Perilous Waters, page 9
His stomach wrenched into knots. How could he protect Jen from her own sister?
* * *
Catching herself twisting her hands in her lap, Jen splayed her fingers over her thighs and took another deep breath. “I already told you that I wouldn’t know. I don’t get involved with the gallery’s business.”
“I’m trying to help you, Miss Robbins,” Detective Reed reiterated.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Sam returned to the room, and the detective’s gaze lifted to his for a moment.
Reed flipped to a clean page in her notebook. “Who knew you’d be on this particular excursion today?”
Jennifer let out a frustrated sigh. There was obviously no escaping the woman’s questions. And maybe she was in serious denial to want to.
“Miss Robbins?”
Jennifer flung up her arms in frustration. “I don’t know. Whichever crew members have access to that information, Sam here, his brother and parents. Nobody who’d want to kill me!”
“Did a travel agent handle the booking?”
“I don’t know. The cruise was a gift from our uncle. My sis—ter...booked the excursions.” Jen’s gaze snapped to Sam’s. It couldn’t be Cass.
The office door jerked open and Cassie stumbled in, followed by Jake.
Jennifer sprang to her feet.
“Jen, are you okay?” Cassie flung her arms around her. Her breath stank of beer. She wore a skintight tank and leather miniskirt that she’d promised Jennifer she’d leave at home in favor of more modest choices.
Jen disentangled herself from her sister’s arms. “What have you been doing?”
“Oh, Jen, I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. Jake told me what happened,” she slurred. “I feel terrible.”
Sam looked as if he could spit nails. “Where’d you find her?”
“The bar,” Jake muttered. “She had quite an entourage buying her drinks.” Jake reported, amazingly without a hint of the disgust he must feel.
“Never mind that.” Cass stroked Jen’s hair, looking genuinely worried. “Are you okay?”
Jen’s stomach roiled at the reek of beer. She pushed her away. “I thought you were sick, Cass. That’s why you didn’t come on the excursion. Remember? What were you doing at the bar?”
“I started feeling better and I got bored.” She shrugged. “I lost track of time or I woulda been in the room when you got back.”
“Five hours ago?” Sam seethed, his tone colder than the Mendenhall River. “’Cause that’s when you should have expected her.”
Jennifer’s heart rate took off at a gallop. Sam’s words—sometimes we don’t know people as well as we think we do—streaked through her mind. He suspected Cass!
But Cass couldn’t be behind the attacks. She wouldn’t. Sure, she planned the excursions, and then...insisted Jen go on her own because she was too sick.
Jennifer shook her head. No, her sister wouldn’t plot to kill her.
Except... What if Uncle Reggie had so corrupted her he’d convinced her that Jen needed to die?
No! The idea was ridiculous. Cass could never be party to killing her only flesh and blood.
“I’m sorry, Jen,” Cass purred. “You know how I lose track of time when I’m occupied. I knew you’d be safe with Sa-a-am.” She gave Sam’s name two extra syllables and twirled his shirt collar with her finger.
Sam caught Cass’s finger and gave her a hard stare. “Your sister could have died. Do you understand that?”
“I—” Cass whimpered, her expression crumbling.
Jake grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away from his brother. “Take it easy, Sam. It’s not as if Cass pushed her.”
Great, now her problems were putting Sam and his brother at odds. Although she had to admit his indignation felt really sweet.
Sam’s eyes shot daggers at his brother. Clearly he suspected that Cass had been drinking to drown a guilty conscience, but unfortunately, Cass in this condition was nothing new.
“Are we done, Detective?” Jennifer asked quietly, eager to get away before the detective got the same idea.
The woman glanced at her watch. “Once this ship sails, so does any further chance of my helping you.”
Jen cringed. “I understand.”
“Okay.” Reed closed her notebook and shot a glance Cass’s way before adding, “Watch your back.”
Sam lagged behind to have a word with the detective.
Cass looped her arm through Jennifer’s. “What do you say we go to the all-you-can-eat buffet? I’m starved.”
“It’s almost nine o’clock, Cass.” And despite her long rest in the hospital, she was bone tired from answering the detective’s questions. A sensation of being watched made her skin tingle. She glanced around the lobby, up the open staircases to the other levels overlooking it.
“So...” Cass carried on. “The buffet’s open all night.”
“Count me out. I promised Tommy I’d take him to watch the movie under the stars,” Jake glanced at his watch. “And it starts in fifteen minutes. I’ll see you later.”
Jennifer waved after him. “Thanks for finding my sister for me, Jake.”
He threw a grin her direction. “Anytime.”
Sam rejoined them and agreed to dinner more readily than she’d expected after his blowup at Cass.
“I kind of thought you’d rather we order room service and stay out of sight until the police catch whoever pushed me.”
Sam’s gaze slanted momentarily in Cass’s direction as he guided them to the elevator. “I’m not ready to let you out of my sight.”
He made it sound romantic, but the protective edge to his voice said he was dead serious. She cringed at her word choice.
Cass wouldn’t look at him. No doubt she was still smarting from his scolding. Seeing her sister’s condition tonight only reinforced Jen’s fears of what would become of Cass if she didn’t coax her out of the art gallery business. Unfortunately, her condition also proved how tainted she’d already become.
Please, Lord, don’t let her be too tainted to listen to reason.
Stepping into the spacious buffet room at the bow of the ship, Sam handed Jen a plate. She meandered past the salad bar without really seeing the food. After she passed the appetizers, too, her plate empty save for a bread stick, Sam elbowed her. “If we’re going to switch plates tonight I hope you’re going to put a lot more than that on yours.”
She smiled. “I think I’ll feel safe eating from my own plate tonight.” Her gaze skittered around the near-empty dining area. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to feel safe any time soon.
They settled at a table with a view of the harbor. In another hour they’d be able to watch the ship slip back out to sea, thanks to the infamous Alaskan midnight sun. And for how jittery her insides felt, Jen was pretty sure she’d still be wide awake.
The sight of someone using a cell phone on the outside deck reminded her that she’d never gotten hold of the PI. She reached into her pocket only to shake her head at her silliness. How could she have forgotten that she wasn’t even wearing the same clothes?
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
“I just realized that I must have lost my cell phone when I fell in the river.”
He reached into his pocket. “You’re welcome to use mine.”
“No, that’s okay.” She waved off his offer. “I lost the number with it.” And she didn’t feel like asking the art gallery curator a third time for the stupid thing. Maybe God was trying to tell her something...like don’t call the PI.
“What’s the name?” He pulled up the internet. “I can look it up.”
“It’s fine. It can wait until I get back to Seattle.” She hoped.
“What excursion is your family taking tomorrow?” Cass asked, as if a giant monkey wrench hadn’t just been tossed into their plans.
Sam stopped sawing the beef slab he’d been working on and met Jen’s gaze. “Whichever one you’re on...if you feel up to it.”
“Of course she’ll feel up to it,” Cass gushed. “I can’t miss another tour!”
After the way he’d seen Cass tonight, Jennifer was sure the last place Jake would want to be tomorrow was on a tour with her sister. He’d just been being nice with that “anytime” quip. Not to mention Jen needed some alone time with Cass if she was going to have any chance of convincing her to sell.
“Um.” Jennifer shuffled the food around on her plate before finally spearing a pickle. “I thought we had an appointment in Skagway to pick something up for Uncle Reggie.”
Cass sloughed off her concern with a flip of her hand. “We’ll have plenty of time. The ship won’t leave port until eight.”
“That means we have to be back on by seven.”
“It won’t be a problem. The train gets back into Skagway by midafternoon. We’re booked on the White Pass Summit Excursion. It’s a scenic railway that takes us all the way to the summit.”
Jen’s insides tumbled. Summit? “I don’t think I’ll feel up—”
“We have to go, Jen. It’ll be fun. Take your mind off what happened.”
What happened. What happened? Could Cass really be so oblivious to how serious this was? Did she think what happened today was nothing worse than when their raft capsized in high school?
She’d clearly missed the fact the river water was glacial and she had been pushed in by an attacker. “You know, Cass, even you, with all your high school swimming medals, wouldn’t have been able to swim long in that frigid water today.”
Cass frowned. “How wide a river are we talking?”
“What does it matter?” Jen blurted then immediately lowered her voice. “You don’t seem to get that someone wants me dead.”
EIGHT
Unable to sleep for worrying about leaving Jen alone with her sister, Sam slipped out onto the balcony. The foghorn blared a long, lonely sound. It was 5 a.m., and it had already been light for hours, but that didn’t stop the damp, chilly air from seeping through his clothes.
He zipped up the windbreaker he’d thrown on and squinted in the direction Skagway should be.
The mist rolling over the water obscured the view of land, kind of how he felt about this case—if he didn’t get his bearings soon, he might just run aground. The fact that almost getting killed hadn’t been enough to convince Jen to divulge her secrets made it look as though she was as neck deep in the art fraud as her sister and guardian.
His mind flipped back to last night. Who had Jen wanted to call?
Clearly someone she hadn’t wanted him, or maybe her sister, to know about. Because his background check had offered no indication of a significant other in her life, he suspected John Watson, the PI, whose number she’d gotten from the gallery curator. He wanted to believe she had the PI’s number because she was as anxious to get to the truth as he was.
But he was running out of time. If she and her sister walked out of the gallery this afternoon with the stolen painting, the local feds would arrest them both before they had enough information to tie the sale to Michaels.
He thumbed his boss’s number on his cell phone and sank onto the lounge chair, listening to the water lap against the ship’s hull and the low hum of the engines. “Learn anything more on the mob connection?” he asked when his boss came on the line. If the smuggling was connected to organized crime and Jen had stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, they could be looking at a hit man who came to Juneau to do the job the waiter messed up.
“Our informant said he hadn’t heard about any double cross that would compel the family to take revenge on your suspect.”
Sam cringed at the reference to Jen as a suspect. She might be keeping secrets, but she didn’t throw herself into the river.
On the other side of the balcony divider, a scuffle erupted.
“Gotta go,” he hissed into the phone then crammed it into his pocket.
“No, no. Stay away.”
Fire shot through his veins at Jen’s muffled plea. He scaled the balcony rail and started to swing around the partition. At the sight of her wrestling a blanket in her lounge chair, he stopped short. “Jen,” he said softly, crouched on the rail at the partition separating their balconies.
She flailed her arms and whipped from side to side, her moans rising in panic.
He jumped onto her balcony and hunkered down at her side. “Jen,” he whispered. “It’s just a dream.”
Perspiration beaded her forehead as she continued to flail about.
He clasped her arms through the blanket. “Jen,” he said more firmly. “You’re okay. Wake up.” What was she doing sleeping out here anyway?
He glanced through the balcony door at her darkened room and uneasiness rippled through his chest. Was she afraid to sleep in the same room as her sister? More afraid of her sister than her balcony-climbing prowler?
Her eyes squeezed tighter, her face contorted in anguish.
He smoothed the hair from her face. “Jen, honey, you need to wake up.” His heart double-Dutched at the endearment. He jerked his hand back to his side. What was he doing?
Her eyes flew open. “Sam?” Her gaze jumped from him to the partition to the balcony door to the wall of fog beyond the rail and back to him. “What are you doing here?”
“You cried out. I thought you were in trouble.”
“I must’ve been dreaming.” She tugged her blankets to her chin.
He stroked the lines they’d made on her cheek. “Why are you sleeping out here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw his face, saw him lunging toward me.” She shivered.
Against his better judgment, Sam folded her in his arms. He couldn’t help himself. She looked utterly stricken. He wanted to say “It’s okay. You’re safe now.” But he didn’t know that. In fact, he doubted it with every ounce of his being. This was no act to dupe him into sympathizing with her. She trembled against his chest and he tightened his hold.
“Why did he do it?” she mumbled. “Why?”
This was his chance to get the information he needed, to breach her defenses while her guard was down. Later he could hate himself for taking advantage of her vulnerability.
“Why do you think, Jen?” He loosened his embrace but continued to hold her in his arms. Her vanilla scent replaced the salty mist filling his nostrils. Her warmth... He jerked his thoughts back to his question.
She shook her head against his chest. “I don’t know.”
They’d already been down this road. He needed to coax her to face the suspicions she was too afraid to voice. “What’s changed in your life recently?”
He clasped her arms and set her back from him, enough to look into her eyes. Her pure blue eyes, the color made all the more vivid thanks to the moisture pooling there.
“Nothing.” She answered without pausing to think, so he waited. He could see in her eyes the thoughts whirring through her mind.
She ducked her head. “Nothing. Same job. Same apartment. Same church. Same friends.”
“You’re turning twenty-five. You’re telling me you haven’t thought about making a change or two in your life?”
A muscle in her cheek ticked. “I’m not desperate to find a husband, if that’s what you mean.”
He chuckled. “Not what I meant.” He waited, not about to reveal that he knew the significance of her twenty-fifth birthday.
She squirmed under his steady gaze. The ship’s engines wound down, signaling their arrival at the dock.
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “On our twenty-fifth birthday, Cass and I gain control over our parents’ estate.”
Sam whistled as if this were news to him, even though she’d alluded to as much at the art auction. “That’s a biggie.”
“Yeah. I want to sell the gallery, something our guardian has always refused to consider. Now that the choice will be ours, I’d hoped to convince Cass to sell, too.”
Because of the gallery’s illegal dealings? Did she think she could escape charges by getting out?
“You think I’m terrible, don’t you?”
He jerked back, unnerved that she seemed to have read his thoughts. “No, why would you say that?”
“Because it was our parents’ baby.” Guilt colored her voice.
He knew all about not living up to family expectations. “You need to do what’s right for you. Be where God wants you to be.” His chest tightened at that last part. He’d meant it to prick her conscience, not his own.
“You’re right.” She looked at him with a seemingly new appreciation. “Except...I’m not sure where that is, but my heart has never been in Seattle. We used to live in a small rural community. Mom would sell commissioned pieces and teach private art classes. Dad managed a store. Life was simple. People were real.”
“What happened?”
“Mom got discovered and our life changed overnight.” Melancholy edged her words. “We moved to the city, started the gallery and the new life consumed them. We used to do things together, go to church, visit with friends afterward. Real friends.”
Inside the cabin, Cass stirred. He didn’t have much time. But Jen’s motive was becoming clearer than ever. “When did you tell Cass you wanted to sell?” If the attacks started soon after...
“I haven’t yet.”
Okay, not what he expected to hear. “Who have you told?”
“I made discreet inquiries, hoping to quietly find a buyer before I talked to Cassie.”
“And have you found a buyer?”
“Yes, last week. I’d planned to tell Cass at the restaurant—that night my car was vandalized—but she was going on about the cruise Reggie had just surprised us with and I never got the chance.”
