Ambuckle’s signature. After signing, he handed her bills for the deposit. She appreciated the fact that Ambuckle always paid in cash, American. “Thanks. Glad to see you back, Mr. Ambuckle.”
“Can’t keep me away, missy.” With a whoosh and a grunt, he hefted the tanks on his shoulders. Liz watched him cross to the walkway before she filed the receipt. Unlocking her cash box, she stored the money.
“Business is good.”
She jolted at the voice and looking up again stared at Jonas Sharpe.
She’d never again mistake him for Jerry, though his eyes were almost hidden this time with tinted glasses, and he wore shorts and an open shirt in lieu of a suit. There was a long gold chain around his neck with a small coin dangling. She recalled Jerryhad worn one. But something in the way Jonas stood, something in the set of his mouth made him look taller and tougher than the man she’d known.
Because she didn’t believe in polite fencing, Liz finished relocking the cash box and began to check the straps and fasteners on a shelf of masks. No faulty equipment went out of her shop. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“You should have.” Jonas watched her move down the shelf. She seemed stronger, less vulnerable than she had when he’d seen her a week ago. Her eyes were cool, her voice remote. It made it easier to do what he’d come for. “You have quite a reputation on the island.”
She paused long enough to look over her shoulder. “Really?”
“I checked,” he said easily. “You’ve lived here for ten years. Built this place from the first brick and have one of the most successful businesses on the island.”
She examined the mask in her hand meticulously. “Are you interested in renting some equipment, Mr. Sharpe? I can recommend the snorkeling right off this reef.”
“Maybe. But I think I’d prefer to scuba.”
“Fine. I can give you whatever you need.” She set the mask down and chose another. “It isn’t necessary to be certified to dive in Mexico; however, I’d recommend a few basic lessons before you go down. We offer two different courses—individual or group.”
He smiled at her for the first time, a slow, appealing curving of lips that softened the toughness around his mouth. “I might take you up on that. Meantime, when do you close?”
“When I’m ready to.” The smile made a difference, she realized, and she couldn’t let it. In defense, she shifted her weight on one hip and sent him a look of mild insolence. “This is Cozumel, Mr. Sharpe. We don’t run nine to five here. Unlessyou want to rent some equipment or sign up for a tour, you’ll have to excuse me.”
He reached in to close his hand over hers. “I didn’t come back to tour. Have dinner with me tonight. We can talk.”
She didn’t attempt to free her hand but stared at him. Running a business had taught her to be scrupulously polite in any circumstances. “No, thank you.”
“Drinks, then.”
“No.”
“Miss Palmer…” Normally, Jonas was known for his deadly, interminable patience. It was a weapon, he’d learned, in the courtroom and out of it. With Liz, he found it difficult to wield it. “I don’t have a great deal to go on at this point, and the police haven’t made any progress at all. I need your help.”
This time Liz did pull away. She wouldn’t be sucked in, that she promised herself, not by quiet words or intense eyes. She had her life to lead, a business to run, and most important, a daughter coming home in a matter of weeks. “I won’t get involved. I’m sorry, even if I wanted to, there’d be nothing I could do to help.”
“Then it won’t hurt to talk to me.”
“Mr. Sharpe.” Liz wasn’t known for her patience. “I have very little free time. Running this business isn’t a whim or a lark, but a great deal of work. If I have a couple of hours to myself in the evening, I’m not going to spend them being grilled by you. Now—”
She started to brush him off again
Janwillem van de Wetering