Lethal Affair. Jean Pichon Thomas
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let me go with you.”
And have her feel all day like she was a prisoner, like she did last night? Not a chance.
“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll be fine on my own,” she insisted. “It isn’t far to town, and with its being downhill all the way, it should be a pleasant stroll.”
“But if you should be tired when you are ready to come back...”
“Then I’ll just grab a taxi,” she assured him brightly, hoping he understood that, behind the brightness, was a stubborn determination that would permit no further opposition.
Brenna could feel him gazing after her unhappily when she left him and headed toward the villa.
Too bad. Because, like it or not, my friend, I mean to be free of you, at least for today and maybe all the other days I’m here on the island. And you can just report that to your employer and see where it gets you.
Breakfast was waiting for her on the terrace. Marcus was not.
Brenna must have looked puzzled by his absence, because the round-faced, plump housekeeper who was clearing his place at the table informed her, “If you are looking for Mr. Bradley, miss, I am sorry to tell you he has already gone to the place of the building of the resort. He is to meet the architect there at an early hour, you understand.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter, Gilda. I didn’t need to see him for anything.”
Actually, Brenna was relieved that Marcus wasn’t here. He would have wanted to know what her plans were for the day, and she didn’t want to have to lie to him again. He would learn eventually, anyway, from Julio that she’d insisted on going off on her own.
Well, what of it? She was not going to have any of them trying to control her, and that included Casey.
“What can I get you for the breakfast, miss?”
“I’ll just have coffee and one of the muffins from the basket there. They look delicious, Gilda. And maybe a glass of juice, too. Whatever you have.”
The housekeeper brought her a small pitcher of fresh papaya juice and while Brenna drank it and ate her muffin she consulted the guidebook for St. Sebastian she’d bought for herself the morning of her arrival on the island.
What she ought to be doing today, Brenna thought with a guilty sigh, was going back to the beach to finish yesterday’s work. But that would have meant Julio transporting both her and all her gear, as well as the possibility of running into Casey again.
And what she wanted, and meant to have, were several hours to herself. Not that she was going to ignore her obligation to Marcus. Which was why, when she set off on foot for Georgetown below, she went equipped with a tote bag containing her camera, sketchbook and the guidebook.
Brenna hadn’t lied to Julio when she’d told him she meant to scout out subjects for future paintings. What she’d omitted, however, was her plan to save those interesting colonial buildings for another occasion. This time the camera and the sketchbook were going to record another destination.
There was no shortage of taxis in the busy streets of the city, most of them used American cars that had seen better days. But any one of them was sufficient for her purpose. She had no trouble hailing a cab.
“The airport, please,” she directed the local driver, who flashed her an enormous grin with teeth so white they were blinding. His speed at the wheel was less pleasing, making her immensely grateful the airport was only a few miles from town.
Brenna was vastly relieved when he managed to drop her safely at the front of the terminal before racing off again to find a new fare. Entering the building, she made her way to the desk of St. Sebastian’s only car rental agency.
The young woman behind the counter greeted her with a wide smile and a kindly “Help you, miss?”
“Yes, please. I’d like to rent a car. Whatever you have that would be easy for me to manage.”
The cheerful smile of the attendant vanished, replaced by a regretful shake of her head. “I am much sorry, miss, but there is no car for me to check out, only ones for me to check in. Which,” she added, “is not yet happening this morning.”
“Are you telling me there’s nothing at all available? Not even for the day?”
“Sadly, our fleet of rentals is not a large one, and the last of them was claimed an hour or so ago. But, miss, if you would like to leave me your name and a phone number...”
Brenna decided against that measure. It could mean waiting for who knew how long, wasting her time hoping for a rental car to be returned.
Cabs were plentiful at the airport. It looked like her only disappointing choice was to hail one of them to take her back into town. She’d spend the day doing what she’d told Julio she would do, actually scouting painting subjects in the city. That would teach her to be deceptive.
The sunlight when she exited the terminal had her squinting against its intensity. Juggling her purse and tote with her head lowered, she searched for her sunglasses, found them and slid them into place.
The first sight that met her gaze when she looked up was Casey McBride. He leaned against the side of a silver Toyota, muscular arms locked across his chest and wearing a sly smile that said he was pleased with himself.
“All right, how did you find me this time?”
“Nothing complicated. Just cruising around Georgetown, you know, seeing the sights, when I spotted you grabbing the cab.”
“Another lucky coincidence, huh?”
“Looks like it.”
“I’d say it was more like you were waiting for me to turn up, probably watching the villa until I did.”
“Me? Never. How are things at the villa, anyway?”
“Fine.”
She had no intention of mentioning last night and Julio. If Casey got one whiff of that, he would be on her to move out of the guesthouse and relocate elsewhere. No way was she going to jeopardize her career by alienating Marcus with an action like that.
“So, you weren’t playing secret agent, hmm? You just went and tailed my cab in that silver chariot there for—what? The fun of it? Where’d you get it, anyway? Oh, no,” she said, “it was you, wasn’t it, who got the last rental car?”
“Don’t tell me I went and snatched it out from under you? Sorry, but I need transportation.”
“So do I.”
“I thought that was being provided for you. So where is your shadow today?” Casey looked around, as if he expected Julio to be lurking nearby.
“I suppose you could say I gave him the slip. A lot of good it did me, because now it looks like I went and traded one shadow for another one.”
“Yeah, but I’m a much friendlier one.”
He removed his sunglasses, as if to convince her with a full view of his face how harmless he was. It didn’t work. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“Well, let’s say a social one anyway. Didn’t look to me like the driver Bradley assigned you qualified for that.”
“That’s the point. I didn’t want friendly, social or any other kind of accompaniment. This was to be a solitary outing.”
“Feeling crowded, are we? Like maybe too many people sticking too close?”
“I just felt like being on my own today.”
“You could get that by going back to town.”
She hesitated too long. That perceptive mind of his, so valued by the FBI, guessed she was hiding something. “Or could it be that you have some other particular destination in mind?”
Her silence confirmed