The Beautiful and the Wicked (19 page)

“Two conch fritters. One conch salad. A plate of curry shrimp. Jerk chicken wings. And a side of plantains,” Ben said, almost drooling.

“Think you ordered enough food?” Lila said as she handed Ben his rum punch.

“I know. It's too much. But I never get here as much as I'd like. And their conch is mind-­blowing. Trust me.”

As they sat down with their feast, Lila quickly realized that Ben was totally right. The conch was divine and so was the setting. It was the first time since she'd gone undercover that she felt even remotely relaxed and at ease.

“God, it's so nice to be away from the boat,” Lila said, as she took the first sip of her second rum punch.

“Tell me about it,” Ben said as he stretched out his long legs and dug his bare feet into the soft sand.

After a long moment of contented silence, Lila asked, “You're pretty close to the Warrens, right?”

“Sure, I guess.” He shrugged, keeping his eyes out on the ocean.

“Is every trip this . . . colorful?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you kidding? The screaming, the smashing of glasses, the golden phallus tossed overboard? It's insane. I feel like we're all part of some psychological experiment where a bunch of ­people who hate each other are forced to spend time together in a totally isolated environment.” Lila felt relieved to actually say out loud how surreal and ludicrous this whole trip had been.

Ben laughed and nodded in agreement. “You know, I'm so used to the madness that I don't even notice it as much anymore. And you're the one who bears the brunt of it. I'm up on the bridge with the captain, so I don't have to deal with it as much. You're down in the trenches.”

“Let me tell you,” Lila said, “it isn't pretty. I feel like an hour doesn't pass without some major problem.”

“Yeah, Jack has a bad habit of always bringing out the worst in others.”

“So I've noticed.” Lila leaned forward. If her hopes of spending the day with Jack or trailing Poe were a bust, at least Ben might be able to give her some background information that she couldn't read in a file. “You've been working for the Warrens for how long?”

“Let me see, I started out as a deckhand for them back in the summer of 1999.” Ben's eyes grew wide. “Christ, that's almost ten years. Oh, God.” He took a dramatic sip of his rum punch. “Now I'm going to have a midlife crisis. I've spent a decade of my life trapped at sea with the Warrens.”

“Have Jack and Elise always been so . . . ?”

“Miserable? No. Not at all. I never would've stuck around for so long if that was the case. Actually, it used to be the opposite. Elise was always Jack's fiercest defender. But somewhere along the line it changed.”

“Why?”

“I don't know.” Ben looked away, out toward the ocean. “He fucks around. Everyone knows that. I can't imagine she doesn't. I've walked in on him getting blown by stewardesses more than once . . . way more than once, really, which is to say he's not very discreet. It's sad. They're certainly not passing the boat test, that's for sure.”

“The boat test?”

“My dad always told me that being on a boat brings out the best and worst in ­people. It's like salt in food, it just intensifies everything. But I'm not sure if he's right. I mean, you look more intensely beautiful now than you did on the boat. Who knew that was possible?” Ben laughed and slapped his hand to his forehead. “Oh, Christ. Did that sound as cheesy to you as it did to me?”

“Just a little,” Lila said.

“Sorry. I can't help it. Having you here in one of my favorite spots is making me a happy man.” He reached toward her, running his hand down her arm, but she pulled away.

“Ben, please.”

“Sorry,” he said, quickly apologizing, but his hand was now holding on around her wrist. He didn't want to let go.

“No,
I'm
sorry. I mean, I'm flattered. Really I am. And in another time and place I wouldn't hesitate. But right now I think it's best to keep things strictly professional.”

Ben slowly nodded. Lila could tell he was disappointed, even though he was trying to hide it.

“Well, you may be able to refuse
me,
” he said playfully. “But can you refuse getting another order of these conch fritters?” He popped the last fried golden bite into his mouth and, with one flash of his warm, toothy smile, all the tension between them instantly evaporated. She laughed in delight. Everything was fine once more. He jumped up for more food, and she went to order another round of drinks.

T
HEY ARRIVED BACK
at the yacht around four. As Lila climbed onto the boat, she felt lighter and happier than she had in weeks, and also slightly tipsy. But the moment she saw Sam's face, a wave of guilt crested over her. Sam looked exhausted. It was very clear that the day of handling both of their workloads had kicked her ass.

“I'm so tired of sweeping up the hideous messes left behind by hideous ­people,” Sam said. She, who was usually made up to perfection with glossy hair and expertly applied makeup, looked as bedraggled as she said she felt. Her hair was a collection of clumps and frizzes, her hands were red and raw from too much scrubbing, and her shoulders hung forward in defeat. It looked like this swamp-­rat Cinderella had given up hope that her prince would come. Lila told her to go rest in their cabin for the remainder of the day. Jack and his guests were having dinner on the island that night, so Lila could handle the remaining evening's chores by herself.

By nine that night, the guests had returned—­the men beaming from their day on the golf course and their evening at the bar, and the women glowing as well after countless steams, massages, wraps, and exfoliations. Lila felt a flicker of envy as she watched the group saunter onto the perfectly appointed yacht. She knew that they never once considered all the hard work behind every dust-­free surface, every neatly folded towel, every perfectly executed meal, every smiling nod that masked the deep well of resentment bubbling up underneath it.

By 9:30, everyone had changed into their evening attire and gathered by the pool, where they were drinking Asher's face-­numbing, tequila-­heavy margaritas under the canopy of stars. As Lila served drinks and listened to the mindless small talk floating on the air like so many fireflies, things seemed momentarily as calm as the warm Caribbean Sea lapping at the yacht. But Lila had come to realize that such respite from drama wouldn't last for long before the next clash of the titanic egos. And she was right.

An hour later, just as Lila was serving the third round of drinks, the yacht pulled up anchor, heading south to their next port of call: Anguilla. By then, only a few ­people remained scattered around the pool. Josie, as bored as always around a bunch of adults, had snuck off to her room with a bottle of coconut rum tucked under her arm. Clarence and Charity Baines, as very practiced WASP drinkers with livers of steel, gulped down a steady stream of cocktails while playing a cutthroat game of gin rummy. After a quick and perfunctory gin and tonic with the others, Seth Liss had returned to his room for a conference call about the Peregrine Software acquisition, which he announced loudly in Jack's direction, hoping he'd guilt the CEO into joining. But Jack was busy flirting outrageously with Esperanza Campos, and quickly swept the young Brazilian bride away from the group to show her his newest acquisition, the two-­person submarine he kept in the yacht's internal dock. Thiago, who'd been watching Jack and Esperanza like a hawk, left shortly after them to make sure his old friend didn't pull anything. Asher went on an ice run, but never came back, leaving Lila all alone and forced to serve Elise Warren tumbler after tumbler of straight tequila on the rocks with a squeeze of lime.

A few minutes later—­as Lila picked up dirty glasses and emptied ashtrays of half-­smoked Montecristos, and Clarence cheered triumphantly at a particularly successful hand of gin rummy while Elise drank herself into a semicomatose state—­there was a single, solitary scream. Then, all of the sudden, they heard a huge ruckus of voices coming from somewhere on the yacht.

“Do you hear something?” Elise slurred as she stood up slowly, swaying drunkenly.

“Do I ever!” Clarence laughed. “Sounds like a fox got into the henhouse.” The senator winked at his wife, who shushed her tipsy husband.

“How dare he!” Elise said as she began walking toward the melee. “I told him to keep his hands off Esperanza,” she muttered, assuming that what she was hearing were the consequences of Jack making a pass at Thiago's wife.

But Elise Warren was wrong. What she found, with Lila tagging close behind, was Jack Warren in a total fit of rage, at the door of his daughter's room. His face was bright red, and he was pacing back and forth in front of her door, screaming so loudly and so quickly that it took Lila a second to understand what he was saying.

“You fucking tramp!” he screamed. “How could you?”

“Jack!”
Elise yelled, the way an owner yells at a dog who's shitting on the carpet. She still had a tumbler full of tequila in her hand, which was now trembling. “What's going on?”

Without turning to look at his wife, Jack spat, “Just your precious daughter fucking the help.”

And then he stepped aside, and Lila saw what had made Jack so angry: Asher Lydon in his daughter's bed. Josie and Asher were sitting naked on the bed, with only a thin sheet covering both of them. Josie's face was pale as tears ran down her cheeks. Asher looked embarrassed as he searched the floor trying to locate his shorts. It was clear what had happened. Jack walked in on a member of the crew having his way with his one and only daughter.

Within a ­couple minutes the scene had a large audience: Jack, Elise, Lila, Clarence, Thiago, and Esperanza were all witnesses to the scandal. “I'm going to leave,” Asher said, standing up while still clutching the sheet. Asher kept his eyes to the ground and wrapped the sheet, which Josie was trying to grab back, around his narrow hips—­leaving Josie shivering, weeping, and naked on the bed as her father looked away in disgust. Then Josie leaped up toward her closet and threw an orange silk robe around her thin body.

“Get the fuck out of here, now, or I'll throw your ass overboard this very second,” Jack growled as he leaned aggressively toward Asher, who quickly retreated. Then Jack swiveled around and looked at all the ­people staring at him. “And what the fuck do you idiots think you're gawking at? This is a private family matter!”

Lila stood there with the others, frozen, staring straight into Jack's bulging eyes as she smelled his boozy breath pour out of him. She looked at Josie, who was now in the fetal position on her bed, weeping like a little girl.

“Didn't you hear me!?” Jack screamed. “Get the fuck out of here!”

As Lila hightailed it away from the latest Warren-­family meltdown, a frantic Edna Slaughter swept past her on her way to rescue her beloved mistress, Elise. Before Lila went back to the lower level, she turned to see Edna, the stewardess in shining armor, standing protectively by Elise, with her arm around the drunken woman's shoulders.

The only thing Lila could hear as she turned back around was Josie wailing. “But I love him, Dad. I
love
him!”

 

CHAPTER 16

T
HE NEWS THAT
Josie and Asher had been caught in bed together swept through the yacht like wildfire. As Lila finished up with her chores for the night, she could hear every guest and every crew member dissecting the gossip in gleeful whispers like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. Given Asher's reputation as a ladies' man and Josie's obvious flirtations with the shirtless and well-­oiled second officer, the only thing that most ­people found surprising was that Jack was surprised at all.

But Lila soon found out that Jack wasn't the only one who hadn't seen it coming.

“That rotten son of a bitch,” Sam said, with her jaw tightly clenched. Lila was taken aback by the vehemence of her bunkmate's reaction. She'd been so wrapped up in how this latest development changed her theories about who killed Jack that she'd momentarily forgotten that Sam was sleeping with Asher.

“I mean, I had my suspicions,” Sam said, blinking back tears. “But he told me I was crazy. That he'd never be with that ‘spoiled princess,' ” she repeated, using air quotes. “He said she wasn't even pretty, which she isn't!”

“Does he know you're sleeping with Jack?” Lila asked sheepishly. Sam always seemed very prickly when it came to her relationship with the boss.

“Of course not!” Sam said, as if she'd never heard anyone ask anything quite so obtuse.

“But then can't you call it even and just forget about it?”

“Are you kidding? Anyway, it's over now. He'll be kicked off the boat in the morning and then I'll never see him again,” Sam said, throwing her face into her pillow.

Lila searched her mind for something to say, but found nothing. She had a hard time conjuring up any real sympathy for Sam. After all, the chance that two promiscuous, preening, attention whores like Asher and Sam had any chance of building a real relationship was nil. And after witnessing such a dramatic display between Josie and Jack, Lila didn't have it in her to pretend that she cared about Sam's momentary heartbreak. Most of Sam's feelings resembled a summer storm—­dramatic but brief, and over almost as soon as they started.

Standing there listening to Sam's muffled weeping, Lila was relieved to hear a knock on the door. She was even happier to discover that it was Ben who was doing the knocking.

“Hey,” he said with a sweet smile. He was wearing worn-­in jeans and a gray V-­neck T-­shirt, and his dark, curly hair was going every which way. Lila thought he looked absolutely delicious. Just what she needed. “I take it you heard the news?” he asked.

“I didn't just hear the news. I was there,” Lila said. “I saw the whole thing.”

“Was it everything I'd imagine?”

“It was . . .” She faltered in the attempt to describe what she'd seen. “It was quite a sight. My favorite part was buck-­naked Asher stealing Josie's bedsheet. He left her totally nude and weeping in front of her own father while he ran out of there like someone on fire.”

Ben cringed. “That's Asher for you, all class.”

“Can you guys please shut up!?” Sam yelled. “I don't want to hear about it!”

“Sorry, Sam,” Ben said, giving Lila a confused face. “I'm hanging out in the mess with Asher. Just wanted to know if you'd join us.”

“That would be great,” Lila quickly responded. Of course Lila wanted to talk to Asher. He'd just been humiliated and fired. Lila needed to find out how he was feeling. Angry? Bitter? Mad enough to seek violent retribution?

“Asher? Have you talked to him?” Sam said, peeling her face off her pillow. “How is he?”

Ben saw Sam's red, weepy face and shot Lila another questioning look, to which Lila just shook her head. “He's been better. Captain Nash told him he's fired. He'll be leaving the yacht as soon as we dock tomorrow.”

“Has he said anything about me?” Sam asked.

“Um,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. It was obvious he didn't know how to respond. “He's pretty drunk and upset, Sam. I doubt if he's thinking too much about anyone but himself.”

“Well, that's nothing new!” Sam said. “Don't tell him I asked about him, okay?” She flung herself back down on the bed, once again burying her head in the pillow.

“Sure,” Ben said. “Um, anyway, you both should join us for a drink. I think everyone could use one or two or twenty right about now.”

“I'll pass,” Sam muttered into her pillow.

“I'm in,” Lila said as she left her bunkmate to cry by her lonesome.

“What the hell's with Sam?” Ben asked Lila once they were alone in the hallway.

“What do you think?”

“Oh,”
he said, the realization hitting him. “Sam and Asher. I should've guessed. It's like
Real World: Yacht Edition
or something. Feels like everyone is sleeping with everyone else.”

“So I'm beginning to notice.”

Way before they walked into the mess, they could hear Asher's voice.

“I should warn you,” Ben said, “this won't be a pretty scene.”

“Don't worry about me,” said Lila. “I can handle it.”

But Asher was much more out of control than Lila had expected. The laid-­back surfer she'd come to know had all but disappeared. What had replaced him was a very angry, drunk, and aggrieved young man who was feeling mighty vengeful at that particular moment in time.

He was sitting in one of the booths, surrounded by Pedro, Mudge, and Captain Nash. All four of them were drinking straight from a bottle of thirty-­year-­old Scotch that Lila happened to know cost Jack Warren about three grand. She figured Asher had grabbed it from the case Jack kept in the galley. Just one more way he could say “fuck you” to his former boss.

“We're going to miss you,” Mudge said in his thick brogue as he put his arm around Asher's still-­bare shoulders. Even at his worst, Asher refused the comforts of clothing.

“The fuck you are,” Asher said. “You jokers aren't going to miss me one goddamn second.”

“Easy there,” Captain Nash said.

“And fuck you,” Asher said, jabbing a finger in the captain's face. “You coulda stood up for me, but you didn't do shit.”

“The boss walked in on you screwing his precious daughter. You're beyond saving,” Nash said, with a dismissive scowl.

“Who says I can't fuck his daughter? It's not like he doesn't fuck everything in sight. I'm sure you've fucked him, haven't you?” Asher said, looking directly at Lila.

An uneasy feeling overcame Lila as she looked into Asher's eyes, which were narrowed into two furious slits, glaring at her. This was a totally different side to him than she'd ever seen. He looked as if he'd rip anyone apart who got in his way. Including her. Including Nash. Including Jack.

“Watch it, Asher,” Ben said. “Nicky's got nothing to do with this.”

“That's what you think,” Asher said. Ben stepped toward his friend and Asher scrambled out of the booth, climbing over Mudge and Pedro. But Lila grabbed Ben's arm to hold him back.

“Just let it go,” Lila whispered. She didn't want Ben to fight her battles for her. She was more than happy to fight them herself.

Pacing the room, Asher ripped the Scotch bottle out of Pedro's hand and took a very long swig. “Don't think he's got the better of me.” A nasty smile slowly spread across Asher's drunken face. “I've got plans for him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Nash asked, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Asher replied defiantly. “He acts like no one can get to him. But I can.”

“You better give that cock of yours a rest and let your head do some of the thinking,” Nash said.

Lila wanted to see just how much of Asher's attitude was bluster and how much of it was real. She needed to test him. “Really? You think
you
can get to Jack Warren?” she asked, observing him steadily.

“What did you say, you dumb bitch?” Asher spat. “Are you questioning me?” He took another swig. His face was slack, his body was covered with perspiration, and his eyes were red with rage.

“Know what I think?” Lila asked. “I think you're full of shit.” She wanted to get a rise out of him. She needed to know how quick-­tempered he was.

Asher lunged toward Lila, but she ducked out of the way. He was drunk and slow, easy to avoid.

“Nicky!” Ben said. “What're you doing?”

Asher tripped into a chair, causing him to drop the bottle, which smashed on the ground. As he steadied himself, he turned toward Lila. Then a nasty, dismissive laugh erupted out of Asher's mouth. “You don't know me,” he said to Lila.

“You're right. But I do know that you don't have the balls to stand up to Warren.” She paused and looked closely at Asher.

Everyone in the room went quiet.

“Fuck you. You don't know shit!” Asher said, moving again toward Lila, but this time she didn't jump out of his way. She faced him calmly, feeling his hot, whiskey breath in her face. It was then that she knew he wasn't just full of shit. She felt the pulse of violence running through his veins. This was a man who was capable of killing.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Mudge said, waving his hands. “Simmer the hell down, the both of you.”

Ben grabbed Lila by the arm. “I'm getting you out of here.”

“I'm fine,” Lila said, ripping her arm out of Ben's grasp. She was pissed off now and didn't feel like backing down.

“The hell you are.”

He put both of his hands on her shoulders and steered her into the hallway. Only when they were far enough away from the mess to no longer hear Asher's taunts did Ben say something. “What the fuck was that about?”

“I don't have a lot of patience for that macho show-­off shit.”

“But the way you got in his face. It was crazy. I mean, what were you thinking?” Ben stepped back and gave Lila a thorough once-­over.

Lila gave a little laugh. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“You know I would,” Ben said. But all Lila could think about was Asher. Could he be Jack's killer? But Ben had other things on his mind. “Do you want to cool off upstairs on the main deck?”

Lila knew what Ben was getting at. He was inviting her to take a moonlight stroll, which would lead her somewhere that she didn't want to go.

“I think I'll just turn in. I've had enough excitement for one night,” she said.

Romance was not on her mind. She was too focused on Asher. He was threatening, out of control, and looking for an outlet for his rage. Plus, he'd said he wanted Jack dead, and Lila knew that went beyond drunken ranting. He was truly dangerous.

Then, just as her mind was working through these thoughts, she felt Ben put his arm around her waist. He twirled her toward him and gently backed her up against the hallway wall. His touch was so unexpected that she practically jumped out of her skin. But before she could say anything, he pressed his lips against hers. She pulled her head away in protest, but only momentarily. She didn't know if it was the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body against hers, or just the madness of the moment, but she turned back toward him and kissed him greedily, with a hunger she could no longer deny.

It didn't last long.

Lila heard someone clear their throat. She turned to see Josie leaning up against Asher's door, watching them, a half-­empty bottle of coconut rum in her hand. Her eyes were ringed with smeared black mascara and her face was swollen from crying.

“Oh, hey, Josie,” Ben said, pulling away from Lila as he wiped his mouth.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Josie said in a flat tone.

“It's not what it looks like,” Lila said.

“Whatever,” Josie said as she went into Asher's room and slammed the door behind her.

The brief wave of passion that had just swept Lila away instantly retreated, leaving her feeling like an idiot who couldn't control herself even when she most needed to. She knew she had to put an end to this immediately. Her focus needed to be on the case, and only the case. She looked up at Ben who was beaming down at her.

His smile evaporated when he saw Lila's concern. “Oh, don't worry. She won't say anything.”

“That's not what I'm worried about,” Lila said.

“Come on. A little hallway kiss is good for you,” Ben said playfully. “Anyway, how am I supposed to keep my hands off you?” he said as he took her face in his hand. “You're utterly magnificent.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled away, for real this time. “It's late. And I've got to go to bed.”

“All right,” he said, stepping away from her. “Have it your way. I'll head to my little room. But you can't stop me from wishing you were with me.”

Lila didn't let herself smile at what he said until she knew she was out of his sight. She didn't want to give him any encouragement.

With Sam in a deep sleep on the top bunk, Lila was about to quietly change for bed when she heard Asher and Josie's voices down the hall. Wanting to know what they were talking about, Lila slipped back out of her room and tiptoed toward Asher's door, which was slightly ajar. She peeked in through the crack.

She saw Josie sitting on Asher's single bed surrounded by small piles of pills—­red, black, white, purple—­a veritable rainbow of psychopharmaceuticals, which Josie was counting and transferring into little sandwich bags while Asher paced around.

“He wouldn't do it, Josie. Trust me. You're his only kid,” Asher said. It seemed like he was trying to calm Josie down, but Lila could tell just how angry he still was from his tone and the way he was manically walking up and down his tiny room.

“Ash, I hate him so much,” Josie cried, burying her head into her hands, her long hair falling over her face like a curtain. “I wish he'd just die.” She threw her body down on the bed, upsetting the carefully arranged pills.