I had to establish rules about how the trip would go. First, all discussions with Mike’s friend and the authorities would include me. Second, I would be the one dealing with Ben. And third—or should this have been the first—there would be no killing.
When I shut down my laptop, the dog leaped off the sofa.
“What’s with you and this Justin McElroy character, Miss Scarlett?” At the sound of her name, she came to attention. “Are you attracted to dangerous men? Or do you sense something I don’t?” She continued to stare at me. “Whatever. Let’s get you walked and fed, so you’ll be ready for Lesroy.”
. . . . .
McElroy pulled into my drive at exactly 5:00 a.m. Scarlett barked once, and I promised to be back before Christmas. She yawned and went back to sleep.
I trudged out the door, dragging my bags behind me. He bounded up the steps and made a move to take my luggage.
“Thank you, Mr. McElroy, but I’ve got it.”
“Okay, Miss Burnette.” He grinned and walked toward the SUV. The wheels on my suitcase snagged on the stone walkway. He maintained a neutral expression as I yanked it free, then opened the back of the vehicle and waited as I struggled to sling it in. After two unsuccessful attempts, he took it from me, and, with one hand, tossed it by his duffel.
The average December temperatures in Montañita were in the high seventies, so I packed light enough to get everything into one carry-on with the overflow stuffed into my computer case. Next to his, however, my luggage looked excessive.
He held the car door open for me. I wanted to shut it and reopen it on my own to emphasize my independence. Instead, I opted for a dignified ascent. Unfortunately, my jeans were too tight, and I was too short to carry it off. I ended up using the overhead hand grip to hoist myself, more forcefully than I intended, onto the seat. The straps of my passport holder got tangled with the buttons of my coat. While I tried to extricate myself, my unwanted traveling companion waited. I broke free and snapped myself in.
We drove in silence for several minutes while I rehearsed my three-point speech about not murdering Ben.
“I’m not sure what Mom and Mike told you about this trip, but all I want to do is find out what happened to my sister and...” My throat constricted, and I had to swallow hard before continuing. “And bring her body home.”
“Of course.” He kept his eyes on the road.
“And about that other, uh, thing, the one my mother wanted you to do.”
“You mean the agreement about how to handle the situation if we find out your sister’s death wasn’t an accident?”
“I just want you to understand I can’t be part of anything like, well, like that.”
He glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. “What is that, Miss Burnette?”
“You know perfectly well I’m talking about what you discussed with my mother.”
“We talked about a lot of different issues, including you. You need to narrow it down.” In profile, Justin McElroy’s full lips contrasted with his chiseled jaw.
“You talked about me?” I felt myself flushing. “Wait, never mind. What I’m trying to say is I don’t want you to…” I lowered my voice. “I don’t want you to kill Ben. I mean, that is absolutely unacceptable.”
“Unacceptable,” he echoed. “Sorry, but I’m not at liberty to discuss this issue with you, Miss Burnette. That arrangement is between me and your mother. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Client confidentiality and all. I can assure you, however, that I won’t put you in any compromising position. Any more concerns?”
“I’m serious, Mr. McElroy. Or should I say Captain McElroy?”
“Checking me out, Grace? I mean Miss Burnette.” He flashed ivory teeth at me.
“Just doing my homework. Anyway, I want to be sure you understand that if I think you’re about to do something violent, I’ll do whatever it takes to stop you.”
“Thanks for the warning,” he said as he pulled into international parking. “How about we finish outlining your terms after we get through security?”
We took the shuttle and were at our gate forty-five minutes before our 7:00 am boarding. Mike insisted on buying my ticket and had sprung for first class, not my usual method of traveling. An hour layover in Miami meant it would be at least eight hours before we reached our destination; first class definitely made for an easier trip.
There had been little opportunity to continue the conversation with my companion in the shuttle or the waiting area, neither of which were the best places to discuss delicate subjects. Settled in the plush leather seat beside him before take-off didn’t seem to be a good place to bring up an alternate course of action to assassination either. When it was safe to turn on my laptop, I continued reading about Montañita.
I learned the trendy spot was more than a destination for back-packing surfer types. Besides a high gringo population, people from all over South America called it home. Unlike the rest of the country where the authorities enforced rigid drug laws, the beach town was more relaxed. Filled with liberal tourists and active nightlife, it was the perfect place for Ben and Stella.
Before I read further, the pilot announced we were approaching Miami. I made it a point not to look at my seatmate during the short flight, but it was impossible to ignore him while attempting to get my carry-on from the overhead without injuring fellow passengers.
He reached past me, lifted the suitcase over my head, and dropped it in front of me. I struggled with balancing my computer case on
