Chapter 9 #2
She turned to him. Her eyes were heavy, her makeup smeared, her hair loose in its natural wild state, but what broke his heart was the absence of her killer smile or even her endearing scowl.
She had no spark. The tightening in his chest was automatic no matter how deep he breathed in the fog of salty air.
He reached over with one hand and claimed a thick strand of her unruly curls and twirled the strand, tugging lightly.
“It’ll work out, Shana. I guarantee it. One way or another.”
She smiled and nodded. “You know the only acceptable way is for us to find the jewels and see Angelica Dubois thrown in jail. The other way won’t do.”
He understood exactly what she meant, but he didn’t bother arguing with her. She’d see it his way on another day when she wasn’t so tired and defeated, when her spark came back with a burst of fireworks.
Then his treacherous mind took another turn on how he’d like to ignite her.
But he slammed the door shut as if putting the notion of making love to Shana into prison.
That’s exactly what he’d need to do—for a time—in order to work this case out the way she wanted it—the way they wanted it.
With the jewels in hand, the perpetrators in jail and their client’s fat fee in Shana’s bank account.
Dane sighed and if he hadn’t been driving, he’d have closed his eyes. As it was, they’d arrived in Edgartown. He pulled up to the curb on the main street. It was early yet. The shops were closed and no vacationers strolled the walks.
The car stopped and, out of nowhere, in a suspicious tone bordering on accusation, Shana said, “I never told you how much money they won.”
This was dangerous territory. Dane adopted an offhand look and said, “I assumed it was plenty—enough to afford a hotel. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point—they’re my family and I want to spend time with them.”
He heard the unspoken “and not with you.” It could have been his paranoia or neurosis, ailments he’d never had before he met Shana the damned Beautiful.
The sun was coming up and the heat with it. He wished they could have driven home to the beach shack.
“What are we doing here? What are you thinking?” Shana said.
“Call Cap and get the address where Bellarine is staying.”
“What makes you sure Cap has the address?” Shana said as she dialed.
“That was his number one priority—as soon as I called him with Bellarine’s name. What’s going on with you?” Dane was troubled by her distracted state. It was not normal for Shana on the job.
She waved her hand at him and said, “Nothing a strong cup of coffee won’t cure.” Then she spoke into the phone with Cap and signed off once she got Bellarine’s location.
“You were right,” she said. “Cap knew. Bellarine is staying at the Sea Breeze Inn. I bet Angelique is staying there too.”
“I bet she’s not.”
“What are the stakes? You can’t be right all the time.”
“You’re living dangerously now, girlie. You know the stakes. Same as they always are—same as they always will be.” He aimed his unguarded lustful stare in her direction and said, “You.”
“Great—but what do I get when I win the bet?”
He laughed. It felt good. Until he pulled up in front of the Sea Breeze Inn.
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh no you don’t—I’m with you on this. You keep forgetting we’re partners.”
“Suit yourself. But what will you tell him? What’s your reason for knocking on his door?”
“Same as yours.”
He raised a brow and gave her the smuggest look he could come up with.
They both got out of the Jag and walked in the front door.
Truth was he had no idea what he was going to say—whether he’d confess to his role as investigator or make up something else.
In the end, he realized he had no choice but to play it straight.
Dane had to assume the man knew of him or had heard of him.
Even at the gala there’d been talk. Too much talk.
His Vineyard Haven was beginning to feel less like a haven and more like an unwelcome fishbowl.
But he reminded himself that would change in September.
A lot could change in September. He glanced at Shana, who kept with him stride for stride as they walked through the lobby of the Inn and straight to the woman at the desk. Then he wiped September from his mind like a swipe of an eraser across a chalkboard.
“Bellarine’s room,” he said.
“Hello, Dane.” The woman paused a beat, gave him a considering look and said, “Number fourteen. Down that hall, up one flight, and on the left.”
“Thanks, Susie.”
“Am I going to get into trouble?”
“Not with me,” he smiled. That went better than he’d hoped. The last time he’d seen Susie he’d told her he’d call her “tomorrow.” That had been over a year ago. The day before Shana George had landed on the island, to be exact.
Susie smiled at him and then she smiled at Shana too. He’d liked the thirty-something redhead. She had spunk and a good heart. He would have called her. If Shana hadn’t showed up. And derailed his life.
“One more favor—do you have an Angelique Dubois registered here?”
She gave him a resigned look, checked her screen while tapping on some keys and then shook her head. No such luck.
He caught up with Shana in two strides and they walked shoulder to shoulder to the elevator. Shana pressed the up button and then they headed for the stairs.
“I’ll do the talking,” she said without looking at him. She didn’t try to outpace him, not even after they entered the stairwell and she held the door for him.
“It’s your case.” He didn’t mind. He didn’t have any angles besides brute force and intimidation, which admittedly would likely get them nowhere if this guy was a con. Or worse, if he were involved with the Tavares family. They marched up the stairs in silence.
He stayed with her rather than fall behind.
Something pushed him to be more protective of her than usual.
Instinct. Or more likely the gut fear inspired by the possibility of a Tavares connection, no matter how remote.
In his mind’s eye he saw Shana chained to the floor in the cell in Rio and he remembered the bruise along her jaw and left cheek as vividly as if it were now.
He glanced at her when they reached the second-floor landing.
She looked sure and unbothered by the specter of Bellarine being with Tavares.
He was being an idiot to imagine it, based only on the fact that he spoke Portuguese on the phone to someone.
But he’d never taken coincidences lightly and he wasn’t now.
He slipped his Glock from the shoulder holster while Shana nudged the door open and took a quick look at the hallway. She stepped forward and he followed.
They stepped into the hall. He was right behind her. Bellarine’s door was within sight, three doors down. Dane went ahead of Shana and stood on the left of the door while she stood slightly to the right, out of sight of the peephole. They both stood still and listened for thirty seconds.
The din of the television came through. Nothing else. No shower, no live person talking, no snoring. Then he watched Shana heave a breath, her chest expanding under the shimmering turquoise of her dress, the swell of her breasts prominent and enticing. Dane moved closer.
Shana stood directly in front of the peephole and rapped on the door, not hard, but loud enough for a person half asleep to hear.
No one answered. They tried several more times and after four minutes of rapping and intent listening, Dane decided Bellarine wasn’t home. He also decided that made it a good time to have a visit.
He took a handy tool from his pocket and slipped it into the card reader.
“Are you sure you should be using that—”
“That’s the beauty of not being official law enforcement. I can.” He clicked the handle down and pushed the door open. Motioning for Shana to go ahead he checked the hall to make sure they hadn’t been seen and closed the door behind them.
“Don’t just stand there. Search the place.”
Shana remained standing with both hands on her hips and her feet spread.
The power pose was only slightly mitigated by the fact that her dress covered only the top half of her thighs and about one-third of her breasts and that she wore a couple of straps on four-inch spikes for shoes.
In fact, he didn’t even know how she was still standing.
She gave him a long hard squinting look, then she spun and started with the bed.
Because the room and the bath were small, it took them only fifteen minutes to cover the entire area, inside out and upside down.
He’d checked the plumbing under the bathroom sink using his toolkit and she’d made a small slit in each side of the mattress to check inside, but they’d carefully put everything back in place when they finished.
Surveying the room, he said, “Good work. Too bad we didn’t find anything. Any ideas?”
“Angelique’s room.”
“Let’s check for a rental car—one of them must have one somewhere.”
“Sure. You think Bellarine left the island?”
“Possibly,” he said then cracked open the door to check the corridor before they left the room. He didn’t speak again until they were back outside.
“I think Bellarine is still around. Maybe he has another room—under a different name—where he’s stashing their stolen jewels. Or the jewels could be stashed in a car somewhere,” Shana said.
“That’s what we’re checking out next.” Dane opened Shana’s door, partly because she was dressed for a night out and partly because the Jag demanded a certain amount of decorum. Either way, he enjoyed the suppressed smile the gesture won from her.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said. He got in the driver’s side and she was still scoffing.
“Why not check out Angelique? Make sure she’s still on the island at least.”
“She’s still here. We’re looking for the jewels more or less to eliminate the possibilities. Because I’m fairly certain she has them. Somewhere.”
“Bellarine—if he’s her accomplice—may have hidden the jewels. You don’t know Angelique has the jewels.”
“Oh yes I do.”
“Now who’s jumping to conclusions?”
“Her or her accomplice. Same difference. I did my homework and came to a well-considered and well-reasoned conclusion. She’s here for some reason beyond the jewels. She has an agenda we don’t know about.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You said it yourself—she’s been taunting us all along. She had no jewelry on. She came in the back door tonight and spoke to no one but me.”
“So? Her accomplice came separately.”
“She knew we were coming here tonight so she made it a point to be at that soirée.”
“And?”
Damned if Shana wasn’t getting good at reading him. He might as well tell her about catching Angelique’s hand in the cookie jar, so-to-speak. He kept the mild look on his face, not giving away the spurt of excitement he felt.
He said, “And… Angelique sabotaged my earpiece tonight.”