Read Gone Tropical Online

Authors: Robena Grant

Tags: #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Action-Suspense

Gone Tropical (17 page)

He kissed her forehead and held her until she could get some control over her shaking. He kept whispering stuff to her, comforting stuff she couldn’t quite hear, but finally she calmed down. He felt so good, so solid and right. Then she remembered he didn’t trust her. But then, she hadn’t been honest either. Confused, she looked into his eyes. Was he using reverse psychology on her, providing comfort, so he could get her to spill the beans? Not that there were many beans to spill. And what would she do with those beans by herself anyway?

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded and moved out of his arms, away from the truck, away from the black jeep.

She stared up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful, inky black and full of stars.”

“Starry, starry night,” he whispered close to her ear. “We better get our fill now, storms rolling in.” He nodded back to the east, to the crest of the mountain range of dense rainforest that separated the coast from Bungumby Lodge. “I told everyone we’d do the after-dinner drinks thing tomorrow night. Diana will be here then.”

“Good,” Amy said, relieved she didn’t have to explain to Kirstie just yet. Maybe Sarge would. The girl should be told so she could be alert to strangers and anything suspicious. She was fourteen, nearly fifteen, and smart.

Jake gave a tug on her hand. “We have the cabin to ourselves,” he said. “Want a glass of wine? We could sit on the verandah…talk…look at the stars…watch the storm roll in.”

****

Stuart settled himself into a low chair on the verandah opposite Amy’s cabin and tried to ignore the rumbles in his stomach. He gazed toward the approaching storm. They’d have to work fast.

Hadi had caught him hitchhiking along the highway and made him get into Col’s black jeep. Funny, the power a Glock had. Hadi hadn’t ditched him, but now he was pissed at himself for revealing what he knew. Hadi decided it was his place to check into the lodge. He secured them a cabin and said it was too risky for Stuart to be seen. However, he’d promised he would get him a meal either through room service, or he’d order a steak to go.

If it hadn’t been for the damn Glock Hadi kept waving in front of his face, Stuart figured he could have taken the guy. He wasn’t into violence. Not anymore. But he’d been a scrapper back in the day and knew he could still defend himself. Instead, he’d watched Amy enter the dining room. Hadi had left shortly afterward. He was bored, and hungry, but more bored than anything. Hadi had said Col wanted them to use no violence, just scare the hell out of the people and make them leave. Then Stuart would be able to stay on for a bit with Meg and get to know the parents. He smiled at the thought.

Scare tactics?
He dwelled on that for a moment.
A snake, there’s an idea
.

Would Pete the python still be there? The snake had spent the night in the tree last night, curling itself around a branch. Well, he had no fear of snakes and had often talked to Amy about that, and while she’d always claimed she liked snakes, he’d never put her to a test. And there’d be the whole thing of wanting to protect the kid. It’d be a start, he could think of other things later. He stood and noticed the storm clouds moving in rapidly from the ocean. Pity the radio wasn’t working. All he’d been able to get was static.

Last he’d heard on the car radio, a warning had gone out to all seafarers. Or so the announcer had said. There was even talk of a bloody cyclone. Those bastards had a mind of their own. You never knew where they’d touch down. Look at the devastation Larry caused. Wiped out banana plantations up and down the state. Hell, you couldn’t buy a kilo of bananas for less than fifteen dollars these days. He’d like a banana. Hell, he’d like anything to eat.

He grabbed a torch from Hadi’s backpack and picked up an empty brown paper grocery sack. He jogged down the main path and ducked underneath the brush to reach the unmarked path. He flashed a stream of light ahead of him for a few seconds, just enough so he could locate the fallen log. It was darker than hell down here. Creatures rustled in the underbrush, but he ignored them. It was unsafe to jog, too many exposed roots of the trees. He stumbled, swore loudly and flashed the torch beam for a few seconds.

He found the tree.
Fanbloodytastic!
Pete was there. He approached. Lifted the healthy reptile up, slipped him into the paper sack and closed over the top.
Sucker was heavy, must have had his dinner. Lucky bastard.

“You’ll be okay, Pete. You’re going to a party,” Stuart said and snickered.

He’d have to climb up the stilts at the back of the verandah of Amy’s cabin, no problem. He wasn’t as buff as the guy Amy was with, but he worked out daily and for his age was still in good nick. Beneath the cabin, he scanned the area. All was clear. Not a sound to be heard. Not a person visible. Everyone must still be in the dining room. He gripped the folded down top of the paper grocery sack in his teeth, planted it firmly between his chest and the wooden stilt, locked his legs around the pole and climbed up. Not many sophisticated financial managers in Los Angeles who could do that.

Growing up in Australia, dirt poor, the only kid of the little town Anglican minister and his devoted wife gave him skills the soft accountant type would never have. He pulled himself to the top and put the bag on the verandah. Once over the railing he dropped to a crouch, and when he righted himself he almost clapped his hands. They’d left the sliding doors open. He’d hoped to jimmy the lock, but this was a breeze.

He crawled forward nudging the bag in front of him. He’d go back to Hadi’s cabin after this, get his dinner. Then he’d sit on the verandah across the clearing and wait for the shrieks. He opened the screen on the sliding doors, remained crouched, and shook open the bag.

“Off you go, Pete. Have fun,” Stuart whispered.

Voices sounded in the clearing, and he lay on his belly, peering through the slats. Okay, the other bloke, the kid, and the middle-aged woman came along underneath the light. No sign of Amy and her guy. He’d have time to escape once this group turned the corner of the walkway.

He waited. Checked the clearing one more time, grabbed the paper sack and slid down over the verandah railing, and dropped to the grass below. He walked to the cabin on the opposite side. A small strip of light showed around the edges of the shutters. Good, Hadi was in. Tonight, he’d eat steak.

Chapter Fourteen

Amy didn’t think it was the wine talking, although she did have a nice little buzz going. She and Jake sat side by side on the deck chairs, looking at the stars, holding hands, her legs propped up on the verandah railing. She took another sip of wine.

It had all been innocent conversation, nothing deep at first. Just the type of books and movies they enjoyed. Where they liked to vacation; what countries they’d love to visit. Typical first date information, she supposed. They’d just done things differently and had sex first. They hardly knew each other, and yet she felt she knew Jake better than any guy she’d spent months dating, or spending the occasional weekend with.

“I’m going inside in a minute,” she said, wrestling with how much to tell him, or whether or not she should divulge anything at all. She drew her legs down from the railing.

“I want to ask you a question,” Jake said and dropped her hand. He ran a hand over his head. “Ah…if you don’t mind.”

Damn
. Here it is…the real reason why we’re talking. He wants info. She’d noticed in therapy sessions, as the session drew to a close, the patient always started to hit on the issues that worried them most.

“When you talked about nightmares and stuff,” Jake said and stared into the rainforest. “I was thinking about my partner and fear…and, well, there was something else…but I’m not really sure if it’s connected.”

Amy straightened and put down her wine glass. He was asking for personal help? He really did want to talk, she’d totally misjudged him. The non-trusting part of her personality had reared its ugly head again. She wondered if she’d ever outgrow her insecurities with men. She’d figured he’d quiz her on Firth and instead he was confiding, getting personal, getting closer. “Tell me everything,” she said softly.

“It’s to do with my mother and her death.” His whole body tensed. He stopped speaking and stared off into the dark of the forest again.

“How old were you, Jake?”

“Twenty.”

“Were you living at home?”

“Yes. My mother raised me. Single parent, I never knew my father.”

“Was your mother ill for a long time?”

He glanced at her, and she saw the raw pain in his eyes. “No, it was a traffic accident on the 405 freeway. She died instantly.”

This was worse than she’d imagined. She’d figured haunting memories from having worked LAPD. But this was horrible. She reached over and took his hand in hers. “Were you with her in the car?”

He shook his head and gazed up at the sky. “Storms coming in.”

Amy followed his gaze, turning her face up to the black clouds quickly blotting out the stars. She waited for him to collect his thoughts and continue.

“That was the problem,” he said. “The thing I can’t get past. She’d asked me to go with her to do some holiday shopping.”

It was getting cold and she gripped her upper arm for warmth, not letting go of Jake’s hand. She couldn’t go inside yet, there was a rule of thumb in therapy, don’t interrupt once the patient’s story has started to unravel.

“It was raining,” Jake said. “I didn’t want to go. We argued. I hated shopping. She went alone, and I never saw her again.”

Oh, God, poor Jake
. He blamed himself, and he’d never gotten to say goodbye. He’d grown quiet now, deep in thought. It was time for a gentle nudge back on track.

“So, you’re asking if this is connected to the nightmares after the death of your partner?”

Jake grimaced and took a sip of wine. His face was clouded with pain, and he rubbed the top of his head with his knuckles. Amy wanted to hold him. Love him. Cradle him in her arms.

“I’d never thought about it before, but after you were talking earlier…”

Amy squeezed his hand. “You probably repressed most of the pain from your mother’s death. Then when your partner died it started to come back in the form of nightmares.”

He nodded.

“We can’t solve everything now, tonight, but you’re on the right track. The connections are based on situations, horrible painful life situations that were out of your control. Decisions you made that caused you to feel guilty, and to question your actions.”

He nodded again and she saw him gulp.

“Neither situation was your fault, Jake. It’s hard, but you need to examine each situation. If you’d been with your mother you probably would have been killed. If you’d stayed with your partner she’d have died anyway, and the suspects would have lived to do more harm to others.”

“Thanks Amy. This really helps. I know I’ve got a long way to go, but somehow just talking about it…”

“I know,” she said softly and shivered. “Get all of your demons out, air them, let them see the light of day by discussing them and they’ll lose their power over you.”

He leaned over and dropped a sweet kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to take a very hot five-second shower,” she said. “I’m chilled to the bone.”

Jake released her hand. She saw the glimmer of a smile in the darkness. “Take your time. I’ll be in soon.”

He hadn’t tried to get passionate. But he’d kissed her fingertips and held her hand. Somehow the stars, the approaching storm and the wine, then the conversation, well, it was more erotic than this afternoon’s session. She wondered if she could help him, and thought of her own problems and how she still battled with those. She’d never told anyone of her overwhelming guilt. If she reached out to him maybe they could help each other.

Problems aside, she wanted to make love to Jake. Really make love, slowly, tenderly. Feel him inside of her, feel the weight of him on her, smell his musky smell, and taste his skin. She trembled at the thought. The psychic’s words were right. When she’d been younger she’d dated the wild boys to be rebellious, but secretly she’d known her choices were not good. She’d falsely believed she could change a man if she loved him enough.

Hah! Like that ever happened
!

Then along came Firth and she’d known deep down he wasn’t all he professed to be. But she’d worked hard to gain him family approval despite the fact she didn’t completely trust him. She toweled dry after the shower and pulled on pj’s. She’d have to tell Jake she’d been teasing him, and she wasn’t a sex therapist. If she didn’t trust Jake then she couldn’t make love to him. And she wanted to make love.

“Holy shit!” Jake yelled from outside the bathroom door.

Amy pushed the door open, her heart pounding. Jake stood in the middle of the room, barefoot, in only his boxer shorts, his eyes wide. He raised a hand. “Stop! Don’t move,” he said.

Amy stood still her eyes fixed on his face. “What is it?”

“Snake,” he said, and pointed to the floor near the bed.

He was pale and his eyes were wide. Amy was sure he was sweating. She backed up a few steps and the three- or four-foot-long snake slithered from alongside the bed.

“It’s a green snake, a tree snake, Jake,” she said softly. “It isn’t poisonous.”

“I’ll get it,” he said. “My knife is in the bathroom.”

“You can’t kill it.”

“Well, what the hell else will I do with it?”

“I’ll pick it up and release it back to the rainforest.”

Jake stared at her for a moment like she’d totally flipped out. “Stay there, you will not pick it up.” He shook his finger at her and glared. “I’ll get something…I know, the wastepaper basket in the bathroom. Maybe I can capture it…let me see.”

“I know you hate snakes,” she said softly. “It’s no problem for me to get it.”

“I said, I’ll do it.” Jake backed into the bathroom.

Okay, so he suffered with ophidiophobia, along with nightmares, and other shit. She shook her head, the guy she was falling in love with was a wreck. She knew how to help him, but first she’d have to get rid of the snake. She picked up the reptile and stroked it. Slipped on her flip-flops and took off, leaving the cabin door open behind her. This must be hard for Jake. He was so strong in other ways, so manly. She’d noticed the waves of revulsion as they’d swept through his body. It was a deep phobia. She’d helped many children with similar problems, by using hypnosis.

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