Chapter 20 #2
He filled her in on the progress or lack thereof. Jean Luc and Ned’s beach house basement had been empty. No sign of a hostage.
“So now everything depends on Jean Luc getting Ned to talk. While he has his Brazilian friends in town?”
“We figure that’ll play to our advantage,” Dane said.
“Chances are the Tavares brothers won’t like Ned having a hostage hanging around, much less a dead heiress.
Not while they’re the focal point of all this press.
I told Jean Luc we’ll have Captain Lynch give him an official call at the office later this evening to question him and Ned about Susan Whittier.
He said he can have everyone there for the show to put pressure on Ned. ”
“But if they’re holding her and she’s still alive, that would make her a liability.”
“Jean Luc says that Ned went along with his idea to keep her as insurance.” Dane kept his voice neutral when he continued, but he felt a nasty pinch of worry.
“They had the goons take our heiress after drugging drink at the same club where they tried to take Chauncey down. Ruse has no idea where they’ve kept her or where she is now.
He confessed that he was in on the setup, albeit under duress.
Said he was promised nothing would happen to Susan Whittier, but he never saw her again after that night. ”
“Seems our Mr. Ruse has been doing a lot of talking.” Her eyes shuttered.
“Something between you two?” It was his knee-jerk response.
She laughed at him. If he wasn’t so angry at himself—at her too for making him feel this way—he’d have blushed with embarrassment. Never mind that he hadn’t blushed since he’d started shaving.
“Seems Mr. Ruse had a few things to say after the knifing incident loosened his tongue,” Dane said through tight lips.
“You mean the knifing non-incident. Only my surfboard got stabbed. Which reminds me. If I’m on in less than an hour, I’ll need a new board.”
“It’s taken care of.”
She nodded. There was nothing left to say.
“Meet me back at my place after the last heat. We’ll watch Cap’s foray into the American Invitational Surfing Competition offices on closed circuit.”
“You have a closed-circuit system at your house?”
“I’m a pro, baby. Remember? Truth, justice and the American way. Guns or bust.”
She snorted and turned.
“I’ll be watching close and scoring. Put on a good show.”
Dane jogged back to his judge’s perch as the announcer blasted the time warning for everyone to be in their officially assigned places within five minutes. He checked the beach for any sign of Jean Luc and saw him heading his way in a small dune buggy. He was alone. Dane waved the man over.
“You talked to Ned yet?”
“No. I said I would have him and the Brazilians at the offices at 6:00 p.m. for your show of force. I’ll bring the matter of Ms. Whittier up then and see if I can get him to admit he has her and say where she is. Captain Lynch will plant the camera behind the surfboard?”
“Yes. He’s probably there as we speak. Play your part. You’ll have plenty of credibility after handling the Tamara incident without the police raiding the beach.”
“Ned isn’t happy that the police have her. I assured him she doesn’t know enough to get us in trouble—only wild unsubstantiated accusations and she has no credibility.”
“You’re sure she doesn’t know about Susan Whittier?”
“I am sure she does not. Of course we kept it from her. Ned wouldn’t want to spook her since she was our backup if Roger could ever get her straight enough to surf.”
“Damn it. She never overheard anything? If she knows anything it would help wrap this whole thing up before anything else can go wrong.” He didn’t like Shana still being out there where Ned had her in his sights.
Who knew what the Brazilians had in mind for her?
Check that. He knew exactly what they had in mind.
He knew the kind of men that Ned ran with.
He knew the kind of men the brothers were reputed to be.
Even if only half the intel was true it made Dane shudder to chance Shana coming into close contact with any of them.
“I’m worried about her too,” Jean Luc said in response to his introspection. Dane knew he was talking about Shana and not Tamara.
Jean Luc drove the dune buggy to Dane’s judging station. Ned watched from above. Dane knew Ned would visit with him once he climbed up to his station and he was right.
Taking his seat and picking up his binoculars, Dane decided that ignoring the man’s death stare was the best policy.
“You’re soft.”
“You’re not talking to me, are you?” Dane lowered his binoculars to stare back at Ned, who stood at eye level while Dane sat on his elevated chair.
“I told you to stay away from Shana.”
“Curiosity got the better of me. I had to see for myself that she was okay after your crazy surfer caddy nearly stabbed her.” Dane lifted the binoculars back up to his eyes and aimed at the surfers’ marshalling area to find Shana. Watching her calmed.
“I know you brought her to your beach house and stayed together last night.”
“Yeah. So? What are you going to do about it?” He kept his lens trained to her body and watched the long line of her strong legs as she walked in the sand toward the water with her board in one arm.
“You like the mark too much. You care too much. That’s dangerous,” Ned said. He snapped his fingers. “I can make something bad happen just like that.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Ned.”
“Not to you. To her. I can bring down a world of bad.”
Dane lowered his binoculars, slowly, while his blood simmered and he gathered his temper. “You’re forgetting about that song, Ned. The one about Leroy Brown, the baddest man in the whole damn town?”
“If you were anyone, I woulda heard of you.”
“That’s the point, Ned. You have no idea who I am.” Dane raised his binoculars again. “Keep that in mind.” He kept his gaze steady while Ned turned and walked away with a nervous chuckle.
Tonight’s escapade had better work. Dane wasn’t sure how long he could keep Ned guessing before he guessed right that he was dealing with law enforcement, albeit indirectly.
Once Ned left, Dane kept his eyes on Shana while she paddled out to the waves.
It took her less than a minute to catch a good-sized swell and a few seconds more for her to pop to a stand and glide parallel to the shore along the smooth inside wall of the five feet of glassy water.
Her form was perfect as she carved and damn if she didn’t lay a massive spray of ocean in the direction of the shore for the TV cameras, water photographers and judges—and the spectators cheered their appreciation while the announcer called out her moves.
Gliding to a smooth ending toward the shore she dropped and swam with her board off to the side and out of the way of the next competitor.
Dane dropped his binoculars and picked up his phone, pressing Captain Lynch’s number. “Get in the office and set up the camera. It won’t be long. Jean Luc will get all the players together.”
“Any special location?”
“Yeah. The yellow surfboard hanging on the center of the wall to the left when you walk in the door. He’ll stage it.”
“How’s Shana?”
“Like gold. We’ll be watching the show from the shack. Stop by afterwards.” Dane ended the call.
Shana dragged herself back to the competitors’ area and the outdoor showers to rinse off before heading to the tent.
She was finished competing for the day and there was no way she was hanging around for any further strange encounters.
It would have been a great plan if a man with a microphone and a TV camera with the ESPN logo hadn’t rushed toward her before she got to the tent.
Searching the area for Dane or Chauncey—or even Jean Luc—to rescue her from the one situation she truly needed rescuing from, she saw no one and the man reached her.
“Shana—”
She ducked inside the first dressing room door she found, shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Her heart beat fast and exhaustion drained her of the ability to move as the adrenaline receded from her system.
One thought was left on her mind. Dane. What would she do about him? How did she feel about him?
And what did it matter?
Dressed and carrying her beat-up board, Shana walked toward the parking lot where Chauncey pulled up in his wide-open Jeep to chauffeur her God only knew where.
“I hope there’s a bed waiting wherever you’re taking me,” she said after tossing the board in back and hauling herself onto the front passenger seat of the doorless vehicle.
“I’m flattered, but I’m a married man after all.” He grinned. She laughed.
“I’ll let Dane know of your request.”
“Don’t do me any favors. I need a nap. Any chance there’ll be time before the sting?”
“Maybe ten minutes. I’ll step on it.”
She hesitated only a second, realizing there was no need for pretense with Chauncey. “Where is Dane?”
“He’s on his way. He managed to escape Ned’s notice after being tracked all day. Jean Luc proved to be helpful there.”
“Yeah. He’s been all kinds of help today.”
“In every way except the one way we needed. He didn’t manage to get the desired information from Ned about Susan Whittier.”
“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that. Ned is a paranoid and mean bastard. He’s dangerous and he doesn’t trust Jean Luc. Not that he should.”
They turned onto Dane’s street and his beach shack was in sight when Chauncey asked. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. Not a scratch. The wild woman had lousy aim.” She looked at him and saw his frown and realized that’s not what he was asking about.
“I know you’ve developed a … relationship with Dane. Not that it’s any of my business. But we are here on business after all. So I’m asking if you’re all right—if everything between you two is all right enough to continue. We can call it off—have you withdraw at any moment—”