Suspect Witness. Ryshia Kennie
The luggage was a fairly good indicator that this trip was the most risky of their travels, for the luggage almost screamed safe and their demeanor capped his assessment. They were no threat.
There was a low hum of chatter around them as the passengers stared at the amazing backdrop the distant cliffs made as they pierced their off-white talons through the lush green jungle. He watched the tourists, listening to what they said, how they interacted with each other, mentally recording all. It was humans who would cause any problems in the future, not scenery. Because of that, he didn’t care for limestone peaks or bat caves except as a strategic means of escape, places to hide if the worst-case scenario occurred. In the meantime, what he cared about were the nooks and crannies where an assassin could lurk. Again, he scoured the disembarking passengers and moved on to the resort crew that waited on the edge of the empty runway with a minivan to take those less limber up to the resort.
His gaze slid over the employee at the head of the line. The man was lean, sun-bronzed and approximately five foot four. He was dressed in pristine white cotton pants and a T-shirt with the Royal Mulu Resort logo emblazoned on it. Instinct told him he was no threat, but he’d wait to pass judgment once he had the evidence to back up that initial determination.
The last bag was unloaded and he saw Erin take a step toward it.
He hurried forward as she reached for an oversized knapsack.
“Let me take that.” He lifted the bag as he made the comment, leaving her no option but to graciously accept. “Mulu is more beautiful than the brochure promised.”
She gave him a look that could only be called leery.
“I never anticipated this.” He swept his arm in a half circle. “Did you?” He didn’t even consider how inane the comment was. It didn’t fit who he was, but it fit his current persona. He’d just have to watch it so as not to go overboard with it.
“It is, but then that’s why I came here. As I imagine you did, too.”
“Actually,” he said, “I’d never heard of Mulu until a friend enlightened me. I didn’t even make a reservation.” He shrugged. “I don’t like to travel like that, but...”
“No reservation? Really?”
She only looked mildly interested and far from trusting.
“Did you reserve ahead?” he asked and felt her eyes on her bag.
“Yes, of course.” She frowned. Her eyes narrowed as they met his and her lips were compressed in a fine line. “You are lucky it’s October. One of the few months where there’s less tourists.” She held out her hand for her bag.
“You’re sure? I can take it.”
Her hand brushed his. Something shifted in her gaze and her lips softened.
“It’s heavy. Let me,” he said.
“Thanks,” she replied as she led the way with a determined and slight sway to her hips, which despite her slim figure were seductively curvy.
Overhead a bird screeched. The shadow of the bird’s startled flight cut across them as it dove, giving a view of glossy black tail feathers before it disappeared into the lush jungle. She jumped and slipped on the wooden walkway, which was slick from a recent rain. He took her arm, steadying her.
“Careful,” he warned as she looked at him with an expression of fear mixed with gratitude. There was a haunted look in her eyes, or maybe he imagined it, for the look was as quickly gone, and replaced by the determination he’d seen earlier, an emotion that consistently emanated from her.
“I can take it now.” She reached for her bag.
“You’re sure. There’s no need...”
Their eyes clashed, and he handed her bag to her. “I could have taken it the rest of the way.”
“You could have,” she agreed. “But I prefer not.”
She gave him a smile that took some of the edge off her words, and then turned with the bag slung over her shoulder, the straps gripped with one white-knuckled hand as she followed the two men who were already a few yards ahead. Two minutes later he was holding open the glass-plated door to the reception area for her as a rush of air-conditioning swirled around them.
“Well, we’re here,” he said as he graciously waited for the woman behind him to enter before relinquishing the door to a heavyset gray-haired man who was towing a wheeled suitcase behind him.
“We are,” she said over her shoulder and strode determinedly toward the reception desk without a backward glance.
* * *
“WE HAVE YOU booked for a double occupancy.” The desk clerk looked up and then over at Josh as if he were the missing double. “As you requested.”
“That’s right,” Erin said. “My boyfriend will be joining me later.” Her eyes slid to Josh and her hand slipped through the strap of the bag. Her eyes flitted to where a round, white-faced clock hummed on the wall behind the reception desk.
Four o’clock.
She sneaked another peek at Josh and saw only admiration in his gaze. Despite the wire-rimmed glasses and tacky T-shirt, he wasn’t as geeky as she’d first thought. In fact, there was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She gathered her passport and held it in an iron grip.
She looked away but felt his eyes on her.
“Boyfriend?” he asked, disappointment etching his words.
She nodded as her gaze flitted to his. There was an intensity there, a knowing that belied the unbecoming tourist T-shirt. There was smoke in his eyes that seemed to pierce through the lens of his black-rimmed glasses and a ruggedness to the face behind the frames.
“This place is amazing,” he said as he turned and looked one way and then the other, clearly overwhelmed. She suspected he was an infrequent traveler.
Her lips twitched, and she almost smiled.
“I’ll see you around,” she said as she left him to check in and followed the concierge out the door.
Five minutes later she scanned her room for exits. The airy, sunlit room held a wicker desk and chair and a comfortable-looking queen-size bed, but those were minor points. What was important were the window, the door and what was outside. From what she could see, barring the front entrance, the only exit was the window that looked out onto a narrow catwalk, a thin bamboo walkway that might have been used by resort employees. She glanced at the window. It would do in an emergency. First she had to determine if she could open it or if she would need to break the glass. If the latter were the case, she would need something handy to break the glass with.
She opened the stained bamboo closet door. Inside was nothing but a row of old-fashioned wire hangers. She ran a thumb over one, thinking that these hangers could be used as a weapon if necessary. They weren’t much, but they’d be better than facing any threat empty-handed.
Her hand quivered. Whoever was after her was more sophisticated than coat hangers. They’d blown up a car. They meant business, and they meant to kill her. It was as Mike had said and she hadn’t wanted to believe—only worse. A slight headache began to pulse low in the base of her skull. She missed her friends, her family, her apartment—and she missed her cat.
She’d delivered Edgar to her sister the day before she’d run. Sarah had been sworn to silence and Mike to vigilance. They’d both be fine. The cat would be well cared for, spoiled and more than likely a few pounds over his ideal weight by the time she got home, and her sister would have had the baby she shouldn’t be having. A single woman with no career aspirations and no man willing to stick around wasn’t the ideal candidate for motherhood. But that was Erin’s opinion, not Sarah’s.
Home.
Her thumbnail pinched into the palm of her hand.
“Focus,”