Perilous Waters, page 13
ELEVEN
Sam helped Jen and Cass escape the press only to be cornered by the investigators aboard the ship. He managed to extricate the twins from the probing about what was found in Bellamy’s room fairly quickly and, after walking Jen and Cass to their cabin to rest before dinner, he stormed back to the meeting room where he’d left his fellow FBI agent.
“Why am I only hearing about Reginald Michaels’s disappearance from a news reporter twenty-four hours after the fact?” She’d said he’d closed the gallery early yesterday afternoon—timing uncomfortably coincidental to Jen’s plunge in the river—and hadn’t been seen or heard from since.
“We only found out about it minutes before you.” The harsh edge to the older agent’s tone left no doubt who he blamed for failing to recover the stolen painting. But clearly, more was going on here than they’d anticipated.
Sam drilled him with a glare. “You were supposed to be searching Bellamy’s cabin for evidence he was behind the other attacks against her. So what’s with giving Jen the third degree over the printout you found in his room of the gallery’s acquisitions and disbursements?”
“If it was stolen from her cabin, as she claims now, why didn’t she report it missing at the time?”
“She told you. She didn’t realize the papers were gone. When did she go from being a victim to being a suspect?”
The agent’s eyes narrowed. “She’s been a suspect from day one. Something you seem to have forgotten.”
“For your information, a few moments before your news reporter made a circus out of this investigation, Jennifer Robbins revealed to me her discovery of the stolen A Duel After the Masked Ball and her suspicions of her former guardian.” Sam held his thumb and forefinger a quarter inch apart and thrust them toward the agent’s face. “And I was this close to convincing her to work with the police to bring him down.”
He clenched his jaw at the thought of how she’d intended to cover for her thieving “uncle” by quietly selling the gallery. Was it out of a misplaced sense of loyalty? Or purely out of self-interest, as Cass had implied?
Sam shook off the thought. Based on how Jen had cowered at the press’s onslaught, she’d done it out of self-preservation. Cass was another story. He wasn’t so sure her supposed ignorance of the theft wasn’t an act to throw him and Jen off.
“For your information—” the FBI agent’s gaze veered to the ship’s window “—we didn’t sic the news reporter on the women.”
“Then I hope you’ve confiscated that cameraman’s tape because if they run it and someone tips them off to my real identity—”
“Taken care of.”
Sam nodded his appreciation. “Have you located Bellamy’s roommate?”
“Still looking.” The agent handed him a picture. “She’s aboard the ship somewhere. We also found pills that could be Rohypnol in Bellamy’s shaving kit. We’ll have them tested and let you know what we find out.”
Sam studied the woman’s picture. “Is her name on the list of people who bought soft drinks the first night?”
“Yes, at the bar nearest the casino—a floor down from the art gallery. So she could have supplied it to Bellamy.”
“Any calls made to or from the room?”
“Nope. And Bellamy claims he doesn’t own a cell phone. We’re looking into it. You got a theory?”
“Yeah. Michaels might’ve figured out Jen was on to him, or is planning to sell the gallery, or both, and hired Bellamy to get rid of her and make it look like an unlucky tourist incident.” Sam folded the picture of Bellamy’s roommate into his pocket. “Michaels probably never intended for the women to make it to the gallery. Did your men track down Monticello?”
“Yeah,” the agent barked, clearly irritated that Sam hadn’t alerted him to the man sooner. Not that Sam blamed him. The local feds were singularly interested in recovering the stolen painting, not in helping Sam haul in the larger net he’d cast. “We checked his packages when they returned to the ship. No painting. We’re checking what security camera footage we can to track his movements after leaving the gallery.”
“And turn up the heat on Bellamy. Michaels likely skipped the country after hearing Jennifer survived being pushed into the river, afraid Bellamy would give him up. If Bellamy learns his cash flow has dried up, maybe he’ll start talking.”
The agent bobbed his head from side to side as if the theory didn’t jibe. Or maybe he was just irritated that none of this would help him locate the missing painting. “We’re checking flights, got a BOLO on Michaels’s car, but his credit card was clean. No charges on it since he disappeared yesterday afternoon.”
“Talk to his son?”
“Not yet, but the background check you requested on him came back clean.”
“Okay.” Sam blew out a breath. “So do we think someone took Reg out?”
“Haven’t found any evidence of it, but if he’s mixed up with the mob, who knows?”
Yeah, Sam needed to seal Jennifer’s trust and figure out what was really going on in the Robbins Gallery before it was too late.
* * *
“You two get your picture taken.” Cass pushed Jen and Sam toward the backdrop the ship’s professional photographer had set up in the wide hall.
“That’s okay,” Jen said when the photographer turned eager eyes their way. From how adamantly Sam had resisted his mom’s attempts to get him in on the family picture, he clearly didn’t like the idea of his picture on display for the rest of the passengers to see.
Sam’s mother motioned to a second backdrop the photographer wasn’t using. “Stand over here then.”
To Jen’s surprise, Sam obliged. It was another formal night and he looked heart-stutteringly gorgeous in a black tux in front of the glacier-blue backdrop.
He lifted his hand toward her. “I promise not to bite.”
Jake gave her a little push. Sam caught her hand and whirled her to his side as Sam’s mom and Cass snapped photos.
“Hey, I wasn’t smiling.”
“The gentleman was smiling enough for the both of you.” The professional photographer stepped forward and positioned their hands and chins into a formal pose.
“Oh, we really don’t—”
Mrs. Steele caught the photographer’s arm and pointed him to a couple eagerly waiting for him at the other backdrop. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Sam whispered close to Jen’s ear, his breath lifting the wisps escaping her updo.
“No talking,” Cass said, her gaze on her camera screen, her finger continuously clicking the button.
Tommy bounced up and down, tugging on his father’s arm. “Hurry. We’re going to miss the show.”
Cass lowered her camera. “All done.”
Sam’s mom and dad strolled ahead of them looking every bit as in love as they probably had on their wedding day, forty years ago tonight.
Jen was glad Sam had talked her out of hiding in her cabin all night. After being sideswiped by that reporter’s questions, she hadn’t felt up to celebrating. And it hadn’t helped that they’d had no better success than the reporter in tracking Reggie down by phone. Cass had managed to get hold of his son, Blake, who’d tried to reassure her that his father had probably had an opportunity for a sweet deal and took off without thinking to leave word. Of course, the kind of sweet deal that would lure him away was what worried Jen. But thankfully Cass didn’t blabber about Jen’s suspicions the way she had to Sam, just about the reporter’s fishing expedition.
Blake had promised to try to find his father and do what damage control he could. Their aunt Martha, however, was more reticent. Not that they’d expected her to know where Reggie was; the couple had divorced soon after Jen and Cass left for college. But her warnings to be careful suggested she knew more than she was saying.
Jen refocused on Sam’s much-happier parents. When she and Cass added their voices to Sam and Jake’s “Happy Anniversary” song at dinner, she’d been transported back to long-ago celebrations with their own parents. Mom and Dad had been so in love, too. If only she and Cass could be as fortunate to find men who would love them for themselves, not their money or status.
Sam twined his fingers between hers. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“I was just thinking how happy your parents look and remembering my own.”
“I wish they could be here for your and Cassie’s birthday celebration.”
The sincerity in his voice squeezed her chest, making her forget all the reasons why she shouldn’t be letting her heart turn somersaults around him. “Having your family celebrate with us will make it very special.” And having those pictures would be a bittersweet reminder of how special.
Spotting the ladies’ room outside the lounge where the comedic magician would be performing, she quickly excused herself.
Cass trailed her in and grinned at Jen’s reflection. “You’ll thank me later when you see the great shots I got of you two.”
“I can’t believe you did that to me.”
Cass elbowed Jen’s arm. “Oh, c’mon, why not? You like him, don’t you?”
“That’s not the point. He lives on the other side of the country.” Jen dug in her purse for her lip gloss, trying not to think about how much she’d miss Sam after this trip.
“Oh, brother, Jen. People can change jobs. Move. Don’t blow this before you take the time to see if you two could be more than a shipboard romance.”
“This from the self-proclaimed fling queen.”
“Hey, I’m totally up-front with guys about what I’m in a relationship for. You’re the one who’s a bundle of mixed messages.”
Jen glared at her sister’s reflection. “I am not.”
Cass quirked an eyebrow.
Jen gave up on finding the lip gloss and spun toward Cass. “You’d be a mess, too, if you’d been drugged, half-drowned and dragged out by some lunatic who has it in for rich women.”
Cass’s grin instantly fell. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”
Jen worried her bottom lip. If Cass really wanted to help, she’d agree to sell her half of the gallery. But Jen bit back the urge to say so. They were celebrating the Steeles’ anniversary tonight. Family arguments could wait until morning. “We’d better get back.”
Sam stood alone in the hallway. The appreciative glint in his eye, as they emerged, warmed her cheeks.
Oh, boy, she seriously needed to start pulling away before her heart got any more entangled. “Did the others go in already?”
“Yeah. I asked them to save us seats. They were filling up fast.” He rested his palm at the small of her back. But instead of sending her stomach into another somersault routine, his touch silenced her frazzled thoughts, which should’ve unnerved her even more.
The two-story arena, with its second level a wide balcony overlooking the stage, had subdued lighting and leather-upholstered chairs flanking small tables, giving it a definite “lounge” feel—a place for adults. “Are you sure this show will be appropriate for Tommy?”
“I hope so. It’s billed as family friendly and the kid’s been keyed up about seeing it ever since he saw the poster on the announcement board.”
Jake stood in the center of the room and waved them over. Cass must’ve taken to heart their discussion in the ladies’ room, because rather than taking the empty seat next to Jake she sat in one of the pair of empty ones, leaving no way for Jen to sit next to Sam without someone else moving.
Disappointment flickered over Sam’s brow, but he took the seat beside his brother without comment.
The cruise director introduced tonight’s talent as coming all the way from Florida, after which the man took a bow at center stage and swept off his top hat. A dove flew out and Tommy clapped wildly.
“Florida. Imagine how much this guy has to travel,” Jen said to the table in general. “I don’t think I could stand that.”
“Me, either.” Mrs. Steele patted her son’s hand. “We don’t get to see Sam nearly as much as we’d like because of his job.”
“Any chance you’d ever settle back in the Seattle area, Sam?” Cass asked with a practiced innocence Jen recognized all too well.
“Cass.” She kicked her sister in the ankle.
Sam’s melt-in-your-mouth chocolate-brown eyes came to rest on Jen. “It’s possible.”
Jake snorted. “That’s what they say about world peace too.”
Sam shot his brother a sideways look. Jen couldn’t see it, but there was no mistaking the pop in the muscle in his cheek. He clearly didn’t appreciate his brother’s commentary.
Jake held up his hands in innocence. “I just call ’em like I see ’em.”
Sam’s mother squeezed his hand. “It would be wonderful to have you home again.”
Sam’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, as if maybe more than his job kept him away. Yet he’d intimated that with the right incentive he might move back. An incentive like her?
She dropped her gaze to her soda glass. Did she want to be an incentive?
She enjoyed spending time with the Steeles, would miss them terribly when the cruise ended. They were so warm and gracious and everything she longed for in a family. And Sam... He was thoughtful and protective and seemed to take a genuine interest in her. Her, not her bank account.
Of course, she’d been fooled before. She watched Sam scoop Tommy into his lap, giving his nephew a better view of the stage. He grinned at the boy’s excitement and tousled his hair affectionately. No, Sam was nothing like Ian.
A low vibration sound snagged Sam’s attention to his pocket. He checked the screen on his phone, then set Tommy on his chair. “It’s the Skagway police department. I asked them to call if they had any news. Excuse me. I’ll step into the hall to take this where it’s quiet.”
Mrs. Steele patted Jen’s clasped hands, drawing attention to her white knuckles. “Why don’t you go with him? I’m sure you’re anxious to hear the report.”
“Yes. Excuse me.” She found Sam standing next to one of the windows that lined the wide hall. He looked out at the water, listening intently to whoever was on the other end of the phone. She touched his elbow so he’d know she was there but couldn’t read his expression to know if the news was good.
What seemed like an eternity later, he finally turned off his phone.
“What’d they say?”
“They confirmed the pills they found in Bellamy’s shaving kit were roofies.”
Her breath swept from her lungs in utter relief. “So I can stop worrying about everything I eat or drink. Did he confess to pushing me into the river, too?”
The muscles in Sam’s jaw tensed. They did that a lot, she’d noticed, when he had to tell her something he’d rather not. “He hasn’t confessed to anything. But the ship’s card-scanning software confirmed he was off the ship at the time. There were no charges to his credit card, however, to confirm his whereabouts.”
“So they still have no idea why he targeted me?” Shivering, she hugged herself, wishing she’d brought a wrap.
“No, I’m sorry. The detective in Seattle is interrogating his brother. Hopefully he can shed some light on the situation.”
“I don’t get it. If Bellamy’s so hard up for cash, how’d he afford the cruise?”
“Apparently his lady friend sprang for it after she’d had a rewarding night with him at the casino just outside Seattle. She said she thought he was her lucky charm. But he hasn’t proved so lucky for her this trip. She’s already racked up a couple thousand in losses at the onboard casino.”
Jen’s throat instantly dried. “Is she still aboard? Did she know what he was up to?”
“She claimed not.” Sam turned his phone over and over in his hand, as if he wasn’t convinced, or...
“The police didn’t let Bellamy go, did they?”
“No. No,” Sam repeated, as if suddenly realizing his edgy movements had roused the fear. He caught her hand. “He’s been flown to a correctional facility in Juneau to await his bail hearing.”
“So if he makes bail, he could be back?” She hated the quiver in her voice.
“The captain has banned him from reboarding. Besides, we’re cruising Glacier Bay tomorrow and won’t stop at another port until Ketchikan the morning after.” At her relieved sigh, Sam rubbed her upper arms. “When the detective asked you about the papers in Bellamy’s room, why didn’t you tell him about the stolen painting you found at your gallery?”
“I was scared. You saw what vultures the reporters become when circling for a story.”
Sam’s gaze radiated compassion. “I want to help you.”
“And I appreciate that. I appreciate that you didn’t force my hand this afternoon.”
An emotion she couldn’t read flickered in his eyes as his hands slipped from her arms. “Those reporter’s questions aren’t going to go away.”
“Why do you care so much, Sam?”
That muscle in his jaw started working again. “You don’t deserve what’s been happening to you.”
Her heart grew strangely heavy at his answer. They’d known each other less than two weeks. She lifted her chin. What had she expected him to say?
Because I care about you. Yeah, she would have liked to hear him say that. It had been a long, long time since she’d felt like anyone cared what happened to her.
Sam whisked his thumb across her cheek. Her wet cheek.
Mortified, she swiped at her eyes.
He cupped her face in his hands. “And because I care about you, Jen.”
Tears clogged her throat at his tender declaration. Oh, Lord, please don’t let it be just a line he pulled out of his hat to entertain me like the magician back there.
Their gazes tangled. His head dipped closer, his gaze not letting go of hers. Then his eyes slipped shut an instant before his lips found hers. Soft, gentle. His fingers glided through her hair and cradled her neck.
