His Only Obsession (Protectors #27) Read online

  The first thing she noticed when she entered the lobby was that it was air-conditioned. Thank goodness. Now, if only the rooms were.

  The second thing she noticed was that the lobby was empty. Not a single soul in sight, except the man behind the registration counter. This hotel probably wasn’t a tourist favorite.

  She walked over to the lone man, smiled and said, “Do you speak English?” She knew a few words and phrases in Spanish, but didn’t know enough to carry on a decent conversation.

  “Sí, señorita, I speak English,” the man replied, his accent heavy.

  “I’m Dr. Emery Arnell’s daughter. I’m here to join my father. Would you please telephone his room and tell him that I’ve arrived.”

  The man smiled. “It will do no good to telephone his room.”

  “And why is that?” Gwen asked.

  “He will not answer the telephone.”

  “He won’t? Why not?”

  “Because he is not here. Dr. Arnell left this afternoon.”

  “He left? Are you saying he checked out of the hotel?”

  “Sí, señorita. Dr. Arnell and Mr. Elders are gone.”

  “Where did they go?”

  The man shrugged. “I do not know.”

  “Does anyone here at the hotel have any idea where my father and his assistant went?”

  “Perhaps, but I am the only one here now. Ria may know, but she works in the mornings, cleaning the rooms. I saw her speaking to Mr. Elders several times. Very friendly.”

  Knowing temporary defeat when it slapped her in the face, Gwen nodded, then asked, “Do you have a room available for tonight?”

  “Sí, sí. You may have your father’s room. It is nice and clean and faces the street and not the alley.”

  “I’ll take it,” Gwen said. “By the way, is there a restaurant nearby?”

  “Sí. The Fiesta, down the street.” He pointed in the direction. “They serve good pescado frito and cold beer. Very cheap.”

  Gwen thanked him, signed the register and took the key he offered. After dinner she would get some rest, then tomorrow she’d question the day staff and begin searching for her father. God only knew where he’d gone or what kind of trouble he would get into before she found him.

  Chapter 2

  The Fiesta turned out to be a bar and grill located a block from the hotel and on the opposite side of the street. Loud laughter and the roar of conversation almost drowned out the live band. Although seemingly clean, the place reeked of smoke from cigarettes and cigars. Apparently there wasn’t a hostess, so Gwen found a small empty table in the middle of the room, feeling rather conspicuous as a lone American woman among so many locals. But within minutes the waitress who handed her a menu put her at ease.

  “Our speciality is pescado frito, but I recommend the empanadas and a cold beer.” The middle-aged redhead spoke with a definite Yankee accent.

  “You’re an American.” The comment popped out of Gwen’s mouth.

  The waitress grinned. “Sure am. Born and raised in New York. Outside Buffalo to be exact. What about you?”

  “I’m from Alabama.”

  “A Southern belle, huh?”

  “Southern, yes. A belle, no.”

  “You know, you look familiar.” The waitress studied Gwen, giving her a once-over, from head to toe. “Have you been in here before tonight? I swear I’ve seen you somewhere. I never forget a face.”

  “This is my first night here at the Fiesta and my first trip to Puerto Nuevo.”

  The waitress grimaced. “It’ll come to me. I’ll figure out how I know you.” She glanced at the menu she’d handed Gwen. “So, what will it be?”

  “Oh, the empanadas and a cold beer sounds fine.”

  “Coming right up.”

  By the time the waitress returned with her meal, Gwen had already declined two invitations, one from a gentleman who wanted her to join him at the bar and the other from a man who had asked if he could join her.

  “Here you go.” The waitress placed the dish in front of Gwen. “Need a refill on that beer?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “I noticed you’ve had to deal with a few of our local Romeos. If you wind up with one you can’t handle, just let me know.”

  “Thank you, Ms….?”

  “Tammy Peloso, but just call me Tam.”

  Gwen held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Tam, I’m Gwen. Gwen Arnell.”

  Tam shook her hand, then stepped back, stared at her and laughed as she clicked her fingers together. “Damn, no wonder you looked familiar. You’re The Professor’s daughter, little Gwendolyn.”

  “You know my father?”

  “Well, can’t say that I know him all that well, but he’s eaten lunch and dinner here every night for a week now. And he showed me a picture of his little girl once. His precious Gwendolyn.” Tam studied Gwen’s face. “It was an old picture. You couldn’t have been more than sixteen. You were at a pier somewhere. There was a boat in the background.”

  “Oh, yes, I remember the photograph. It was taken when I was eighteen and went on an expedition with my father.”

  “Have you come to Puerto Nuevo to join your dad on his search for the lost island?” Tam asked, a hint of humor in her voice.

  Gwen sighed. “I’ve come to find out who his backers are and if they’re on the up and up.”

  “Taking care of the old man, huh? Good for you. He seems like a nice enough old guy, if a little odd. Sorry, but that’s the truth.”

  “No apologies necessary. My father is a bit odd.”

  “Why didn’t he come to dinner with you tonight?”

  “I don’t know where he is,” Gwen admitted. “When I arrived at his hotel, he’d already checked out, and I have no idea where to start looking for him.”

  “Hmm…” Tam frowned. “Have you checked out the Yellow Parrot? I know The Professor’s girlfriend especially likes that place.”

  Girlfriend? What girlfriend? “What’s the Yellow Parrot, another bar and grill?”

  Tam chuckled. “It’s a bar all right, but they don’t serve any food. Just loud music, liquor, street whores and your choice of drugs.”

  “This woman you refer to as my father’s girlfriend—”

  “He didn’t tell you about her, did he? Can’t say I blame him. She’s a lot younger than he is, and my guess is that she’s after your old man for his money.”

  Her father’s money? That was a laugh. “Do you think someone at this Yellow Parrot might know where my father is?”

  “They might, but if you go there, be careful. It’s no place for a lady.”

  Will checked into his hotel, a local Day’s Inn, then set up his computer and contacted Sawyer McNamara with an update.

  “There’s a possibility the Kress girl and her friend aren’t missing,” Will said. “It seems the Boyd girl has been chasing after some young guy, and it could be the girls hooked up with him. If that’s the case, then it’s just a matter of tracking them down.”

  “I don’t think I’ll tell Mr. Kress that his daughter might be part of a ménage à trois and just lost track of time.”

  Will chuckled. “Cheryl Kress’s friends staying at the villa don’t seem concerned. They think her father overreacted when he found out she wasn’t there and they let it slip that she’d been gone all night.”

  “Kress is a wealthy man. His first thought was probably that someone kidnapped his only child, but when he didn’t get a ransom note or call, he came up with other equally frightening scenarios.”

  “Kidnapping, rape or murder aren’t necessarily illogical thoughts,” Will said. “Look, Cheryl’s friends told me that this guy hangs out at a place called the Fiesta Bar and Grill. I’m heading over there after I freshen up. Maybe someone saw Cheryl and Tori last night and can give me an idea where to find them.”

  Fifteen minutes later, after shaving, combing his hair and scrubbing his hands, Will headed out of the hotel. He asked the desk clerk for directions to the F
iesta Bar and Grill, which turned out to be less than a five-minute drive from where he was staying.

  The exterior of the old building was painted brick red and the front door a bright turquoise. He could hear blaring music and loud voices coming from inside. He went in and headed straight for the bar. If anybody in a place like this knew something useful, it would be the bartender. After ordering a beer, Will flashed a hundred-dollar bill and recent photographs of Cheryl and Tori.

  “Have you seen either of these girls recently? Like last night?”

  The bartender snatched the hundred bucks from Will’s hand, then turned and filled up a tankard of beer and set it on the bar in front of him. “Pretty American girls. The blonde was laughing and talking to a young guy last night and later both girls left with him.”

  “What time?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Before or after midnight?”

  “Before.”

  “Do you have any idea where they went when they left here?”

  The bartender hesitated. Will took a fifty from his pocket. The bartender eyed the bill greedily. When he reached for it, Will jerked it back and shook his head.

  “Information first,” Will told him.

  “I heard the guy say he needed to meet up with somebody at the Yellow Parrot.”

  “And where can I find this Yellow Parrot?”

  “Four blocks from here, closer to the wharves, on the corner of Poc Na and Kukulcan.”

  Will handed the bartender the fifty, then took a hefty swig from the tankard and walked out of the bar and grill. If luck was on his side, he might have the case of the missing heiress wrapped up by the end of the night.

  Gwen took a taxi to the Yellow Parrot. With each passing block, she grew more tense. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this dive was in the worst part of town. But living alone and occasionally working late hours, Gwen had learned to take care of herself. She’d attended several self-defense classes, but luckily had never faced a situation where she had needed to put any of the moves she’d learned into practice.

  The minute she entered the bar, she realized that a smart woman would have brought a gun with her. The interior was hot, smelly and dirty. If that wasn’t bad enough, the air was so smoky that it looked as if a pea soup fog had settled inside the building. In comparison, the Fiesta Bar and Grill was upscale. Before she had gone three feet, an old drunk came up to her and asked for money. Sidestepping him, she searched for someone who looked as if he or she might actually work here, someone other than the prostitutes who were trolling for customers.

  After fending off a couple of grasping young men and ignoring several vulgar propositions—all spoken in an odd mixture of Spanish and English—Gwen found the bar. She ordered a beer from the burly, bearded bartender. When he set the beer in front of her, she took the opportunity to speak to him.

  “I’m looking for a man. An older American man, in his seventies. He was probably with a younger woman. This man is my father and—”

  “Yo no hablo Ingles.”

  “Oh.” He didn’t speak English and she didn’t speak Spanish. Now what?

  While she was considering her options, Gwen noticed a young man in skin-tight black pants and a black shirt open all the way down the front, easing closer and closer to her as he made his way past the other patrons at the bar.

  Great! This was all she needed, some horny young guy mistaking her for a prostitute. Although she had dark hair and eyes, she certainly didn’t look like one of the native girls, not with her distinct Anglo-Saxon facial features.

  “Señorita.” His voice was softly accented and slightly slurred. His breath smelled of liquor. “You are all alone, sí?”

  “Please, go away,” Gwen said. “I’m not interested.”

  He laughed as if he found her attitude amusing. “Then it is for me to make you interested. I am Marco. And you are…?”

  “Leaving,” Gwen said.

  She realized it had been a mistake to come here alone tonight. She’d do better to come back tomorrow and try to speak to the owner. But when Gwen tried to move past her ardent young suitor, he reached out and grabbed her arm. She went rigid.

  Looking him right in the eyes, she told him, “Let go of me. Right now.”

  “But you cannot leave.” He got right up in her face. “The night is young.”

  Gwen tugged on her arm, trying to break free. He tightened his hold, his fingers biting into her flesh. With her heart beating rapidly as her basic fight or flight instinct kicked in, she glared at the man.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time to let me go.”

  Grinning smugly, he grabbed her other arm, holding her in place.

  Suddenly, seemingly from out of nowhere a big hand clamped down on Marco’s shoulder, jerked him back and spun him around, freeing Gwen. She staggered slightly, but managed to hold her balance as the tall, lanky man in jeans and cowboy boots shoved her would-be suitor up against the bar.

  “I believe the lady asked you real nice to let her go,” the man said in a deep Texas drawl. “Where I come from, a gentleman respects a lady’s wishes.”

  Marco grumbled something unintelligible in Spanish. Probably cursing, Gwen thought. Or maybe praying. If she were Marco, she’d be praying that the big, rugged American wouldn’t beat her to a pulp.

  When the Texan released Marco, the young man made a poor decision. He came at the other man, intending to fight him. Gwen’s rescuer took Marco out with two swift punches, sending the younger man to the floor. Gwen glanced down at where Marco lay sprawled flat on his back.

  Her hero turned to her. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

  She nodded. This man was about six-two, with a sunburned tan, sun-streaked brown hair and azure-blue eyes.

  “What’s a lady like you doing in a place like this?” he asked.

  “Um…searching for my father,” she managed to say.

  “Come on, I’d better get you out of here. Our friend—” he hitched his thumb downward at Marco “—might have some buddies itching for a fight.”

  “Actually, I was just leaving. I just need to call a taxi.”

  When a rumble arose from several men nearby, her rescuer grasped Gwen’s arm and led her through the filthy, smoky bar and out onto the sidewalk. Once in the fresh air, Gwen took a deep breath.

  “My name is Will Pierce,” he said. “I’m a private investigator for Dundee’s in Atlanta, Georgia.” He pulled out his wallet and showed her his driver’s license and an ID card. “If you’ll allow me, I’d be glad to take you back to your hotel.”

  “Thank you. I…I’d appreciate that.” Gwen knew she was taking a chance by trusting this man, but instinct told her she was safe with him. “I’m Gwen Arnell.” Only in business situations did she introduce herself as Dr. Arnell.

  “Look, Gwen, would you mind waiting in my rental car?” he asked. “I’ll give you the keys and you can lock yourself in. I really need to go back inside and speak to the bartender.”

  “He doesn’t speak English.”

  “That’s okay. I speak enough Spanish to get by.”

  “You said you’re an investigator. Are you here in Puerto Nuevo on a case?”

  “Yeah, it seems some rich man’s spoiled daughter didn’t come home to her papa’s villa last night and he’s worried about her. More than likely she spent the night with a guy, but I got a tip that they were headed here last night. I need to check it out.”

  Without conscious thought of what she was doing, Gwen grabbed Will’s arm. “When you ask him about this girl and her boyfriend, would you also ask him if he’s seen an elderly American man, around seventy, with a younger woman. The old man would have been talking about a great adventure he was going on.”

  “The old man, I assume he’s your father?”

  “Yes.” Gwen nodded.

  “By any chance do people refer to him as The Professor?”

  Gwen gasped. “Yes, but how did you—”

  �
��Your father has a young research assistant named Jordan?”

  “Yes, Jordan Elders. He is one of my father’s former students. My father was a botany professor before he retired a few years ago.”

  “Ms. Arnell, it would seem that your search and mine overlap,” Will said. “The young man who my client’s daughter might be with is your father’s assistant, Jordan Elders.”

  Realizing she was holding fiercely to this stranger’s arm, Gwen released him and leaned her body away from his. “I was told my father checked out of his hotel this afternoon, before I arrived, but I have no idea where he’s gone.”

  “I’d say when we find Jordan Elders, I’ll find my client’s daughter and your father.”

  Thank you, God! Gwen said a hurried, silent prayer. Just when she thought it might be impossible to find her father and help him, a higher power had sent Will Pierce to her, an honest-to-goodness private detective.

  “Where’s your car?” she asked, suddenly feeling more confident. “I’ll wait for you while you go inside and speak to the bartender.”

  Will grinned. Gwen’s stomach flip-flopped. Not a good sign. She seldom reacted to a man’s sexual charm. Burned once. Twice shy. A brief marriage that had ended in a heartbreaking divorce when she was twenty-two had taught her to steer clear of sexual entanglements. When she dated, which wasn’t that often these days, she chose stable, reliable, boring men.

  “It’s the blue hatchback.” He pointed to the small car parked on the street about forty yards from where they stood, then he tossed her the keys. “Lock yourself in. Put the keys in the ignition. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  A few minutes turned into half an hour. After fifteen minutes she’d lowered the car’s windows several inches to let in cooler air. After twenty minutes she started to worry. What was taking him so long? Was he all right?

  Finally, just as she reached for the door handle intending to get out of the car and go back inside the Yellow Parrot to search for Will, he came out of the bar and straight to the car. She leaned across the driver’s seat and unlocked the door. He got in, slid under the steering wheel and shut the door. Without saying a word, he started the engine.