Making Waves (19 page)

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Authors: Tawna Fenske

BOOK: Making Waves
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“Ballsy,” Juli muttered appreciatively. “Almost as ballsy as trying to rob a cargo boat owned by the largest shipping company in the world. A company that happens to be your former employer?”

Alex winced. “I was hoping maybe you missed that part.”

“I don’t miss much,” Juli said. “So you were a VP for Kranston?”

“Can we not talk about this?”

She laughed. “You guys did a pretty good job hiding the details from me, but I figured it was something like that. Did you work for Kranston long?”

“Really, let’s talk about something else.”

“You know the owner well?”

“Here we are at the restaurant,” Alex said. He stopped and held the door open for her. “So sorry we won’t be able to continue the conversation. Would you like a booth or a table?”

Juli rolled her eyes. “I’d like the bathroom, right now. Order for me, okay?”

“What do you want?” he shouted at her retreating back.

“Everything,” she shouted back. “In the biggest quantities I can get it.”

Alex watched her disappear down a darkened hallway, admiring the curve of her hips. He’d probably have to talk with her about the Kranston thing, but not yet. Not until they both had some food in them and their heads on straight.

He surveyed the dimly lit room in search of an empty table. He found a nice booth in the back corner and ambled over to it, grabbing a menu from the counter on his way.

“Someone will be right over to get your order, hon,” called a waitress with a gravelly voice and a giant snake tattoo on her arm. “Need anything to drink?”

“Two waters for now, thanks,” Alex said as he dropped into the booth.

He studied the menu for a second, watching for Juli out of the corner of his eye. Funny how quickly she’d gone from an inconvenient distraction to someone who laid claim to at least one out of every three thoughts he had. And he’d known her only four days.

True, there’d been a marriage in there, and a pirate heist, and some of the hottest near-miss hookups in his entire life—just the things to bond two people together. And now they would spend the better part of a night together alone in a hotel room.

He wasn’t sure what to think of that.

Of course, at the moment, he really shouldn’t think about that at all. This mission was far from over. They still had to get back to the cargo ship. They still had to figure out what happened to the diamonds—if they ever existed at all. He was still broke, still unemployed, still a total loser.

Just like Jenny said you’d be.

Not to mention he was falling hard for a woman he wasn’t sure he trusted. He wanted to trust her—
God knows he did
—but something was holding him back. What was it about Juli? Okay, so there hadn’t been anything nefarious in the urn. She still hadn’t told him about her mobster uncle and had only shared the genius thing under duress. What else was she hiding?

A waitress wandered over, order pad in hand, and Alex set his menu down.

“I’d like everything on the appetizer menu, to start with,” Alex said. “We’ll get back to you on the rest.”

The waitress frowned. “Everything? There are ten items. You’re expecting a large group?”

“My friend likes food. A lot.”

“I see,” the woman said, and scribbled something on her notepad.

Alex stood up. “Can you tell me where the restrooms are?”

“Down that hall, out the back door, in the little alley right outside the restaurant. Men’s room is the second one on the left. The one without a door.”

“Thanks,” Alex said. “If you see a cute blonde wandering around, point her to this table and give her some crackers or something. Otherwise, she may start eating furniture.”

The waitress nodded, and Alex made his way down the hall and out the back door. He smiled a little to himself as he heard Juli’s perky soprano coming from the women’s room, humming an off-key version of Jimmy Buffet’s “Cheeseburger in Paradise.”

Alex stepped into the men’s room and froze. The hair on his arms stood on end.

A pistol was pointed straight at his chest.

And holding it was his old boss, Tom Portelli.

“Hello, Alex,” Tom said, flashing a familiar smile as he leveled the gun at him. “Good to see you again, son. I hear you tried to rob my fucking boat.”

Alex closed his eyes and raised his hands over his head.

Next door, the humming went on undaunted.

Chapter 16

“Come in real slowly and close the door behind you,” Tom said, holding the pistol at Alex’s chest.

A light Caribbean breeze ruffled Tom Portelli’s white hair, giving him the comical look of a man with wings on the side of his head.

It was the only thing comical about the moment.

“There’s no door, Tom,” Alex replied, keeping his voice even. “Would you like to try the women’s room? I’m sure there’s plenty of privacy there.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Don’t get smart with me, boy. Move in here where I can see you. Over there, next to the urinals. And don’t try anything stupid.”

“May I pee?”

Tom frowned, clearly unsure whether that was allowed in a hostage situation. Alex didn’t wait for a response, though his mind was racing a million miles an hour. He’d stood shoulder to shoulder with the man at countless board meetings and company urinals for twenty years. Somehow, this wasn’t how he’d pictured the future of this business relationship.

Alex unzipped as Tom angled away from the door, ensuring no passersby would have a glimpse of any of the proceedings inside the cramped space.

Alex glanced over at him, hoping like hell Juli had found her way safely to the table and was peacefully devouring her onion rings. He couldn’t hear her humming anymore, so the odds were good.

Then he froze. Juli?

She couldn’t be behind this. But she had picked the restaurant, and now here he was with a gun pointed at his back—

Tom leaned casually against the wall as though he pointed pistols at pissing men on a daily basis. “So Alex,” he began. “I was wondering where you and the rest of the gang had gone after the layoff. Seemed like you just dropped off the face of the earth. Now I know. Sounds like Cody shared a few choice details with my boys from the cargo ship.”

Alex swallowed his thoughts of Juli and zipped up his fly. He turned to face Tom with his heart slamming hard against his rib cage. “What is it you think you know, Tom?” he asked, wondering what would happen if he went for the gun tucked under his shirt in the back of his pants.

A shootout in a Caribbean bathroom
, he thought grimly.
What a way to go.

“What I think is that you tried to fuck me over,” Tom snarled. “I don’t appreciate that.”

“No? I didn’t particularly appreciate losing the pension I’d spent twenty years building. Call it even.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s my goddamn boat, Alex?”

He laughed. “Not here. In case your boys left out a few details in their telling of the tale, someone else beat us to the punch.”

“I know it’s in Barbados. ShipSafe alerted me, of course, and my crew told me about the hijacking. I was merely hoping you’d cooperate in helping me get it back. Now that I see you’re not in a cooperative mood, I’m frankly more interested in revenge.”

Alex took a step back as Tom straightened his arm, leveling the gun. Alex felt everything in his body tense as the breath left his lungs.

There was no choice.

In one quick motion, Alex slid a hand to his back, reaching for the pistol. His heart was hammering loudly in his ears.

Or was that footsteps?

“Hey, there! How’s it going?”

Both men whirled around and stared. There in the doorway, with her blonde curls fluttering around her ears and an angelic smile on her face, was Juli.

She stuck her hands in her back pockets and grinned into the men’s room, leaning back a little. Her cheeks were rosy in the moonlight, and her expression was one of unfathomable perkiness. Alex felt his heart twist in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak—to tell her to get the hell out of there, to ask her if she had something to do with this—but Juli beat him to the punch.

“Tom! I haven’t seen you for ages,” she chirped. “How are you? How’s Ginny and Fran?”

There was a moment of silence as Alex stood there dumbfounded, his fingers frozen on the handle of his pistol. He didn’t speak. He didn’t breathe. He stared at Tom’s profile, wondering what the hell was going on.

Tom blinked at Juli. Then blinked again. His eyes closed for an extra half second, like he hoped she might be gone when he opened them again.

Then he cleared his throat. “Ju-Ju,” Tom said. “My God, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know. Working on my tan, doing some sightseeing, relaxing on the beach, tossing Uncle Frank’s remains into the ocean.”

Tom swallowed, his gun still trained on Alex’s chest, his torso turned toward Juli.

Juli, for her part, was doing a damn fine job of pretending not to see the gun.

Shit
, Alex realized suddenly. She really
couldn’t
see it. She couldn’t see
him
. From where she was standing in the alley, she could probably see only the first couple feet of the men’s room and the first couple feet of the women’s room. She couldn’t see him at all. Alex closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Maybe that was best. Assuming she hadn’t set this whole thing up, she might just go quietly without trying to be the hero, without getting hurt.

But how the hell did she know Tom Portelli?

“I was so sorry to hear about Frankie,” Tom continued solemnly, taking a step to the left, ensuring he completely blocked Juli’s view into the restroom. “You know Frank’s been like a brother to me all these years.”

“I know,” Juli said, her voice perfectly angelic. “We were all really heartbroken, but it was just his time.”

“He led a good life, honey.”

“You’re so right. You know, he spoke fondly of you there at the end.”

“Did he? That’s so nice to hear. Tell you what, pumpkin. Why don’t you head inside and grab a table. I just need to, um, finish up in here, and then I’d love to sit down and visit with you. Hear about the funeral and everything. Are you here vacationing with someone, or all alone?”

“All alone,” she said. “I’d love the company.”

Alex frowned.

“I’m so glad, sweetie. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Sure thing, Tom. Don’t forget to wash your hands, okay?”

Tom smiled, looking relieved. “Okay, honeybunch. I’ll be right there.”

“Great,” she said. “Oh, and Tom?”

“Yes, lollypop?”

“Uncle Frank really did talk about you on his deathbed. In fact, he talked a lot.”

Tom’s face went a little pale. “You don’t say?”

“In fact, he told me every little detail about the heroin ring you’ve been running together for the last fifteen years. A perfect partnership—a mobster and the owner of an international shipping company. What a great team! And you guys made a pretty nice profit. At least, that’s what Uncle Frank said. He gave me spreadsheets and everything.”

“Did he, now?” Tom said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Yes. As a matter-of-fact, he had quite a lot of documentation that he included in his memoirs. Did I mention that I’m the executor of his estate? A friend of mine at a publishing company in New York City was really excited when I handed it all over to her just last week. Have they not been in touch with you about it yet?”

Tom stared at Juli.

Alex stared at Tom.

Tom turned and looked at Alex.

Suddenly, he whipped the pistol around and pointed it at Juli.

Alex raised his own pistol, taking aim at the side of Tom’s head.

Outside in the alley, Juli rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Oh, please, Tom. The book is already at the publisher, so killing me won’t do you any good. And if you shoot me, these four FBI agents standing right here in the women’s room will not look too kindly upon it. They’d like to have a word with you, actually. They were really interested when I called them right after I heard your plane would be landing here on St. Lucia today.”

“You’re bluffing,” Tom said. “There are no FBI agents in the women’s room.”

Juli leaned back, craning her neck to the right to yell into the women’s restroom. “Hey, guys?”

“Yes, ma’am?” called a gravelly voice from the other side of the wall.

“Can you tell this jerkoff that he probably shouldn’t shoot anyone right now?”

“Sir, you probably shouldn’t shoot anyone right now,” the voice shouted. “We would take that amiss.”

“Very amiss,” another voice agreed.

“And we would be inclined to shoot you, sir,” piped a third voice. “Really hard.”

“So you see,” Juli said, turning back to Tom, “you may want to put the gun down and step out with your hands up. Because I’m looking at you, and I’m looking at them, and I’ve gotta say—their guns are a lot bigger than yours.”

Alex watched Tom’s face in profile—watched him go from anger to indignation to bluster and finally, defeat. The whole time, Alex held his pistol ready, waiting.

“Fine,” Tom said, stepping out into the alley and bending slowly forward to set the gun on the ground at Juli’s feet. He looked up at her and lifted his hands into the air. “I want my lawyer,” he snarled. “Right now! Bantam and Royal Law Group, same as Frankie always used. Get them right now, dammit.”

“Sure thing, Tom,” Juli said, stooping down to retrieve the gun, handling it like a pro. Alex started to tell her not to—that the FBI would want it as evidence.

That’s when he noticed the four FBI officers were not rushing from the restroom to cuff Tom Portelli. They weren’t barking orders over radios or whisking Juli to safety. In fact, they were peculiarly silent on the other side of the wall.

Fuck me
, Alex thought, shaking his head as he yanked off his belt before tucking his pistol back in his pants. Stepping up to his former boss, he gave Tom a nudge with his knee and jerked his ex-boss’s arms behind his back.

Juli fluttered a wave at Alex, keeping the gun trained on Portelli’s head.

“Hi, Alex. How’s it going?”

“Just great, Juli,” he said, genuinely meaning it. “Just great.”

She beamed as Alex cinched Tom’s wrists together with the belt. “Excellent. Did you order already?”

“Absolutely,” Alex said. “Food should probably be there by now. Hopefully it’s not getting cold. That’d be a real shame.”

Tom frowned and craned his neck to look into the women’s room. “But the FBI. My lawyers.”

“I’m sure they’ll all be joining the party soon,” Alex said. He raised one eyebrow at Juli and watched as her smile broadened.

“Who’s in the bathroom?” he asked as he secured the belt around Tom’s wrists.

Juli beamed. “Bob, Gretchen, Sal, and Sadie. Our waitress, the busboy, the cook, and a diner unlucky enough to get caught in the shuffle when I was herding everyone to the bathroom after I heard you guys talking over here. Oh, and PS, these bathroom walls are really thin. Peeing during a stickup, Alex?”

Tom’s expression was incredulous. “But, but—I don’t believe this. You tricked me. This is an abomination! This is unacceptable! Untie me right now!”

Alex clamped his hand on Tom Portelli’s shoulder and shook his head. “Let’s go, Tom. We can find the police station and tell them how sorely you were mistreated. I’m sure they’ll be very sympathetic.”

***

It took a couple hours to sort through all the confusion, but eventually, Tom Portelli was ensconced safely in a holding cell at the Royal St. Lucia police station, waiting for his attorneys. The FBI was already en route and very interested to hear that the man they’d had an eye on for several years was safely in custody.

The three crewmen from the cargo ship were rounded up and shuttled to the police station as well. Remarkably, Juli and Alex were allowed to go. Despite their plans to commit several crimes over the course of the last few days, they were relieved to discover they hadn’t actually succeeded in committing any that were worth detaining them for. Juli felt it unwise to point that out to the police.

By the time they found the hotel room Malcolm had reserved, it was nearly midnight.

“I’m starving,” Juli said as she flopped onto one of the king-sized beds and looked around the room. Alex was still standing by the door, looking wary.

“Do you think they have room service here?” she asked him.

Alex hesitated, then moved into the room and began pawing through the brochures and booklets arranged atop the table near the window. He handed her the room service menu and kept moving past, careful not to even brush her hand.

“Didn’t you box up all those appetizers at the restaurant?” he asked. “I thought you already ate.”

“Sure, but I ate it all at the police station. Now I’m hungry again.”

Alex shook his head and sat stiffly on the edge of the other bed. He folded his hands in his lap while Juli studied the menu and wondered what the hell was going on with him. He had been strangely quiet on their cab ride to the hotel, but she’d chalked it up to exhaustion. Now, seeing his shoulders rigid and his forehead creased in a frown, she could tell there was something on his mind. She saw his eyes slide over her body, then quickly dart away.

“Want anything special?” she asked as she picked up the phone. “Cheese sticks? Club sandwich?”

Alex looked at her again. “I want to know how you got to be such good buddies with Tom Portelli.”

Juli turned the menu over and shrugged. “I don’t see that on here. How about a chef salad instead?”

“I take it you’ve known him awhile?”

“Maybe a nice Denver omelet?” she offered hopefully.

“How about Uncle Frank—or Frankie-Two-Toes, as he’s more commonly known,” Alex said, not giving up. “I take it you two were close?”

“I know! A piece of cheesecake. Strawberry or passion fruit?”

Alex stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Do they have burgers?”

“Cheese or regular?”

“Cheese, please. Make sure you get extra fries.”

Juli dialed and placed an order for a Denver omelet with a triple order of sausage links, french fries, two cheeseburgers, a garden salad, two Cokes, and two pieces of cheesecake—one strawberry, one passion fruit. When she hung up, Alex was still staring at her. She couldn’t read his expression at all. Was he preoccupied? Hungry? Horny? Honestly, it could be any of those things.

Juli was hoping for the latter.

Alex continued to stare and Juli shivered under the weight of his gaze. “What?” She rubbed her arms to make the fuzziness die down, but it only made her skin feel hot and achy with the need to be touched.

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