Dead Girl in a Green Dress (21 page)

"Hey, Sissy," Tate greeted in his hoarse whisper.

"Don’t you ‘hey’ me after what you’ve put us through." Paige tried to sound stern but she couldn’t control her grin. "We’ve been sitting here all night while you snoozed. Thanks to your niece, I’m used to sleep deprivation, but
Byrony
and Sloan are practically zombies."

"Speak for
yourself
," a male voice groused, and Sloan entered the room.

"
Lil
Bro." Tate lifted his chin in acknowledgment and the monitor jiggled again.

"I just talked to your doc." Sloan informed all of them. "He’s out there with the nurse ordering up every test the two of them can think of – EEG, MRI, cat scan, dog scan – basically they’re going to turn you every way but loose." Tate snorted again, and managed an eye roll while his brother continued. "So since you’re going to be shuttled around from one lab to another, I’m taking these two someplace for a few hours of sleep."

Byrony
started to protest but Tate lowered his eyebrows and glowered at her. He opened his mouth but Sloan spoke first. "Is she always this stubborn?"

"’
Fraid
so."
Then he made eye contact with
Byrony
and mouthed the word, "Go."

The younger Madison gave his older brother a nod of sympathy.
"Figures."
Then he made a shooing gesture at
Byrony
and Paige. "Let’s go, ladies."

Making a face at Sloan, Paige walked over and gave Tate a loud smack on the cheek. "Maybe they’ll find something inside that hard head of yours."

Byrony
leaned over and kissed his other cheek, whispering in his ear, "As soon as the doctors get done, I’m going to turn you every way but loose."

Tate’s heart monitor gave a steep jerk.

***

Three days later…

Byrony
rounded the corner to Tate’s room and heard a familiar voice. What was Detective Shaffer doing here? Tate was being released this morning. As nerves prickled down her spine, she hurried into the room. Tate sat on the side of the bed, dressed in jeans and a plaid wool shirt, while Shaffer, in rumpled slacks and sport coat, sat in the chair
Byrony
usually occupied. Both men went silent at her approach, though Tate’s dimples flashed beside his tightly pursed lips.

Detective Shaffer rose quickly to his feet. "Miss Long, I heard Mr. Madison was being released today, so I stopped by to say thanks and wish you both well."

"Thank you, Detective."
Byrony
gave Shaffer’s extended hand a single shake. Nice and ambiguous, just like her feelings for the man.

"Take care." Shaffer’s nod included both of them.

"You too, Jim."
Tate’s voice had pretty much returned to normal the day before, and he sounded sincere.

Interesting, and a bit of a surprise.

As Shaffer shuffled out the door, Tate no longer tried to suppress his grin. "Tell me we can blow this joint, Sunshine. I am beyond ready to go."

"We’ll be out of here as soon as the aide arrives with the wheelchair." Her fingers itched to brush the hair off his forehead, but she didn’t dare touch him for fear she couldn’t stop.

Byrony
had been on her best behavior for Tate’s entire hospital stay. As long as Paige and Sloan were around, she didn’t have too much trouble. But Tate’s siblings had both left yesterday, Sloan on his motorcycle, and Paige had driven Tate’s car back to Chicago.
Byrony
turned away and crossed the room to the long cabinet against the wall to get Tate’s shoes and leather jacket.

"I don’t need a wheelchair." He groused behind her.

Big surprise there – Not.

"Just go along with the program for a little while longer, Cowboy, and we’ll stop for pizza on the way back to the hotel." She dropped the shoes in front of him and backed away. Images of what she planned to do to him once they reached the hotel danced through her mind, and none of them involved pizza.

"Now you’re talking." He stood to shove his feet into the sneakers and sat back down to tie them. "Want to know why Shaffer was really here? I asked him to fill me in on the wrap up."

Byrony
blinked twice in surprise. She had to admit she was curious, but she was surprised that Tate shared her nosiness. "And he came here in person?"

Tate shrugged with one shoulder and gave her a wink.
"More privacy than a phone call."

He took an unusually long time to finish tying his shoes, which
Byrony
suspected he did on purpose. And, as usual, his ploy worked. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Still the impatient little bean counter," he teased, dimples in full view. But then he turned serious. "Your sales clerk identified Mrs. Prince as the woman in the red wig who bought the two green dresses. Sergeant Brandon recovered the syringe she stuck me with. It and the contents matched a supply of prescription drugs Shaffer found in Mrs. Prince’s bathroom along with her insulin and syringes."

"So there’s no doubt that she…" She still couldn’t make herself say the last few words.

"Between that and the shoes, none," Tate confirmed. "Jealousy is a powerful force, especially for someone like Cristina
Woodleigh
-Prince, who thought she was losing everything."

Byrony
rubbed her forehead with her uninjured hand. "I still can’t quite believe that someone would purposely kill another person, much less my little sister. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand."

"Not much to understand, Sunshine." Tate’s tone went soft, soothing.
"Just that there are bad people in the world.
Always have been, always will be. Luckily there are good people, too."

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she fought down the urge to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she gave him a wavering smile. "So what else did Shaffer tell you?"

Looking pensive, Tate
steepled
his fingers and spoke over them. "They released Justin Saunders and he took off on the first flight to Detroit without even packing his bags. Michael Prince also took off for parts unknown after being put on administrative leave. And our buddy Sergeant Brandon just left on an extended vacation, hunting in the Upper Peninsula. In Shaffer’s estimation, he’s contemplating a transfer."

Byrony
stood in open-mouthed wonder during his recitation. "Is anyone left to run the island?"

"Not many, good thing it’s the off season."

The appearance of a burly man pushing a wheelchair temporarily stopped their conversation. Glad she hadn’t given into her impulse to touch Tate and be caught in the act,
Byrony
eyed the hefty aide with growing amusement. Whoever was in hospital discharge must be familiar with Tate’s stubborn disposition.

The man squinted at a printed list. "Madison?
Ready to go?"

Tate’s blue gaze traveled slowly over the beefy aide. Then to
Byrony’s
complete surprise, Tate rose from the bed, walked over and sat down in the wheelchair.

"I’ll just bring my car around to the front."
Byrony
grabbed the plastic bag of prescriptions on the night table and sprinted out the door before she lapsed into giggles.

By the time she found her car and maneuvered it from the parking lot to the entrance of the hospital, Tate and his large assistant were waiting for her. Tate had his phone up to his ear. Before she could get out of the car and open the door for him, he was out of the wheelchair and sliding into the passenger’s seat.

"Thanks, Corey." He nodded at the aide as he closed the car door. Then he shoved the phone into his pocket.
"Just calling ahead for a pizza."

"How did I know?"
Byrony
asked with an eye roll.

"Well, there is one more thing I’d like to know," he said, reaching for his seat belt. Then his gaze slowly moved from the cast on her arm to her face. "Did you really tackle Cristina Prince and club her in the head with your brace?"

"I suppose Shaffer told you that." She accused with mock outrage.

"Did you?" He persisted, his dimples flashing.

"Of course I did. Nobody messes with the man I love."

His throaty chuckle made goose bumps prickle up and down
Byrony’s
uninjured arm. "Why Miss Long, this is so sudden, especially for a bean counter."

She slanted him a sassy look as she started the car. "In case you didn’t notice, Mr. Madison, I’m not an ordinary bean counter."

"Believe me, I noticed." His blue eyes twinkled with the promise of naughtiness. "In fact, that’s why I love you."

Happiness and desire rushed through her like a parade of soap bubbles and she planted a swift kiss squarely on his tempting mouth. "I hope you ordered that pizza to go."

"Was there ever any doubt, Sunshine? Of course I did." And he kissed her back.

THE END

Loucinda
McGary
has been a storyteller and writer all her life. In 2003 she left her day job to pursue her twin passions of travel and writing. To date she has visited forty-seven states, thirty-four foreign countries, and taken twenty-four cruises. She likes to set her stories in some of the fascinating places she has visited. Her stories have placed and won several contests and awards including the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart contest, the Australian Romance Readers Awards, and the Kindle Book Review's Best
Indie
Book of 2012.
Dead Girl in a Green Dress
is her seventh published work.

Learn more about
Loucinda
, her travels and her work at: www.LoucindaMcgary.com

If you enjoyed this story, please check out her other books, all available as
ebooks
on Amazon and Barnes & Noble:

Her novelette:

The
Sidhe
Princess
(2011)

In the rural Northern Ireland of the 1960s, sixteen-year-old Moira Mullins is newly released from her second stay in a mental institution. Her problem is that she can’t seem to escape the notice of the other-worldly inhabitants of the wild lands bordering her family’s farm. Creatures nobody else can see or hear.

When one of these beings, a fairy princess called the Maid of Ulster, offers to foretell the future, Moira jumps at the chance. But the Maid has ulterior motives that could have tragic results for Moira, who learns the future is sometimes better unknown.

A dark modern-day fairytale, this 14,000 word novelette (easily read in a couple of hours) is a prequel to Ms.
McGary's
award-winning debut release
The Wild Sight
.

***

Book 1 in the Adventure Cruise Line series:

High Seas Deception
(2012)

A DANGEROUS MISSION
The
Irishman is a ruthless mercenary who performs any task for the right price. His current assignment involves intercepting a dangerous package smuggled aboard the cruise liner Intrepid. If the contents of the package reach Los Angeles, millions will die.

But only if the Irishman fails.

A DEADLY ATTRACTION

When Adventure Cruise lines' security officer
Skylar
Davidson finds the stowaway, she recognizes him from a bloody shoot-out she witnessed at LAX airport. But rather than being frightened, she's drawn to the enigmatic Irishman, and quickly becomes embroiled in his desperate scheme.

Can they win this deadly fight? Or will it cost them their lives?

Riveting danger, fast action, and sensual romance make
High Seas Deception
a thrill-ride of a read!

***

Book 2 in the Adventure Cruise Line series:

His Reluctant Bodyguard (2012)

The last person cruise director Avery Knox expected to see aboard her very first trip out on Valiant is former college football star, Rip
Pollendene
. A decade ago, she had turned down his advances at the University of Miami and lived to regret her decision. Why is she so reluctant to take the second chance she's been handed?

Rip
Pollendene
is the heir apparent to a beautiful island nation. But it's a heritage Rip has ignored and rejected for twenty years. Now his homeland is on the brink of a bloody civil war with outside forces trying to manipulate the outcome. Is that why someone wants him dead?

How much should
Rip
sacrifice for a country he hardly knows? And is it sheer coincidence that has thrown golden girl Avery Knox back into his life? Can they stay alive long enough to find out if their love really is meant to be?

***

Also available in mass market paperback and
ebook
formats:

The Wild Sight
(2008)

The Treasures of Venice
(2009)

The Wild Irish Sea
(2010)

All from Sourcebooks Casablanca and available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble

***

Please continue reading for an excerpt from Book 1 in the Adventure Cruise Line series: High Seas Deception:

HIGH SEAS DECEPTION

By

Loucinda
McGary

Copyright © 2012 by
Loucinda
McGary
Munoz

Chapter 1

From the balcony of the ninth story condominium, the Irishman drained his coffee cup and walked to the railing. Lifting a pair of small field glasses to his eyes, he focused on the boxy white ship gliding across the smooth waters of
Banderas
Bay. Through the early morning haze, he took a moment to distinguish the black, stylized 'A' on the vessel's smokestack, but once he did, the tingle of anticipation zipped along his nerve endings. Adventure Cruise Lines Intrepid – his objective was right on
time
.

He saw the harbor master's gleaming metallic cutter rushing out to meet the huge ship and guide her into the port. Slipping the field glasses into his pocket, he walked back inside to ready himself for his own meeting with Intrepid.

Forty minutes later, he slumped in the shade on a wrought-iron bench and sipped a bottle of water. Through his sunglasses, he watched the first passengers emerge through the gate in the chain link fence that separated the pier from the tiled plaza in front of the flea market a few meters to his left.

A score of eager taxi drivers descended on the new arrivals, crying out in accented English.

"I take you on a tour of the city..."

"...
to
Mismaloya
..."

"...
to
the tequila factory..."

"... good price!"

"... cheapest price!"

He'd seen the same scenario in every tourist port he'd ever landed in, though he had to admit that as tourist towns went, Puerto Vallarta was one of the prettiest. When the first hardy group negotiated their way past the gauntlet of aggressive drivers, he tossed his empty water bottle into the nearby trash bin and listened closely to their chatter. Their accents matched his
intel
which said most of the eighteen hundred passengers were from the US or Canada. He'd have no problem posing as one of them.

As a second, larger group made their way toward the shops in the flea market, he looped his backpack over his shoulder and joined them. Ignoring the calls of the pushy vendors, he took less than five minutes to spot a likely mark. The man at the counter stood close to his own height, though huskier in build. He wore a grey and black Oakland Raiders T-shirt with a matching baseball cap, and his personal identification stuck out of the back pocket of his shorts when he pulled out his wallet to pay for a tube of sunscreen.

This really is child's play
, the Irishman thought as he side-swiped the man's
shoulder.
Then he murmured, "Lo
siento
mucho," at the same time his unsuspecting benefactor said, "Excuse me."

"Hurry up, honey, the tour leaves in five minutes," a petite blonde in a pink flowered sundress admonished from the doorway.

Excellent! A tour meant they wouldn't come back to the ship for at least four hours, probably six if the snorkel mask poking out of the blonde's tote bag was any indication.

The man scooped up his change, dropped the pesos in the bag with the sunscreen and hurried out the door, wallet still in hand. The Irishman followed at a safe distance just to be sure the American didn't notice his missing ID card.

The blissfully unaware couple hurried to join a large group trailing after a man with a sign on the end of a pole, while the Irishman ducked around to the secluded side of the building. He glanced briefly at the white and blue plastic sea pass card before he zipped it into the inner pocket of his backpack.

"Thank you, Robert Adams," he murmured under his breath.

In the next hour, he bought himself a pair of plastic flip-flops, a Puerto Vallarta T-shirt, and his own black baseball cap. And he lifted two more sea pass cards -- one from a teenaged boy who was being a sullen pain in the
arse
to his parents, and the other from a chubby grandmotherly type who was chugging cold
cervezas
at half-past nine in the morning. He knew that three missing cards wouldn't raise as much suspicion as one, and he even smiled a bit as he dropped the little
knacker
Matthew
Moorehouse's
card into the dust bin.

A short while later when the heat and humidity started to climb, the first of the passengers filed back onto Intrepid and he joined them.
He stowed his sunglasses and mobile phone inside the backpack, but kept his new baseball cap pulled low to shadow his face.

Predictably, the crewman who shoved his sea pass card into the reader didn't even glanced at Robert Adams' picture as it flashed on the screen. An uneventful stroll through the metal detector while his bag went through the
x-ray,
and the Irishman was home free. Only one more thing to do and he could relax until they reached
Zihuatenajo
tomorrow and his real work began.

After a short elevator ride, he walked into the ship's spa. As he expected, the place was empty.

"Nope, I don't have an appointment," he admitted in his best West Coast accent and with his most ingenuous smile. "But it's just too hot with my hair this long." Still grinning, he looked around the empty room then back at the young Asian woman's name tag. "You don't look very busy, Mimi. Can't you give me a break?"

She took his proffered sea pass card and the twenty dollar bill under it. "All right, Mr. Adams. Have a seat. But if I cut it short, you won't have any more gold highlights."

"That's okay. I'd rather have it natural anyway, and call me Rob."

By the time she'd finished, his dark hair was almost military short on the sides and coaxed into stiff spikes on the top with gel. He doubted anyone from the flea market would recognize him as the same man. Snagging his backpack from the floor, he left the spa and headed for lunch at the buffet.

He found a secluded corner not far from the exit near the elevators and consumed his Caesar salad and pasta, savoring each bite as he watched four crewmembers
who
were eating at a nearby table.

The two uniformed men seated on one end of the long table seemed to be speaking a Scandinavian language, and he guessed they were officers. On the other end, the two women spoke English with unmistakable American accents. The brassy blonde in a short black skirt he figured for one of the entertainers or a member of the cruise director's staff. But the other woman, whose honey-brown hair was swept back severely into a tight bun at the back of her head, wore a uniform similar to the men.

A squawking noise interrupted the women's conversation, and he watched the uniformed woman pull a walkie-talkie from her belt and speak into it.

"I'll be right there," she said, and a frown marred her pretty face as she replaced the device on her belt. Then she turned back to her tablemate and sighed.
"
Gotta
go.
Lost sea pass card down at embark."

She headed for the bank of elevators, but as she passed his table, she looked directly into his eyes and a puzzled expression slid over her face. He thought she was going to speak to him, but the chime of the elevators interrupted whatever she'd been about to say, and she turned and hurried for the hallway. Not, however, before he noticed the patch on her sleeve that said "ACL Security."

He finished his pasta and returned to the buffet line for dessert. After selecting a slice of strawberry cheesecake, he found a different seat at the opposite end of the dining
area,
just to be sure he didn't run into Ms. Security again.

But a couple of hours later, he did see her. He'd been trying to bank a bit of sleep by napping on one of the chaise lounges near the pool. The stifling afternoon heat had awakened him, and when he lifted his sunglasses to wipe the perspiration from his eyes, he saw her on the opposite side of the deck once again talking to the blonde.

Idle curiosity got the better of him. Since he was ready to take a dip anyway, he left his sunglasses,
flip
flops, and backpack on his chaise and slid into the refreshing water in the pool's deep end. Surfacing on the other side brought him close enough to the pair to give him a nice view of the blonde's bare legs. But before he could focus on Ms. Security, a familiar noise erupted from her walkie-talkie.

"Davidson," she answered, then gave a frustrated growl low in her throat. "Are you kidding me? That's the third time today. I'm on my way."

She clipped the device back on her belt and strode away, while he swam underwater to the shallow end of the pool, climbed out, and snagged a towel from the pile on the rolling cart. Rubbing the water from his wet hair, he walked back to his chaise. When he finished drying off and placed the damp towel in the dirty linen cart, Robert Adams' sea pass card was neatly folded inside it.
 

***

"I'm telling you something weird is going on today,"
Skylar
Davidson declared as she
unkinked
the power cord from the electronic Bingo board, and helped her roommate and assistant cruise director, Avery Knox maneuver the unwieldy piece of equipment into place.