Paper Moon (30 page)

Caroline collapsed beneath his weight against the sandy bed.

“And you're getting me all sandy.”

How could she alternately freeze and burn?

“I like my women with grit.” He doggy-licked her temple and then jerked away, trying to spit off the sand that stuck to his tongue. “Okay,“ he said, raking it with his teeth afterward to be certain it was all gone. “Maybe not quite this literally.”

Caroline laughed at the face he made. “What on earth has gotten into you? You're acting like kid.” And it was infectious. For all her grousing, Caroline had to admit, the boy in Blaine was as endearing as the man—and got away with so much more.

Still holding her in his icy grip, he backed away. Sheer mischief stirred the golden flecks in the dark russet of his eyes. “You, sweet Caroline.” He paused, glancing to where Karen and Annie pretended they weren't watching. “You're under my skin, in my blood . . . and if you don't come back into the water with us, I'm going to sing to you.”

Down the beach, a group of snorkelers straggled out of the water, their finned feet smacking the wet sand.

“You wouldn't.” While she wasn't sure she was up to being center stage again, her heart danced in her chest.

“I would.”

Climbing to his knees, he placed a hand over his heart and cleared his throat with a deep cough. “Oh, whoa, whoa . . .” he crooned in a not unpleasant baritone, “Sweet Car—”

Caroline sealed her name on his lips with her hand.

“Okay, okay,” she giggled. “You win.” She replaced her hand with a quick kiss. “Now that you've gotten me all sandy, I have to wash off anyway.”

Blaine helped her to her feet.

“Now help me into this mess,” she grumbled, pointing to her discarded snorkel, mask, and fins.

After rinsing her equipment off, Blaine knelt and lifted her foot to help her on with a fin as big as a turkey platter.

“This is a pitiful substitute for a glass slipper.”

She was caught up in a wonderful but warped fairy tale.
Okay,
she thought, heaving a sigh of surrender,
so what if it is warped?
She stood on one foot like a love-dazed flamingo. It was worth every bizarre moment.

CHAPTER
23

Banditos in Acapulco was in a newer building than the one in Mexico City. While decorated with the same bandit motif, there was a long sleek runway in this one that shot out into the dance floor, practically dividing it in half. There the more flamboyant of the crowd could display their style—or lack of it. At the moment, it was filled with the early set, those too young to purchase alcoholic beverages.

Every frayed nerve in John Chandler's body wished it were later.

His stomach burned and his head already ached, despite two aspirin and an antacid. A salt-rimmed shot of tequila could hardly make them worse, he reasoned, walking over to the latticed and fake-vine entrance from the dance room to the foyer. And it might brace the brittle edge upon which he teetered.

Karen Madison and her group were due at the early show. He twirled the live rose he'd purchased for her. That last night at La Quebrada, she seemed to buy his excuse that he wanted to write something more in the card.

“Sure, no problem.” Dark eyes bright, she'd shrugged off the subject, unaware that it would come down on her—and him—like a giant hammer if anything went wrong.

John rubbed sweaty palms on his khaki designer slacks. What was that saying about crossing bridges when one got to them? Of course, whoever came up with that didn't have a thug like Argon stalking him to make certain he crossed. And Rocha's organization was no closer to finding out who the undercover fed was.

Hector
. John breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the Edenton tour guide enter the foyer of the club at the head of the group. Karen and her “family” followed. At least Annie, Miz C, and Mr. M felt like a family to him. They were closer than his had ever been. He wished his mom had found someone like Blaine Madison.

Madison was a fair-minded man, successful and honest. Sure, he didn't really like John, but only because he wanted to protect his daughter. John could understand that. Blaine was who John wanted to be, but John had blown it by wanting too much too fast. If he could do it over, he'd wash dishes at Sanborn's or do whatever it took to work his way through school, rather than steal it. Because boiled down, that's what his involvement with Rocha amounted to.

“Hey there!” Looking like a dark-haired teen Barbie, Karen Madison waved with one hand while the bouncer stamped her other with the Banditos mask.

Too late for second chances, both for him and, because of him, for her. He'd have killed anyone who'd set his little sister up like this.

John met Karen halfway and gave her a hug.

“This is for you.” John handed her the red rose.

One would have thought it was a dozen the way she squealed.

“Hey, take it easy. It's nothing. A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl.” And that's all she was, a girl. A kid. If only there'd been someone older that night in Mexico City— Karen stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “It's the thought that counts.”

Beyond them, Blaine Madison watched him like a hawk. John waved at him and Miz C.

“Aren't they cute? You'll never guess,” Karen said.

“Guess what?”

“Dad asked Miz C to marry him, and she said yes!”

John winced with Karen's enthused hug, forcing his grimace to a smile. “That's fantastic.”

Sheesh, he had to get over this funk. First guilt, now envy. Given his druthers, he'd get the card and leave, but the time and place had to be more discreet than opening hour in the well lit foyer.

“That's awesome, girl.” He ushered her over to the table where the family was being seated.

“Hi, John,” Annie said with a sunshine smile.

Did she know about the card? He'd asked Karen to keep it between them, but girls that age tended to be chatty. “I understand congratulations are in order,” he said, extending his hand to Blaine Madison. “Mind if I kiss the bride-to-be?”

“You don't usually ask for permission to distribute your kisses, but be my guest.”

Uh-oh. Mad dad alert.

“Dad,” Karen protested.

“It's okay, Karen. Be glad you have a dad that cares.” John turned to Blaine. “For that I apologize, Mr. M. I'm not used to meeting girls accompanied by their parents . . . especially such cool ones.”

“She
is
young,” he replied, giving John a pointed look.

“I'm sixteen,” Karen declared, full of indignation.

John didn't want to start the evening with a standoff. “And as long as I'm around, you have nothing to worry about. I'll look out for her like I would my kid sister.” His words left a sour taste in his mouth. “You have my word.” A filthy, dirty one. “I wish you every happiness, Miz C.”

“Thank you, John,” Caroline replied, accepting his brush on the cheek with a blush. “I'm still pinching myself.”

“Well, better you than Mr. M.” John gave her a roguish wink.

“At least for now.”

Around them, the lights overhead went out for a second and then came back on.

“The light show is starting,” Karen said, dragging John down to her chair. “Sit down. I'll share with you.”

With a hapless glance at the parents, John reached behind and grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table.

He'd seen the show dozens of times in the company of his various marks. While pictures flashed and changed on the giant screen behind the DJ's pit, laser lights coordinated to the rock music flashing about the room like electronic fireworks. With the card on his mind, he hardly paid attention, but next to him, Karen and Annie marveled with adolescent gasps of delight. They made him feel old.

Glancing around the room, John spied Javier near the dance runway with some of the teens from the tour group he and his roommate had traveled with. His gaze met with Javier's, the latter casting a pointed glance toward the bar. Following his look, John felt his pulse stumble.

Argon. He was dressed in jeans and a black Banditos T-shirt instead of his customary tailored suit, but it was the same man who'd confronted him at the caverns. Argon lifted his glass.

Rocha really was nervous, to have a watchdog around. But everything was cool, John convinced himself. With a nod at the thug, he turned back to the show that now filled the air with a finale of laser blasts and fog. Soon he'd have the card, pass it on to Argon, and the heat would be off, at least off John. Taking in a brace of air, he nearly choked on the artificial fog. He soothed his throat with a sip of soda.

“
Y ahora.
And now . . .” the DJ shouted. Behind him, the Banditos mask and roses flashed on the screen overlooking the fog-screened dance floor, while laser lights swept in all directions at once. His Wizard of Oz–like shout came across the speakers bigger than life.
“Baila, baila, baila!
”

From four sides, the traditional opening number blasted the dance floor, still awash with the fake fog from the finale.

John tapped Karen on the shoulder. “You heard the man. Let's dance.” Turning to Blaine and Miz C, he shouted across the table.

“Care to join us?”

Karen's dad shook his head. “Maybe after our eardrums recover.”

Miz C gave him an elbow jab and laughed. “You go on, kids.

We'll just sit back and enjoy.”

Blaine whispered something in her ear, making her smile even wider.

Is that what love looks like?
John wondered. “Hey.” He turned away, tapping Annie on the shoulder and pointing across the room to Javier's table. “I think I see that guy you met at Banditos in the city.”

Annie's face brightened almost as much as her mom's. “It
is
Manny,” she exclaimed. “He said he'd be here tonight.”

Good,
he thought, ushering Karen out to the dance floor.

Enough mushy family sentiment. Annie was out of the way. The parents were accounted for. All he needed was a slow dance.

Four numbers later, winded, Karen fell into his arms. “At last,” she mumbled against the damp silk of his shirt. “Umm, you smell good.”

“So do you.”
So just ask her.
“Did you bring the card?”

Her hesitation made his heart skip. “Not exactly.”

Now his lungs froze. “What do you mean, not exactly?”

She pulled away. “We looked everywhere for it—”

It was getting worse. “
We?
”

“Miz C, Annie, and me,” she said, as if he were a dullard. “We checked all the packages. It just wasn't there.”

“I can't believe it.” No, he didn't want to believe it. It was over.

Over for him. Over for her. Maybe over for— “So I got you another one, just like it,” Karen announced, as though that were the answer to the world's problems. “It's in my Banditos bag.”

He held her off by the arms. “Are you sure you looked everywhere?

Absolutely certain?” Remembering Argon's watchful eye, he pulled Karen back to him and gave her a kiss on the top of the head, as if she'd given him good news, but his mind was a black wash of panic.

“We took all our bags apart. It just wasn't there. But the one I got is just like it.” She paused. “I mean, it's a mother's birthday card. It's not like I looked at the other. It was sealed.”

And for a reason. John's brain volleyed balls of panic against his temples until he felt a bit nauseated. If the authorities didn't get him for this, the thugs would.

He schooled his features against the dread running cold in his veins. “I had money in that card.” Talk about understatement.

Karen's wide-eyed innocence gave way to dismay. “Omigosh, I'm
so
sorry
.
How much? I'll pay you back.”

John coaxed her head against him and whirled her around, away from the view from the bar. If Argon saw her upset, he'd become suspicious. John had to play it as if all were going according to plan. “Forget it. It wasn't enough to get upset over. I'm overreacting. I'll bet your card is just as special.”

He felt her relax in his arms with relief. “It says wonderful things, you know, like moms like to hear.”

He'd take the card and slip out the back before Argon or Javier realized what was going on.

John pressed the blood from his lips. Rocha would kill him, nephew's friend or not.

The music faded.

“Tell you what,” he said to Karen. “Would you give me the card, and I'll get it ready to mail in the bathroom where the light's better.” He glanced to where Javier was talking to a chick with dark hair down to her waist. He always was a sucker for long hair.

“Sure, no problem. Need a pen?”

He caught Javier's eye and gave him a discreet signal to follow him. “What?”

“I said, do you need a pen, silly.” Karen gave him a playful punch. “Where are you tonight?”