Deceived (9 page)

Your imagination is working overtime again, McGrady
, she scolded herself. Okay, so she probably shouldn't be out there alone—especially after what Roberts had said. But the exercise was working the tension out of her muscles, and the wind seemed to be blowing away the turmoil of the last few days. Just one more time around, she promised herself, then she'd go in.

As she rounded the stern for the second time, a figure moved out of the shadows and stepped toward her.

Jennie's heart thumped like an overachieving bass drum as she hurried past the man. He followed, caught up, then matched her stride for stride.

“Isn't it past your bedtime?” The voice seemed familiar, but Jennie couldn't place it. Probably because her pulse was pounding so loud and furious in her ears it left her partly deaf.

“Who…” She glanced over at him as they jogged near one of the glassed-in lobbies. Light reflected off the wire-rimmed glasses of the guy who'd interviewed her on the television show in Portland. “Hendricks.” Jennie slowed to a walk. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you out. And investigating the disappearance of a certain government agent. I smell a big story here, and I intend to get it.”

“I don't…”

“Come on, Jennie. You don't buy that stuff about your dad being dead any more than I do. I saw the way they manipulated you back in Portland. The government concocted the witness and his story to cover their rear ends. They get real nervous when the press comes in.”

Despite her own misgivings about the government, Jennie found herself wanting to defend them. She ran her fingers through her hair and held it away from her face. “You got their official statement. They admitted that they were wrong and apologized. I'm sorry I dragged you into it. So give it up, okay? I'm not looking for my dad anymore.”

Hendricks planted himself in front of her, forcing her to stop. “So they got to you too.”

Jennie avoided his gaze and walked around him. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Was it that agent I saw you with?”

“Wha…?” Panic snaked out of its hiding place and coiled around her throat, nearly choking her. He'd seen her talking to Roberts. How much had he heard? A fierce desire. to protect Roberts and her father rose up in her chest.
Easy, McGrady. Don't tell him anything.
Concentrating on keeping the alarm out of her voice, Jennie lifted her gaze to meet his. “What makes you think he was an agent?”

“I can spot a cop a mile away.”

Jennie swallowed. “What if I told you he was a good friend? A very good friend. What if I said I was in love with him and had to meet him secretly because my family wouldn't approve?”

Hendricks' gaze didn't flinch. His mouth turned up in a wry grin. “I'd say you were lying through your pretty little teeth. And then I'd wonder why you were trying to protect him.”

Jennie looked away. She'd have to take another approach. “Okay, you're right. He is an agent. He used to work with my father. He was just telling me what a good agent Dad was and how he missed him. We were comparing notes.”

“At this time of the night? Sure.” Hendricks nodded, looking a little like a cat with his paw on a mouse's tail. “Know what I think?”

What makes you think I care?
Jennie felt like saying. But that wasn't true. Jennie cared very much what he thought.

“I think the reason you're not looking for your father anymore is that you've found him.”

“What?”

“I think that guy you were just talking to so intently knows where your dad is and was making arrangements for you to meet him.”

Jennie released the breath she'd been holding. “I wish. Look, Mr. Hendricks, he was just giving me some information about my father. I'm sorry you made the trip for nothing, but…” Jennie shrugged.

“I'm surprised you'd give up so quickly.”

“I…”Jennie paused to collect her thoughts. She'd have to be careful not to arouse any more suspicion. “Ordinarily I wouldn't, but I seem to have hit a dead end. I've done all I can do.”

“ Well, I haven't. The government's holding out on us and I plan to keep digging until I find the truth.”

A week ago, having Hendricks' help would have thrilled her. Now it was a frightening prospect. If he unraveled too much of the mystery, he might put her father and her family in more danger than she already had. Still, she had to let him think she was on his side. At least then maybe she'd know what he was up to and be able to inform Roberts. “I appreciate that,” she said, offering him a half smile. “I really do. Let me know what you find out, okay?”

Hendricks nodded as he held open the door leading from the deck into one of the lobbies. Jennie faked a smile, then walked across the lobby area and up the stairs without looking back. Had he believed her? She was a lousy liar—always had been. Mom had drilled the message of always telling the truth so deeply into her brain that she practically broke out in hives when she lied.
The truth shall set you free
. “Oh, God,” she breathed, “this is all so confusing. I didn't want to lie to him, but if Hendricks gets hold of the real story we could all be in danger.”

Jennie entered her stateroom, undressed, and slipped into bed. She wished she could talk to Gram—find out what to do about Hendricks and Roberts and this crazy conspiracy she'd gotten herself into. Gram would help her sort through everything. But she didn't have Gram at the moment. All she had was a DEA agent named Roberts. She'd have to try to contact him. Warn him about Hendricks before the journalist upset things even more than she already had.

The next day, a tropical storm turned the ship into a miserable carnival ride, rolling it sharply from side to side and up and down. Nearly everyone on board—except Gram and Dominic, most of the ship's personnel, and a few other souls with iron stomachs—rushed to the purser's desk to get the complimentary seasick pills.

Several times during the morning Jennie tried to get up. She needed to find Roberts. Each time she tried, the ship's rolling brought waves of nausea, sending her either to the bathroom or back to bed. Finally, toward midafternoon, the storm passed. Jennie tossed back another seasick pill and ventured out of the cabin. Lisa groaned and mumbled something about meeting her at the pool later.

Several questions haunted her and only Roberts could answer them. Needing some fresh air, Jennie tried the pool deck first. She lucked out. Not only had the sun come out, but Roberts, wearing a hat, sunglasses, and another wild multicolored shirt with matching pants, was sitting in one of the dozens of lounge chairs bordering the swimming pools. She glanced around. No sign of Hendricks. Still, with so many people around she had to be careful. She spotted Dominic at the opposite end of the deck and made her way toward him, choosing a route that would take her past Roberts.

As Jennie crossed in front of Roberts, she dropped her novel and stooped to pick it up. If anyone was watching, they'd just think she was a clumsy kid—which wasn't too far from how she felt at the moment. On the spot where the book had fallen, Jennie left a small yellow piece of paper on which she'd written, “Tonight. Same time, same place.” She hadn't signed her name. If Roberts found it, he'd know. If someone else picked it up, it wouldn't matter.

It wasn't until she'd deposited her beach bag on the chair beside Dominic that he looked up from the book he was reading.

“Jennie, it is good to see you. You are feeling better? Your grandmother told me you were sick.”

“Much. I used to think I was a pretty good sailor, but this morning…” Jennie shook her head and smiled. “Guess I should have taken my mom's advice and gotten some of those seasick patches.”

Dominic set his book down and unfolded himself from the chair. “I would like to swim. You will join me?”

“I'd love to but the doctor told me not to get my leg wet for a couple of days. I'll watch while you swim.”

Jennie walked with Dominic to the pool and stretched out on the warm wooden deck, positioning herself so she could see Roberts. She chanced a glance in his direction. He was gone, and so was the note. Good. Mission accomplished.

Jennie rolled over onto her back, sat up, and dangled her feet in the water. Dominic swam several laps, then glided toward her. In one seemingly effortless movement he rose out of the pool to sit beside her.

“I have missed you since yesterday.”

“Really?” She probably should have said, “I missed you too,” but she didn't. She'd hardly given him a second thought until just a few minutes ago.

Dominic leaned toward her—his lips only inches from hers. He would kiss her unless she moved. His lips brushed hers, tentatively at first, as if waiting for her to respond. She waited for the fluttery feelings to return like they had before at Dominic's nearness, but they didn't come. Jennie backed away. “I don't think this is a good idea.”

If her lack of response bothered him, he didn't show it. Dominic chuckled. “You are right—it is better to wait until we are alone.”

His pensive mood of the day before seemed to have disappeared. Jennie didn't have the heart to bring it back by telling him she probably wouldn't want to kiss him later on either. Instead, she steered their discussion onto safer ground. “Tell me about the university. What's it like?”

Dominic shrugged. “What can I say? It is big, too many people. Not like the convent in Bogotá where I attended school.”

“What are you majoring in?”

Dominic frowned and got to his feet. “Business law.”

“You don't seem too excited about it.” Jennie took the hand Dominic offered her and let him pull her up. “It is my grandfather's wish.”

“Really?” She followed him back to their lounge chairs.

“Does it surprise you—that I obey my grandfather?”

Dominic sounded so defensive Jennie wasn't sure how to answer. So much for a safe topic.

“I know you Americans do what you like,” Dominic continued as he reached for a towel and dried his thick dark hair. “It is different for us. We honor the requests of our elders, even…” Dominic stopped as though he'd said too much.

“It would be hard to go to school knowing you were being trained for something you didn't want to do,” Jennie said.

Dominic hung the towel around his neck and looked at her. He gazed into her eyes so intently, she felt as though he were trying to penetrate her soul.

Jennie cleared her throat and glanced away. He lowered himself into the chair and closed his eyes. His lips parted in a half smile. “Ah, Jennie. You have a way of making me talk about things I would not say to anyone else.”

Jennie sat down next to him and sighed. “Maybe I take after Gram. She says she has the kind of face that makes people want to share their life stories with her.”

“Yes, but I see more than that. You have an understanding spirit. What the sisters at the convent call ‘heart of God.'”

“I wouldn't know about that,” Jennie blurted, feeling uncomfortable about Dominic's description of her. “But I do have an inquisitive mind.” She slipped her sunglasses on and flattened the back of the lounge chair so she could stretch out on her stomach. After a few minutes of silence, Jennie's curiosity overtook her good sense. She lifted her head. “Dominic?”

“Hmmm?” he murmured without opening his eyes. “I probably shouldn't ask, and feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but I'm curious. What would you do with your life if you had a choice?”

He sighed. “I would paint portraits and watercolor seascapes and create magnificent bronzes of children and dolphins and mermaids.”

With only his voice he brought vivid images into her mind, and Jennie felt a loss perhaps as deep as Dominic's. “An artist,” she murmured when he'd finished. “That sounds wonderful. Have you told your grandfather how you feel?”

“Art is impractical.” His voice hardened. “It will not prepare me to take over the business for which I'm being groomed.”

“Can't you do both?”

“No. There are other matters…” Dominic erupted off the chair and headed for the water.

Jennie turned over and watched him, fully expecting to hear a sizzle and see steam rise as he dove into the pool. He swam a couple laps, then returned to his chair.

“Dominic, I'm sorry if I said something to offend you. I seem to be good at that.”

“You did not offend me, señorita.” He snapped up his towel and book. “I will leave you now.” And he did.

Jennie was still trying to figure out what she'd done wrong while trying to explain Dominic's absence at dinner. Matt hadn't seen him since he'd come in from the pool that afternoon. “Don't let him get to you, Jennie,” Matt said. “He's a little hotheaded, but he's really a nice guy. And he thinks you're great.”

“He has a strange way of showing it.” Jennie sipped at the chilled strawberry soup. “Yum. This stuff is delicious.”

“Remember, he is from another country,” Gram added, coming to Dominic's aid. “Their customs and traditions are not always like ours. You may be reading his motives and intentions wrong.”

Jennie shrugged, pretending not to care. Cultural dif­ ferences? Maybe. Or maybe he, too, realized that their relationship was not a match made in heaven or anywhere else. Still, Jennie was concerned for him. His anger and vengeful attitude could get him into big trouble. Jennie hoped with all her heart that he'd change his mind.
God
, she offered a silent plea,
please help Dominic to see that revenge isn't the answer.

Dominic didn't show up at all that evening, at dinner or during the musical production later on. Jennie excused herself at ten-thirty, saying she wanted to get to bed early. She'd only been in the cabin for a few minutes when Lisa came in.

“What are you doing back? I thought you'd be with Matt.”

Lisa shrugged. “You looked like you needed me more—and don't deny it.”

“I'm okay, really.”

“It's all this business about your dad, isn't it?”

“What?” Jennie's heart slammed against her chest. What did she know? Had Roberts talked to Lisa?

“You know—about your dad being dead. You're grieving his death and I should be spending more time with you.”