Gone Tropical Read Online Free Page A

left. Got a couple of sterile samples for the boys, went through the trash bin. Found scratch paper with flight info, couple of other bits and pieces. Housekeeping disturbed me. I zipped out onto the terrace, and then took the long route down.”
    Sarge grinned. “Rappelled?”
    “Yep. Thank the boys who sent the backpack.”
    Unimpressed with the testosterone talk, Amy was about to remind them of her presence. She stopped herself in time. Jake rappelled down the side of the hotel? She took a covert glance in his direction. Now that was hot .
    Jake brought Sarge up to speed, and Amy wondered who “the boys” were. She had to admit, she was impressed. If Jake had determined that much in the few hours since he’d arrived in Sydney, he was good at his job. Damn good . Jake Turner was no sleazy, second-rate dumpster diver—not that she expected her father to hire such a person—but that had always been her understanding of private investigators.
    Out of several hours of habit, she scanned the lobby. The hotel had come to life in the last half hour.“So, Steven Fray, alias, Stuart Firth, has left town?” she asked.
    Jake gave a curt nod.
    She hadn’t thought of Fray having a new alias, he’d been Stephen Froman in Paris. Strange how aliases were, why did people use the same initials? “So, why’d you try to shut me up? If he’s gone, he’s gone.”
    “Had to—”
    “Why?”
    “Trail’s hot.”
    Amy glared at him. He did the same thing all the men in her life did, treated her like she wasn’t intelligent enough to understand, or like she was some damn princess who played dress-up all day.
    “That’s all I can tell you. Employed by your father.” Jake reached for the second piece of raisin toast, folded it over, took a huge bite, and chewed.
    The man was irritating, and he offered nothing, except to Sarge. Well, not nothing, she supposed. He had a gorgeous line-backer frame, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He wasn’t much taller than she was, maybe five-eleven.
    “You told me , at some ungodly hour of the morning”—she said firmly—“that if I did surveillance of the lobby, you would explain all. I do believe those were your exact words.”
    Sarge laughed, reached for his coffee.
    Jake wiped his fingers on a napkin. “Firth bolted in the early hours.” He rubbed at his right hand. “Someone tipped him off. The guy I shielded us from, let’s just say I’ve met him before. He’s bad news.”
    “It could have been Fray’s original plan to leave today,” Amy said. Something stunk, like perhaps police, or FBI, involvement. Steven always managed to give those people the slip. She figured he could smell them. “What’s with the bruised knuckles?”
    “Bar brawl. And Fray’s name is now Firth. Either way, he’s gone. The tail is still here. We ran into each other. I had a face mask on, not sure if he could I.D. me. That’s why I pretended we were a couple.”
    Okay, that makes sense, sort of.
    “For your safety, it’s important you don’t get involved,” Jake said. “Your father asked me to protect you, to locate you first, Firth second.”
    So, he can speak in complete sentences. Not that she liked what he had to say. “I don’t need protection.” She eyed him again. “Was that you earlier, pretending to be a parking attendant?”
    He nodded.
    “You had a good time with the receptionist,” Amy said dryly.
    “All in a day’s work.”
    Jake’s hair was short, dark, and he’d put gel in it. It had seemed softer, and not as dark, when he’d had the beard stubble and was dressed as a parking attendant. His eyes were greenish hazel, wide-set. They’d smoldered when he’d stood close. Now they were all business. A tiny shiver shot through her at the memory of the smoothness of his jaw grazing her cheek, and the lips…well she wasn’t going to think about them. Heat prickled her skin and she stared out the glass doors to the fountain.
    After a moment, she turned back with a