Chapter 7
SEVEN
As the valet helped Kenzie into the passenger seat of his Porsche, Jaz slid behind the wheel and started the engine, then lowered the windows to let the evening breeze in.
“The night’s just getting started.” He rested his hand on Kenzie’s knee, his voice dropping to that lazy playboy drawl that had become second nature. He hated every syllable but sold it with a wink.
Kenzie tensed under his hand. When he glanced over, he caught her confusion and the questions swimming in those beautiful eyes.
He wagged his eyebrows. “I have plans for you.”
She played along, swatting him in the arm. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Insatiable when it comes to you, gorgeous.” He waved to the valet, who gaped voyeur-style, then pulled away from the curb.
He drove slowly, meandering along the winding road toward the resort’s exit, replaying everything that had happened since they’d arrived, every word Magras had spoken.
The man wasn’t just paranoid, he was methodical.
He had resources, connections, a network that stretched across the Caribbean like a spider’s web.
And Jaz was a fly who’d been trapped in its threads for years.
Had Magras put a listening device in his car?
Probably. Jaz wouldn’t put anything past the man, especially considering he’d been directed to plant his share in the cars of business rivals and potential partners.
After the explosion on the Blue Fantasy—and Jaz’s conspicuous absence that afternoon—Magras was wise to be suspicious.
He should have warned her.
At the guard shack, they were waved through by the attendant, who said, “Have a good night, Jaz.”
He called out the window, “You too.” He turned toward Gustavia and hit the gas. “Well, gorgeous, what’d you think?” He needed to cut her off before she started peppering him with questions. He figured she had more than a few.
Kenzie was a quick study. She must have guessed that there might be a listening device because she started babbling about the party, remarking on everything from the delicious appetizers, which she must’ve sampled when he’d been inside, to the beautiful resort, to the people she’d met.
“Hmm.” He took her hand and squeezed. “Like that guy trying to pick you up?”
“He was a little close, wasn’t he?” She giggled, the sound almost authentic. “Why, you jealous?”
“I wanted to slug him.” The words were in character, and also a little bit true. When he’d first seen the man cozying up to her, he’d been shocked by a wave of very uncharacteristic jealousy. “I should be commended for my self-control.”
“I’ll have to think of a suitable reward.”
It was rare the moments when he was in his playboy persona that he wished it were real. This was one of those moments.
“And the hotel!” Kenzie/Simone was back to babbling. “I wish we’d had time to explore the grounds. The pool was so pretty at night, and thank you for introducing me to that sweet family.”
Jaz half hoped Magras would hear how she referred to him as “sweet.” The thought almost made him smile.
“Are those two a couple, Jean-Pierre and Rosa? They’re not exactly…peers.”
“But obviously in love.”
“Right? I was thinking the same thing. It was amazing that they were at the pool with their kids—are the kids theirs, or just hers?”
“Theirs. They’ve been married as long as I’ve known them. He was divorced at least once, but I’m pretty sure he’s her first husband.” He laughed. “I mean, not first, as if she’ll move on from him.”
Jaz was more than pretty sure. He’d done extensive research on the family.
He doubted anybody in the world knew as much about Magras as he did, and that included the DEA trying to bring him down.
Jaz had to know the guy’s history, his business, his associates, what made him tick.
His life depended on knowing where all the landmines were.
“I loved how they prioritize family time instead of hobnobbing at a party with all the who’s who on the island.”
“They get their fill of the rich and wannabe famous.”
Kenzie was doing a great job acting her part. She’d surprised him tonight, donning the “Simone” mask well.
She’d be a good partner.
The thought was a shock of cold air. As if he’d ever willingly suck anyone into the chaos and lies that had become his life.
The dark road curved along the coast, light of the quarter moon glinting off the water where it peeked through the scrubby trees. She shifted and tugged at the hem of her dress, her babble petering out.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
She barely glanced at the view. “Amazing.”
He checked the rearview mirror. No cars following.
Kenzie crossed her arms beside him, the only sign of her tension.
Three miles from the resort, he made a split-second decision.
“You know what?” He kept his voice light and playful. “I want to show you something.”
She faced him, brows furrowed. “Now?”
“You’ll love it, I promise.” He didn’t bother with the fake smile but let his tone suggest exactly what kind of “something” he had in mind.
She shook her head and focused on the road. “Great.” She made the word sound authentically enthusiastic. “Another adventure.” Okay, maybe that last had held a tinge of sarcasm. Hopefully, whoever was listening didn’t pick up on it.
He spotted the narrow turn-off he’d glimpsed driving this way before, barely visible in the darkness, and slowed the Porsche, tires crunching on the mix of gravel and sand as they left the main road.
If he cared about this car as he should, he wouldn’t drive paths like this.
But the car, like the rest of his possessions on this island, was a prop.
No streetlights illuminated this path, just his headlights cutting through dense vegetation on either side.
The track sloped downward, winding between thick tropical growth. When the car was far enough from the road not to be seen, he cut the engine. Silence enveloped them, enhanced by the sound of waves crashing in the distance.
“Come on.” He climbed out, then came around to her door, offering his hand. There were no cameras here. This wasn’t an act, just the manners his mother had taught him.
Kenzie accepted his help. As soon as her heels touched the sand, she wobbled. “One sec.” She yanked the shoes off and tossed them onto the passenger floor.
“Better?”
“Much.”
Shifting to hide his smile, he turned on his cell phone flashlight and followed a sandy path, moving slowly for her sake.
“Where are we going?” Her voice was so low it was almost lost beneath the growing sound of waves.
“You’ll see.”
The path curved among sea grape trees and scrubby palms. The air grew cooler as they neared the water. After about twenty yards, they emerged onto a small beach—more rocks than sand, with waves rolling in, their white foam visible in the moonlight.
They’d be safe here, for now.
Jaz released Kenzie’s hand, and she wandered toward the water as if her greatest desire was to swim away.
The area was empty, as he’d expected. This wasn’t exactly a tourist destination, and locals knew better places to find a private beach.
He gave her a few minutes of peace before joining her at the water’s edge. They were far enough from the car and close enough to the surf that, no matter how good the tech, no bug could catch what they said here. “Are you all right?”
“No. Not even a little.”
“We’re safe here.” Nobody had followed them out. Nobody had run them down. Which meant nobody had figured out who Kenzie was.
So far.
“How many people at that party work for Magras?”
“No idea. I’m not exactly his confidant, and he’s careful to keep the circles small. I know a few people, but only those who are involved with what he has me doing. It’s how he keeps himself and his operations safe.” And the reason Jaz had spent years trying—and so far failing—to take him down.
Magras was the small fish. El Fantasma—The Ghost—was the big fish, Jaz’s ultimate goal.
If he could figure out who The Ghost was, the DEA would protect him, get him out of this mess.
At least that was what they’d promised. Although living a life of lies among liars, he found it hard to believe anybody anymore.
“What if someone recognized me?”
If they had, Jaz doubted they’d have been allowed to drive away. “I’ll keep you out of sight as much as I can until I get the information I need, and then I’ll get you off this island and back where you’re safe.”
“I don’t have any information, and how will you keep me safe? It’s a small island, and—?”
“You’re going to have to trust me.”
She scoffed, and he smiled. He wasn’t great at trusting, either. Unfortunately for Kenzie, at the moment, she didn’t have another choice.
“Good thinking, by the way.” He softened his tone. “Acting like you were warm, giving us an excuse to get out of there.”
Surprise flickered across her face. “I wasn’t acting. It was probably nerves, but I felt like I was melting.”
“Well, it worked in our favor.” Even in the moonlight, even wearing that ridiculous blond wig, she was striking.
The way she held herself, the intelligence in her eyes—she was nothing like the vapid women he usually pretended to pursue.
“You did well back there. Really well. And picking up my cues in the car without being told.”
She shrugged. “Thanks.”
“I know it wasn’t easy.”
“I pretended I was Brooklynn, my bubbly and cheerful sister.”
“The one who reads Glamour magazine?”
“Probably not.” Kenzie looked toward the dark water. “Magras is a dangerous man. I could tell just in the way he looked at me, like he was trying to see through my skin.”
“You have good instincts.” Jaz moved closer, lowering his voice despite the crash of waves. “He’s always calculating. Always three steps ahead. That’s why he’s survived this long. That’s why I have to…”
End him. Take him down and take down everyone who works with him, including El Fantasma. He had to finish this.
“You work for him.” Not an accusation, just a statement.
“He thinks I do.”
“Why?”
“It’s…complicated.”