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The Island

Page 16

by Heather Graham


  “What are you drinking?” Roger asked them.

  “We’ll join you for coffee,” Hank said.

  “Excuse me, I’m off to the facilities,” Keith said, rising. “Coffee would be great,” he added, determined to escape before he could be followed.

  “There’s one by the front entry,” Roger assured him.

  Keith nodded, made his way through the tables out to the foyer, trying to get the layout of the club straight in his head. He looked back. Lee had risen with Roger Mason. The two seemed to be thick in conversation. Amanda had been left to flirt with Matt. Their conversation seemed to be intimate. Hank and Gerald were left to speak with one another. Keith watched the dynamics for a long moment, then hurried up the stairs. Curious that Gerald was here tonight. He’d been under the impression that the man lived farther north along the coast and wasn’t around that often.

  It didn’t take more than a few minutes to find her office. He let himself in and closed the door.

  THE DOOR FLEW OPEN a second time.

  Beth stood there, looking horrified. She swallowed hard and said worriedly, “Ben?”

  “It’s all right,” Ben grated out. “You missed me. Barely.”

  “Dad? Aunt Beth, what did you do?” Amber cried out indignantly.

  “It’s all right,” Ben said, straightening. He stared at his sister, stunned. Beth was pale, in shock. Mortified.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “You scared me,” she said. “Oh, Ben,” she apologized again. “I’m so sorry.” Then she straightened her shoulders. “What the hell were you doing out there? What did you throw against my door?”

  He let his shoulders fall as he shook his head. He noticed the large dining-room chair, now moved over to the side of the entry. “Beth, kitchen,” he said.

  “Hey,” Amber protested.

  “Get in and lock the door, Amber,” Beth said as Ben took her by the shoulder, prodding her toward the kitchen.

  He sighed as she stared at him. “Beth, I didn’t want to have to tell you—there was a dead cat in front of your door.”

  “A dead cat?”

  “The poor thing had obviously been hit, and it crawled up on your porch to die,” Ben told her.

  “Ben, someone threw something against my door,” she informed him.

  “It probably fell against it,” he said. “Dammit, Beth. You might have blinded me,” he told her.

  She exhaled. “Yeah, sorry. The sound just scared me.”

  He set his hands on her shoulders. “Let go, Beth. Let go of this whole thing with the Monocos, okay? You’ll turn both of us into idiots jumping at our own shadows.”

  She nodded, touched his face. “I didn’t get you?”

  He shook his head. “Man, I’m tired. Good night, okay?”

  She laughed suddenly. “What are you doing here?”

  “Amber said that she had to give you something back. Do me a favor—don’t tell her about the dead cat.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In my trunk.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t say anything.”

  They walked back to the living room. Amber was standing there, arms hugged around her chest. “Leave whatever you brought for your aunt and let’s go, huh?” Ben said.

  Beth stared at Amber, frowning. Amber stared back at Beth.

  She wanted to say something to her aunt, Ben realized. Something she wouldn’t say in front of him.

  It was just going to have to wait until tomorrow.

  He swore softly. “Amber, just call Beth in the morning, huh? Let’s go.”

  He walked out the front door. He heard Beth say softly, “Amber, it’s all right. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  His daughter followed him. He heard his sister lock her door behind them as Amber headed for the car.

  A moment later, exhausted, he drove away.

  WHEN KEITH RETURNED TO the table, Amanda was just rising. “I was about to show Lee and Matt around the pool area. Join us?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. He took a sip of the coffee that had arrived in his absence and arched a brow to Roger. “Coming?”

  “I’ll let her show you the way,” he said.

  “We’ve seen it,” Hank added dryly.

  Keith nodded and followed the others out. Amanda caught hold of his arm. “I really want you to meet Maria Lopez. She’s outside.”

  The woman was in conversation with a wiry-looking, older Hispanic man. She was animated and spoke quickly in Spanish, her tone hushed.

  Realizing that someone was approaching, they both fell silent. The man rose.

  “Manny, how delightful,” Amanda purred. As she stepped forward, he took her arms and kissed her cheek.

  The woman, very elegant in a dignified, old-world way, waited.

  Amanda stepped back. “I’d like you to meet Maria Lopez, a very famous member of our little society, and Manny Ortega, a musician and a talented man! Maria, Manny, let me introduce Keith Henson, Matt Albright and Lee Gomez.”

  Keith thought he saw a flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes. But the older man said nothing, merely exchanging handshakes with them all.

  “I’m trying to convince them to come to the Summer Sizzler,” Amanda said.

  “Yes, you must come,” Maria murmured politely.

  “Will you be in the area that long?” Manny asked.

  “We can arrange to be,” Lee said in reply.

  “If you’re dancing, we’ll certainly arrange it,” Keith assured her.

  She assessed him carefully, her beautifully defined features giving away nothing of either appreciation or dismissal. “It will most certainly be my pleasure,” she said.

  “Well, I’m showing my friends around,” Amanda said. “Will you excuse us?”

  “Certainly,” Manny said.

  As they left, Keith noticed that Manny and Maria didn’t resume their conversation.

  He was certain it was because they both suspected that Lee’s Spanish was excellent.

  He followed the group around for another few minutes, then glanced at his watch and excused himself.

  As he had expected, his car was waiting.

  “I’VE SHOWN YOU MINE,” Amanda said huskily. “Aren’t you going to show me yours?”

  Matt stared at her blankly. She’d been gone for a while. Said she’d had to feed a dog or something like that. Her cousins had disappeared, too, Gerald taking Lee for a trip around a few of the South Beach bars, Hank claiming to have a date. He’d been left talking to the salsa queen, Maria, and the older fellow, Manny, who had insisted he have a real Cuban cigar.

  But then Amanda had returned, anxious to show him Hank’s yacht.

  The words she had just murmured were a come-on if he’d ever heard one. He was somewhat shocked. It wasn’t that he didn’t have self-confidence. It was just that in the company of Lee and Keith, he usually came out on the short end. Some men—or women, for that matter—just had an air that attracted the opposite sex. It was sad to admit, but in the company of the other two, he came in last. Like tonight. God knew what Keith was up to. Keith had the leeway to do whatever the hell he wanted; he was the leadman on the job. Lee had taken on the role of getting to Gerald Mason.

  Frankly, he’d been feeling like the odd man out.

  But now…

  Here she was, cute as a button. No, not just cute. Sexy, provocative, petite and yet voluptuous. Her fingers rested on his chest. Stupidly he said, “Show you mine?”

  “We’ve taken a look at Hank’s yacht. I’d love another look at yours.”

  “She’s actually Lee’s,” he reminded her.

  “But I’m sure you have all the rights of ownership,” she teased. “You don’t mean to tell me that you can’t ask me aboard? Your friends are gone for the night, right?”

  How did she know that? It seemed important to know what this woman was all about. And with both of the others gone, it was his job to watch the yacht. “You want to go to my place?” he queried.
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  She pressed against him. “I do.”

  He wasn’t a fool, he reminded himself. He could hold his own when he needed to. But…sometimes work and pleasure could collide.

  She must have known that he was hesitating, because she grew even bolder. She ran her hand straight down his chest to his genitals. “I like risk and excitement,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to breathe the words straight into his ear.

  “They, uh, they could return,” he stuttered, testing her. “I can get a room.”

  “But I like boats,” she insisted, pouting.

  She didn’t want him. She just wanted to get on the yacht. She thought she’d found a patsy. Well, two could play the game.

  “Sure, the tender is right over there,” he told her.

  BETH LEANED AGAINST THE DOOR, shaking. She had nearly hurt her brother. Badly.

  She let out a deep sigh, knowing she had to get a grip.

  There was a firm knock on the door. She jumped, then caught herself.

  Ben. What had he forgotten?

  She threw the door open.

  There was a man at the door. He seemed huge, looming in the darkness beyond the pool of light where she stood.

  It wasn’t Ben.

  And she no longer had her pepper spray.

  A scream rose in her throat as he stepped forward.

  She screamed and tried to push the door shut. It met an immovable obstacle and stalled. Then she heard her name.

  “Beth. Dammit, Beth. You told me to come!”

  She went dead still, only then recognizing the towering form in the doorway.

  She just hadn’t been expecting him.

  She stepped back in shock. She’d spent the first part of the week praying he would call.

  The second half of the week, she’d simply been mad.

  “May I?” he asked, still standing on the porch.

  He was everything she had remembered and more. Dark eyes, a startling contrast to the sun-bleached lightness of his hair. Bronzed. In form-hugging jeans and a tailored shirt, open at the throat.

  For a minute she couldn’t find speech.

  Then she was angry with herself, because she was being worse than Amber and her friends, gawking, letting herself be thrown off-kilter by any man.

  “What do you mean, I told you to come?” she inquired curtly.

  He cocked his head slightly, a smile curving his lips.

  “May I come in? The neighbors will be out soon, if they haven’t called the police already,” he teased.

  She stepped outside, looking around.

  She couldn’t help but look over to the tree, then back at Keith.

  Had he been stalking her? Hiding behind the tree while her brother was there?

  Why on earth would he do such a thing?

  Maybe he wanted her alone. All alone.

  She lowered her head for a moment. To be frank, she wanted to be alone with him, too.

  “Beth, are you all right?”

  She stepped back and repeated, “I told you to come?”

  He let out a sigh. “Today.”

  “I asked you to come today?”

  “In your e-mail. Remember?”

  Her brows arched; her mouth formed an O.

  “I’m going to throttle her!” she said.

  “Who?” he demanded, confused.

  “Come in,” she murmured.

  He stepped into the house, frowning and looking around curiously. Then he turned to her, a half smile on his lips. “Great place. Amber, I take it?”

  “What?”

  “The one you’re going to kill. Somehow she got on your computer and flirted with me, pretending to be you.”

  “I think so. The little rat tried to scare me, too.”

  “I see.” He was silent a moment, surveying her place once more. Then he turned to her again. “Maybe you should be a little scared.”

  “Why?”

  He hesitated again. Then he shrugged. “It’s a scary world.”

  “Do you ever just answer a question?”

  “When I can.”

  “You’re a liar. You can answer right now. I should be scared…why?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I did see a skull on the island?”

  “I don’t know what you saw on the island, Beth. But everyone there knew you saw something. And it’s obvious that you’re scared. Though if you are scared of something, it’s not really all that bright to go ahead and just answer the door. Actually, you should never just open a door. That’s why most of them have peepholes, you know.”

  “Yes, thank you for the lecture. I answered the door like that because I thought you were my brother.”

  “You scream when your brother arrives?”

  She was glad when the phone began to ring then. She excused herself and went to pick up the kitchen extension.

  It was Ashley.

  “Hey,” Beth murmured, watching Keith Henson in her living room as she spoke.

  “I wanted you to know, there’s an APB out for those people you met on the island.”

  She nearly choked. “Which ones?”

  “That couple. Brad and Sandy.”

  She almost gasped in relief. “Um…why?”

  “They’re wanted for questioning. There’s no proof of anything against them, and I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I happen to know that the nameplate from the Retired! was discovered in the water just off Calliope Key. I thought you should know. I mean, I doubt they’ll show up around here, and hopefully they have no idea they’re under suspicion, but…well, you might have found the remains of one of the Monocos. The powers that be don’t want that news getting out yet, because they don’t want to scare them off if there’s a chance of bringing them in for questioning.”

  Keith was still standing in the living room. She had the feeling that he could describe the place in detail if he was asked to do so later.

  “Um…” She turned away, not wanting Keith to hear her. “Why do they suspect those two?”

  “There’s a reason,” Ashley assured her.

  “And that would be?”

  Ashley didn’t give her a direct reply. Instead, she asked, “Want to meet me at Nick’s tomorrow? Breakfast, lunch, brunch—whatever works for you. Maybe you can give me a hand.”

  Her friend wasn’t going to say any more over the phone, she realized. She was just glad for the information she had gotten.

  If anyone was guilty, it was Brad and Sandy. Not Keith Henson or his friends. Not the man with whom she’d already slept, who was standing in her living room, surveying it with what appeared to be a practiced eye.

  “Beth?”

  “I’m here.”

  “You’ll meet me?”

  “Sure. I have to run into the office for a little while in the morning, and then I’ll be out.”

  “See you then. Be careful, okay?”

  Beth paused for a moment. “I will.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  She hung up and found Keith smiling at her. “It really is a nice place.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” She was convinced there was certainly nothing evil about the man, so why did she feel uncomfortable?

  She still didn’t know why Sandy and Brad were the ones attracting suspicion when others had been on the island, as well, and the Monocos had been missing for roughly a year.

  “Are you in Miami for long?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. We kind of go with the flow,” he told her.

  “Must be nice.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “You’re acting very strangely.”

  “According to you, I’m always acting strangely.”

  “Sorry. And I’m sorry for just showing up, too. I honestly thought I was invited. Since that evidently wasn’t the case—”

  “It wasn’t, but you—you don’t have to go,” she murmured quickly.

  “You don’t seem pleased that I’m here.”

  Sh
e smiled suddenly. “Actually, I am,” she told him very softly. Then, because it seemed to her that the tone of her voice was way too intimate, she said quickly, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I…well, to use one of Amber’s words, I suck as a hostess. Can I get you a drink? I think I have wine and beer. Or coffee? Tea? Water?”

  He grinned, walking toward her.

  She was startled that she was still standing. She felt as if her bones had turned to liquid, destroying all hope of remaining upright.

  Then he was there in front of her. He touched her chin, lifting it just slightly. She met his eyes and felt as if they could make her forget the world, melt into his being.

  She shouldn’t give so much to someone she had known so fleetingly, she knew. It was one thing to think she had every right to moments of sex, sensuality and lunacy. But this…

  This was frightening.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured huskily, his thumb traveling a path along her cheekbones. “When I should have been thinking about so much else.”

  She couldn’t think of a thing to say to that.

  “Should I leave?” he asked.

  “Are we going to go through this again?” she asked very softly.

  “I only—”

  “If I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay. Yes, I know your speech. Don’t get involved with me. Well, we’re hardly involved.”

  “You’re mistaken.”

  “We have different definitions of involved, then.”

  “So this means nothing to you?” he queried.

  “I didn’t say that,” she told him. “But involved…that would mean I’d know where you were, not because you owed me explanations, but just because you’d want me to know. Wanting to see me again would be a priority for you, and seeing you would be a priority for me.”

  “Beth, right now I can’t—”

  “I didn’t ask you to. I’m a grown-up. I’ve made my choice. I don’t want you to go. It’s already late. You’ll leave too soon as it is, won’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then…”

  His movement always seemed unhurried, easy, as if he were a cat that had long studied its prey and seldom failed to reach its objective. It was in his eyes, as well, in his voice, that thing about him, always so casual, and yet…

 

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