Fields' Guide to Abduction, - [famous ebook reader TXT] 📗

“Poppy!”

Seriously? Could I not walk five steps with being recognized and stopped?

I turned.

Mike had followed me. “I just got a text from Mia. She’s coming tomorrow.”

“She’s staying in my villa.” I looked up at his smiling face—at a smile that looked more genuine than any he’d shared with me thus far. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“No worries.” His grin widened. “I’m taking you two to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good. Text me later and we’ll set it up.” I side-stepped away. Slowly. My feet now hurt worse than my hamstrings—maybe four inch heels had been a bad idea. “Good night.”

I resumed my push through the crowd.

“Poppy?”

Again?

I turned and stared up at a man who looked vaguely familiar. Dark hair, strong jaw, and very white teeth. I knew him. Somehow. “Hi,” I said brightly. “It’s nice to see you.” What was his name? I searched my memory. Nothing.

He extended a hand. “Brett Cannon. We met on your mother’s set last summer. For the movie she shot in Melbourne.”

A surge of gratitude warmed me. If I had a dollar for every conversation I’d had with people’s whose names were complete mysteries, I could buy my own private jet.

Brett Cannon. Private banker from a bank in Hong Kong of all places. He’d been star-struck, ping-ponging around the set, and getting on everyone’s last nerve. Since he’d been there at the behest of one of the film’s investors, everyone had gritted their teeth and endured his inane conversation.

Brett claimed my hand and pumped my arm. “I didn’t think I’d know anyone here.”

How lucky we were to have run into each other. Brett Cannon was the mushy, too sweet cherry on the melting ice cream sundae of my week. I could at least be polite. “What brings you here?”

“One of my clients is an investor. Great place, huh?”

“Great.” I glanced around us. Beautifully dressed beautiful people were sipping drinks like they’d never get another chance. “Really great.”

He blinked at my lack of enthusiasm.

“It is great. It really is.” Why did I feel the need to placate him? “I’m not feeling well, so it’s hard to muster the excitement this place deserves.”

His face cleared.

“Listen, Brett. I really don’t feel we—”

“Did you drink the water?”

I held up my bottle. “No. I just don’t feel we—”

“Because everyone says not to drink the water.” He nodded sagely.

“Excellent advice. But it’s not the water. I didn’t drink the water.”

“Then what’s wrong? The food here is excellent. It couldn’t be the food.”

“I’m sure it’s not the food—”

“Everything I’ve eaten has been top-notch.”

“I had a wonderful lunch.”

“Then what’s wrong? If there’s anything wrong with your stay, please tell me. It’s very important that this week—” he waved his arm, a grand gesture that encompassed everything from the hotel to the cabanas on the beach “—be a huge success.”

It wasn’t the water or the food or the service—I was seeing dead people. “Too much sun and too much time spent with the resort’s personal trainer.”

“Rosa?”

Rosa the sweetly smiling sadist. “That’s her name. She’s tough.” A massive understatement.

“I was supposed to work out with her in the morning but—” he held up his drink “—I think I’ll cancel.”

“Wise move.” I edged a step away. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to turn in.”

For a half-second Brett’s face darkened—or maybe it was a trick of the shifting fairy lights. “It’s early. You won’t have one drink with me?”

Again, I held up my half-full water bottle. “Not tonight.”

“Just one drink? Please?” He flashed his white teeth at me. “I was in Dubai last week. I’d love to tell you about it.”

God forbid. My eyes glazed at the mere thought.

“Really, it’s the best story. I was meeting with a Saudi prince and—”

“Brett, not tonight.” I shook my head and winced like there was an ice pick in my skull, then, in case he missed the hint (entirely possible) I crossed my arms over my lower abdomen and groaned. “Maybe you can tell me tomorrow. Right now, I need to lie down.”

“Let me walk you to your room.”

“No. Thanks, but no.”

I hunched over and took a few slow steps, then, over my shoulder, I said, “Good night.”

I felt his gaze on me as I walked away. I stumbled through the crowd—method acting a woman with a stomach ache.

I didn’t stop walking—not till the party was well behind me. Only then did my back straighten.

The sounds of the night—the occasional bird call, the hum of insects, the breeze rustling the palm fronds—were louder now. Or perhaps they were the same and the sounds from the party were farther away.

The warm breeze caressed my skin.

A shiver raced down my spine.

I paused and glanced over my shoulder. No one was there. No one. But my skin prickled with the weight of someone’s gaze.

First I’d seen Jake and now this feeling of being watched—being hunted. I was being ridiculous. I took a tiny step.

Crack!

A sound that didn’t belong.

My heart lurched toward my throat.

I stopped again.

Looked around again.

Saw no one again.

“You’re being stupid,” I muttered under my breath.

I felt stupid. And achy. And paranoid. And—there was that visceral shiver again—afraid.

I hurried down the path toward my villa.

Alone.

I should have let Mike escort me to my door.

Even Brett would have been better than the dread that walked beside me.

Crack!

“Hello?” I hated that my voice shook. I breathed deep. “Is someone out there?”

The night answered with its usual sounds.

My dad had been an Army Ranger and he’d started me in Krav Maga classes as soon as I was old enough to kick. As a fearless thirteen-year-old, I’d known exactly how to protect myself. But I’d moved in with Chariss and the woman I’d become was achy, out of practice and scared.

My dad appeared before me on the path, shaking his head in disappointment. How had I let this happen? His daughter should know how to take care of herself, protect herself.

Great, now I was seeing two dead people.

I pushed past the man who wasn’t there, ran the remaining distance to my villa, locked myself inside, and leaned on the door until my heart stopped hammering in my chest. It took a long, long time.