Volcano (36 page)

“You really think Emile can persuade Jacobsen to talk? I thought it was only in murder mysteries that the crook tells all, just before falling off the cliff or something.” She applied her lipstick and wished she had some jewelry. The hasty shopping trip to Castries hadn't given her time for more than the dress and shoes and some clean underwear. Charlie had sent someone over to the resort to pick up the remainder of her things, but that didn't include any necklaces suitable for a gown like this.

“If Emile can't do it, the FBI will send one of their men in. They're experienced at interrogating. If we can just get enough on tape to justify a court order to open all his records, we should be fine.”

“And you won't be involved at all?” she asked, searching through Tammy's drawers for something, anything, to relieve the bare expanse above the gown's bodice.

“What are you looking for now?” he asked impatiently. “We need to get out there. I want you surrounded by people so Jacobsen doesn't have a chance at any more of his strong-arm tactics.”

“You don't think he'll run as soon as he sees us?” She slammed the drawer. “I should have brought a scarf. I feel like a damned ostrich in this thing.”

“I doubt if he'll recognize you. If he sees me, it should put his nerves on edge. If he has any brains at all though, he'll know Emile and I hate each other's guts. He'll believe it if Emile tells him he wants to keep me out of St. Lucia.” Charlie picked up the teddy bear and dumped it on her lap. “Did it ever occur to you that the stupid bear is holding that box for a reason?”

Penelope glanced at Charlie in surprise, then cuddled the bear in her arms so she could pry at the heart-shaped box. “I thought it was for looks. If it's candy, I've smushed it into fudge by now.”

“I noticed the Godivas survived,” he said dryly. The candy box sat on the vanity beside her.

“It will be all your fault when I gain ten pounds I can never lose again.” The box finally popped open, and a tumble of velvet and something hard fell out. Penelope's heart lodged in her throat as she reached for the sparkly shimmer of gold at her feet.

“Ten pounds will just give me more to put my arms around,” Charlie replied complacently, but she noticed his expression wasn't quite as serene as his words. He watched nervously as she opened her fingers to see what she'd retrieved.

A fragile gold chain interspersed with the soft glow of pearls draped over her palm. Penelope gasped, then stroked the rainbow shimmer of the center pearl. It warmed against her hand. “Charlie!” she murmured. “It's exquisite. And entirely too expensive.” She'd love to keep it, but she had a healthy awareness of the price of pearls. He could probably pay his employees for a week for the cost of this.

Gingerly, he took the delicate piece from her hand and draped it around her neck, fumbling with the snap until it caught. “I can afford it, and you're worth every penny. If I'm going to flaunt you, I might as well do it right.”

“Is that what you're doing, flaunting me?” She leaned over to admire the result in the mirror, but she was watching Charlie's reflection. A man as handsome as Charlie didn't need to buy women with jewelry. He could have all he wanted for a whistle. She wondered what was buzzing around in that inscrutable mind of his.

He caught her elbow and dragged her up. “I'm waving you in everyone's face and saying ‘Nyah-nyah, she's mine and you can't have her,' “ he said, pulling her toward the door. “Isn't that what every man dreams of? You're the female version of my GTO. I've got one and no one else does.”

“Macho scum,” she said as he threw open the door. “At least this way you can safely say yours is bigger than anyone else's. I doubt there's another woman my height in the room.”

Charlie chuckled. “Then we're well matched, sweetheart. And mine
is
bigger than anyone else's. You'll just have to take my word for it.”

She'd bash him over the head some other time. Right now, she needed him by her side as they strode toward a room full of strangers, one of whom was probably a murderer.

TWENTY-EIGHT

“Charlie will rip my guts out,” Raul muttered as he steered Tammy toward the hotel elevator. “I should never have let you come with me.”

“I'm of age,” Tammy reminded him. “And Charlie hasn't played my guardian for a decade. You're just looking for excuses.”

“You don't know Charlie,” he grumbled. “He thinks women are little kittens to be played with and protected. Until now, he's thought you protected. He'll cut my head off.” He unlocked the door to their room and shoved her in. “I have no excuse for taking you with me instead of leaving you at Disney.”

“If Charlie thinks women are kittens, he needs his head rearranged. I've a feeling Penelope will take care of that,” Tammy said with satisfaction as she glanced around the inexpensive hotel room, “but first we have to see that they're safe. I want to help instead of being a burden, for a change.” She'd always stayed in five-star hotels when she traveled, but this room seemed to contain the basic requirements: a bed and clean sheets.

“Penelope isn't his sister; you are, and he's expecting me to look after you, not get you in trouble.” Raul stood awkwardly near the door, not touching her, barely even looking at her.

Tammy thought this nonsense had gone on long enough. She reached for the knit of his shirt and tugged it upward. “I want a reward for braving the airport alone and for finding you without anyone's help.”

He caught her hand and held it away from him. His dark eyes harbored no anger, just serious concern. “You should never have done that. Miami is a dangerous place for someone with no experience in traveling alone. It is even more dangerous in my company. I want you to stay here while I go to the office. I want to see if Charlie's checked in.”

Tammy let go of his shirt and limped backward. “If you don't want to be seen with me, just say so. You don't have to make up excuses.”

Pain etched his wide brow as he finally looked at her, but he still kept his hands firmly at his sides. “Charlie is right. I can only hurt you, and you deserve better than that. I love you enough to want what is best for you, even if it means sending you away.”

Tammy's heart skipped a beat as she searched his expression for sincerity. She'd never heard the words
I love you
directed at her before. She wasn't certain of their meaning even now. She just knew that in these last months this kind and caring man had taught her more about the meaning of life than her parents had in twenty years.

“Don't you think I'm old enough to know what's best for me?” she asked quietly.

Raul closed his eyes and leaned against the door. “That's what I want to believe, but you are young and reckless. You do not know what the world is like.” He opened his eyes again. “Now is not the time for this discussion. I must find out what Charlie is doing and how I can help.”

Tammy nodded wisely. She knew a great deal more of the world than Raul realized. Being crippled and an object of pity and scorn taught lessons he could only imagine. But she wouldn't press the subject.

“Call the office,” she said. “I think we'd best stay unseen until we know what's happening.”

“I already know what's happening,” Raul replied gloomily. “I followed one of Jacobsen's men on the island after he tried to burn the trailer.”

Tammy raised her eyebrows. “You didn't tell Charlie?”

Raul narrowed his eyes to slits. “And have him tearing in there and getting shot? Your brother doesn't know the meaning of caution.”

“Or patience,” Tammy agreed.

“I wanted to get back here first, where we could talk and I could prevent his doing something foolish, but I didn't dare fly off the damned island. I was afraid they'd catch me at the airport.” Raul gripped his fingers tighter. “I had to sail out. If only I could have reached Charlie sooner...”

“You did everything possible,” Tammy reassured him. “You can't blame yourself because Charlie jumped off half-cocked.” Sensing his continued tension, she watched him warily. “So, what did you find out?”

“The thief led me to Jacobsen's office in Castries. I broke in and read through his contract files. Jacobsen has a major contract with a foreign company, to build a resort on St. Lucia with a completion date of next year. Jacobsen has sold shares of the project to several real estate developers, including companies your father owns. He cannot possibly finish a project of that size in time if he doesn't already own the land and have the permits.”

“And he doesn't own the land,” Tammy finished. “He's told them he owns the property you're developing. They don't know it belongs to Charlie.”

Raul shrugged. “Charlie didn't want your parents to know he had any connection with the island.” He hesitated before adding, “The profit would be enormous, enough for a man with few scruples to kill for.”

“And Penelope and Charlie have already proved that Jacobsen's working with men of few scruples.” Tammy's stomach sank to her feet as she absorbed the seriousness of their situation.

“I think,” Raul said slowly, “he must force Charlie into signing away all the land and permits, which is why he tried closing Charlie's bank accounts, thinking Charlie's cash flow was as limited as his own. Now, he must try some other method.” He shot Tammy a worried glare. “If Jacobsen had something Charlie wanted bad enough, he could force him to trade. That is why you must stay out of sight.”

“What about Penelope?” Tammy whispered. “Would he know about Penelope?”

Raul moved toward the telephone. “This is what we must find out.”

***

“I hate these monkey suits,” Charlie said resignedly, grimacing at the rum punch in a crystal glass a waiter handed him. “First time I wore one, I spilled grape juice down the front and my mother didn't speak to me for a week.”

“You can spill as much juice as you like now,” Penelope reminded him with humor. “You're paying for it.”

Charlie grinned. “You wouldn't care if I spent the rest of the evening with purple down my front?”

She shot him a look of exasperation. “Charlie, get it through your fat head—I've spent the better part of my life with people judging me on how I look and not caring who I am on the inside. Do you really think I'm so shallow as to care if you wore jeans and a clip-on tie to this thing?”

He snorted. “What do you want me to believe? You've been cutting me down for my clothes ever since we met.”

Penelope had the grace to look guilty. “It's easier to dismiss someone as the clothes they wear, not the people they are, until you get to know them.” She lifted her chin. “You wanted to look like a tourist. It worked, didn't it?”

Charlie narrowed his eyes and disregarded her attempt to deflect the subject. “So, now that you know who I am, you can't dismiss me because of what I wear?”

She sighed. “Now that I know who you are, you could wear a bunny suit and I couldn't dismiss you. Actually, I had a damned hard time ignoring you in a tank top.”

He set the glass down and grinned with his usual arrogance. “If I sat down on one of those Louis the Whatever chairs over there and made an ass of myself crumpling it into dust, you wouldn't flinch with embarrassment and hide in the closet?”

At that picture, Penelope relaxed and eyed the gilded chairs. “Why don't you sit on one and I'll sit on your lap and we'll find out.”

“I'd take you up on that, but I believe Jacobsen just walked in.”

Penelope glanced in the direction of Charlie's gaze and saw the burly contractor dressed in a tux, striding purposefully into the ballroom. He looked no different from every prosperous man in here. She had difficulty believing he could hire assassins.

“I don't think a confrontation is a wise idea until the FBI gets some answers,” Charlie whispered in her ear. “Dance with me.” He pulled her into his arms to the musical strains of an old Beatles song and swung her toward the open patio doors.

Humid air washed over them as they stepped beyond the glass portals of the air-conditioned ballroom, into the moonlit night. Shutting out any drama about to occur in the house, Penelope closed her eyes and drank in the fragrant scents of jasmine and the earthy odors of jungle and soil. A bird called from the frangipani tree high overhead. The filtered strains of the orchestra drifted through the open doorway.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Charlie whispered in time to the tune, swinging her across the flagstone terrace.

Penelope smiled at the old refrain and enjoyed the intoxicating experience of Charlie's hands guiding her with an expertise that allowed her to sink into the song without worrying about crashing into other couples—or in this case, trees and flowerpots. She'd already noted that for a large man, he moved with grace. He also moved with the rhythm of a professional dancer. She could spend the night dancing in his arms. Or half the night, she amended. Already, she was anticipating that big bed back in her assigned room.

“I'm in love with yo-o-u....”