Читать книгу Her Own Ranger - Anne Duquette Marie - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

Miami, Florida

THE HEAT SIZZLED off the pavement, causing rippling silver mirages on Miami’s runways. Carson and Adoette were waiting in the arrivals lounge. Carson glanced at his wristwatch, then out the window.

“That should be their plane now.”

Adoette shivered. She tugged the edges of her sleeves even lower. Seminoles, whether in modern or traditional dress, tended to cover as much of their skin as possible against the ferocious mosquitoes. Dressed in her traditional long, layered skirt and light blouse with three-quarter sleeves, Adoette was no exception. Only now her clothes protected her from air-conditioning instead of bugs.

“Here, take this.” Carson removed his brown NPS uniform jacket and held it out for her to slip over her chilled arms. He himself usually wore the long brown pants, long-sleeved shirt and boots of the National Park Service. Today, as a concession to being away from the Everglades and around hot tarmac, he wore a short-sleeved shirt and the jacket above a pair of uniform shorts. On most men they would have looked ridiculous. Carson wasn’t most men.

“How do these people stand it?” Adoette asked, her teeth still chattering.

“They get used to it, I suppose. Like we get used to heat and bug spray.”

Adoette looked miserable. Carson slung his good arm around her shoulder—his other was still a bit stiff—and pulled his friend close.

“Better?”

Adoette smiled, her face framed by long black hair, the smile a thing of beauty beneath the dark brown eyes so many of his people shared. Adoette had inherited her family’s small frame; Carson had taken after his father, a tall man with a strong, lean build and a stubbornness in his jaw.

Watching Adoette, Carson thought, Ray’s a damn fool. And Adoette’s an even bigger one for waiting. She needs a man who’s like her—not a guy more interested in bright lights and excitement than finding a wife. Well, maybe she’ll change her mind. Ray never will. Not after Susannah...

Adoette interrupted his thoughts. “What do you think Alisha Jamison looks like? I’ve never seen pictures of her. Have you?”

“No. Does it matter?”

Adoette kept her gaze on the plane as it taxied toward their gate location, and switched to Seminole for privacy. “I hoped to spot her early...see if she looks friendly. I want to be her assistant while she’s here,” Adoette announced.

Her reply caught Carson off guard. “Assistant? She has a partner. He does the writing and producing.”

“I know, but I understand Alisha does most of the fieldwork. She’ll need a local guide, and he’s not it. Someone needs to lead her in one direction while you men go after those poachers in the other. I want it to be me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Carson! Your plan to let the famous Ms. Jamison scare the poachers off Seminole land is so obvious.”

“Is it, now? How did you arrive at this conclusion?”

“Easy. You’ve made sure she does her research on reservation instead of public land. And you’re meeting with her tonight. Everyone will know about it because you had Ray call the media. You’re setting her up as a bird dog to flush out our poachers, aren’t you?”

“There’s more to it than that.”

“Then fill me in.”

Carson swore in Seminole, but didn’t bother denying it. He never lied, and even if he did, he doubted he could fool Adoette. “First, tell me how you found out.”

“Easy. I’m invisible, you know.” Her words were bitter, contrasting with her youthful beauty. “Especially to Ray.”

“You’re not invisible.”

“I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t want poachers on our land, either, and I know these waters as well as you do. Alisha Jamison needs a trustworthy guide. Let me help. Deborah doesn’t really need me, and God knows I have nothing better to do.”

“Adoette—” Carson marshaled his thoughts before speaking. Adoette had tried college but she’d grown depressed away from the land she loved. Whereas, he was comfortable in both worlds, even if he preferred the wetlands.

Adoette, on the other hand, was like those earlier Native Americans who, taken away from their land, died of heartbreak. She wasn’t invisible, at all; she simply fit into her beloved home so well she was a timeless part of it. Ray was the odd one out, the proverbial sore thumb. He’d left to find his own place to belong, something Adoette already had.

“Ordinarily I’d ask for your help.” Carson chose his words cautiously. “But my plan’s already settled. Ray’s going to show Alisha around reservation land while I continue to hunt for the poachers.”

“Ray’s in on this?” Adoette said, shocked. “He hates the Everglades!”

“He loved his uncle. My father was Ray’s father after Deborah’s husband died. So Ray’s taken some time off from his job. He insisted on coming along to help.”

“Well, I’m insisting, too!”

“It’s not a good idea. Your...problems with Ray could make trouble on this expedition. Three people is all I need. I’m guessing the poachers won’t stay on the reservation while an antipoaching celebrity like Alisha Jamison is there. That could be the break I need to find them. Besides, Ray and I are family. You aren’t.”

“That’s no reason for me to stay behind,” Adoette argued. “What if the poachers don’t do what you want? What then?”

“They won’t have any choice. As long as I keep Alisha on our land—tribal land—the poachers have to lie low or move onto park service land. The NPS will close off the area to tourists and patrol the borders. I’ve already been given the green light by my boss. Our poachers are greedy bastards. They won’t want to wait a whole month for her to leave. Sooner or later—and probably sooner—they’ll strike.”

“It’s a good plan, Carson. If it works.”

He shrugged. “Well, if it doesn’t, I’ll have to come up with something else. But I figure chances are good that it will. We know they’re operating here now—and we know it’s the same group. So...”

“You’re forgetting one thing.”

“What?” Despite her feelings about Ray, Adoette had wisdom about others he rarely disregarded.

“It might not fool Ms. Jamison. What if she figures it out?”

“Since she’ll be safe, I don’t intend to tell her. Do you?”

Adoette pulled his jacket closer. “No. But since you won’t be guiding her, she’ll get suspicious. How will you explain your absence?”

“I’ll say my duties take priority.”

Judging by her expression, Adoette didn’t seem convinced.

“The main thing is, she’ll be safe,” Carson reiterated. “No poacher would risk hurting her again—not with the massive publicity and official manhunt we saw after her first attack. That’s why Ray announced her arrival to the media.”

“Since you claim this is such a safe operation,” Adoette continued, “I want in. Ray won’t distract me.”

“Ray’s your life. He affects every move you make.” His voice was tinged with big-brother overtones—the wrong tack to take.

“Finding your father’s killers is your whole life. It affects every move you make,” she shot back.

“My situation is different.”

She switched back to English. “No, it isn’t. You’re just as obsessed with revenge as I’m obsessed with Ray, but at least I know what I’m up against. You can’t even prove that the poachers who killed Ferris are the ones who shot you. You’re just guessing! You can’t identify your enemy.”

Carson frowned but didn’t dispute her words.

“Don’t even think of shutting me out,” Adoette continued angrily. “Because if you won’t let me act as Alisha’s guide, I’ll follow you on NPS land and I’ll shadow you. Don’t forget, I own my airboat. I’ll be there the next time a bullet knocks you out of a canoe—and that’s something you should be grateful for!”

“Dammit.” His jaw tightened. “I won’t risk your safety again.”

“You won’t if I’m with Alisha. You owe me, Carson. I want in.”

Carson counted slowly to ten. “How does Ray figure into this?” he finally asked.

“Ray?”

“Yes. What’s in this for you?”

“Nothing.”

He’d heard that answer before, and it meant something. “Come on, Adoette. Spill.”

“I hate poachers on my land.”

“That’s a given. What else, younger sister?” he asked in Seminole.

It seemed that the kindness in his tone, more than the words themselves, had the desired effect.

“Oh, all right.” She slipped back into English. “It’s no big deal. I’ve decided to change from an invisible woman to a visible one.”

“Huh?” Her answer caught him totally by surprise.

“You heard me. I’m tired of Ray treating me like some dreary little wallflower. How can I compete against the casino hostesses dressed like this?” She flipped one hand disdainfully at the bright colors of the Seminole skirt, then at the beads around her neck, the strands added one by one since birth. They represented every special event in a female’s life until, by middle age, a woman wore so many, she could barely turn her head.

“You look beautiful to me.”

“Only because I’m your friend. To Ray, I look like something out of a history book. I sit at an ancient loom in my antiquated clothes and weave all day. Even on the airboats I dress like this, and I feel like an idiot when tourists snap my picture. It’s time for me to...to change my life. I want a more active role. Alisha Jamison is my chance to see how it’s done.”

“Adoette, you couldn’t even finish a year in college. You were too shy.”

“I was very young. I was away from home—and I didn’t have the proper motivation.” Adoette’s eyes narrowed. “I do now.”

Carson was suddenly conscious of Adoette’s curves; he remembered how her yearning gaze followed his cousin with a hunger that seemed to grow more and more every day.

“I’m not a kid, Carson. I know what I need to do.”

“Changing yourself because you want to change is one thing. Changing yourself for a man who isn’t interested in you is another.” Ordinarily such rare bluntness from him would have caused Adoette to burst into tears. Not now.

“I’m doing this for both of us,” she said urgently. “Ray’ll notice me by the time I’m finished—he won’t have a choice. I’ll get what I want, you’ll get what you want. Alisha Jamison and I flush the poachers onto NPS lands. I get Ray. And you get your father’s killers.”

Carson started to argue, then stopped and lightened his tone. “Whatever. But this isn’t TV, Adoette. Don’t be surprised if Ray doesn’t fall into your arms when you put on a pair of tight jeans and mascara. Besides,” he added, “Alisha Jamison’s high profile comes from risking her life on the job. She’s a crusader—not the type of woman you’ll want to emulate.”

Adoette’s patience was obviously at an end. “How do you know? Maybe she is.” She moved closer to the terminal gate, away from him. The first passengers were trickling through.

Carson was shaken by Adoette’s words and the pain that had prompted them. Denying who and what she was could only make matters worse. Still, letting Adoette go with Alisha Jamison might not be a bad thing. Carson had already accepted Ray’s help and originally planned to have him guide Alisha. This way, though, Ray would have an extra pair of eyes. Not only that, Adoette would be driving the airboat.... He felt responsible for her, but she’d be safe with Alisha and Ray, who, like Carson, carried a handgun. He could look after himself and the women, despite his distaste for the wetlands.

I have nothing to worry about.

Adoette noticed the couple first. Carson immediately recognized Alisha’s partner from Ray’s description. Josh Gregory was large-framed with graying hair and a handsome physique—although that positive first impression was marred by his loud voice. That’s got to be the producer. Carson deliberately hung back, letting Adoette greet the couple—giving him more time to study the woman at the man’s side.

Alisha Jamison wasn’t what he’d expected. She certainly wasn’t a thick-muscled glasses-wearing stereotype of the female bush observer. On the other hand, she was nothing like Adoette. There were no delicate curves, no fragile beauty. At first glance, Alisha Jamison seemed ron-of-the-mill ordinary—not tall or short, heavy or thin, striking or homely, just an average woman who would never grace a magazine cover but could easily be the girl next door.

Until he looked closer...

The eyes were an ordinary blue, but they were alive with interest, their gaze moving everywhere, missing nothing. The smile was more than polite—there was a hint of generosity in the subdued yet welcoming curve of her lips. The woman’s bearing was graceful, almost proud, with a certain dignity that reminded him of stone cuttings of Mayan royalty. No, he corrected himself. It reminds me of my own people.

She conducted herself in a manner that made those around judge her as definitely not average.

Men—including himself—found her attractive. Women, he noticed, including Adoette, found her a definite threat. He saw either awe or envy in the eyes of any woman looking at Alisha Jamison. She wore simple clothing, little makeup and no jewelry except a plain silver cross, but Alisha was the most desirable woman there. Carson had to fight down a surge of pure male excitement as Adoette led the travelers his way. He was surprised to find himself jealous as hell that Adoette reached Alisha’s side before he did.

This woman’s trouble. Big trouble.

Alisha Jamison’s gaze targeted him in the crowd. He saw her take in his appearance, the brown NPS uniform, and make the connection. She detached herself from the small group and approached him alone, her carryall slung over one shoulder, her hand outstretched.

“Mr. Ward? Alisha Jamison.”

Carson took her hand. There was self-assurance in the grip of those feminine fingers. “Welcome to Florida, Ms. Jamison.”

“Thank you, and please, it’s Alisha. Or Ali, if you prefer.”

“Then call me Carson.”

She released his hand. “Carson. If you could lead us to the baggage carousels...”

He nodded, and the four of them went through the tedious practice common to all airports. Alisha walked beside Carson. Behind them, Josh was complaining to Adoette about Customs, muttering that he hated how long the routine took in Florida. Adoette, still wearing his brown jacket, talked politely to Josh. Carson enjoyed having Alisha to himself.

“I hope you had a pleasant flight,” he said as they walked along.

“A long one, anyway.”

“You must be tired.”

“Just a little. I slept on the plane,” she said with a smile.

“You’ll feel better once you get to the hotel. It’s not a long drive.”

A surge of people from the same flight arrived at the luggage carousel from the Customs area, which precluded further talking. That didn’t stop him from trying.

“What do your bags look like? I’ll grab them if you point them out.”

“Thanks. They’re black, with silver name tags.”

They waited in front of the empty carousel.

“I hope you haven’t arranged for a guide,” Adoette said, finally managing to make her way to Alisha’s side. “I’m available. I’m familiar with the area, and I’m also a fully qualified airboat operator.” She spoke quickly, frowning a little in her seriousness.

“I’d love your help—if it’s okay with the ranger here.” Alisha glanced at Carson, who merely shrugged.

“I guess that means yes.” Alisha laughed, a deep, delighted laugh that spoke of hidden passion—bed- room passion, if his hormones could be trusted. “Well, good. My résumé leaves much to be desired in that department.”

She found her first piece of checked luggage and pulled it off the carousel instead of pointing it out. Before Carson could react, Alisha started to reach for a second bag, one that obviously held camera equipment.

“No one carries Al’s cameras but her,” Josh informed him.

“That’s not true, Josh. No one carries my film but me. Or my tape. The cameras I check.”

As Alisha passed Carson a second camera bag, she said, “I have a question for you.”

His senses were immediately on alert.

“Why did you and your tribal council change your position regarding my earlier request?” she asked. A direct hit. Carson hadn’t expected this so soon—if at all.

He saw the intelligence in her eyes—and it made him uneasy. Adoette’s right. This woman might discover my plan, after all. What if she won’t play along? What if she wants to join the hunt, instead? I refuse to be known as the man who put Alisha Jamison at the mercy of poachers... again. Suddenly he changed his demeanor from friendly to strictly business.

“No time for questions right now,” he said. “Adoette will take you to the pickup area. Please wait there with her.” His voice left no room for refusal. “I’ll get the car.”

ALISHA FLOPPED BACKWARD onto her bed, hair wet from the shower. She wore the fluffy terry-cloth robe provided by the Lucky Lady Hotel and Casino.

“Oh, Lord, that feels so-o-o-o good,” she groaned.

She heard a knock on the connecting door. “Are you decent, Al?”

“Yes, come on in.”

Josh appeared. “Comfy?”

Alisha reached for a pillow and shaped it more comfortably under her head. “I’m getting there. Nothing like a good ol’ American mattress.”

“Yeah, well; before you nod off...” Josh shook a bottle of pills. “I just got your prescription refilled.”

“I still have some left.”

“I know, but there aren’t any pharmacies in the middle of the Everglades, you know. I didn’t want you to run out. Did you take today’s dose? You didn’t—I can tell by your face. Take them now. Here.” He held out the pill bottle and an open can of soda.

Alisha groaned again as she sat up and took the pills and the drink. She’d been on a low dose of antibiotics ever since the poachers’ attack; it was the only way to keep in check the numerous bouts of bronchitis and pneumonia that had plagued her since.

“You’re almost as bossy as our host was at the airport,” Alisha said.

Carson Ward. An interesting man. On the drive here, she’d observed him with the same intensity she brought to her work. He doesn’t give much away. He certainly clammed up when I asked him about the fax. And then he played nonstop tour guide during the drive—so I didn’t have a chance to bring it up again.

“The ranger wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Did you notice?”

I noticed She didn’t guard her expression carefully enough.

Josh pounced. “Yep, you did.”

“Bastard.” It came out too affectionately to sting.

Josh laughed and pulled the covers over Alisha and gently tucked her in. He smoothed her wet hair back from her face. “You should’ve dried your hair. It can’t be good for your lungs. Cold in here, too.” Josh kicked the air conditioner regulator up a few notches. “There.”

“If you’re done fussing, tell me what’s on for tonight.”

Josh was all business again. “I’ve ordered lunch from room service—it’s on the way up. And, hey, there’s a copy of the local rag, today’s, with a story about you. Don’t bother reading it—nothing there but standard P.R. stuff. Just eat your lunch. Then get some beauty sleep. You look like tapir dung.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom.”

Josh didn’t even blink. “After that, a wake-up call at 6:00 p.m. Plenty of time to dress and meet Carson Ward, his delightful friend Adoette, and Ward’s cousin, Ray, for dinner.”

“Ray’s your old poker buddy’s son?”

“Yes. By the way, Ray Weaver manages a shift here at the casino and got us the rooms. So be nice to him.”

“Of course.”

“I’ve ordered a dress from the gift shop. It’s being pressed now.”

“My size?”

“No, mine. Of course your size! Long-sleeved, high back.”

Josh didn’t add what they both knew—that she wore dresses like this to hide her scars.

“Oh, and some new underwear, as well. Last time I did the laundry, your bras all looked like linguini. I got you some tans and whites, plus one black strapless, no underwires in the bunch.”

Alisha hated underwires. “Josh, I have to say, you’re a partner among partners.”

“Yeah, well, not for long. Dammit, Al, what’ll I do without you if you can’t work after the operation? No, don’t answer that,” Josh said impatiently. “Anyway, it’s drinks at seven and dinner at seven-thirty. Watch your p’s and q’s. This guy Ward isn’t just some park ranger.”

“I remember, you told me his aunt—”

“Yeah, Ray’s mother. She’s a big muckety-muck on the tribal council. Don’t step on any toes. I won’t be there, by the way.”

“Where will you be?”

“At my brother’s, but first I’ll be getting your supplies for the trip.”

“Don’t forget toothpaste!”

He made a rude gesture, and she laughed. “I’d tell you to skip the supplies shopping, but I know you wouldn’t listen. Besides, I don’t think dinner in a nice hotel with a good-looking man is going to be any hardship.” Josh raised one eyebrow at the “good-looking” part. Alisha pointedly ignored him. “Even if it was, you always say suffering builds character. Look at me.”

Josh’s smile faded. “Yeah. Look at you.” His expression became thoughtful. “Eat your lunch, take your nap, have a great time. Fill me in tomorrow.”

ALISHA STARED INTO the bathroom mirror. A stranger stared back at her. With her hair up, carefully applied makeup and the classic dress, she hardly recognized herself. As usual, the clothes, from the long black skirt and jacket top to the new underwear beneath it, were a perfect fit.

“Thanks, Josh,” she murmured, but she wasn’t really thinking about her partner. Their relationship wasn’t only business; they shared the affection and companionship of good friends. But not lovers.

In fact, there hadn’t been much romance for either of them. Their work left little opportunity to meet potential lovers—or spouses. Josh had been married briefly, in his thirties; Alisha had experienced a few short-term affairs. That was it. Not much success on the romantic front, she thought, resigned as always. She did have regrets about it, though, especially now, with her career about to end.

Alisha patted her hair one last time. She intended to enjoy tonight. She’d be eating dinner with new people at an actual table instead of over a campfire. Carson was a handsome man. With luck, he and his cousin would provide interesting dinner conversation. And she’d have a chance to get better acquainted with Adoette, a good idea if they were going to be spending the next few weeks together.

She left her room and, on impulse, skipped the elevator for the grand staircase. The hotel-casino complex took up more horizontal than vertical space. She knew that was because skyscrapers were rare along the coast with its porous limestone bedrock. The building was carefully designed to bring the vivid greens and blues of the outside in, creating an attractive sense of openness.

Alisha went past the casino entrance to the slot machines, crowded with people dressed in swimsuits, jeans shorts and T-shirts. Beyond, she noticed the more high-stakes gambling areas, where quiet men and women dressed in formal clothes sat at games tables presided over by tuxedoed dealers.

She smiled as she continued walking, not breaking stride. The background cacophony of whistles, gongs and excited chatter was no temptation for her. Gambling in general paled in comparison to the safaris she’d been on. As for high-stakes games...

I’ve played the real thing.

The hotel had several bars, and Josh’s instructions led her to a lovely indoor oasis set far from the casinos and overlooking a spectacular view. Florida bloomed with the fullness of summer. The oranges and yellows of late sunset could still be seen in the west. She paused, unable to pass such beauty. Seconds later, she was rewarded as a flock of snowy egrets lifted off the wetlands. Wings open, they rose from the Everglades to roost in trees, secure from the night’s predators. The sun glinted off the water and the birds’ wings, turning them into a surrealistic fantasy of gold.

The sight was spectacular. She continued to bask in the pleasure of it as she approached the maitre d’.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Jamison. Your party is waiting. Please, follow me.”

Time for pleasure—and for business. Time to find out exactly what Carson Ward’s hiding.