Follow the Sun (5 page)

He removed his hand slowly, his fingers almost caressing her as he did, and she had to concentrate to keep from leaning after them.

“I don’t know a great deal about Cherokee history,” he admitted.

“You probably know more than I do. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know much about my heritage.”

“Oh?”

“Come on, Sundance. I’ll explain while we walk to the bar.” She pointed to the medallion that lay between her breasts on a long gold chain. “I’ll tell you about my family history,”

“Hold my hand. I’m trembling from suspense.”

Tess eyed his outstretched hand drolly. “White man speak with forked tongue

“If you want to know about my tongue I can—”

“I’ll hold your hand.”

As she led him from the
Lady
she began explaining about Gold Ridge, Georgia, her remarkable cousins, and Dove Gallatin’s mysterious intervention ih their lives.

“S
O. THAT WAS
my first foray into my Cherokee heritage,” Tess finished, curving her hands around a tumbler of Scotch as she sat at a small table with Jeopard at the Zanzi Bar. “And I’m afraid that it’s hooked me. I’ve been raising my consciousness lately.”

And raising something of mine that I can’t name that politely
, Jeopard thought.

“You think I’m whimsical, Sundance?”

“No. I admire your dedication. I haven’t run across much dedication lately. Tell me more about yourself.”

“I was born in Sweden. My mother died in a skiing accident when I was two. My father was an entirely wonderful man, and he loved me, but his work didn’t
permit him to raise a child alone. I grew up with my mother’s parents, in Sweden, then went to boarding school in England. But I visited my father often, here in California.” She paused, smiling at the memories. “The
Swedish Lady
was his boat. He left it to me.” Her smile faded. “He died of a heart attack—oh, let’s see-seven years ago. When I was nineteen.”

“What kind of work did he do?”

The smile came back. “Have you ever heard of Sam Daggett?”

Jeopard chuckled. “He’s second in my heart only to John McDonald’s Travis McGee character. The Daggett books are classics.”

“I’m glad your think so! My father wrote them!”

He looked at her incredulously. “Your father was J. H. Gant?”

“Uh-uh. Hank Gallatin. J. H. Gant was his pen name. And he lived quite a few of the stories he wrote about, I guarantee it. When he wasn’t J. H. Gant, author, he was truly Sam Daggett, wanderer and adventurer. That’s why I couldn’t stay with him. He was always running off to exotic places to help some crony or other get out of trouble.”

Jeopard stared at her with new fascination. Her father didn’t sound like the mercenary who’d been described in the report.

Hell, this case became more disturbing by the second. Sam Daggett, along with Travis McGee, had inspired his earliest—and most idealistic—dreams of adventure. Those dreams had culminated in a career” in Navy Intelligence and eventually in private security work for driven, dedicated T.S. Audubon. His youthful fantasies were the only thing he still cherished about the world’s intrigues.

“You look as if I just handed you a Christmas present,” she murmured.

“You did.”

She took a sip of her drink. “Captain Sundance, I’ve been babbling about myself and I have yet to learn anything about you.”

Professional wariness closed around him like an invisible cloak. “You know a lot. I’m a terrible sailor, I have a bedroom with, ahem, a full-length mirror, and I pack a large pistol for chasing women.”

“We’re talking about the Magnum .44, you mean,” she teased.

Jeopard smiled wickedly. “That too.” He couldn’t help enjoying her. The fact that she had recognized the gun impressed him. Of course, J. H. Gant’s daughter would know about such things.

She laughed in a way that was girlish without being the least bit shy. Her blue eyes held too much authority for that. “What do you do for a living that allows you to buy large pistols and cumbersome boats?”

He fed her his standard story about Surprise Import/Export in Fort Lauderdale. Her smile tightened, and she searched his eyes intently. Damn, he thought, she knew he was hiding something. Her intuition surprised him, made him feel oddly proud of her but also vulnerable.

“Jeopard, whatever you really do for a living, I hope it’s not dishonorable.”

He was glad that his control kept her from knowing how much she’d just shaken him.

“You say that because of the way I charged after you with a gun today?”

“Exactly. If your import/export business has anything to do with drugs, you can keep away from me. The farther, the better.”

Inside he breathed a sigh of relief. Jeopard laughed with just the right amount of sincerity. “I’m clean, legal, and legit. I’ll give you a business card tomorrow, and you can check me out.”

She shook her head, smiled, and relaxed visibly.

He held up his right hand so that she could see the heavy gold insignia ring on it. “Naval Academy—Annapolis. The navy was my career until a few years ago. I was a SEAL. Do you know what that means?”

She nodded. “Special forces. Very elite. Also very tough.”

“So you see where I get my gun-toting, Clint Eastwood habits?”

“All right.” She nodded, satisfied, but after a moment of thought added wryly, “I guess SEALs don’t learn how to handle yachts.”

He chuckled. “It’s not part of military training, no.”

“So, importer/exporter, what are you doing so far from Florida?”

“I exported myself here for a two-week vacation.”

“You had an, ahem, more experienced captain export your yacht, I hope.”

“It’s leased. I boarded it off the coast at Laguna Beach.”

“Thank heavens you didn’t have far to navigate before you rammed my poor
Lady
. The seafaring world wasn’t threatened too badly.”

“You’re hurting my feelings.”

“I suspect that few things hurt your feelings. However, I
do
apologize for maligning you.”

He grasped his chest theatrically. “You’ll have to do better than an apology. You’ll have to have lunch with me tomorrow.”

She clasped her hands on the table and looked at him formally, much like a schoolteacher addressing an errant boy, he thought.

“Captain Sundance, tell me the truth. Are you married?”

“Would anyone marry such a rotten docker? No.”

“Ever?”

“No.” He watched her try delicately to hide her curiosity. “Never fear, Tess, I have no desire to do your hair or redecorate your boat.”

She gave him a rebuking look, but chuckled, “I wasn’t asking for personal reasons.”

“Oh? Are you a reporter for the
Marina Enquirer?
”

Her soft laughter crept into his bones and refused to leave.

“You silly lout. I can assume, then, that you’re just another carefree playboy?”

“Playman,” he corrected. “I passed ‘boy’ way back.”

She laughed again. Jeopard took a slow swallow from his drink and wished like hell that she’d stop. It was not only the most seductive sound he’d ever heard; it was the sweetest. Instinct, observation, and cold, hard facts began to give way to pure affection.

“I believe I
will
have lunch with you. Jeopard.” She gazed at him happily.

Jeopard nodded, forcing himself to look pleased. He was too seasoned, too cynical, and too wise to let a job get to him. She was just a job, after all. If she had the Kara diamond, he’d get it from her. And when she realized his deception, she wouldn’t have anything to laugh about for a long time.

CHAPTER 3

S
HE COULDN’T WAIT
to tell her grandparents about Jeopard Surprise.

At seven the next morning—bleary-eyed because she and Jeopard had sat at the Zanzi Bar talking until four—she parked the Jaguar in front of Viktoria and Karl Kellgren’s Spanish-style duplex. The old, exclusive section of Long Beach where they lived was quiet and pretty: small homes and duplexes marched up the street beside tiny front yards exploding with colorful flowers and shrubs.

Karl and Viktoria met her at their door as usual, their arms wide, as if she didn’t come every morning for breakfast.

They had followed her to Long Beach soon after Karl retired from a long and prestigious career in the Swedish parliament. Moving to America had been entirely their idea, but she adored them for doing it, and was glad that they were happy in the ultimate American playland that was California.

She didn’t have a phone on the sailboat, so they
kept a phone for her, a separate line with an answering machine. And because her relationship with them was so close, she didn’t mind that they knew her business and social doings. She led a simple life.

So she sat with them in their bright little kitchen, eating a very Swedish breakfast of pancakes smeared with jelly, not tasting the food, her concentration devoted to telling them an enthusiastic but G-rated account of the intriguing man who’d become her neighbor at the marina.

After a half-hour of nonstop talking in fluent Swedish, Tess realized that their cheerful expressions had gone dark. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Her grandfather spoke first. “Why did you tell him so much about yourself so soon?”

Tess smiled drolly. “
Farfar
, only because the man asked. It could be that he likes me. I am likable, you know.” She squeezed Karl’s hand. “He’s not the kind of man who feels comfortable talking about himself right away. That’s the only reason he encouraged me to talk. It was innocent.”

Viktoria nervously twisted the hem of the colorful apron she wore over a housedress. “But he wanted to know so much about your work and your family.” She frowned. “You didn’t tell him that you keep diamonds on your boat, did you?”

“No, of course not.”

“And whatever you do, don’t tell him about the blue. Don’t wear it around him, either.”

“That’s right,” Karl agreed.

Tess stared at her grandparents in disbelief. “You know I don’t wear the blue. It’s worth too much. What’s going on with you worrywarts?”

“The diamond has been in the family for many years,” Karl said sternly. “We wouldn’t want it stolen.”

“Good heavens!” She propped her chin in one hand and looked from Karl to Viktoria slowly. “Why are you worried now, but never before? Why didn’t you worry when you gave the diamond to me? I was only
eighteen. You didn’t even worry when I married Royce, the ultimate diamond fancier.”

“Royce was a friend of your father and mother’s. He was an honorable man. We trusted him,” Viktoria told her. “Since he’s been gone you’ve ignored all the men who’ve tried to get close to you. Now, suddenly, this Surprise person takes advantage of your loneliness.… ”

“
Farmor
, Royce has been gone for two years, and I’m lonely, I admit that. But Jeopard Surprise is very special. Besides, neither he nor anyone else knows that I have the blue.”

“Just you be careful,” Viktoria admonished, waving a finger.

“I could take it to the bank and put it—”

“No!” both Karl and Viktoria exclaimed.

“Don’t show it to
anyone,
” Karl said emphatically.

“It was your mother’s. It should stay close to you,” her grandmother added.

After a stunned moment, Tess sadly told herself that senility was making its first marks on her beloved grandparents.

“Good. I want to keep it close to me,” she told them gently. “A thief would have to tear my boat apart to find the blue. I never leave it outside its special safe. Don’t worry.”

“I think we’ll go down to the marina this morning and sit on your boat until we see this Surprise person,” Karl announced.

Smiling benignly at their whimsical fears, Tess got up from the table and gave them each a kiss. “You guys do that. I have some phone calls to make, so I’ll stay here.” She paused, feeling mischievous, and added, “If he cranks his yacht’s engine, run for your lives.”

S
LEEPY-EYED, A
cup of coffee in his hand. Jeopard glanced out his galley window a second time just to make certain that they were staring at the
Irresistible
.