Burn: A Novel (12 page)

“The passengers in the suites can’t be moved again,” he said, thinking aloud. “Larkin put them there for a reason, and if we have Sanchez switch them around Larkin will know something’s up.” A plan was forming, one that involved one of his group switching out with one of the people in either the Neptune suite or the Queen Anne.

“The old couple’s very well known. Anything involving them will attract a lot of attention, plus I gather they aren’t in the best of health.” Tiffany might not know exactly what he was thinking, but she was sharp enough to know it would involve the passengers currently assigned to one of those two suites.

“What about the other two guys?” Two gays, obviously, which meant Tiffany wouldn’t be of much use. He himself was paired with Tiffany—professionally, not personally—so perhaps he could move Matt into the primary position on this job. Cael was a little uneasy with that. Matt was damn good at what he did, but his acting skills didn’t extend to portraying a convincing gay. Besides, Matt had already been hired on with the crew, so moving him to the passenger list would send up all sorts of red flags. No, he’d have to do this himself.

“Wrong-o,” Tiffany said, having already pulled up their info on her computer. “They’re both women. Sydney—spelled with a ‘y’ instead of an ‘i,’ is an heiress. Jenner Redwine won the Mega-Millions lottery several years back. They’re best friends, but not lesbian. At least, if they
are
lesbian, they’re so deep in the closet they could pass as garment bags.”

“Are they, or not?” A tinge of impatience laced his deep tone. Although he appreciated the garment bag analogy, he didn’t have time for humor.

“Going strictly by instinct … no. They’re straight. And they’re stand-ins for Sydney’s father, who had to cancel. My reading is that Sydney was asked to take her father’s place, and she asked a friend to go along for company. Hmmm. The suite that was originally booked was a two-bedroom, but the Queen Anne is just one bedroom.”

“That could be a problem for them.”

“No, it’s okay. The king beds can be separated into twins. Besides,” she retorted, “women don’t have the same hang-ups about sharing a room that men do. With members of the same sex, that is.”

He ignored the jab. Tiffany was always trying to ruffle his feathers—that was her nature. His attention to and concentration on the job was legendary, so of course she had to try to jolt him out of his mental tracks.

The sudden kink in their plans had kicked his mind into high gear. “Find out everything you can about Hazlett and Redwine. I want their travel plans, I want to know how they think, what kind of people they are.”

“I’m on it.”

“Ryan and Faith go to backup,” he said. “We can’t move them around again—that’ll alert Larkin. You and I become primary.”

“All right!” She sounded disgustingly cheerful. There was nothing Tiffany liked more than being in the front lines.

After hanging up, Cael did some research on his own. They had very little time to get a plan in place, so he had to lay as much groundwork right now as he could, which involved waking up some people who’d be unhappy about the hour. Tough shit. He was awake, doing his job, so they could wake up, too. He didn’t have time to be considerate.

On this special charity cruise of the
Silver Mist
, before the luxury ship went into commission, he had chosen Ryan and Faith as primaries because they genuinely moved in some fairly rarified financial circles. It just so happened they both had a taste for adventure, and good skills. If Larkin hadn’t shuffled the passenger list around, they would have been good to go.

Cael studied the faces he’d pulled up on the computer screen. Tiffany would do deep discovery on the two women, but he could get a feel for what kind of people they were. Hazlett was the prettier of the two, with dark blond hair and classically even features, but there was something soft in her expression. Redwine, on the other hand, was more cute than pretty, and the candid photos of her showed some attitude. The pictures he pulled up also showed that she changed her hair color about as often as she did her shoes. That could mean she had a streak of adventure in her, which meant she could be a liability. On the other hand, did Hazlett have the backbone to do what would have to be done?

It was a judgment call. Hazlett would be more pliable, more easily influenced, but her nerves might not stand up to the job. Red-wine’s nerves would stand up fine, but she’d dig in her heels and cause problems the whole time.

He stared longer at Redwine’s photo. Tiffany might dig up something that changed his mind, but he didn’t think so. The job was what was important, and carrying off the ruse would take guts, which he didn’t think Hazlett possessed. So … Jenner Redwine it was. If she gave him any trouble, well, he’d just have to handle it—and her.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said softly. “We’re about to become lovers.”

T
HE MORNING THE SHIP WAS SUPPOSED TO DEPART ON
the two-week cruise, Sydney got up very early—she hated rushing around. She invariably did something stupid when she was rushed, like the time she’d put on one each of two different pairs of shoes, or when she’d once forgotten to put on any jewelry at all for a formal dinner. She tried to be composed and together, but it rarely worked. This time, she didn’t want to be in such a rush that she forgot to bring all her luggage, or left her passport behind. On that thought, she double-checked to make sure it was in her bag.

This past week had been fun, drowsing by the pool, shopping, talking into the wee hours. Sydney had really enjoyed spending time with Caro. There were very few people with whom she could truly relax, and Caro was one of them. Her personality was laid-back, nonjudgmental, and she saw everything through a filter of good humor. It didn’t escape Sydney how completely different her two best friends were, though she loved both of them.

Well, not
completely
different. Jenner
did
have a sense of humor, though it tended toward the wickedly ironic. On the other hand, there was nothing about Jenner that was laid-back; even when she
was relaxing, she seemed to hum with energy. She was more wary than outgoing, somewhat prickly, and as fierce in her likes as she was her dislikes.

Maybe it was Syd’s own unrelenting sense of inadequacy that had made her notice Jenner when they’d been seated at the same table at a charity dinner. To the casual observer, Jenner would have looked composed, contained, everything about her discreet and understated, from her gown to her makeup to her jewelry. Syd, on the other hand, was so hypersensitive to others’ expressions, looking for any hint of derision or disapproval, that she saw the tiny flare of uncertainty in Jenner’s eyes as she gave the silverware a brief, panicked glance. Immediately Syd knew that Jenner was out of her depth, that this was the first formal dinner she’d ever attended, and that she had no idea how to handle the admittedly excessive array of forks and spoons.

Normally, making the first move, whether it was initiating conversation or anything else, was agonizing for Syd and she had to psych herself up beforehand; that night, however, what she’d done had been so simple, and as easy as breathing, that she hadn’t had to think about it at all. She’d caught Jenner’s eye, subtly lifted the correct fork, and made a lifetime friend.

She’d been so afraid at first that her father wouldn’t like Jenner. He was no one’s fool, and after her disastrous engagement had ended he’d become ferocious in making sure no one else took advantage of her. Jenner’s background wasn’t exactly shining; winning the lottery wasn’t regarded with the same amount of respect as was working twenty hours a day and making astute decisions that affected thousands of people, hopefully for the best. There was no skill or talent involved in winning the lottery; it was just a matter of luck. And she was newly arrived in south Florida, so no one knew anything about her other than the most superficial information; what concerned Syd’s father most was whether or not Jenner would be a loyal friend, or if she was merely using Syd as a means of working her way into society.

To her surprise, the two of them had hit it off. Jenner didn’t
give a flip about society, she was who she was, and that included being Syd’s friend—period. There was no rhyme or reason when it came to hitting it off with a person, she supposed. It just happened, sometimes, and she was so glad one of those times had been with Jenner.

Normally, the thought of two solid weeks filled with one formal event after the other would have almost paralyzed Syd with dread, but somehow being on a ship made things different. The whole atmosphere was just easier. Being on a ship meant being in a completely different world, where the outside couldn’t intrude. There weren’t any phone calls to field, and people were more preoccupied with relaxing and having fun than they were with how they or anyone else looked. She enjoyed cruises in general, and this one not only promised to be fun, but it would raise money for several very good causes. She only hoped Jenner had fun, too; Jenn was such a control freak—at least when it came to staying on top of business, because she wasn’t that way with anything else—that getting away from it all would either be a great relief, or frustrating for her, and Syd had no way of knowing which way she would fall until they were actually at sea.

But even if Jenn did freak out at first, maybe then she’d relax and they could have fun. The world would be fine without her for fourteen days. There was no one else in the world Syd enjoyed spending so much time with; Jenner’s take on the world was so pithy that it was hilarious. Then, too, Jenner had some of the qualities Syd admired but didn’t possess: strength, self-confidence, the balls to look life in the eye and dare it to blink first.

Syd heaved a little sigh. She herself didn’t have any balls—at all, not even peanut-size ones. Maybe one day.

The limo arrived at Caro’s right on time to pick her up. While the driver, whose brushed gold name tag said he was “Adam,” loaded her vast amount of luggage into the trunk, Sydney gave Caro a long, heartfelt hug, they made many promises that they’d get together again and wouldn’t wait so long next time, then Syd bounced down the steps to the limo. She cast a quick, anxious
look at the driver. She
did
have an enormous amount of luggage, and she wanted to apologize, to explain that she’d packed to be away from home for two weeks and there were all these social events on board the ship and—She bit back both the apology and the explanation. First, to his credit, Adam wasn’t scowling or looking impatient or anything. Second, he was a tall, good-looking, well-built man, and that type always made her excruciatingly aware of her own shortcomings, one of which was the urge to apologize for everything.

She settled into the seat and placed her bag next to her, thinking that when she signed the credit card receipt for the limo she’d add to the tip that had already been figured into the cost. Anyone who handled that amount of luggage without complaint deserved an extra tip.

As the limo pulled away from the curb Sydney stared out the window at the sun-drenched hills, and the blue of the Pacific off to her right. It was another beautiful day; every day she’d been here had been perfect. The prospect of another fourteen days of beautiful weather loomed in front of her, making her smile.

She checked her watch, a diamond-studded Cartier her father had given her on her eighteenth birthday. She was going to be one of the first passengers on the ship, but if Jenner’s plane was on time and her limo made good time through the traffic, it was possible she’d arrive at about the same time. Syd was relieved that she wasn’t going to be late this time. She knew she had a terrible habit of not being on time, and she really tried not to be late, but like almost everything else, time seemed to be beyond her control. She never
intended
to be late, just the opposite, but … She’d try to do better, especially while they were on the cruise.

She didn’t pay much attention to the landscape as Adam drove at a leisurely pace through the upscale neighborhood that surrounded the gated community where Caro lived. It wasn’t as if she knew her way around San Diego anyway, so the landmarks meant nothing to her. Instead, she let her mind wander as she thought about the days ahead, the sunbathing on their private balcony, the
wonderful food she really shouldn’t eat but would enjoy immensely because everyone knew cruise calories didn’t count. Maybe she’d even drink a little too much now and then, and dance with a handsome Latin ballroom instructor. Uh-huh. Sure. She wasn’t known for her ability to cut loose. So she
wouldn’t
drink too much—she never had—and as she already knew how to ballroom dance, she probably wouldn’t dance with an instructor, either. But she and Jenner would relax, enjoy themselves, maybe flirt a little even if it was only with someone who was safely in his seventies, and have a real vacation.

With a slight jerk, the limo halted at a stop sign, and the door locks clicked. Confused, Sydney glanced at the driver, because all his other stops had been smooth as silk, and why were the door locks just now engaging? Usually they automatically clicked down as soon as the car was put in gear.

The passenger door across from her opened and a dark-haired women slid into the seat, then closed the door with a firm bang. Sydney gaped at her, too startled to do more than make a few incoherent noises. The car started forward again, and once more the door locks clicked. Confused, she realized the first click had been when they
unlocked
, which meant he’d put the gear in Park.

“Adam—” she began, alarm pushing aside her startled confusion as the car picked up speed. She scooted to the edge of the seat, gripping the door handle as she reached forward to tap on the partition separating them. Surely he realized they’d picked up an unwanted passenger. He should be pulling to the curb, turning around and telling the woman—

“Just sit still, Ms. Hazlett,” the woman said in a calm tone. She took her hand out of the pocket of her tracksuit to reveal an ugly black gun. “If you do exactly as we tell you, you won’t be hurt.”