To Love a Scoundrel (27 page)

"It's a she," he whispered, leaning in even closer. "I caught her going through my things. I bound and gagged her so she wouldn't start screaming and disturb your other passengers. I left her tied to the bedpost in my room."

"A woman?" Brent said, strangling on the word, pretty sure he knew which woman Poindexter was talking about. "And you actually caught her in your cabin?"

"Incredible, isn't it? And, if you don't mind my adding, a little disgusting. However," Harry sniffed, "the deed has been done, and now I must ask you to dispose of her. It's that little fortune-teller. I should have known she wasn't quite right, but I did so want to believe in her."

"So it is Jewel," Brent finally choked out, his thought processes slowed by the bourbon. "You've got Jewel tied up in your room?''

"I most certainly do. I caught her not ten minutes past." Harry narrowed his eyes and studied Brent Connors, suddenly wondering if he shouldn't have meted out the girl's punishment himself. "I have noticed you've taken more than a passing interest in the Gypsy. Will you have a problem bringing her to task for her indiscretion?''

"No, of course not," Brent said absently as he hopped off the bar stool. "I'm just wondering why she'd go through your room. What on earth could she have been thinking of?"

"I believe she thought to rob me," Harry said impatiently. "Now will you see to her, or do I have to take care of this."

"I'll take care of the matter immediately," Brent said, shaking his head to clear it. "May I have your key, please?'' Harry deposited the brass key in his host's hand. "It's the California Room. And I do expect you to return with a full report on this girl, you know, what her punishment will be, where you intend to leave her, all of it."

"Certainly, Mr. Poindexter," Brent said, suddenly wondering what the man's reaction would have been if he'd said "Mr. Benton."

"You wait right here. This shouldn't take too long." As Brent turned to leave, he called out to Reba. "Mr. Poindexter's drinks will be on the house today."

"Why, thank you," Harry said, settling in at the bar. "I'll be right here, in that case."

"Good," Brent said, tipping his hat. "I want to know exactly where I can find you." Then he took off for the passenger deck.

There could be only one answer, Brent thought to himself as he hurried to the stateroom: Harrison Poindexter was, in fact, Harry Benton. Why else would Jewel have put herself in such a position? Why would she riffle through a passenger's belongings? What possible purpose other than the pursuit of Harry Benton?

Brent was still asking himself those questions as he unlocked and opened the door and stepped into the stateroom. But when he saw Jewel struggling against the silk ties that bound her to a solid walnut bedpost, the questions and their answers suddenly seemed insignificant.

"Good Lord Almighty," he said thickly.

She turned. Her eyes widened as he approached, but the cravat Harry had used as a gag kept her from saying anything but "Mumphhh. Greeaz?"

Brent reached for her, distress hoarsening his usually melodic voice. "What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed."

"Mufferenn—ake oaf!"

His features tense, concern carving deep grooves in his brow, Brent ignored the gag and slid his hands around behind her. After releasing the scarf from the bedpost, he reached down to untie her wrists. When she began to turn to accommodate him, Brent hesitated, then stopped her movement. "No. Wait a minute. We need to get a couple of things straight before I do something stupid like turn you loose."

"Gwat?" Jewel narrowed her eyes in warning. "Brmph."

"Sorry, but I've got some things to say, and I don't think you'll let me say them unless you remain my captive audience."

Jewel rolled her eyes and groaned.

"I knew you'd agree with me," he said taking her into his arms. "I want you to know that I've finally realized how difficult I've made your life and, to some extent, your job."

Again she rolled her eyes, but this time she added a weary nod.

He grinned sheepishly. "I'll take that to mean you're usually a much better detective than you've been since you met me?"

Again a moan accompanied by vigorous nodding.

"Well, I'm here to tell you how really sorry I am and to inform you that things are going to change. I've decided that from now on, as long as you're on the Harry Benton case, anyway, I'm your partner. We'll work together toward the capture of Harry Benton.''

"Moffed
drmmfdV
' she said against the gag as she stomped his boot with the heel of her shoe. "Drwell?"

"Hey," he complained, rubbing his injured foot against his pant leg. "Is that anyway to treat your new partner?"

"Brmphhh
," she warned, one eye narrowed to a slit.

"Apology accepted. Now for the details of our new alliance. First I think we ought to set some rules. I could use your help with them. Can you keep a civil tongue if I remove the gag?"

Jewel nodded vigorously.

"Do you promise to listen to me? I can put the gag back on just as fast as I take it off, you know," he added, pointing to her bound wrists.

Once more she rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, but again she nodded.

"Very well." Brent pulled her close and reached around behind her head. As soon as he loosened the knot, she spit out the wad of silk and began to lick her dry lips.

Brent resumed his speech. "Now then, as I was saying, this partnership requires complete honesty."

"You're not a detective, and I'll decide when I need a partner."

Slowly untying the cravat, Brent softly warned, "You're not listening."

She bit her lip and said, "Go on, then. I said I'd listen, but I don't recall promising to agree with you."

"That's better." Draping the silk cravat across her shoulders, he pulled her close. "Now then, since we both know now that Poindexter is actually Harry Benton—''

Jewel gasped and raised her head. "What?"

"That's the first rule," he declared. "No more lies. I know he's Benton, and you know he's Benton."

Realizing there was no point in arguing with him, Jewel let out her breath in a low moan. "Keep your voice down. We are in his room, you know."

"All right," he whispered, feeling decidedly clandestine. "As I was saying, since we both know who he is, why don't you just arrest him and get it over with?''

Jewel grimaced and leaned back. "You've been drinking."

"And you thought Brent Connors had ruined you as a detective," he said with a crooked grin.

"He has," she shot back. "This little incident alone could have cost me my job. I lay the blame for my lack of caution directly at your feet. Harry never would have caught me if I hadn't been in such a big hurry to trap him and get the hell off this ship."

"Ohhh," he groaned, his expression injured. "Now, you don't mean that. Say you don't mean that."

Jewel looked into his mischievous eyes, noting they were slightly out of focus, and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "No," she conceded in a gentle whisper, "I don't suppose I do, but you have had a dreadful effect on my concentration."

"So sorry to be such a distraction," he said with a lazy smile. "But since I am, and since you got caught, why don't you just arrest him?"

"I can't do that unless I actually catch him in the act of swindling someone or find stolen goods in his possession. As far as I can tell, this room is clean."

"Then let's give him someone to cheat."

"I'm going to do better than that, now that I have no choice. I'm going to find a mark for him, and then I'm going to help him pull the job." Loath to tell him exactly how she intended to do that, Jewel tried one more time to persuade him to back out. "Please promise me you'll stay out of it and let me do my job this time?"

"No way, Pinky. We're partners, remember?"

"Pinky?"

"Your secret code name." He chuckled at her chagrin. "So how are we going to pull this off? Do you have a plan, or should I think of one?"

"I have a plan all right, but it does not include you."

"Let's hear it. I'll decide if I think it will work or not."

Her voice rising higher than good sense dictated, Jewel said, "You can start by untying me."

"If you don't agree to this partnership and keep me informed of your progress with Harry," he parried, "I'll march right downstairs and demand that he return my mother's jewelry."

"Oh, Brent, you wouldn't."

"I don't want to. Do you have a better idea?"

She blew out a heavy sigh. "All right. Partners. All the way."

His dimples deepening, he grinned at her and said, "So? What's the plan?"

"I'm going to talk him into teaching me his trade. Then I'll convince him that he should make me his partner."

He frowned, still trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain. "Why would he do that? He's pretty successful on his own, isn't he?"

"Yes, but I think he'll take me on."

Brent shook his head. "It'll never work. He thinks you're a two-bit thief and wants you removed from this ship. He'll never take you on."

"Yes, he will," she insisted, deciding to trust him with the plan, if not the truth. "I intend to convince him that I'm his daughter."

"Oh, good grief."

"It will work. I know it will. I've got a stack of information that would reach my waist on that man. I know what I'm talking about, and I know it won't be any trouble for me to convince him that he's my father. You're simply going to have to trust me on some of this."

Again he drew in his breath, but this time Brent couldn't think of a single objection. "All right, then, but if it doesn't work—"

"If it doesn't work, I'll be more than happy to hear your ideas."

"It's a deal."

"Good. Will you untie me now so we can shake on it?''

Brent grinned down at her, his mouth crooked, his eyes playful. "In a minute. First we have a few more rules to discuss. Personal rules."

"Why don't we discuss the rules later?"

"Nope, we're going to settle everything now."

"All right," she agreed, slumping her shoulders, steeling her heart.

"First," Brent began, "I think it's important that we keep our new partnership strictly on a business level. There'll be no more of that,'' he said wagging a finger in her face. "No more looking at my mouth as if you owned it, and no more staring into my eyes. You make me nervous when you do that."

Jewel recognized the effects of too much bourbon, saw the emotions he sought to hide through drollery. "Oh, Brent," she said with a soft sigh, "I'm so sorry about what happened in your room. If I could, I'd take back."

"Shush," he said. "We'll just have to think of this as a silly day of... of
needs.
It never really happened. Didn't mean a thing."

"Brent—"

"There'll be no more interrupting, either. No more looking at me, and no more interrupting me." He stared down at her mouth, caught the gentle concern in her eyes, and grew reckless. "And no more of this." He crushed his mouth to hers, desperate for a final taste of her, unable to stay away.

When some measure of reason returned, Brent released her and took a couple of steps back. "Definitely no more of that," he said thickly, his expression dazed.

"Brent," she said softly, more than ready to claim her share of the responsibility for his mood. "Untie me now. Please do it before Harry comes back."

"Right," he said. "We don't want to upset ole Harry now, do we?"

As he fumbled with the silk scarf binding her wrists, Jewel cautioned, "Try to use some other name when referring to Harry. You might slip up and call him by his real name otherwise. That would ruin everything."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, saluting her after he finished untying the knot.

When her hands were free, Jewel rubbed her wrists and glanced up at Brent. "About some of the things I said earlier."

"Nope," he said holding his hand up. "No more of that nonsense, either." And then, because he couldn't stand her pity and couldn't trust himself to stay in the room with her any longer, he decided to let her think he was tipsier than he was. Brent staggered backwards, then said, "I believe I'd best get some air. Why don't you go on about your business with what's-his-name? I'll check in with you later and see how your daughter act went over. All right with you, Pinky?"

"Are you all right?" she asked as she joined him at the door. "You're looking a little"—she grinned in spite of her promises—"wobbly.''

Catching the innuendo, fighting the urge to take her in his arms, Brent led her outside the stateroom, then locked the door. "I'm just fine. Go on. Do your job, and please see if you can't do it right this time."

"Thanks, partner. I'll give it my best."

Then she turned and hurried on down to the saloon deck. Blocking all thoughts of Brent Connors from her mind, Jewel concentrated on gaining Harry's trust as she walked into the smoke-filled room.

Understanding that her newest plan was as dangerous as it was daring, Jewel took a deep breath and stepped up to the bar. "Mr. Poindexter, sir?" she said in a tiny voice from behind him.