LITMIR.BIZ

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redhead who’d been cheerfully refilling his glass of iced tea for the past hour. “No thanks, Tess.”

      Except for an introduction to Naomi Brightman. That would be nice. She’d been in her room in the tower for over an hour now. He knew that because he’d kept her in his sights ever since she’d left the ferry. Dane had no doubt that the FBI and the police would soon figure out she’d come to her home on Belle Island. But for now MacFarland Investigations, the firm he ran with his brother Ian, appeared to be the only ones on the scene.

      Except for Michael Davenport. Gut instinct told Dane that the swindler was probably already here and would make contact with Naomi soon. And so far, she hadn’t been lured out onto the balcony by the breathtaking view.

      He handed Tess the bill he’d already signed to his room. “I thought I’d stay here and read for a bit more.”

      “No prob. During the summer months, the courtyard is one of our most popular spots and it’s open to Haworth House guests twenty-four-seven.”

      Dane considered that providential. The hotel itself was a three-story structure built around an inner courtyard lined with porticoes. One side opened into the lobby, and through an archway on the other, guests could access a stairway that descended to the beach. Dane’s location at a table beneath one of the porticoes offered him a perfect view of the balcony that opened off Naomi Brightman’s room. So far she hadn’t made an appearance, but that might be providential, too. He was going to have to tread carefully with her. She’d already managed to throw him off a bit. It hadn’t been a part of his plan to talk to her on the ferry.

      But there’d been something about the way she’d looked, standing alone at the railing, and he’d felt the tug of sympathy in every fiber of his being.

      He lifted his gaze to her balcony. He’d been in her bedroom two days ago on a reconnaissance mission. Once he’d cracked the primitive code she and her sisters used to communicate and learned that she was definitely coming to Haworth House, he’d assigned a man to watch her apartment in Boston, and he’d taken a quick trip to Belle Island to get the lay of the land.

      Tess tucked the leather folder containing his bill into her pocket. “We’ve never had a priest stay here before.”

      He and Ian had prepared for that question when Dane had chosen to masquerade as a man of the cloth. “My bishop is interested in finding locations for spiritual retreats.”

      “Oh, Haworth House has a lot of spaces to retreat to. You should talk to our manager, Mr. Cooper.”

      He smiled at her. “I’ll do that, Tess.” More importantly, he intended to talk to Naomi Brightman about it. It would be his initial reason for meeting with her.

      “I’m going off the clock until tomorrow morning. Will I see you then?” Tess asked.

      “You bet.” He’d be here until he got his hands on the elusive Michael Davenport. According to his FBI informant, Naomi Brightman had been quite candid with both the police and the FBI. Davenport had told her that he would be in touch. And every instinct that

      Dane had told him the swindling con man would keep his word.

      Part of Davenport’s method of operation was to use women as either partners or patsies in his schemes. During the last con he’d worked in Kansas City he’d stashed his ill-gotten gains with a woman partner until the heat was off. In the end, he’d gotten away with the money. His partner had ended up dead.

      Davenport had stashed something with Naomi this time. Dane was sure of it. Because of her squeaky clean record, he figured her for a patsy, not a partner. But that didn’t mean she was in any less danger. What he knew for sure was that Davenport hadn’t left the Boston area. In the past fourteen days, he’d been spotted three times. There was only one reason for Michael Davenport to take the risk of hanging around. He didn’t have access yet to the one hundred million plus he’d embezzled.

      Dane had a three-year-old score to settle with Davenport. This time, nothing would stop him from getting his man.

      “See you tomorrow, then, Father.” With a salute, Tess whirled and hurried back into the hotel. The bubbly and talkative waitress had provided some background information, but thanks to Ian’s meticulous research, there was little that Dane didn’t already know about Naomi Brightman and Haworth House.

      When his cell phone rang, Dane checked the caller ID and then grinned. Speak of the devil. “What’s up?”

      “Just checking in,” Ian said. “How’s the priest thing going?”

      “So far, so good.”

      As an investigator, Dane often assumed different personas. During his early years when he’d been in foster homes or on the street, he’d discovered and honed a chameleon-like talent for becoming whatever was needed to get him out of a jam. The decision in this instance for him to pose as a priest had been influenced by Ian’s insight into Naomi Brightman’s very Catholic background.

      Technically, Ian was his half brother. He’d been nine and Ian seven when their mother had died and they’d been split up by social services. They had two other half siblings—a girl and a boy. Somewhere.

      “I’ve got the waitress completely fooled,” Dane said.

      Ian gave an appreciative laugh.

      Thanks to the family that had adopted him, Ian had become an expert on all things Catholic. And he maintained that Catholic women had an instant trust in priests. They confided in them. Ian swore his adoptive mother had been “best buds” with a whole string of parish priests. Dane’s only experience with women and their relationships with priests was the second season of The Sopranos, when Tony’s wife had been really chummy with one.

      “I have yet to put this little masquerade to the test. I haven’t seen her since I arrived, and I still have to wangle an introduction.”

      “It’s going to work like a charm. You’ll see.”

      Dane was banking on it. He’d gone along with Ian because he needed a cover that would allow him to win Naomi Brightman’s trust in a short amount of time. The sooner he figured out just how she fit into Davenport’s scheme, the better. And he needed to be close by when Davenport contacted her.

      Plus, posing as a priest might also help him with his other problem. He’d felt a connection to Naomi Brightman even before he’d seen her in person. That wasn’t like him at all. Long ago, he’d learned to keep an emotional distance between himself and any case he was working.

      He’d decided that the reason for his reaction to her was because they’d both experienced the responsibility of being the oldest sibling. Of course, their stories were vastly different. She’d never been separated from her sisters, and he’d lost everyone.

      He shifted his eyes to the balcony outside her bedroom. But when he’d first seen her in the flesh, his reaction had gone far beyond empathy. A raw sexual awareness had shot through him like a lance. It was a purely visceral response that he couldn’t seem to control. And the experience had repeated itself in one way or another each time he’d seen her since.

      At first he’d tried to prevent it, then he’d tried to analyze it. Finally he’d settled for trying to get used to it.

      And that wasn’t going very smoothly. He’d very nearly reached out to touch her when he’d talked to her on the ferry. The urge to lay a hand on her arm or on the side of her face had been so strong. As a priest, he’d have to keep that impulse in check.

      “You still there, Dane?”

      “Yeah.” Annoyed with himself, he dragged his eyes away from Naomi’s balcony.

      “For a moment there, I thought I’d lost you. I take it you haven’t seen our other friend, either?”

      “You’ll be the first to know. He wasn’t on the ferry.” But Dane hadn’t expected him to be. The man was smart. He’d have known that Naomi would come to Haworth House just as

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