Risky Business (21 page)

He stopped her before she could scramble out of bed. It hurt, he realized, more than he could possibly have anticipated. “Why?”

“Jonas, we're two different people with two totally separate lives.”

“We stopped having separate lives weeks ago.” He took her hands. “They're not ever going to be separate again.”

“But they will.” She drew her hands away. “After you're back in Philadelphia for a few weeks, you'll barely remember what I look like.”

He had her wrists handcuffed in his hands. The fury that surfaced so seldom in him seemed always on simmer when he was around her. “Why do you do that?” he demanded. “Why can't you ever take what you're given?” He swung her around until she was beneath him on the bed. “I love you.”

“Don't.” She closed her eyes as the wish nearly eclipsed the reason. “Don't say that to me.”

Shut out. She was shutting him out. Jonas felt the panic come first, then the anger. Then the determination. “I will say it. If I say it enough, sooner or later you'll start to believe it. Do you think all these nights have been a game? Haven't you felt it? Don't you feel anything?”

“I thought I felt something once before.”

“You were a child.” When she started to shake her head, he gripped her tighter. “Yes, you were. In some ways you still are, but I know what goes through you when you're with me. I know. I'm not a ghost, I'm not a memory. I'm real and I want you.”

“I'm afraid of you,” she whispered. “I'm afraid because you make me want what I can't have. I won't marry you, Jonas, because I'm through taking chances with my life and I won't take chances with my child's life. Please let me go.”

He released her, but when she stood, his arms went around her. “It isn't over for us.”

She dropped her head against his chest, pressed her cheek close. “Let me have the few days we have left. Please let me have them.”

He lifted her chin. Everything he needed to know was in her eyes. A man who knew and who planned to win could afford to wait. “You haven't dealt with anyone as stubborn as you are before this. And you haven't nearly finished dealing with me.” Then his hand gentled as he stroked her hair. “Get dressed. I'll take you to work.”

Because he acted as though nothing had been said, Liz relaxed. It was impossible, and she knew it. They'd known each other only weeks, and under circumstances that were bound to intensify any feelings. He cared. She believed that he cared, but love—the kind of love needed to build a marriage—was too much to risk.

She loved. She loved so much that she pushed him away when she wanted to pull him closer. He needed to go back to his life, back to his world. After time had passed, if he thought of her he'd think with gratitude that she had closed a door he'd opened on impulse. She would think of him. Always.

By the time Liz was walking toward the shop, she'd settled her mind. “What are you going to do today?”

“Me?” Jonas, too, had settled his mind. “I'm going to sit in the sun and do nothing.”

“Nothing?” Incredulous, Liz stared at him. “All day?”

“It's known as relaxing, or taking a day off. If you do it several days running, it's called a vacation. I was supposed to have one in Paris.”

Paris, she thought. It would suit him. She wondered briefly how the air smelled in Paris. “If you get bored, I'm sure one of the boats could use the extra crew.”

“I've had enough diving for a few days, thanks.” Jonas plopped down on a chaise in front of the shop. It was the best place to keep an eye on her.

“Miguel.” Liz automatically looked around for Luis. “You're here early.”

“I came with Luis. He's checking out the dive boat—got an early tour.”

“Yes, I know.” But she wouldn't trust Miguel to run the shop alone for long. “Why don't you help him? I'll take care of the counter.”

“
Bueno.
Oh, there were a couple of guys looking at the fishing boat. Maybe they want to rent.”

“I'll take a look. You go ahead.” Walking back, she crouched beside Jonas. “Keep an eye on the shop for me, will you? I've got a couple of customers over by the
Expatriate.
”

Jonas adjusted his sunglasses. “What do you pay per hour?”

Liz narrowed her eyes. “I might cook dinner tonight.”

With a smile, he got up to go behind the counter. “Take all the time you need.”

He made her laugh. Liz strolled down the walkway and to the pier, drinking up the morning. She could use a good fishing cruise. The aqua bikes had been ordered, but they still had to be paid for. Besides, she'd like the ride herself. It made
her think of Jonas and his unwanted catch a few weeks before. Liz laughed again as she approached the men beside her boat.

“Buenos días,”
she began. “Mr. Ambuckle.” Beaming a smile, Liz held out a hand. “I didn't know you were back. Is this one of your quick weekend trips?”

“That's right.” His almost bald head gleamed in the sun as he patted her hand. “When the mood strikes me I just gotta move.”

“Thinking about some big-game fishing this time around?”

“Funny you should mention it. I was just saying to my associate here that I only go for the big game.”

“Only the big game.” Scott Trydent turned around and pushed back his straw hat. “That's right, Clancy.”

“Now don't turn around, honey.” Ambuckle's fingers clamped over hers before she could move. “You're going to get on the boat, nice and quiet. We have some talking to do, then we might just take a little ride.”

“How long have you been using my dive shop to smuggle?” Liz saw the gun under Scott's jacket. She couldn't signal to Jonas, didn't dare.

“For the past couple of years I've found your shop's location unbeatable. You know, they ship that stuff up from Colombia and dump in Miami. The way the heat's been on the past few years, you take a big chance using the regular routes. It takes longer this way, but I lose less merchandise.”

“And you're the organizer,” she murmured. “You're the man the police want.”

“I'm a businessman,” he said with a smile. “Let's get on board, little lady.”

“The police are watching,” Liz told him as she climbed on deck.

“The police have Manchez. If he hadn't tried to pull a double cross, the last shipment would have gone down smooth.”

“A double cross?”

“That's right,” Scott put in as he flanked her. “Pablo decided he could make more free-lancing than by being a company man.”

“And by reporting on his fellow employee, Mr. Trydent moves up in rank. I work my organization on the incentive program.”

Scott grinned at Ambuckle. “Can't beat the system.”

“You had Jerry Sharpe killed.” Struggling to believe what was happening, Liz stared at the round little man who'd chatted with her and rented her tanks. “You had him shot.”

“He stole a great deal of money from me.” Ambuckle's face puckered as he thought of it. “A great deal. I had Manchez dispose of him. The truth is, I'd considered you as a liaison for some time. It seemed simpler, however, just to use your shop. My wife's very fond of you.”

“Your wife.” Liz thought of the neat, matronly woman in skirted bathing suits. “She knows you smuggle drugs, and she knows you kill people?”

“She thinks we have a great stockbroker.” Ambuckle grinned. “I've been moving snow for ten years, and my wife wouldn't know coke from powdered sugar. I like to keep business and family separate. The little woman's going to be sick when she finds out you had an accident. Now we're going to take a little ride. And we're going to talk about the three hundred thousand our friend Jerry slipped out from under my nose. Cast off, Scott.”

“No!” Thinking only of survival, Liz made a lunge toward the dock. Ambuckle had her on the deck with one shove. He shook his head, dusted his hands and turned to her. “I'd wanted to keep this from getting messy. You know, I switched gauges on your tanks, figuring you'd back off. Always had a soft spot for you, little lady. But business is business.” With a wheezy sigh, he turned to Scott. “Since you've taken over Pablo's position, I assume you know how to deal with this.”

“I certainly do.” He took out a revolver. His eyes locked on Liz's. When she caught her breath, he turned the barrel toward Ambuckle. “You're under arrest.” With his other hand, he pulled out a badge. “You have the right to remain silent…” It was the last thing Liz heard before she buried her face in her hands and wept.

“I
want to know what the hell's been going on.” They were in Moralas's office, but Jonas wouldn't sit. He stood behind Liz's chair, his fingers curled tight over the back rung. If anyone had approached her, he would have struck first and asked questions later. He'd already flattened the unfortunate detective who'd tried to hold him back when he'd seen Liz on the deck of the
Expatriate
with Scott.

With his hands folded on his desk, Moralas gave Jonas a long, quiet look. “Perhaps the explanation should come from your countryman.”

“Special Agent Donald Scott.” The man Liz had known as Scott Trydent sat on the corner of Moralas's desk. “Sorry for the deception, Liz.” Though his voice was calm and matter-of-fact, it couldn't mask the excitement that bubbled from him. As he sipped his coffee, he glanced up at Jonas. Explanations wouldn't go over easily with this one, he thought. But he'd always believed the ends justified the means. “I've been after that son of a bitch for three years.” He drank again, savoring triumph. “It took us two before we could infiltrate the ring, and even then I couldn't make contact with the head man. To get to him I had to go through more channels than
you do with the Company. He's been careful. For the past eight months I've been working with Manchez as Scott Trydent. He was the closest I could get to Ambuckle until two days ago.”

“You used her.” Jonas's hand went to Liz's shoulder. “You put her right in the middle.”

“Yeah. The problem was, for a long time we weren't sure just how involved she was. We knew about your shop, Liz. We knew you were an experienced diver. In fact, there isn't anything about you my organization didn't know. For some time, you were our number-one suspect.”

“Suspect?” She had her hands folded neatly in her lap, but the anger was boiling. “You suspected me.”

“You left the U.S. over ten years ago. You've never been back. You have both the contacts and the means to have run the ring. You keep your daughter off the island for most of the year and in one of the best schools in Houston.”

“That's my business.”

“Details like that become our business. When you took Jerry Sharpe in and gave him a job, we leaned even further toward you. He thought differently, but then we weren't using him for his opinions.”

She felt Jonas's fingers tighten and reached up to them as she spoke. “Using him?”

“I contacted Jerry Sharpe in New Orleans. He was someone else we knew everything about. He was a con, an operator, but he had style.” He took another swig of coffee as he studied Jonas. “We made him a deal. If he could get on the inside, feed us information, we'd forget about a few…indiscretions. I liked your brother,” Scott said to Jonas. “Really liked him. If he'd been able to settle a bit, he'd have made a hell of a cop. ‘Conning the bad guys,' he called it.”

“Are you saying Jerry was working for you?” Jonas felt his
emotions race toward the surface. The portrait he'd barely been able to force himself to accept was changing.

“That's right.” Scott took out a cigarette and watched the match flare as he struck it. “I liked him—I mean that. He had a way of looking at things that made you forget they were so lousy.”

That was Jerry, Jonas thought. To give himself a moment, he walked to the window. He could see the water lapping calmly against the hulls of boats. He could see the sun dancing down on it and children walking along the sea wall. The scene had been almost the same the day he'd arrived on Cozumel. Some things remained the same; others altered constantly. “What happened?”

“He had a hard time following orders. He wanted to push them too fast too far. He told me once he had something to prove, to himself and to the other part of him. The better part of him.”

Jonas turned slowly. The pain came again, an ache. Liz saw it in his eyes and went to stand with him. “Go on.”

“He got the idea into his head to rip off the money from a shipment. I didn't know about it until he called me from Acapulco. He figured he'd put the head man in a position where he'd have to deal personally. I told him to stay put, that we were scrubbing him. He'd have been taken back to the States and put somewhere safe until the job was over.” He tossed the match he'd been holding into an ashtray on Moralas's desk. “He didn't listen. He came back to Cozumel and tried to deal with Manchez himself. It was over before I knew. Even if I'd have known, I can't be sure I could've stopped it. We don't like to lose civilians, Mr. Sharpe. I don't like to lose friends.”

The anger drained from him degree by degree. It would have been so like Jerry, Jonas thought. An adventure, the excitement, the impulsiveness. “Go on.”

“Orders came down to put the pressure on Liz.” Scott gave
a half laugh that had nothing to do with humor. “Orders from both sides. It wasn't until after your trip to Acapulco that we were sure you weren't involved in the smuggling. You stopped being a suspect and became the decoy.”

“I came to the police.” She looked at Moralas. “I came to you. You didn't tell me.”

“I wasn't aware of Agent Scott's identity until yesterday. I knew only that we had a man on the inside and that it was necessary to use you.”

“You were protected,” Scott put in. “There wasn't a day you weren't guarded by Moralas's men and by mine. Your being here complicated things,” he said to Jonas. “You were pushing too close to the bone. I guess you and Jerry had more in common than looks.”

Jonas felt the weight on the chain around his neck. “Maybe we did.”

“Well, we'd come to the point where we had to settle for Manchez and a few others or go for broke. We went for broke.”

“The drop we made. It was a setup.”

“Manchez had orders to do whatever he had to to get back the money Jerry had taken. They didn't know about the safe-deposit box.” He blew out a stream of smoke. “I had to play it pretty fast and loose to keep that under wraps. But then we didn't know about it either, until you led us to it. As far as Ambuckle was concerned, you had the money, and he was going to get it back. He wanted it to look as though you'd been running the smuggling operation together. When you were found dead, the heat would be off of him. He planned to lie low a while, then pick up business elsewhere. I had that from Manchez. You were set up,” he agreed. “So was he. I got to Merriworth, made enough noise about how Manchez was about to double-cross to set him off. When Manchez was
snorkeling to your boat, I was on the phone with the man I knew as Clancy. I got a promotion, and Clancy came back to deal with you himself.”

Liz tried to see it as he did, as a chess game, as any game with pawns. She couldn't. “You knew who he was yesterday morning and you still had me get on that boat.”

“There were a dozen sharpshooters in position. I had a gun, Ambuckle didn't. We wanted him to order Liz's murder, and we wanted him to tell her as much as possible. When this goes to court, we want it tidy. We want him put away for a long time. You're a lawyer, Sharpe. You know how these things can go. We can make a clean collar, have a stack of evidence and lose. I've watched too many of these bastards walk.” He blew out smoke between set teeth. “This one's not walking anywhere but into federal prison.”

“There is still the question of whether these men will be tried in your country or mine.” Moralas spoke softly, and didn't move when Scott whirled on him.

“Look, Moralas—”

“This will be discussed later. You have my thanks and my apologies,” he said to Jonas and Liz. “I regret we saw no other way.”

“So do I,” Liz murmured, then turned to Scott. “Was it worth it?”

“Ambuckle brought thousands of pounds of cocaine into the States. He's responsible for more than fifteen murders in the U.S. and Mexico. Yeah, it was worth it.”

She nodded. “I hope you understand that I never want to see you again.” After closing her hand around Jonas's she managed a smile. “You were a lousy student.”

“Sorry we never had that drink.” He looked back at Jonas. “Sorry about a lot of things.”

“I appreciate what you told me about my brother. It makes a difference.”

“I'm recommending him for a citation. They'll send it to your parents.”

“It'll mean a great deal to them.” He offered his hand and meant it. “You were doing your job—I understand that. We all do what we have to do.”

“That doesn't mean I don't regret it.”

Jonas nodded. Something inside him was free, completely free. “As to putting Liz through hell for the past few weeks…” Very calmly, Jonas curled his hand into a fist and planted it solidly on Scott's jaw. The thin man snapped a chair in half as he crashed into it on his way to the floor.

“Jonas!” Stunned, Liz could do no more than stare. Then, incredibly, she felt the urge to giggle. With one hand over her mouth, she leaned into Jonas and let the laughter come. Moralas remained contentedly at his desk, sipping coffee.

Scott rubbed his jaw gingerly. “We all do what we have to do,” he murmured.

Jonas only turned his back. “Goodbye, Captain.”

Moralas stayed where he was. “Goodbye, Mr. Sharpe.” He rose and, in a rare show of feeling, took Liz's hand and kissed it.
“Vaya con dios.”

He waited until the door had shut behind them before he looked down at Scott again. “Your government will, of course, pay for the chair.”

 

He was gone. She'd sent him away. After nearly two weeks, Liz awoke every morning with the same thoughts. Jonas was gone. It was for the best. After nearly two weeks she awoke every morning struggling to convince herself. If she'd followed her heart, she would have said yes the moment he'd asked her
to marry him. She would have left everything she'd built behind and gone with him. And ruined his life, perhaps her own.

He was already back in his own world, poring through law books, facing juries, going to elegant dinner parties. By now, she was sure his time in Cozumel was becoming vague. After all, he hadn't written. He hadn't called. He'd left the day after Ambuckle had been taken into custody without another word about love. He'd conquered his ghosts when he'd faced Manchez and had walked away whole.

He was gone, and she was once more standing on her own. As she was meant to, Liz thought. She'd have no regrets. That she'd promised herself. What she'd given to Jonas had been given without conditions or expectations. What he'd given to her she'd never lose.

The sun was high and bright, she thought. The air was as mellow as quiet music. Her lover was gone, but she, too, was whole. A month of memories could be stretched to last a lifetime. And Faith was coming home.

Liz pulled her bike into a parking space and listened to the thunder of a plane taking off. Even now Faith and her parents were crossing the Gulf. Liz left her bike and walked toward the terminal. It was ridiculous to feel nervous, she told herself, but she couldn't prevent it. It was ridiculous to arrive at the airport nearly an hour early, but she'd have gone mad at home. She skirted around a bed of marigolds and geraniums. She'd buy flowers, she decided. Her mother loved flowers.

Inside the terminal, the air was cool and full of noise. Tourists came and went but rarely passed the shops without a last-minute purchase. Liz started in the first store and worked her way down, buying consistently and strictly on impulse. By the time she arrived at the gate, she carried two shopping bags and an armful of dyed carnations.

Any minute, she thought. She'd be here any minute. Liz shifted both bags to one hand and nervously brushed at her hair. Passengers waited for their flights by napping in the black plastic chairs or reading guidebooks. She watched a woman check her lipstick in a compact mirror and wondered if she had time to run into the ladies room to examine her own face. Gnawing on her lip, she decided she couldn't leave, even for a moment. Neither could she sit, so she paced back and forth in front of the wide windows and watched the planes come and go. It was late. Planes were always late when you were waiting for them. The sky was clear and blue. She knew it was equally clear in Houston because she'd been checking the weather for days. But the plane was late. Impatient, she walked back to security to ask about the status. She should have known better.

Liz got a shrug and the Mexican equivalent of It'll be here when it comes. In another ten minutes, she was ready to scream. Then she saw it. She didn't have to hear the flight announcement to know. With her heart thudding dully, she waited by the door.

Faith wore blue striped pants and a white blouse. Her hair's grown, Liz thought as she watched her daughter come down the steps. She's grown—though she knew it would never do to tell Faith so. She'd just wrinkle her nose and roll her eyes. Her palms were wet. Don't cry, don't cry, Liz ordered herself. But the tears were already welling. Then Faith looked up and saw her. With a grin and a wave she was racing forward. Liz dropped her bags and reached out for her daughter.

“Mom, I got to sit by the window, but I couldn't see our house.” As she babbled, Faith held her mother's neck in a stranglehold. “I brought you a present.”

With her face buried against Faith's throat, Liz drew in the scents—powder, soap and chocolate from the streak on the
front of the white blouse. “Let me look at you.” Drawing her back, Liz soaked up the sight of her. She's beautiful, Liz realized with a jolt. Not just cute or sweet or pretty any longer. Her daughter was beautiful.

I can't let her go again. It hit her like a wall. I'll never be able to let her go again. “You've lost a tooth,” Liz managed as she brushed back her daughter's hair.

“Two.” Faith grinned to show the twin spaces. “Grandma said I could put them under my pillow, but I brought them with me so I can put them under my real pillow. Will I get pesos?”