Chapter 4
Will and Gwen had accompanied Courtney and Kerry to the morgue. Gwen had insisted on being with him when the nervous girls viewed the body of the young blonde found on the beach. He sympathized with what the girls had to face, and was damn grateful there was an older woman around to oversee the emotional young females, a job he didn’t like, didn’t want and avoided at all costs. Not much scared Will, but women’s emotions unnerved him in a way little else did.
“Oh, God, it’s Tori!” Kerry had cried, then turned around and fallen into Will’s arms. Crying her eyes out, she’d clung to him.
Courtney had taken one look at the corpse, went white as a sheet and threw up. Gwen had put her arm around the girl and led her to the nearest restroom.
After their visit to the morgue, Gwen waited in the car with the girls, playing mother hen, which apparently came naturally to her. Will went inside the police station alone and spoke to the officer in charge of the case.
“Now that the girl has been identified, we will contact her family in the United States,” a middle-aged, slightly balding Detective Sanchez said.
“Tori Boyd was last seen with her friend, Cheryl Kress. I’m a P.I., working for Cheryl’s father. I’d appreciate any information you can give me about Ms. Boyd’s death. That info might somehow help me find Ms. Kress.”
“We can’t say for sure until an autopsy has been performed, but we believe the girl was strangled, so we are treating this case as a homicide.”
“Any suspects?” Will asked.
“No, none at this time.”
Will handed Sanchez his business card. “I’m leaving later today for Jamaica to follow a lead on Ms. Kress’s whereabouts. I’d appreciate your contacting me if you get a break in this case.” The only real lead Will had was knowing Cheryl had last been seen with Jordan Elders. If the girl was still alive, there was a good possibility she was with this guy.
Sanchez nodded, then asked, “Does Señorita Kress’s family wish to report their daughter as missing?”
“No, not yet. They prefer for my agency to handle the search for the time being.”
Will finished his conversation with Sanchez as quickly as possible, knowing he had two badly shaken and frightened young women waiting in his car. Thank goodness for Gwen. Although he’d noticed her discomfort while they’d been at the morgue, she had been a rock for Courtney and Kerry, saving him from having to deal with them. Comfort and understanding weren’t his strong suits. As his old man had often said, “That’s women stuff. Leave it to them.”
When he returned to his rental car, he found Gwen in the backseat between the two girls. Courtney rested her head on Gwen’s shoulder, while Kerry, her eyes glazed, held tightly to Gwen’s hand.
The minute Will got in the car, Gwen said, “We’re taking the girls back to the villa to pack, and then we’re personally putting them on the first available flight back home.”
“We are?” He locked gazes with Gwen. Obstinate determination glinted in her dark eyes. “Okay, we are.”
Two hours later, with Kerry and Courtney safely aboard a flight back to the United States and Gwen checked out of her hotel, Will drove the two of them back to his hotel. While they had waited at the airport with the girls, Will had contacted Sawyer and filled him in on the situation.
Will unlocked the door to his room, motioned for Gwen to enter first, then suggested she take a seat.
“I need to contact my boss and see if he’s spoken to Mr. Kress before I get my stuff together,” Will said. “It could be that with this new development, he’ll want the police involved in his daughter’s disappearance and Sawyer will pull me in off the case.”
“If that happens, then you’ll go back to Atlanta today, won’t you?” Gwen looked at him, a silent plea in her big brown eyes.
“If I’m called off this case, I’ll get you to Jamaica today and help you try to find your father before I fly back to Atlanta.”
Gwen released a deep sigh. “Thank you. You don’t have to, you know. You aren’t obligated to—”
“All I’m promising is to take you to Kingston and make some inquires.” He held up his hand in a “stop” gesture when she started to speak. “If your father’s not there or already gone by the time we arrive, then you’re on your own. Understand?”
“I understand.”
Will sat on the edge of the bed and called Dundee headquarters. Daisy put him through to Sawyer immediately.
“I just got off the phone with Mr. Kress,” Sawyer said. “For the second time today. Since learning about Tori Boyd’s death, that she was possibly murdered, he’s understandably upset. He’s concerned about his daughter’s safety, so he’s flying to Puerto Nuevo later today, with Tori Boyd’s parents, and they plan to speak personally to the local authorities.”
“Then I’m off the case?”
“No, not at all. Mr. Kress wants you to follow any and all leads. He wants Dundee’s on the case until his daughter is found.”
“Okay, that means taking the Dundee jet to Jamaica today. And it’s possible I may need to rent a cruiser.”
“Buy or rent whatever you need. Money is no object to Mr. Kress. He wants his daughter found.”
“Okay. I’ll check in later, if and when I know something.”
His conversation finished, Will glanced over his shoulder at Gwen. “I’m still on the case, and I’ve been given a blank check for expenses. Is there anything you need to do in Puerto Nuevo before we go?”
She shook her head.
“Then come on. I’ll call the pilot and tell him to have the jet ready for us when we arrive at the private airstrip. We’re going to Jamaica.”
Gwen had never flown in a private jet before and had to admit she was more than a little impressed. She sat on the large sofa in the luxurious lounge and tried to relax. Since she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, it would easy for her to fall asleep. Maybe she should take a nap while Will was in the cockpit with the pilot. Leaning back, letting her head rest comfortably on the cushioned leather, she closed her eyes and concentrated on erasing everything from her mind.
Gwen realized blocking out the events of the past two days was impossible. Here she was flying from Puerto Nuevo to Jamaica on a private jet with a man she’d met only last night. A man she instinctively knew had seen more than his share of trouble. He had shown her his credentials. He was a licensed private investigator. The problem wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, at least on some level. No, the problem was that she found him attractive, and not just his rugged good looks, but the way he seemed comfortable taking charge, making decisions, helping both her and the young women who had been forced to identify the body of their murdered friend. Will was one of those guys people depended on because he got the job done.
Gwen tried to shake off the feelings that Will stirred to life inside her. He was the opposite of her father in so many ways and definitely nothing like her ex-husband. She had chosen Jeremy Charles because she’d thought they had a great deal in common. He had been a botany major at Auburn, where they’d attended college together, and he’d been the most logical-thinking, down-to-earth young man she’d ever met. After being deserted by a father who kept his head in the clouds, she had wanted a husband who had both feet firmly planted on the ground.
She opened her eyes and stared up at Will, who was smiling down at her.
“You weren’t asleep, were you?” he asked.
“No, just relaxing a little,” she lied.
“I was wondering if you’re hungry. We have a fully stocked galley.”
“I’m not very hungry.”
“Come on, you need to eat something. I’m going to make myself a big, thick sandwich and eat half a bag of chips and maybe some chocolate ice cream, too. What do you say?”
Chocolate ice cream? Was he kidding? She could eat chocolate ice cream every day and never tire of it. It was one of her comfort foods. “I’ll take a sandwich, no chips and just a little ice cream.”
“Give me five minutes.”
When he turned and headed toward the galley, she called to him. “I’d be glad to help.”
“You stay put, kick off your shoes and relax again. I can put together a couple of sandwiches.”
Half an hour later, with their meal eaten, Gwen curled up on the sofa, her shoes on the floor, while Will sat across from her in one of the swivel lounge chairs.
“What do we do when we arrive in Kingston?” Gwen asked. “I suppose we should check with all the marinas and—”
“That’s being done,” he said.
“It’s being done? How’s that possible?” Then realization dawned on her. “Oh, right. I forgot that you work for some high-powered investigation agency. I suppose they’re running a check right now.”
“They’re going through the usual channels to get what information they can. But Dundee’s has contacts in various places around the world, so when we need certain information, we use locals whenever possible.”
“Are you telling me that Dundee’s has a contact in Kingston?”
“Yes, we do. And at this very moment, he’s doing some of the leg work, saving us time when we land.” Will checked his wristwatch. “In about twenty minutes.”
“That soon?” Gwen sat up straight, lifted her foot and extended it enough to grab one shoe with her toe.
“It’s a short flight, less than two hours.”
“So, what do we do when we land, meet the Dundee contact?”
“That’s the second thing we’ll do. The first thing we’ll do is talk to a member of the JCM, a Lieutenant Seabert.”
“The JCM?” Gwen asked.
“Jamaica Constabulary Force.”
“Oh. So, why are we going to the police?”
“Dundee’s has notified the Kingston authorities that we’re investigating a missing person’s case and gave them the names of the people who might be involved.”
“Including my father’s name.” Had her father’s misadventures led to this—to him somehow being involved with one girl’s murder and another’s disappearance? Please, God, don’t let Daddy have had anything to do with what happened to Tori Boyd.
“Yes, including your father’s name.”
“You don’t know for sure that Cheryl Kress is with Jordan Elders and my father.”
“You’re right, I don’t know it for a fact. But both Cheryl and Tori were last seen with Jordan. And Jordan left Puerto Nuevo with your father, a woman named Molly Esteban, who we know has a criminal record, and a guy named Mick McGuire, who’s captaining the cruiser your father rented.”
“I’m surprised Dundee’s hasn’t come up with information about this Captain McGuire.” She noted the odd expression on Will’s face. “Oh, they have, haven’t they?”
“McGuire’s an alias. One of many this guy has used, if he’s the same Mick McGuire. He’s been in the Caribbean area for years, in and out of trouble. He’s been suspected of smuggling, gunrunning and drug trafficking. He’s served time in prison, but mostly for petty stuff, just like Molly.”
“Wonderful. Just wonderful. This McGuire man and the Esteban woman are the investors my father was so excited about. And they’re criminals. Somehow, in my gut, I sensed something wasn’t right about people with enough money to help my father finance his latest expedition. Not unless they were as crazy as he is.”
“If we’re lucky, we’ll catch up with them in Kingston.”
“And if we’re not that lucky?”
“Then we’ll find out where they went and catch them at the next port.”
“That might not be possible, not if they head out to sea, straight toward Bermuda, directly into the Devil’s Triangle.”
Lieutenant Seabert had done nothing to allay Gwen’s fears that her father had gotten himself involved with a couple of dangerous criminals. Instead, Will realized grimly, the lieutenant had only frightened her more when he told them that Mick McGuire, alias Michael Smith, Mike Willis, Micah Muir, was suspected of murder. Several murders to be exact.
If Will thought it would do any good, he’d suggest that she let him handle things with their contact, while she waited like a good little girl in the car. But being a realist Will knew that wasn’t about to happen. Gwen was the kind of woman who would resent a man trying to keep her safely in the background. And that’s the reason he included her in his meeting with their Dundee contact, a wiry, brown-skinned Jamaican named Webster. Webster was a good operative. Dundee’s had used his expertise in the past. So had the CIA.
“Where are we meeting him?” Gwen asked, as Will drove the rental car they’d picked up at the airport straight toward their destination.
“The Caribbean Marina,” Will replied.
“Do you think that’s where my father’s rental boat is docked?”
“Webster didn’t say.”
“Well, what exactly did he say?”
“He said to meet him at the marina, that he had information for us.”
“Why didn’t you—”
“Gwen, stop asking me so many questions. You’ll know what I know when Webster tells me. Got it?”
“Yes, I’ve got it!” she snapped at him, obviously aggravated.
He could explain that Webster didn’t deliver messages over the phone, that he was a look-you-in-the-eye kind of guy. But he damn well didn’t feel like explaining every move he made to her. After all, he was doing her a favor by letting her tag along. She should be grateful and just keep her mouth shut. But since she was a woman, that might prove impossible.
Ten minutes later they arrived at the marina. The piers were lined with docked sea craft, everything from huge yachts to small fishing boats. If the Sun Dancer was here, Webster would know and could take them directly to it.
“He said he’d meet us at the entrance,” Will told Gwen as he opened the passenger door for her.
She got out of the car but didn’t say a word, just followed along beside him as he headed for the entrance. Webster, wearing white slacks, sandals and a colorful floral shirt, emerged from where he’d been waiting just inside the stone pillar entrance.
“Who is she?” Webster asked, appraising Gwen as if she were a priceless jewel he wanted to purchase.
“She’s mine,” Will replied, not giving any thought to his answer.
Webster lifted his eyebrows. “Not your usual, is she, mon? This one, she is a lady.”
“Thank you, Mr. Webster.” Gwen smiled at the Dundee contact.
“Just Webster, pretty lady.”
“Back to business,” Will said.
“They are not here.” Webster looked directly at Will.
“They’re not here at this marina or they’re not here in Kingston?” Will asked.
“They were in Kingston. Molly Esteban delivered a package. They were gone, back to sea, in three hours’ time.”
“Gone where?” Gwen asked.
“What about the package?” Will wanted to know.
Webster glanced at Gwen. “Gone to the next drop-off. San Juan, Puerto Rico.” He looked back at Will. “We think the package contained cocaine. Molly and Mick are not major players, but they wish to be.”
“Have the San Juan authorities been contacted?” Will asked.
“No, mon. The time is not right.”
“What do you mean—” Gwen said.
“Now, don’t you worry about things that are none of your business, honey.” Will hurriedly draped his arm around her shoulders and dragged her up against his side.
Webster chuckled. Gwen bristled, but thankfully kept her mouth shut.
“Who’s our contact in San Juan?” Will asked.
“Jose. He’s new in the business, but you can trust him.”
Five minutes later Will and Gwen were back in the rental car heading for the airport. Gwen hadn’t spoken to him since they left the marina. He knew she was as mad as hell.
“Okay, let me have it.” He hazarded a glance at her stern face.
“Is all this cloak-and-dagger nonsense really necessary?” she asked. “And what was that ‘she’s mine’ business all about, anyway?”
“Look, if you don’t like the way I do things, then when we get back to the airport, we can go our separate ways. But I can be in San Juan in less than two hours and have a good chance of catching up with Jordan Elders. Don’t forget that my only interest is finding Cheryl Kress.”
Gwen fumed. Will could almost see smoke coming out her ears.
She didn’t say another word all the way to the airport.
The Dundee contact in San Juan met them at the airport. Jose was short, stocky and remarkably good looking, with curly black hair and huge black eyes. He was pleasant to Gwen but for the most part ignored her.
He spoke rapidly in Spanish as he zipped along in late-evening traffic. Gwen, who was squeezed between the two men, kept her hands in her lap and listened, hoping that sooner or later, Will would translate at least part of the conversation.
He didn’t. Jerk.
Glancing out the windshield, she watched the scenery flash by as they sped along. Gwen thought that under different circumstances she would enjoy doing some sightseeing. She’d never been to Puerto Rico before. Usually on vacation trips she visited botanical gardens, explored nature trails and loved collecting information about the local flora.
It was almost twilight when they pulled up in the parking area of a small marina. Jose parked the car, got out and disappeared. Gwen crossed her arms over her chest and looked straight ahead, determined not to be the first one who spoke.
“Jose is checking to see if our cruiser is ready,” Will said.
Snapping around to face him, Gwen stared at him, puzzled and speechless.
“The Sun Dancer is one step ahead of us,” Will told her. “They left here about three hours ago, after Molly made a delivery.”
“Why are we renting a cruiser instead of flying to the next destination?”
“Because the next destination is the Atlantic Ocean, somewhere between here and Bermuda.”
“Crap! They’re actually letting Daddy go on his adventure, aren’t they? But if they’re smuggling drugs, why would they?”
“Your father’s mad adventure is a good front for Molly and Mick. They could be headed anywhere, maybe the Bahamas, maybe Bermuda. What harm would it do to let your father think they were helping him search for his mythical island?”
“You and Jose were doing a great deal of talking. Is that all he told you?”
“No, that wasn’t all. It seems five people were seen aboard the Sun Dancer as it headed out to sea.”
“Five people?”
“Mick and Molly, an old man fitting your father’s description, a young man, whom we assume was Jordan Elders and a young redhead.”
“Cheryl Kress?”
“That’s my guess.”
“You think she didn’t go with Jordan willingly, don’t you?”
“I don’t know and I’m not making any assumptions about why she might be with your father and his assistant.”
“And with two dangerous criminals.”
“Remember that it’s highly unlikely your father and Jordan know Molly and Mick are criminals.”
“But if they killed Tori Boyd, then surely—”
“If Mick killed Tori, he would hardly have done it in front of witnesses,” Will said.
“Then my father and Jordan really might not know the kind of people they’ve hooked up with.”
“Let’s hope they don’t. As long as they believe Mick and Molly are investors, people who’ve simply bought into your father’s crazy dream, then your father, Jordan and Cheryl should be safe.”
“And if they learn the truth?”
“Let’s hope we find them before that happens.”