Page 21 of Fearless
“It’s not an unbeatable lock, but it’s an added layer of protection while we’re gone. The butterfly key turned 90 degrees and makes it nearly impossible to open the door. I should have used it both times we’ve left the room unattended, but it’s a new piece of equipment and hasn’t become part of my standard security setup,” he says almost apologetically.
I rub the ring on my finger, aware that one clockwise click turns the beautiful piece of jewelry into a non-lethal weapon. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. None of the items you’ve brought along are standard issue for the FBI, and I wouldn’t know if something was overlooked in your protocols. While we have some similar equipment, most of it is bulkier, outdated, and doesn’t work half the time.” I palm the little black box and hand it to him. “I’m curious what other surprises you have in store.”
He opens the box and shows me a pair of sparkling diamond earrings and a pendant necklace that matches the ring on my finger. He removes the necklace and unlatches the clasp. “I’m glad you asked. The necklace contains a recording device, both visually and audibly. Press it firmly once to turn it on and again to turn it off. It links to our system in the same way that the micro cameras do.”
Once Roger has placed the pendant around my neck, I press it once and feel a slight tingle against my skin when it activates. I press again to turn it off, and the tingling stops. “Why not keep it on all the time?”
Roger patiently explains, “When activated, it emits a signal just like the wires we wear in the FBI. You have the ability to turn it off if you know your body is going to be scanned for any kind of recording device. It’s a safety measure that’s come in handy more than once.” He gives me the box and points to the earrings, “The same goes for those, but instead of recording, they have a tracking chip inside. Only one needs to be active for us to pinpoint your location to within ten feet.”
I put the studs in my ears and then go through the process of turning them on and off. There’s a chime on Roger’s phone, and he shows me the app that automatically opens when the tracking chip is initiated. A red dot blinks on the screen that displays a satellite view of the cabana, then disappears. “I see why Leanna agreed to come if she gets to play with all the cool toys. These are pretty nifty.”
“Pretty nifty, huh?”
“Are you mocking me, Mr. Cavenaugh?” I ask, playfully pushing him aside.
“Indeed, I am, Mrs. Cavenaugh,” he replies with a mischievous grin. He angles his arm so that I can loop mine through his. “Shall we?”
Carter and Leanna join us for lunch at a beachside crab shackwith plenty of outdoor seating available. The breeze coming off the ocean is cooler than this morning, with storm clouds hovering on the horizon. Even though the sun is shining bright overhead, most of the patrons have decided to dine indoors, giving us the entire patio to ourselves.
“I wonder if our excursion this evening will be canceled due to the storm,” Carter says while cracking open a crab leg. He drenches it in butter, and I can feel my arteries clogging up just from being in such close proximity to such a large amount of saturated fat.
“I’ve heard that the storms move through the area quickly, but if it decides to stay around, then you can try again tomorrow,” I say as I poke around in my seared ahi tuna salad with my fork. I’m jonesing for something with a bit more substance instead of the rabbit food in front of me, but as a creature of habit, I ordered a salad. I eye Roger’s plate of fresh grilled mahi mahi and fire-roasted vegetables and sigh, wishing I had ordered that instead.
As if Roger can read my mind, he takes my plate and replaces it with his meal without saying a word. He takes a bite of the tuna while I just stare at him. “What’s that look for? I only had a few of the vegetables, but there’s still plenty left,” he says, waving his fork at the plate of grilled fish.
Leanna smiles warmly at Roger’s perplexion. “Harper is just in shock by the thoughtful gesture and your mind-reading capabilities. Carter would do the same thing for me,” she says and then turns toward her husband and bats her eyes, “Wouldn’t you, Baby?”
Carter’s bite of glazed salmon hovers in front of his mouthas he glances at his wife. “I know there is a right way to answer that question that won’t end up with me on the couch, but…”
“But?” Leanna asks, turning in her seat so that she can rest her arm on the back of the chair. She narrows her eyes, but it’s clear she’s forcing back a smile. “Go ahead, Carter. Continue with whatever you are going to say.”
Behind Leanna’s back, Roger shakes his head vigorously and waves the tips of his fingers across his throat, warning Carter that disaster is approaching. Carter gets the hint and reaches for Leanna’s hand, entwining his fingers with hers. “Of course, I would. I’d do anything for you, my love,” he says with a saccharine sweetness that can’t be mistaken for anything other than the sarcasm it’s intended to be. But then he adds, “Otherwise, I’ll have to endure another lecture from your father and three brothers about how Italians are supposed to treat their women.”
I take in Leanna’s long, auburn hair and green eyes. “You’re Italian?” I ask. “You look as Irish as they come.”
Carter guffaws while Leanna digs in her purse and pulls out a family photo to show me. “My mom is Irish, and my dad is Italian. I’m the only child out of seven of us who has red hair, green eyes, pale skin, and freckles. I’m often referred to as ‘the red-headed stepchild’ unless I’m standing next to my mom.”
I glance down at the picture, and it’s hard to miss Leanna and her mother among the throng of men and women with black locks. “Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said that you have a large family.”
“Yep. It’s a blessing and a curse,” she says.
Leanna’s about to elaborate when the words of BobbyMcFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” drift across the water, and the boat with “Keys to Romance Charter” written on the side passes us by. The dozen or so people on the vessel wave like they’re setting off on a long voyage, and we wave back. I notice Jessie and Elijah toward the bow. “It doesn’t look like the pending storm stopped them from setting sail. I pray they’ll be all right.”
“Knowing Jessie, she’ll think the storm is just one more layer of adventure and shout, ‘Bring it on!’” Carter says, deadpan. Roger and Leanna both bob their heads in agreement. “Jessie is as daring as they come and doesn’t let fear stop her. A few waves and some rain aren’t going to deter her from getting information.”
I hope he’s right because I really want to know what was happening last night and if it has anything to do with my parents’ disappearance. We finish up lunch, with Roger and I saying our goodbyes and heading on our merry way.
We find ourselves standing at the activities desk in the main lobby, talking to a young man named Archie. Roger is finding out more about the boat rental, which is next on our agenda of things to accomplish for the day when the sound of a diesel engine captures my attention.
Several people with shopping bags step off the short bus, which has the resort logo painted on the side. I step in front of Roger and point to the bus. “Hey, Archie. Where does that bus go?” I ask.
“That’s our shuttle. It goes from here to the excursion port and then into downtown Key West. The Shuttle departs the lobby at the top and bottom of the hour, with ten-minuteintervals between the stops. If you hurry, you guys can save yourself the walk to the excursion center where the rentals are located.”
Roger and I thank Archie and give him a backward wave as we hurry through the lobby. The bus is about to pull away when I yell, “Wait for us!”
The driver opens the door and grins, “If time stops for such a lovely lady, then so can I. Welcome aboard! My name is Juan, and I am at your service.”
We take the seats closest to Juan, and Roger begins peppering him with routine questions about his job. Things like, ‘How long have you been working here?’ and ‘What do you enjoy most about your job?’”
