Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1) (12 page)

“We had a weather system stall over the area for a few days,” he said. “But it cleared out, thankfully, or I would have had to cancel the event tonight.”

“The event?” Spencer glanced over toward the shallow end, where three hotel workers were spreading tablecloths over the tables clustered in front of a wall of tall privacy hedges.

“Retirement party for a bank executive,” Sione said.

Spencer nodded, feeling a bit surer of her looks, pulling one knee toward her chest. “So, I’m actually glad to see you.”

“What a coincidence,” he said and smiled. “I’m glad to see you, too. I’ve been kind of worried about you.”

“Worried about me?”

Sione pulled another lounge chair close to hers and sat on the edge of it. “Because of that asshole who attacked you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she snapped. “I told you, I don’t need a hero. I can take care of myself. I always have, and I always will.”

A tense, awkward silence followed as Sione stared at her, an odd look in his hazel eyes that Spencer couldn’t fathom, and quickly, she looked away. Focusing on her toes, she mentally kicked herself for her aggressive declaration of independence. She was supposed to be getting close to him, not turning him off with her willful self-reliance. She should have played the damsel in distress. Men liked helpless women. They liked to be the hero, rushing in to save some hapless girl from her own self-destructive devices.

“So,” Sione cleared his throat. “How are you enjoying the honeymoon casita?”

“It’s lovely,” she said, thankful for an opportunity to rectify her misstep. “But I wish I was in one of the deluxe casitas.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because,” she said. “I’m not on a honeymoon. I’m not even married.”

Nodding, he said, “And why is that?”

“Why is what?”

He hesitated and then smiled a little. “Why is there no husband?”

“You think there should be?”

“I’m surprised there isn’t,” he admitted.

“Why are you surprised?”

“Because you’re really beautiful,” he said.

Spencer looked at her toes again, not sure she could trust his compliment. She’d been waiting for a solid confirmation of her beauty from him, but she still wasn’t sure being beautiful would matter or if she could rely on her good looks to help her get close to him. “Well, believe it or not, being beautiful doesn’t guarantee you a boyfriend,” she told him. “Or even a friend with benefits.”

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Do you date?”

Spencer froze a moment, thinking of the word “date” and her warped definition of what it meant. “Um, no, not anymore.”

He gave her a sly smile and then said, “I can’t believe nobody’s interested.”

“No, they’re interested,” she said. “But not in me. Not really.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re not interested in getting to know me,” she said and then shrugged. “But what am I saying, I’m acting like I’m worth getting to know, or something, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Why don’t you think you’re worth getting to know?”

“Because there’s no point in getting to know me.” She looked away and then back at him. “I would only be wasting somebody’s time, you know, since I’m not really into all that love and marriage foolishness.”

“Love and marriage foolishness?”

“It’s not for me.” She glanced toward the opposite end of the pool, where the staff was bringing out more chairs for the event. “I’m not going to be finding my soul mate any time soon.”

“How do you know?”

She looked at him. “Because I’ve planned it that way.”

“Sometimes plans don’t work out the way you think they will,” Sione said.

Spencer didn’t need him to tell her that. She already knew plans could blow up in your face, like a hand grenade. She’d learned the hard way and had the scars to prove it. “I don’t plan on falling in love and getting my heart broken,” she said.

He smiled a little. “But what if you do fall in love and end up with a broken heart?”

“I won’t because I stay away from love and romance and all that crap,” Spencer said. “It never works out, and you just end up wasting your time and effort and devotion on someone who doesn’t give a damn about you after all.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“What?”

“Did you end up wasting your time and effort and devotion on someone who didn’t give a damn about you after all?” Sione asked. “Is that why you don’t want love and romance?”

She stared at him, thinking about his question, wondering how to answer it. “No, I just …” Flustered, she said, “Love just makes people too emotional, and I don’t want to work myself up into an emotional hissing fit for nothing.”

“It’s hard not to get emotional when you love someone.”

“And that’s another problem,” Spencer said, glancing at him. “This ridiculous way people have of over-emphasizing love. They make it much more important than it really is.”

Sione looked at her, and she had the feeling he thought she was crazy, even though the corners of his mouth lifted. “You don’t think love is important?”

“It is,” she allowed. “But not as much as people think. You can’t live on love, you can’t pay the mortgage with love, the light company is not going to waive your payment because the two of you love each other with such staggering and exceeding passion.”

“Maybe you’re afraid,” Sione said.

Scoffing, she looked at him. “Afraid of what?”

“Of loving someone with staggering and exceeding passion.”

Heart slamming, she looked at him, realizing she had no response, no counter to his observation, no way to prove him wrong. Sione stared at her, a challenge in his hazel gaze, and soon the silence became heavy, uncomfortable. Minutes that felt like weeks passed.

Finally, Spencer said, “Well, um—”

“Mr. Tuiali’i! Mr. Tuiali’i!” One of the hotel staff hurried toward him, a frantic look in her dark eyes. “I hate to bother you, but we need you.”

Sighing, Sione told the staffer he was on his way.

“Before you go,” Spencer said. “I wanted to ask you for an update about my missing manuals? Did you talk to your employees? Does anyone know who delivered the wrong box to me? Has my box been found?”

“Unfortunately, no, not yet. But my secretary is still working on it,” he said, then stood, and stared at her, his eyes moving along her body from her feet and up her legs to her stomach and her breasts, where he paused long enough to cause the swirling between her legs to intensify, and finally, his gaze lifted to her face. “But hopefully we can get the manuals back to you ASAP. Enjoy the sunshine, Ms. Edwards.”

As Sione walked away, Spencer let out a sigh of relief, feeling a little better about her ability to complete
Step Two
. Not only had he told her she was beautiful, but his long, lingering gaze gave her a bit more confidence, enough to decide that he might be interested in her.

Maybe getting close to him wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. Maybe. Still, just because he’d called her beautiful didn’t mean he’d let her get close to him.
Close, but not too close.
Well, she didn’t plan to get too close to Sione. She didn’t care how good-looking and sexy he was. The resort owner wasn’t the kind of guy she would ever give her heart to. He would surely break it into a thousand razor-sharp pieces.

And when he found out what kind of woman she was, how she’d drugged men to steal from them, he would want nothing to do with her. Spencer shook her head. Why the hell was she speculating about giving her heart to Sione? It was never going to happen because she wasn’t going to give her heart to a man. Her decision had nothing to do with any lingering “mommy” issues or any fear of loving someone with staggering passion or whatever the hell.

Suddenly a bit irritated by the blue skies and sunshine and annoyed by all the love and romance talk, Spencer decided to pack up and go back to her casita. Standing, she grabbed her beach bag and then turned. The cab driver who’d called her a bitch was standing in front of her, leering as his gaze dropped to her breasts.

“What the hell do you want?” She took a step back, away from his rank smell and damp face.

“Got a message from Mr. Chang for you,” he said, swiping a finger across his top lip.

“What kind of message?” she asked, wary.

“It’s time for
Part Two
of the side venture.”

San Ignacio, Belize

Belizean Banyan Resort – Manager’s Office

The door opened as Sione was ending a call with a vendor, and when D.J. poked his head into the office, he beckoned for his cousin to come in as he replaced the receiver on the base.

“Got some more information about Kwik Kash,” D.J. said, taking a seat. “Remember I told you the place burned to the ground. Fire was suspicious. Well, initially it looked like an insurance scam. You know, the place isn’t doing well, so the owner burns it down to collect a check and start over. But then they found a body among the ashes and charred rubble.”

“Someone was killed in the fire?”

“Olivia Eastman was the victim’s name, and it was theorized that she stole the money from the Kwik Kash safe then torched the place to cover up her dirty deed but ended up trapping herself inside the building in some strange, freakish accident,” D.J. said. “But that’s just a theory. Seemed reasonable. Eastman also had a record, like Carla Garcia, and she supposedly owed money to some shylock in Jersey, so she might have been desperate.”

“And what does this have to do with Ms. Edwards.”

“I was hoping to find a connection between Ms. Edwards and Olivia Eastman, but no such luck,” D.J. said. “The connection is between Carla Garcia and Olivia Eastman. They worked at Kwik Kash together. Would have been nice to go to Jared with evidence that Ms. Edwards passed money and a fake passport to one of her former co-workers, but …”

“Listen, I need to talk to you about something,” Sione started and then trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase his request.

“What is it?” D.J. asked.

Sione sighed, worried he might lose his nerve and convince himself to forget about asking his cousin for help.

Since he’d learned of his ex-fiancée’s death two days ago, Sione had made a few decisions. If Richard had been involved with his ex-fiancée’s death, then he had to know. He figured the first thing to do was to find out if she’d been lying about Richard coming to visit her in prison.

Yesterday, Sione had called her lawyer again, but Walter Perales had refused to give him the information. Frustrated, but not surprised by the attorney’s reluctance, Sione had eventually thought of D.J. With contacts all over the place, his cousin could possibly get him the information he needed, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to get D.J. involved in this mess with Richard and his ex-fiancée. Asking his cousin for help was risky. D.J. would have questions, and Sione didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to disclose Richard’s possible involvement if he didn’t have to. If his ex had lied, as Sione figured she had, then there would be no need to give D.J. any additional details.

“I need to find out who visited Moana while she was in prison,” Sione said. “Could you find that out?”

“Why would you want to find out who visited her while she was in prison?” D.J. asked. “And wait a minute. Did you just say her name? I thought
Moana
was a curse from hell. Since when did you start saying her name?”

“Since she died.”

“What?” D.J. stared at him. “She died?”

“Moana is dead.”

“How did she die?” D.J. asked. “Was she sick?”

“She was killed in a prison fight.”

“A prison fight?”

“There was some kind of riot,” Sione said. “And she was stabbed, but …”

“But?”

“But I’m not sure that’s true.” Sione sighed, rubbing his jaw. “I know this will sound crazy, but I think maybe the prison riot was arranged so that her death would look like an accident.”

“Arranged? You mean like somebody had Moana killed?”

Reluctant, Sione said, “Maybe.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You remember I told you she was calling me,” Sione said. “Well, she didn’t feel safe in prison. She said somebody had threatened to kill her.”

“Who threatened her?” D.J. asked.

“I’d rather not say,” Sione said, looking away from his cousin’s shrewd scrutiny. “So, do you think you could get the information for me?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” D.J. said. “But …”

Wary, Sione glanced at his cousin. “What?”

“Did she tell her lawyer about these threats?” D.J. asked. “Or the warden?”

“I don’t know,” Sione said. “I don’t think so.”

“Why did she tell you?” his cousin asked, leaning forward. “What did she think you could do?”

You have to tell Richard not to hurt me.

“She wanted me to talk to the person who threatened her.”

“So, the person is someone you know?”

“Yeah,” Sione admitted. “That’s why I want to see who visited her. I want to see if this person came to see her and threatened her.”

“Does this someone have a name?”

Exhaling, Sione rubbed his eyes, already regretting his decision to get D.J. involved.

“Is it Ben Chang?”

Staring at his cousin, Sione said, “Why would you think it was Ben?”

“I know what went down between them,” D.J. said, sitting back. “I know you think he set her up, left her holding the bag in that situation they had with the boutique in Jamaica. Maybe she’s been making noise about ratting him out to get herself a new trial, or something. And maybe he paid her a visit to tell her that snitching on him would be a bad idea.”

Sione leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. The idea of letting D.J. think Ben had threatened his ex-fiancée was tempting and not farfetched. Ben and Moana had a tumultuous history. It wouldn’t be surprising for Ben to issue a threat to Moana if he thought she was trying to set him up.

Still, Sione didn’t want to lie to his cousin. He couldn’t tell D.J. the truth though. Not now. And maybe he wouldn’t have to, if it turned out that Richard hadn’t visited Moana.

“Let me ask you this,” D.J. said. “If your suspicions about Ben are true, then what are you going to do?”