Page 45 of Love Me Carefully
She didn’t have a clue where she was going. Donald was somewhere on this boat. Somewhere, doing Lord only knew what. A tug of hurt clutched her chest, but she kept moving. This time, heading left in the direction of the casino. Maybe he was on a winning streak and had lost track of time. For that, she’d torture him slowly.
There seemed to be an awful lot of people in a hurry to get to the casino, Rosie noted.Idiots.Like they hadn’t spent enough money on the cruise itself. Now they were eagerly giving it right back.
Slot machines whirled and chimed with winners, dice rolled across the green felt-covered tables, and a money wheel clicked incessantly before stopping at a number. Scantily dressed women moved from one end of the room to the other, carefully balancing trays full of drinks, and stopping occasionally to pass one to a thirsty gambler. People were everywhere, and it made her hunt for Donald difficult. Still, she searched each row of slot machines and each aisle of gaming tables.
Half an hour later, she was back at the entrance and still alone. She hadn’t seen Donald anywhere amongst the crowd of people eagerly giving away their money. Glad to get out of that negative surrounding, she began her search in the opposite direction.
An hour later Rosie was both exhausted and thoroughly pissed off. She’d searched everywhere she could think of and hadn’t seen Donald. She’d even gone back to the restaurant to ask if he’d shown up, which he hadn’t. Fuming now, she began to make her way back to their room. If he was there, she vowed to forego the slow torture she’d thought of earlier. Now she was ready to kill. She didn’t know what was going on but she was going to put a stop to it—tonight!
Since she was closer to the stairway than the elevator, and their room was on the floor directly below the restaurant, she decided to take the stairs. After the first few steps, she stopped a moment to rest. That was when she heard Donald’s voice.
Plain as day she could hear him talking. He was saying something about meeting the man in Negril. What man? And why was Donald planning to meet him? He was supposed to be wrapping up a business deal and then showing her around the island. Leaning over the railing carefully, she could see two men standing on the landing beneath her. One was Donald and the other she had never seen before.
“Was the money in the account?” the other man was asking.
“I haven’t been able to get through to the bank yet. I tried all last night. I’m not getting a real good connection on this damn boat,” Donald told him.
“Well, as soon as we hit land, you check it out, and then we go see Rohan. If my money ain’t there, I’m killin’ that bastard.”
“Just chill, Cable. It’ll be there and then this will all be behind us.”
She should leave. She should go back to the room and wait for him. To hell with that! She was going to get her answers, and she was going to get them right now! Anger and fear of what this situation really meant stirred inside her and she started down again. When she reached the next level, two pairs of shocked dark eyes focused on what she knew was her look of outrage.
“I know you better have a damned good reason for standing me up to talk to some man on the stairway.” Hands on her hips, her big chest heaving more from anger than exertion, Rosie glared at Donald and waited for his reply.
Still shocked to see her there, Donald couldn’t find any words. Cable spoke up instead.
“Hello, ma’am. My name’s Cable McDaniel.” The man extended his hand and quickly snatched it back as Rosie ignored it. “Um, I just met Mr. Donald. We were talking about some business ideas we both had and were thinking about getting together once we’re back on land. I understand this is your first trip to the islands.”
She didn’t believe this shady character for one minute, not any more than she was believing her fiancé, who still hadn’t said a word. “Donald, tell your friend I’m not interested in words from him. All the answers and explanations I want need to come from you.”
Dragging his hand over his mouth, Donald cleared his throat and prepared to speak. Something in her eyes stopped him. He knew that whatever he said had to be good. Rosie wasn’t going to believe just anything and, not that he hadn’t tried, but Cable’s little recitation had only angered her more. So, instead of explaining right there on the staircase, Donald decided it would be best to get her alone. That way if she hauled off and hit him, which was exactly what she looked like she was ready to do, he wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of his friend.
“Rosie, come on, let’s go back to our room. I’ll explain everything there.” Keeping his back to Cable, Donald gently placed his hand on Rosie’s elbow.
“Oh, now you wanna to go back to our room?”
From behind him Donald heard Cable say, “Yeah, that’s a good idea, Donald. I’ll catch up with you later. It was nice meeting you, ma’am.” The last was muttered as he quickly made his way through the door.
Folding her arms across her chest, Rosie stood perfectly still. If he thought he was going to shuffle her off to their room and talk his way out of this, he had another thought coming.
There was no way she could ignore the fact that something was definitely wrong. She was looking at the man she loved, the six foot, three inch, two hundred and eighty-five-pound man she’d fallen madly in love with, the man she was about to marry. The gray slacks and gray button-down shirt he wore looked the same as they had when he’d left her in the room earlier this afternoon. His hair, thin graying beard and mustache looked the same. Dark eyes she’d spent long nights staring into were still there, only hooded by something she couldn’t quite fathom. He was the same, yet he was different.
* * *
“Innovations.” Loosening his tie, Marty Blum stared at the elegant script on the window of the beauty salon. “That’s a fitting name, don’t you think?”
Jeff Tobias slowly sipped hot coffee from a Styrofoam cup. “How so?”
“They’ve certainly come up with new and innovative ways to smuggle drugs into the U.S.” Marty chuckled at his own wit.
Rolling his eyes, Jeff turned his attention from his goofy partner to the building they were staking out. “We haven’t seen or heard from Douglas in a few days now. I think something’s going down.” Watching as two young women unlocked the door and walked into the building, Jeff flipped through a manilla folder.
“That’s Nicole Ayers and Keesha Jones. They normally work from eleven in the morning to around ten at night. They have a steady clientele. Nicole lives in Woodlawn, Heraldry Square Apartments, alone. Keesha lives in Randallstown, Liberty Apartments, with her cousin Jasmine Johnson. They’re both single and pretty hot, if you ask me,” Marty rattled off between bites of a Boston cream donut, courtesy of the Dunkin’ Donuts across the street.
Confirming Marty’s recitation with the information in the file, Jeff continued to flip through his papers. “Been doing your homework, I see.”
“That’s my job.” Marty smiled. “The receptionist, Rosetta Pierce, hasn’t been in for a few days. When was the last time we heard from Douglas?”
