Freefall (23 page)
Had Robert and Gentry trespassed onto
kapu
territory? Or taken a four-wheel track that led to crops people didn’t advertise, like
pakalolo
? If Gentry and her uncle had happened onto one such operation, an accident could have been arranged to silence them.
Probably he was way off base, and someone had simply fulfilled Robert’s hopes for a different sort of adventure. He had to stop assuming criminal elements in every situation that went bad. He heard Myra’s voice in his ear,
“ You’re so suspicious.”
Except where it had mattered most.
He rubbed a hand through his hair. The rental company would pay him if he recovered the Jeep before Robert Fox regained consciousness. But he didn’t care. He had other work to do, cases that wouldn’t solve themselves. One Ponzi scheme could escalate exponentially while he spun his wheels on Kauai. And the insurance fraud he was working on for Barry needed attention. A rash of supposed victims, all being seen by the same clinic, filing huge damage claims for pain and suffering. He collected evidence by surveilling the bogus victims, but it was the doctors perpetrating the scam whom they’d nail.
He had to get home. There was nothing he could do for Robert Fox or his niece that others couldn’t do better. He went back to the hospital. He would tell Gentry he’d come up blank and had to go.
But outside the ICU, her publicist was playing pugilist again. He walked into the psychological fray, took Gentry by the arm, and hustled her out.
He regretted it the minute the door closed behind them. He was supposed to be leaving. Gentry could take care of herself. Then why didn’t she? “I’m not sure that woman’s good for you.”
“She’s doing her job.” But Gentry sounded battered.
He didn’t care for people who turned on the charm in public and dispensed with it in private. At least he was equally rude in both. He let her into the truck and drove north by way of the east shore.
“Where are we going?”
“I want to take you a few places and see if anything triggers your memory the way the waterfall did.” Where had that come from? He should be heading to the airport, getting back to work, going home.
“What do you want me to remember?”
“How about everything?”
She rubbed her temple. “I’m not sure it matters. Insurance will pay for the Jeep.” She flicked him a glance. “Guess you hate to hear that.”
“There are legitimate claims. What I do helps companies take care of those who need it, by stopping the ones who don’t. How’s your uncle?”
“They’re keeping him comatose while they fight the infection.” She sounded weary and frightened and, for the first time, honest. “He looks awful. Worse than when we found him.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
This vulnerable Gentry was not making his departure easy. Where was her optimism?
“Every time I have to leave his side, I think he’ll be better when I go back. But then it’s the same thing all over again.”
In her place, he’d think next time he returned the man might be dead. He followed the highway all the way to Kapa‘a and pulled into a surfers’ hangout. At Gentry’s odd expression, his anticipation rose. “You remember this place?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m not exactly … incognito.”
He looked around the crumbly parking lot. “I don’t see any press.”
“The ones you see aren’t the problem. And it’s not just press. I might have kept a low profile before this new wave of publicity. But now …”
He tapped his lips with his thumb. “Locals play it cool. I doubt you’ll be mobbed.”
“I know, but …”
“Just say it.”
She turned her vibrant teal gaze on him. “You can’t touch me.” His heart thumped his chest.
“They’ll be looking for fresh shots, and this is the sort of place that invites speculation. Darla didn’t want me near you. That’s what she was hollering about.”
He stroked his beard. “I might be able to restrain myself.”
Gentry shoved his arm. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that protective bodyguard thing. A camera doesn’t read your intent.” She raised her face. “That look is all it would take.”
“They could catch that look on every guy on the island.”
“I didn’t mean yours.” Her lashes dipped and rose.
Ah. What would Myra say to that? He stared out the front windshield.
“You look like you just sucked a lemon.”
He shot her a glance. “Got one sour face?”
“Yeah, brah.” She sounded just like TJ when she said it, only an octave higher.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were an actor.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a friend.”
He forked his fingers into his hair. “I guess I can handle that.” But Myra’s voice still mocked. Jaw clenched, he opened his door. Gentry let herself out. He touched the lock on his remote, and kept distance between them. No bodyguard contact.
As soon as Gentry’s feet hit the pavement, a handful of teen girls hurried across the lot, squealing for her autograph. No harm in that. Gentry obliged. He watched to see if it was a trap to hold her up so the vultures could move in, but it seemed the girls were on their own.
The heavyset one in long, dark braids thanked her. “You’re the greatest. I loved you in
Steel
. I’d have done the same thing if it was my kid. Your husband was mean not to do it for you.”
“You were so brave. You, like, made me cry.” The second girl looked as though she might do it again, just standing next to Gentry. What was it about her?
A car pulled into the lot, and he scanned it automatically; a woman he knew from high school and the hotel manager from Oahu that she’d married. Margot waved, and he thought for a minute she’d join them, but the husband marshaled her inside. It violated
aloha
to swarm famous visitors. Too much money would be lost if they stopped coming.
Gentry finished with the girls, who walked off calling thank-yous over their shoulders.
Another car pulled in and parked. His chest tightened as Bette Walden got out.
Gentry shrank into Cameron’s side before she realized what she’d done. His hand went to the small of her back, responding to her. But she gathered herself and stepped away as Bette approached with the sharp look of a hawk fixed on her prey.
Only it was Cameron in her sights. “What a surprise I haven’t heard from you.”
“Were you expecting to?”
She shrugged. “Some information suggested I might.”
“You checked me out?”
“One investigator to another.”
Gentry clenched her jaw, remembering Bette throwing bones to the press. Why? What did this woman know, or think she knew?
Bette held an envelope out. “These were e-mailed to me a couple hours ago. I made the prints from the file and copied the note that accompanied it.”
Cameron took the envelope but didn’t open it.
Bette held out another business card. “In case you lost the last one.”
Gentry wanted to slap the card out of her hand. Cameron slipped it into his pocket. Bette’s expression shifted to smug as she turned and walked back to her car.
Gentry’s legs were wooden. Instead of continuing into the bar, Cameron let her back into the truck. With a concerned mien, he handed over the envelope. Chest tight, she opened the unsealed flap and gasped. She didn’t have to see any more of the photo to know how wrong it was.
Blood pulsed in her throat, her ears. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply. “This … is not me. Someone put my face …” And Troy in the background looking on.
God help me
.
“Read the note.”
He didn’t ask to see. That small courtesy meant so much. She slipped the paper out from behind the two photographs. A short note:
These are the pictures I didn’t show. Leave that guy or I will
.
Oh, Troy
. She had enjoyed his quick wit, his patience with the younger kids, his natural stage presence. How could an innocent crush—But then nothing about the improv kids was innocent.
She swallowed the ache. She didn’t want him hurt anymore, but she had to preempt this before the rags got it. They couldn’t print the photos without blurs, but blurs were no big deal to them. And if people thought she’d posed like that for the kid … She turned. “You have to go.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t be seen with you, or he’ll show these pictures.” She slapped the envelope against her knee.
Cameron stared hard. “And what about the next demand? Are you going to let someone threaten you into a cave?”
“People believe what they see. Truth is … meaningless.”
He leaned his forearm on the wheel. “Truth is never meaningless.”
“Well, sometimes it doesn’t stand a chance.”
How could he have turned on her like this? A young man with such promise and those big dreams. Tears stung. She fought, but couldn’t stop them. Cameron pulled her to his shoulder, wrapped his arm around her neck. She could almost hear the cameras clicking. Darla would be livid. Not for the first time, she hated it all.
“Gentry.” His beard against her forehead was softer than she’d expected for a man who wore it to intimidate. “You can’t give up. Think what it took to find your uncle. That’s who you are.”
She drew back. “Who I was. Before I knew.”
He raised her chin. “Don’t buy into that.” He held out his hand for the envelope. “Let me have it.”
She shook her head.
“There are ways to tell when a photo’s been doctored.”
“Not without seeing it.” She clenched her fist. “I was so careful in my contract; no nudity, nothing flagrant. Once those images are in people’s minds they don’t go away.” She groaned.
“Give me the pictures, Gentry.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, sent a sideways glance, then turned the envelope upside down and thrust it into his lap. “Do not look.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “What would I need with pictures when I’ve got the real Gentry Fox in my truck?”
She sniffed. “Red-nosed and bleary-eyed.” Her voice broke.
He tapped the envelope on his thigh. “I’ll deal with these on the mainland, okay?”
She stared out the windshield and nodded, then realized what he’d said and turned. “You’re leaving?”
“I have to. The Jeep’ll turn up, or your uncle can tell them where it is.” That was the most hopeful thing he’d said about Uncle Rob. “If you remember anything …” He pierced her with his gaze. “Call me.”
She nodded, but she wouldn’t. Things were complicated enough. “Can you take me to Hale Kahili? I can rent a car from there.”
“I’ll make sure TJ knows.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He drove her along the highway through broad, umbrella-shaped trees that parted now and then to reveal rolling green pastures streaked with sunset hues and fragments of rainbows. Sorrel horses grazed among pink-and-white flowering lily ponds. At Hale Kahili, Cameron walked her through the few press vans still hanging around, to the door of the cottage. He waited while she unlocked it and looked inside.
She turned back. “All clear.” If only that were true.
“Anything, whether it seems important or not.” He took out a business card and wrote his cell number on the back.
She palmed the card. “Thanks seems inadequate.” He stroked her with his gaze. “Try
mahalo
.”
She smiled. “
Mahalo,
Kai.”
He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“Aloha.”
Gentr y slept fitfully. A weight had
settled on her chest like sandbags pinning her down. She thrashed and kicked. When her eyes flew open she was alone in the Hale Kahili rental Uncle Rob had chosen. It was dark and silent, but the burden remained.
The photos were a nightmare waiting to happen, but that wasn’t it. Something worse, something wrenching drove her to her knees on the floor beside the bed. She poured out her heart for Uncle Rob. Didn’t the Lord desire to heal? He’d done so with the crowds that swarmed him on earth. It had to be what he wanted.
Oh, God, I beg you
.
Leaving the hospital with Cameron last evening, she’d let her confidence waver. He made it difficult to be less than totally honest, but now she regretted her lapse. Did doubt have power to interfere? In the dark, alone, she felt its power.
No. Even if her faith wasn’t staunch enough, Uncle Rob was a rock. His love for the Lord could be a force field around him. But then … he’d had troubles of his own. They both had. Aunt Allegra, Troy, now this. How exactly had giving their hearts to Christ almost three years ago made their lives better?
Anger licked. Was optimism foolish? Cameron’s outlook, to believe in God but not expect him “to fix everything,” seemed like wisdom. She felt naïve. Had she made God Santa Claus? If she asked nicely and promised to be good, she’d get everything she wanted.
But hadn’t he already given her the ultimate? When she had gotten on her knees and surrendered her life with Uncle Rob, she’d anticipated a new kind of adventure, a spiritual journey to challenge and enlighten them. But hadn’t she agreed to live for Christ no matter what? Pain coursed through as she realized the Lord could be preparing her.
She couldn’t bear to lose Uncle Rob. She wouldn’t even think it. And if he lost his leg, the self-condemnation would smother her. She didn’t have the strength, the knowledge, the experience to handle it. She’d be swept away.
Please, please let it pass—
The Lord’s own prayer stopped her thought. Could she complete it?
Not my will but yours be done?
She had prayed for the Lord’s perfect will. Making a rash assumption that God must be in agreement, she’d prayed it. But what if his will wasn’t hers? She buried her face, unable to give God Uncle Rob, his leg … or her guilt.
The room seemed to close in like the cave where Uncle Rob had waited. She imagined him there, hoping, praying, day after day as infection took hold. She could hate herself for what she’d done, what she hadn’t.
Uncle Rob!
Dad was supportive and encouraging, but when his health deteriorated, his younger brother had stepped in like a magical godfather and whisked her off on adventures too rigorous for Dad’s heart. Out in nature, they’d talked about goals and dreams, boyfriends and plays and hopes for the future.
