Read Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1) Online
Authors: Rachel Woods
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the truth. Had Richard threatened Moana? Had his father arranged to have his ex-fiancée killed? The answers to those questions would be a burden, and Sione wasn’t sure he wanted to bear it.
San Ignacio, Belize
Belizean Banyan Resort – Honeymoon Casita
Around eight the next morning, Spencer walked into the bathroom, stripping as she headed for the shower. In her head was a whimsical little tune, something John’s little cousins had been singing when they tried to show her how to do a samba. The trio of little sprites were so cute, and thinking about them made her think of herself at their age, around six or seven years old. When life was carefree and she didn’t have to worry about the consequences of her stupid decisions and foolish mistakes. Well, she supposed things weren’t exactly carefree when she was seven.
There had been times when she didn’t have to worry, mostly during the summer months, when she was shipped off to live with her grandparents. Back then, every day was spent with her favorite cousins, Rusty and Jennifer, getting into “devilment,” as her grandfather called their playful mischief, making mud pies, “playing school,” and just being wild and happy and free.
Of course, at the end of summer, there were always bitter tears. She’d sobbed because she had to go back home, back to her mother, back to staying as quiet as possible, back to wondering if she would go to bed hungry, and back to the fear of being kicked and scratched and then left alone to fend for herself—just her and her tears and the pain of wounds, both emotional and physical, that never seemed to heal.
Standing beneath the showerhead, Spencer allowed the hot water to wash away the sadness of her childhood, and as she lathered the honey-and-lavender soap over her skin, she forced herself to remember the fun she’d had with John’s little second cousins. All the laughter and the games had made her feel content, settled, and she’d enjoyed it.
With no children of her own, Spencer had always figured she wouldn’t know what to do with herself around kids. She always thought she’d be uncomfortable and stiff. She actually liked playing with the girls. They were a surprising amusement. And yet, it was bittersweet. She’d started to wonder what it might be like to have a family of her own and children to love and spoil, ridiculous fantasies she couldn’t afford to indulge in.
Spencer turned the water off, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel. Back in the bedroom, she opened the top dresser drawer and pulled out a bra and panties. Laughing a little, she smiled to herself and remembered how the little girls had left John exhausted. She put on the bra and underwear.
John would probably make a good father to three little fairies of his own one day. The thought made her pause and gave her conflicting emotions she didn’t want to acknowledge or deal with. It would mean he’d found someone to be Mrs. Tuiali’i.
Some very lucky woman who wouldn’t be her. The thought bothered her, though it shouldn’t have. Spencer didn’t even want to get married. If there was ever a man who could turn her into “that wife,”, it was probably Sione “John” Tuiali’i. She could imagine herself very submissive in his presence, following all of his dictates, no matter how degrading or debilitating.
The phone rang. Confused by the ringing, it took Spencer a few moments to realize it wasn’t her cell phone and it wasn’t—thank God—the burner phone Ben had given her. It was the casita phone on the bed table.
Spencer went to answer it, wondering who the hell could be calling. The front desk, maybe? Probably the idiot desk assistant, Analee, calling to deliver a wake-up call Spencer hadn’t requested.
“Hello?”
“Spencer?” A terse, tense female voice said. “It’s Maxine Porter.”
Puzzled, Spencer sat on the edge of the bed. “Maxine Porter?”
“You delivered the prescription medication to me a few days ago?”
“Oh, yeah, right,” Spencer said, her stomach twisting with a twinge of dread. “Hi, how are you?”
“I need to see you,” Maxine said. “Today. This morning. It’s really important.”
“Why do you need to see me?”
“We have a problem,” Maxine said.
“What kind of problem?”
“Not over the phone,” Maxine said, her tone clipped and curt. “I need to see you in person.”
Annoyed, Spencer said, “Listen, I don’t have time to—”
“No, you listen,” Maxine said. “If you want to leave Belize alive, then you need to meet me.”
Pulse racing, Spencer sank down on the bed, not sure how to respond. The woman was being melodramatic, probably trying to scare her. Spencer wanted to tell her to go to hell and then slam the phone down. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea, though. Maybe she needed to find out about this problem because she absolutely wanted to leave Belize alive.
Finally, Spencer said, “Okay, fine. Where do you want me to meet you? At the boutique?”
“I’m not working today,” Maxine said. “You can come to my place.”
“Your place?” Dozens of clanging warning bells went off within Spencer. “Why can’t we meet in public?”
“We can’t talk about this in public,” Maxine said.
Trying to ignore the internal warnings, Spencer said, “Fine. Give me your address.”
San Ignacio, Belize
Belizean Banyan Resort – Manager’s Office
Sitting in his office, Sione stared at the employment applications he’d received for the Pool Assistant position. He’d planned to spend the morning reviewing resumes, but he couldn’t focus. For the past few days, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Moana’s death and the role his father might have played in it. The situation with Ms. Edwards consumed his thoughts as well. Sione wasn’t convinced she was running a scam, but he wasn’t sure she was clueless and innocent either.
Feeling the need to make some sort of judgment on the situation, Sione wanted to clarify his position. But he wasn’t sure of the best way to do that. Should his opinion be based on gut instinct or logic? A rational approach would be best, he decided, based on facts, not wild speculation.
Abandoning the employment applications, Sione opened the pencil drawer, looking for the blue folder D.J. had given him. The file contained the printed version of the PowerPoint presentation including all the photos his cousin had snapped of Ms. Edwards. Photographic evidence of … Sione wasn’t sure what. Not necessarily a crime being committed, but definitely something suspicious.
After a few minutes, he gave up the search, remembering that the blue folder was in his casita office. Sione leaned back in his chair, a bit disappointed. The photos would jog his memory and help nail down the facts, but that wasn’t the only reason he’d wanted to look at them. He’d really just wanted a legitimate excuse to enjoy several photos of a good-looking woman. Because the photos had been taken without her consent, Sione felt a little weird looking at them simply for personal enjoyment.
Even without the pictures, he was aware of the facts. But from those facts, what could be deduced? Nothing definitive. Only speculation.
He wasn’t even sure what had been inside those beach bags Ms. Edwards had taken on her excursions to the Mayan ruins and the cave tour. He couldn’t assume she’d stuffed the bags with the Xanax boxes filled with fake passports and money. There was no proof to support D.J.’s assumptions she was involved in something criminal.
Marie buzzed. “D.J. is on two.”
Sione grabbed the phone. “What’s going on?”
“Ms. Edwards is leaving the resort,” D.J. said. “I have it on good authority—said authority being Analee, who agreed to give me a heads-up about Ms. Edwards’ comings and goings—that she called for a cab and asked about a ferry to San Pedro.”
“You going to follow her?”
“That’s why I called you,” D.J. said and then exhaled. “I have a call I have to take, so I was hoping you could get things started, and I’ll pick up the slack as soon as I can.”
Sione gripped the phone. “You think she’s going to make another delivery?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure,” D.J. said. “But, if so, one of us needs to be there. So don’t lose her. And do not let her catch you following her.”
San Pedro, Belize
Ambergris Caye
Clutching her stomach, Spencer swallowed, praying she wouldn’t get sick as the water taxi sped through the Caribbean, hitting waves and jostling her up and down and side to side. The motor was a buzzing roar, making it nearly impossible to think.
Impossible to figure out what Maxine had meant when she’d said we have a problem. What the hell kind of problem? With the money, maybe? Maybe Maxine Porter hadn’t received the correct amount of money she’d been promised.
Spencer thought back to the freckle-faced tomboy who’d held a gun on her.
Had Maxine counted her money and realized she’d been shorted?
Salty sea spray came into the open-air boat, teaming with the wind to make a mess of the chignon she’d barely been able to twist her hair into. Shivering, Spencer reached into her purse and grabbed the slip of paper she’d written Maxine Porter’s address on.
Estrella Estates. #309
. A condo on the far northern end of Ambergris Caye, the woman had told her.
Staring at the foamy wake of the boat, Spencer wondered if maybe there was a problem with the passport. Or maybe the problem was with Ben? Or maybe it was something worse than she could imagine.
If you want to leave Belize alive.
Clasping her hands together, Spencer looked down at the canvas shoes she’d chosen to wear, along with khaki shorts and a camouflage print tank. She had a habit of dressing for her audience, which tended to be men, old jackasses who liked curves and lots of unabashed cleavage. Meeting a woman she hardly knew to deal with a situation she hardly understood didn’t require her usual clingy dresses and heels.
Although, a six-inch stiletto might come in handy if Maxine got belligerent and tried to start a physical altercation.
As the shoreline of Ambergris Caye came into view, Spencer stared at the beach and the palm trees swaying in the breeze, remembering the day she and John had gone to San Pedro. She would never admit it, but as they’d walked along the beach, she’d felt like a new bride with her husband, and she’d wondered if any of the other tourists staring at them had come to the same conclusion. Secretly, for some reason, she hoped they had.
Foolish thoughts, Spencer knew. But why? Was she starting to like the idea of getting too close to the resort owner?
Each time she talked to her sisters, they never failed to question her interest in John. Usually, Spencer ignored their blatant insinuations or dodged and evaded their inquiries. She was afraid of the answer, afraid she might be interested in the resort owner. As the ferry pulled over to the dock, she forced herself to forget about John. Right now, she had to deal with Maxine Porter.
San Pedro, Belize
Ambergris Caye
As soon as the captain steered the water taxi to the edge of the pier, Sione was on his feet, climbing out of the boat.
Passengers were still unloading from the ferry docked in front of the water taxi. One of them was Ms. Edwards, who allowed a smiling deckhand to offer her assistance as she made her way down a set of portable plastic steps and onto the wooden pier. As she headed toward the end of the dock, the deckhands watched her walk away, no doubt glad to see her go.
Walking along the weather-beaten planks, Sione made sure to keep Ms. Edwards in sight and enjoyed the view, as well. She was dressed in shorts, a camouflage sleeveless tank top, and canvas shoes, yet she still managed to look extra sexy. Sione was used to seeing her in body-defining dresses with dangerous plunging necklines, and he wondered if there was some specific reason for the casual attire. Was she anticipating a situation where she might have to get away quick or run for her life? Sione hoped not, but if the circumstances went sideways, he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to her.
He was still upset about the Asian guy who’d broken into the honeymoon casita and attacked her. When he’d seen the bastard on top of Ms. Edwards, trying to tie her hands behind her back, Sione had wanted to tear something apart.
He’d felt a familiar instinct growing within him, the anger that went beyond indignation, the rage that went too far, demanding a violent reaction, a need to both defend and avenge. Sione had fought to keep the anger in check. He’d tried to remember he wasn’t that person anymore. He didn’t have to indulge in the anger and let the negative emotions control him, or dictate his actions, the way he’d been taught to do. But he’d never been the type to just sit on his ass and do nothing. The bruised knuckles hadn’t exactly been appreciated, but he didn’t feel too bad about beating the crap out of some son of a bitch who clearly deserved it.
As Sione made his way onto the beach, following a cluster of elderly tourists, he donned a baseball cap and sunglasses, trying to disguise himself. Ms. Edwards still might recognize him if she decided to look over her shoulder. Better keep a bit of distance between them, he decided. Maybe ten to fifteen feet.
Sione weaved through tourists and then stopped between two palm trees as Ms. Edwards walked down a narrow alley between a restaurant and a hotel. She was headed west, toward Front Street. He figured the main road through San Pedro would be her destination.
Scanning the alley, he realized there weren’t enough people traversing the narrow passageway to follow directly behind her. If she turned, there would be no crowd where he could blend into or get lost in. Taking a chance, he decided to take a different route to Front Street, confident he would spot her once he got to the main road.
Angling toward a beachfront hotel, he took the stairs two at a time and then followed the veranda around to the back of the hotel, where stairs led down to Front Street. Even at ten in the morning, the main drag was cluttered and clogged with tourists, locals, and listless dogs, meandering aimlessly along the road.
D.J. had told him not to lose her, but Sione figured it would be impossible to lose sight of Ms. Edwards, even if he allowed her to get even farther ahead. And he was right. Those curves were like a tracking device, and he followed her sexy sway as she crossed the road and stepped up onto the sidewalk.