Gone Tropical (20 page)

“How’d he get through immigration, here? They’ve made it tougher over here since 9/11,” Sarge said. “Also, FBI and AFP, hell, even Interpol had been put on notice.”

“He told me his friend Col insisted on getting him a change of identity and a new passport for his protection,” Meg said. “He changed his name two or three times. Finally he said he’d legally changed his name. We separated for about two months. I went back to Paris and he went to London. Then he said it was safe and we could come back to Australia and start our lives together over here.”

“Who is Col?” Jake asked, and leaned around Amy to look at Meg.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never met him,” Meg said. “His name is Col Braxton and he owns Braxton Island. He and Stuart are business partners. Stu invested a lot of money in the island.”

“That British bastard?” Mr. Thompson thumped the table, getting all blustery.

Amy jumped.

“Calm down, darl,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Let’s get the whole story here.”

Amy put a hand on top of Meg’s. They were both idiots. Both had been taken in by a charming, handsome man, a sociopath, a liar, a cheater. A man without a conscience, oh yes, she remembered him well. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. She’d always known how well he justified every action. But she’d dismissed the warning signs.

“Braxton Island, I know it. It’s off the coast of Cooktown. A small, ecologically sound barrier island,” Sarge said and nodded his head. He took a swig of coffee, obviously deep in thought. “What’s the connection between you two, Mr. Thompson?”

Mr. Thompson leaned forward placing both elbows on the table. “Bastard has been trying to buy me out for years.” He turned to Meg. “When did you meet Firth, how long ago?”

Meg sniffled and wiped her nose on a napkin. She rubbed her lips together. “Umm, it would have been three years ago, I think. I can’t really think properly right now. I’m so sorry, Dad. I had no idea…”

“It’s okay,” Mr. Thompson said gruffly. “You were taken in by a friggin’ con man. I was too. The man’s slick.”

“You’ve met him?” Sarge asked sitting bolt upright. “You’ve met Firth?”

“Nah, but he’s rung here. Charming bloke. I thought Meg had herself a real winner. But she’d started having doubts since she got back here this week.”

“Like what kind of doubts?” Jake asked, turning toward Meg.

“I’m not sure. Some things seemed strange. You know, why we were always on the run. I’d started having second thoughts when I was alone in Paris. Then Stu’s secretive phone calls increased and he only sent emails in some kind of coded message, and then there were bodyguards in Sydney, and when we got to Cairns he changed his mind about coming to meet Mum and Dad. We were met by a limo driver. Even the chauffeur had a gun. I saw it in his belt.”

“And then you met the other nice young man,” Mrs. Thompson said and smiled. “I really liked him. He was a real honest bloke, a fair dinkum Aussie.”

Meg’s face flushed pink. “Mum!” she said and quickly ducked her head.

“It’s okay,” Amy said with a laugh. “Brian is equally smitten.”

Meg blushed to the roots of her hair.

“Okay, listen up,” Jake said. “Did Firth ever hurt you, or was he verbally abusive?”

“Nah, he’s very quiet, and polite,” Meg said. “He’d get angry sometimes, but not often.”

“Mmmm. I can vouch for that,” Amy said. “He wouldn’t want to risk breaking a bone by swinging a punch. He’s kind of prissy and into looking good. Hell, he doesn’t even like a hair on his head out of place.”

“He’s gone gray now,” Meg said, and gave Amy a wan smile. “He looks a lot older than thirty-five.”

“Try forty-two,” Amy said dryly. “I hear he’s sporting a beard, too.”

Meg nodded. “Forty-two?”

“Diana, my friend who is arriving tomorrow, I mean this morning, dated him back in high school,” Amy said. “Don’t worry Meg. He’d lopped a couple of years off his age when we met, too.” She was about to add she’d promised to pick Diana up at Cairns Airport. She hesitated when she saw Jake’s body go as rigid as when he’d seen the snake, but this time his eyes sparked with fury not fear. Maybe now wasn’t the time.

“You withheld valuable information?” Jake asked. “It would have helped to know those details. You gave me an old photo on purpose, didn’t you?”

Amy glared at him. She’d forgotten all about the photo.

Sarge raised a hand. “This isn’t helping anything, Jake. We need to focus on the story, on the details.”

Jake cleared his throat. “I think there’s something bigger than wanting to purchase land and embezzling funds going on here. I’ve felt it for a while now.”

“Me too,” Sarge said. “I think we’ve disturbed a bloody hornet’s nest.”

“Yep,” Jake said. “A skip isn’t going to be surrounded by a network of bodyguards.”

“You’re right. The norm would be a guy keeping to himself; someone constantly on the move,” Sarge said. “I wondered about how he got into the country. He has to have some high powered connections, either that or big money.”

“Drug money?” Mr. Thompson asked with a quick raise of his thick sandy eyebrows.

Sarge and Jake both nodded. “Could well be,” Sarge said.

“Hmmm,” Mr. Thompson murmured. He rubbed his jaw. “The government’s been cleaning up for a few years now. Increased patrols in the northern waters, breaking up little bands of traffickers up and down the shore. Big link to Indonesia is what I’ve heard, and a really big fish is the head honcho. Indonesian government is instituting severe penalties, trying to rid their country of the problem, but it persists. This bloke outside here, he look Indonesian to you?”

Sarge and Jake nodded again. “Meg,” Jake said. “Did Firth ask you to take breakfast down to the lagoon, to our man out there?”

“What…when?”

Jake explained the evidence they’d found.

“No, I had no idea there was anyone down there. I often take my brekkie to the lagoon,” Meg said. “I guess I got sidetracked and forgot the paper bag. I’m usually good about that sort of thing.” She shook her head. “I’ve never seen the bloke before.”

“True,” Mr. Thompson said. “Been takin’ breakfast down to the lagoon since she was about ten years—”

“
I
have,” Amy said.

“You have what?” Jake asked.

Amy sat up and sighed. “I’ve seen that man before.”

“Where?”

“He took a photo of me in Sydney, on his cell phone. He followed me to Cairns and then he was posted outside my motel room in his black jeep. The one down there in the parking lot next to Sarge’s truck—”

“And you never thought to tell us?” Jake’s face darkened.

“Hold on,” Sarge said. “Let her continue.”

Amy blinked at the hot sting of tears behind her eyelids and swallowed hard. Jake was so pissed, she couldn’t look at him. “He followed me to the pub where I met Brian, and then he tried to follow me to my motel. I gave him the slip. I think there were two guys. I didn’t see the other one clearly, but it could have been Firth. I called Brian and he came to my rescue. I stayed at his place and then he drove me up here. I never saw the man again until tonight, when he came into the restaurant.”

Jake thumped the table and sprang out of his seat. “Damn it.” He turned and glared at her. “How goddam irresponsible can you be?”

“Calm down, Jake,” Sarge said and tried to reach out for his arm. Jake shook it off, and stood with arms folded across his chest gripping his biceps, glaring at her.

“I didn’t think you needed to know,” Amy said, her posture stiffening.

He sounded just like Daddy. They were two of a kind. He had no right to say she was irresponsible. It was her case, and he was treating her like she was unintelligent. Her heart pounded with suppressed anger. She wouldn’t retaliate, wouldn’t say a word. They were working alone, they always would. And he was out of line.

“Dammit, Amy, you could have been hurt, could have been killed tonight,” he said softly.

Amy turned away from him. He had no right to yell at her, but she’d rather that than hear the emotion cracking in his voice.

“It would have been helpful information, Amy,” Sarge said quietly.

“I know.”

“Knowing about the guy trailing you would have changed our focus,” Sarge said. “We’d have shared some of our knowledge with you.”

Amy stood and gripped the back of the chair. “Yeah, and it would be on a need to know basis. I get it, I’m not stupid. Knowing you were a federal agent would have helped me, too.” She tried to calm the tremor in her voice. “And, knowing there was something other than embezzlement going on here might have been nice. Oh, and let’s not forget you two guys were being tailed.” She turned, narrowed her eyes and glared at Jake. “We were working separately…we
are
working separately,” she said, and walked to the door. “I’m going to bed.”

All he cares about is this damn case
. Other than the quick hug he’d given her in the forest he hadn’t even asked how she felt. Tears threatened, and she blinked them away.

Jake grabbed her arm. “Don’t be stupid, Amy. We’re in this together. All of us, and with Meg’s help maybe we can get to Firth and get him into custody.”

“And maybe bust a drug ring,” Sarge said, stretching his shoulders.

Amy shook off Jake’s arm.

“It’s not a contest. There are no winners or losers here,” Jake said.

Could she work with someone who didn’t trust her? It would be going right back to being the only female in a house full of macho men. She’d be given dumb jobs like research and making coffee and phone calls. She’d be a secretary. “Maybe not in your book,” she said icily. “I’m determined to win.”

Jake scowled and turned back to the people around the table. “When did you last speak with Firth?” he asked Meg.

“Stu only talked with me once, two days ago. He spoke with Dad a couple of times. He’s calling me this morning, around ten. He wants to come here.”

Amy leaned against the countertop.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “When?”

“It sounded like right away. I tried to put him off,” Meg lowered her head for a moment. “At least until after your celebration on Saturday, I um…wanted some time with Brian.”

“Well, look…that was all a lie,” Amy said, stepping away from the countertop. “I’d never met Brian before, and Jake is definitely not my husband. They’re both complete strangers.”

“Ah, hang on—”

Amy ignored Jake’s comment. “I met both men only a few days ago. One in Sydney, the other in Cairns, and this celebration thing was a cover.”

Meg frowned. “I’d never have guessed,” she said, and tilted her head. “I saw you at the lagoon. You’re perfectly matched, and there’s a lot of spark. I remember thinking I wanted what you have. I don’t have that with Firth.”

That was the last thing Amy needed to hear. A spark between her and Jake? For some reason her traitorous body heated up.
Hah! Jake Turner is history.
Her heart pounded as she reached for the doorknob. “I’m tired. See you all in a few hours.”

“Goodnight, Amy,” Sarge said politely. “I’ll sleep up here on the couch and watch over our man. Helen and Kirstie, you go with Amy. Meg, you and your mother and father go and get some shut-eye. You’ve got guests and a full day of work ahead of you.”

“No, Sarge, you go back with the women. I’ll stay,” Jake said.

Amy walked out onto the verandah while the guys were discussing who would take the job. She stared at the man tied up, sleeping like a baby, and shuddered. She rubbed her back where the gun had been pressed. The bag of peas on his throat reminded her of the bruises he’d have. Jake said he’d probably crushed his larynx and wasn’t really proud of that. He said he only used his hands as weapons in the direst of circumstances. She thought of Jake’s hands caressing her skin and near to tears, blinked hard.

She glared at the other couch.
Let Turner sleep there.
And let the snake come up and slither over his chest. Let it scare the shit out of him, she didn’t care. She was done with him, and all men, and their stupid macho games and secrets. You just couldn’t trust them. Then a little niggling voice asked, “What about you? You kept secrets.” She shoved the thought aside and stomped across the clearing in the pouring rain. She’d grabbed one of the raincoats and held it like a tent above her head, the rain seeping through the thin fabric of her pajamas.

“Wait up, Amy,” Jake called out, his voice sounding thin in the wind and the rain.

She turned. Jake and Sarge were standing close and in conversation. Then Jake came down the steps beside Helen on her crutches, holding an umbrella above her head. Kirstie followed them, holding another umbrella. Sarge was staying on guard. Kirstie’s umbrella turned inside out and she yelled out something and covered her head with one hand. The umbrella took off flying through the air toward the opposite cabins. The whole sky was black, not a star could be seen.

Amy wiped the rain from her eyes and shivered. “Come on! Share my raincoat.”

Kirstie ran over the slick grass and huddled in underneath the coat, shrieking and chattering about the cold and the rain and the dark. Helen hobbled along beside them, Jake holding an umbrella over her.

“I’ve got the keys to our cabin,” Jake yelled. He dangled the keys on one finger. Amy reached for them and he dropped them into his pants’ pocket.
Smart-ass.

Chapter Seventeen

Jake knew Amy was angry. He’d withheld information. And he’d lost his temper and accused her of irresponsibility. He grimaced. That would have hit a sore spot with her background. From what he’d gathered her relationship with her father and brothers had been one of macho bullshit. She’d spent half her life rebelling and the other half trying to prove herself.

“You okay, Helen?” he asked, and folded the umbrella after helping her up onto the covered walkway to the cabin.

“Yes. You can go on ahead.”

“Nope. I’m staying right behind you. You slip, I’ll catch you.”

Amy and Kirstie waited at the corner. Kirstie was laughing and talking; Amy was stone-faced. He was still annoyed she’d put herself into danger. And she hadn’t trusted him to protect her. Okay, so how much of this was his fault? And what could he fix? His head hurt, and his body ached. He’d taken a trouncing tonight.