Sun Kissed (19 page)

“A finder’s fee,” Donovan agreed. “That way—”

“Ford gets more money than he’d make in several lifetimes with that diving business of his, he stays out of jail, he and Taylor get married, and both of them live happily ever after,” Lani said.

“That’s a workable scenario. It would also explain why she never contacted the local police yesterday,” Donovan agreed. “She’s obviously trying to protect him and figured the Feds pull more weight.”

That last was certainly unwelcome news to Lani. “Taylor didn’t contact the police?”

“Nope. Chief Kanualu didn’t know anything about the vandalism.”

“Yet another piece of the puzzle pointing to Taylor knowing what’s going on,” Lani admitted reluctantly. “But I still don’t believe she knows what’s happened to Ford. Otherwise, why would she involve you? And go to the FBI?”

“Good question.” He reluctantly pushed aside the top sheet that was barely covering her tan body. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re wasting time. Let’s go check the harbor records.”

“For sunken ships?”

He ruffled her hair with an easy familiarity. “You are not only one drop-dead sexy wahine, you plenny primo detective, Lani Breslin.”

*     *     *

“Where did I ever get the idea that police work was exciting?” Lani complained on their second day of searching through the stacks of leather-bound journals, seeking some record of the
Wainani
. Unfortunately, Orchid Island hadn’t yet digitized all their records, which dated back to the 1700s.

“Despite what you’ve seen on television, most of it is painstaking detail work,” Donovan said. “Like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.”

“Well, we couldn’t have found a dustier haystack if we’d tried,” she complained, wiping at a smudge on her pink T-shirt. “Whatever happened to the computer age?”

“You’re the one who pointed out that things are a little slower here,” he reminded her as he skimmed through yet another thick journal.

“I know.” Lani sighed. “But it seems so hopeless, Donovan. What if it turns out that the
Wainani
isn’t a boat, after all? We will have wasted two valuable days of your vacation.”

“It’s a boat,” he reassured her confidently. “And as for my vacation, I’d never consider any time spent with you wasted.”

She managed a weak smile. “Sometimes you can say the nicest things. Thank you. I needed that right now.”

She sounded tired and uncharacteristically discouraged. Reminding himself that Lani was not used to spending her days in dingy basement storage rooms, searching for the single key that might unlock an entire case, Donovan put the heavy book aside and went over to her.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look terrific with dirt on your cheeks?” he asked as he ran his knuckles over her cheekbone.

“You’re just prejudiced.”

“Probably so,” he agreed easily. “But you still look gorgeous in dirt.”

“If you find this appealing, you should see me covered in mud.”

A flame sparked in Donovan’s dark blue eyes. “Now that’s an interesting idea. Have you ever considered taking up mud wrestling?”

She arched a brow. “With you?”

He bent his head to kiss her. “Of course. You don’t think I’d let you go rolling around in the mud with anyone else, do you?”

“Mud’s awfully messy,” she murmured as his lips brushed enticingly over hers.

“I know. That’s precisely why it’s supposed to be fun. And why guys like it.”

When she tilted her head back to look up at him, the familiar dancing light was back in her eyes. “And exactly who’s going to clean up all the muck afterward?”

Donovan laughed. “There you go again, revealing that surprising practical streak,” he complained good-naturedly. “Want to go home and take a long shower for two?”

She twined her hands around his neck. “Funny you should bring that up. I was just thinking the same thing.”

Feeling the now-familiar stir of desire, Donovan kissed her long and lingeringly. “Later,” he said reluctantly.

“Later,” she agreed with a lack of enthusiasm that mirrored his own.

They had been back at work for less than ten minutes when Lani found it.

“Donovan!” she called out excitedly. “Here it is! The
Wainani
! She went down in a tropical storm nearly fifty years ago on a trip from Oahu to Orchid Island. You were right.”

“So she was a cargo barge,” he read over her shoulder. “Let’s see what’s on the manifest.”

“Just the usual,” she murmured, reading through the lengthy list. “Tools, hardware, cars—” As she turned the page, Lani drew in a sharp breath. “And the sugar cooperative’s monthly payroll in the vault!”

“The cooperative shipped two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash?”

“It wasn’t all that unusual,” she explained. “The workers, many of whom were transitory, didn’t really trust banks. Most of them preferred to get their pay in cash. And continued to until after 9/11, when the island tax department got stricter and started cracking down on untraceable payments.”

“No wonder Britton was jazzed,” Donovan mused. “A quarter of a million tax-free dollars, while not exactly the kind of loot that was on the Titanic, would still make a nice nest egg for anyone to start a marriage with.” He frowned as he continued to read the record. “This is interesting.”

“What?”

“The Coast Guard received a distress signal right before the
Wainani
went down.”

“What’s so unusual about that?” Lani questioned. “They probably receive a lot of SOS calls during storms.”

“Probably do,” he agreed. “But how many of those ships do you think report that they’re being boarded by pirates?”

“Seriously?” Every vestige of fatigue vanished as Lani’s eyes filled with excitement. “Pirates?”

“Pirates. But don’t get that excited because I seriously doubt we’re talking Captain Jack Sparrow… It’s time we had another little talk with Taylor.”

“This is getting more thrilling by the minute,” Lani said as they returned up the coast. “Imagine the
Wainani
being boarded by pirates only minutes before it went down with all that cash on board!”

“Now all we have to do is find out who hired the pirates.”

She glanced over at him. “And you can do that, can’t you, Donovan?”

He grinned as he patted her thigh. “Piece of cake.”

Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, reminding him of the way she looked when they were making love. Although Donovan had been dragged into this case, he wasn’t feeling so bad himself.

After being cooped up behind a desk for so many years, coming in after crimes had been committed, he’d forgotten the thrill of the chase. Only two things dampened his enthusiasm: the first being that he still didn’t have a clue as to Britton’s whereabouts and the second was the nondescript sedan that had been following them all day. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that it was still there.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“It seems Dempsey knew a lot more than he admitted to me,” he said. “Because we’ve been followed all day.”

“By the FBI?”

“Hopefully. And don’t turn around,” he said when she began to shift in the seat. “I’d rather it be the Feds than whoever’s after Britton.”

*     *     *

“Pirates?” Taylor stared at Donovan as if he’d suddenly started speaking Martian. “The
Wainani
went down with pirates on board?”

“The fact that you know the name of the ship suggests you also know what your fiancé’s been up to,” Donovan said.

“Only some of it,” Taylor insisted. “I knew he’d found the ship and intended to salvage it. But I didn’t know anything about pirates. And I certainly don’t know where he is! Pirates?”

The last was said with a wail, and her hands shook as she attempted to light a cigarette. She’d finally managed to quit last year, but Lani decided it wasn’t surprising that this situation would have kick-started the habit again.

“Here,” Donovan said, taking the matches from her hand. “Let me.”

Taylor gave him an appreciative look as she inhaled deeply. “I was afraid you’d find out about the
Wainani
,” she said on a flat voice. “Especially after Lani told me all about you being recruited for the FBI.”

“I thought you wanted Donovan to find Ford,” Lani objected.

“I did. Because I was getting desperate. He was my only hope. I just didn’t want him to find out about the
Wainani
at the same time.”

Lani was clearly confused. “Why? Surely you don’t think Donovan would steal the money?”

“Of course not.” Taylor was on her feet, pacing nervously back and forth across the floor of the candy shop that looked a lot tidier than it had just two days ago. She’d locked the door and turned over the Closed sign as soon as they’d arrived. “But I was afraid if he knew what Ford intended to do, he’d arrest him.”

“My jurisdiction doesn’t cover Orchid Island,” Donovan pointed out.

“So?” She shot him the stink eye. “All you’d have to do is tell Chief Kanualu what you know, and Ford could end up in jail.”

“Donovan wouldn’t do that,” Lani said quickly. “Would you, Donovan?”

“I’m a lot more interested in keeping the guy alive than in putting him behind bars,” he confirmed. “Speaking of which, what, exactly, did you tell the Feds?”

“I didn’t think you’d bought that story about the hookup,” Taylor admitted. “I knew it wasn’t very convincing, but I had to make up the story on the spot. How was I to know that you’d find out I’d been to Agent Dempsey’s office?”

“I told you he was brilliant,” Lani put in.

“So you did,” Taylor agreed dryly. “As for the FBI, I didn’t give them any details. I only asked Dempsey and the two other agents he called in, if the government gave rewards for the recovery of stolen salvage. Hypothetically, of course.”

“And you thought they’d buy that?” Donovan asked. As many years as he’d been a cop, he’d heard just about everything. And could still be surprised at the idiocy of some people.

Taylor nodded. “They certainly seemed to. In fact, they didn’t appear at all interested in anything I had to say.”

Donovan knew better, but he didn’t see any point in muddying the waters at this point. Since Taylor had actually been cooperating for once, he didn’t want to take a chance on her clamming up.

“Where is the
Wainani
, Taylor?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Ford said it would be safer if he was the only one who knew where she went down,” she added, seeing Donovan’s disbelieving look.

“Do you know if he had a chart showing the spot?”

Taylor shook her head dejectedly. “I don’t think so. That’s what the people who trashed our shops were looking for, wasn’t it? The chart.”

“It would appear so,” Donovan agreed.

“I was so worried about the authorities finding out what Ford was doing. But the men who tore the place apart weren’t FBI, were they?”

Donovan’s lips were a taut, grim line. “No. They would’ve shown up with a warrant.”

Her blond hair was like a curtain, hiding her face as she bent her head. When she finally lifted her gaze, her wet eyes observed Donovan bleakly. “Ford’s in a great deal of danger, isn’t he, Donovan?”

Donovan knew the gallant thing to do would be to lie, to assure Lani’s friend that she’d have her missing fiancé back in time for dinner. “I think he is, Taylor,” he said instead.

She digested that for a long, thoughtful moment. “Then you’ll just have to find him before something terrible happens to him.”

“Of course he will,” Lani assured her. “Won’t you, Donovan?”

“Since I’ve always been a sucker for gorgeous damsels in distress,” Donovan said philosophically, “I suppose I don’t have any choice.”

“Taylor is beautiful, isn’t she, Donovan?” Lani asked as they drove away from the Sugar Shack.

Knowing he was in a no-win situation, Donovan merely shrugged. “Sure. I suppose so. If a guy goes for that type.”

She slanted him a sideways glance. “Don’t most men prefer blondes?”

“Not necessarily. And I thought we’d agreed that I’m not most men. Are you by any chance fishing for compliments?”

The blush that was the bane of every redhead’s life rose brilliantly in her cheeks. Folding her arms, Lani directed her gaze steadfastly out the window. “Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

He reached over and took her hand. “For the record, the gorgeous damsel in distress I was referring to was you.”

A smile lit her eyes. “Thank you, Donovan. That’s a very nice thing to say.”

“It’s the truth,” he said simply as he glanced up at the rearview mirror, not at all surprised to see the sedan still following at a discreet distance.

The car continued to stick with them later that evening, parking nearby when they attended a showing of Thomas Breslin’s paintings at the Orchid Island Gallery. Donovan had been to several gallery shows over the years but none as unique as this one.

The white walls were covered with abstract paintings, all of which were as colorful as they were horrendous. Watching Thomas circulate through the crowd, drinking in the enthusiastic compliments, Donovan decided that he had never seen a happier man. To no one’s surprise, it appeared that the show would sell out before a family dinner at the Breslin home.

“Would you be very angry at me if I showed up a little late to the dinner?” Donovan asked, taking Lani aside. She’d glammed up for the occasion in a dress-style version of a Chinese tunic, slit on the side to reveal an enticing glimpse of golden thigh. The blaze of color would have put a bird of paradise to shame. “I need to slip away for a short while.”

“Of course not. I can always get a ride with Mom and Dad. Or Margaret and Kai, who’ll be joining us, since he’s essentially become part of the family. Where are you going?”

“I want to try to get a line on those pirates.”

“Tonight? Won’t the trail be awfully cold?” Lani privately prided herself on knowing the proper investigative jargon. All those years of faithfully watching
Magnum P.I.
and
Hawaii 5-0
every week were beginning to pay off.

“I suspect Britton’s probably heated it up,” Donovan replied.

“Donovan, people know you’re looking for Ford. You could be in danger, too.”