

  “McGuire’s an alias. One of many this guy has used, if he’s the same Mick McGuire. He’s been in the Caribbean area for years, in and out of trouble. He’s been suspected of smuggling, gunrunning and drug trafficking. He’s served time in prison, but mostly for petty stuff, just like Molly.”