Chapter Twenty-One

At the door to Dillon’s cabin, Mitch gave a cursory knock. When no one answered, he turned the knob quickly, then swung open the door and hustled her inside.

The suite’s layout was similar to Karli’s, but the decor was all male. Teak wainscoting that matched the built-in chest of drawers and the carved headboard and footboard of a king-size bed gleamed in the afternoon light. Andrea inhaled and recognized the scent of Dillon’s aftershave.

She drew back and stared at the fireplace on the wall opposite the bed. Frowned. “Why in the world would someone put a fireplace on a boat?”

“Probably because he couldn’t find any other way to spend his money. Desperate times demand desperate measures.”

She gave him a withering look. “Don’t be petty. I doubt Dillon is that cavalier about his wealth that he throws it around just for the sake of spending.”

“Maybe not. But he does have a fireplace.”

“Point taken,” she conceded as she walked toward the eye-catching structure. “Maybe he sees himself as a distinguished English gentleman reading next to a fire. Could be he wanted the mantel so he’d have a place for his mementos.” She stared at a slightly yellowed black-and-white photograph in a bulky and ornate gilded frame. “I wonder if that’s his mother and father.”

Mitch walked toward her. “I’m not concerned about his decorating technique or family tree. I’m more interested in the strong signal registering on the sweeper.”

Andrea looked over his shoulder as he moved the meter across the items on the mantle. He stopped at the photograph. “Bingo.”

He handed her the meter and removed the framed photograph from the holder that affixed it to the mantle. He turned the frame over and examined the back, then ran his finger over one edge. “There’s a false back on this section of the frame.”

Removing a Swiss army knife from his pocket, he unfolded a small blade and inserted the point into the tiny notch on the side. A one-inch-square piece popped out and revealed a tiny camera.

Andrea gasped. “That would have been pointed right at Dillon’s bed.”

Mitch scanned the respective positions and nodded. “I don’t think the person who planted this was strictly interested in stealing Stone’s business secrets.”

“Dillon has a playboy reputation. Maybe he’s sleeping with somebody else’s wife. This could have been planted by a private investigator trying to get evidence to implicate Dillon in a divorce.”

“That would be my guess.” He frowned. “I’d like to know when it was planted and how the person got on the boat.”

Andrea hummed a low note in response, although her ears were ringing and she’d hardly heard the comment. She blinked rapidly several times before opening her eyes wide and staring at the tiny camera. If she’d gone through with her plan last night and had sex with Dillon, every minute of their encounter might have been caught on tape.

Her stomach rolled, and she fought the choking sensation in her throat. Shit. Even if she’d just come into his room and tried unsuccessfully to seduce him, the whole thing would have been recorded. Someone would have seen her in the almost nonexistent negligee. Someone could have heard the whole embarrassing conversation when he declined to take her to bed.

She licked her lips and watched the camera as if it were a piranha about to jump up and bite off her face. “Are you going to send that to the lab, too?”

Mitch examined the camera. “Good question.” He turned it sideways. “I think it’s switched on and off by remote control. It was probably planted by someone who has knowledge of when Dillon is aboard. Either they have direct availability to info on Dillon’s whereabouts or are watching Dillon or the boat.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Some of these things also have motion sensors or a timer to turn on in the evening and off when the interesting stuff is over.”

Andrea peered at it. “That looks like it plugs into a microSD port. Maybe we should preview the content before we show whatever’s on it to anyone else. I think we owe Dillon the courtesy of keeping his secrets secret.”

Mitch nodded. “You’re probably right.”

“Bring it back to my cabin. We can plug it into Karli’s computer.”

…

Mitch set the laptop on the low built-in dresser in Karli’s cabin. He plugged the tiny memory stick into the computer, chose a compatible video program to run it, hit the start icon, and an image flashed on the screen. The background was similar to Dillon’s cabin, but not the same room.

Andrea said, “I don’t think this was recorded on this boat.”

He studied the walls and furnishings as he sat next to her on the bottom of the bed. “Stone had a different yacht before this one was launched.”

“If the photo was of his parents and important to Dillon, and he had it in his previous cabin, then he probably just had the decorator move it here,” Andrea theorized.

“That would be my guess, too. Whoever planted it probably hasn’t had an opportunity to change out the memory stick.” As Andrea shifted her position next to him on the bed, Mitch wondered if viewing the recording here, in her cabin, was a good idea. What if Fran came to the door or someone had seen them enter together? Even though he’d been careful and checked to be sure the hallway was empty, an unforeseen interruption could spark gossip among the crew and tarnish Karli’s reputation. Not to even mention that sitting on a bed with a woman as tempting as Andrea was a definite distraction. How was he supposed to concentrate?

Dillon’s voice was low in the background. “I thought you’d never get here.”

Mitch crossed his arms nonchalantly and put aside his concerns. He was already here. The best course of action was to view whatever the recording had captured quickly, get his too-vivid imagination out of Andrea’s cabin, and get back to tasks that were more pertinent to his assignment. “It must be both voice- and motion-activated.”

“Shhhh!”

A woman’s voice. “You need to learn to be more patient.”

Silence, then Dillon said, “I’ve been dying to touch your gorgeous body all night.”

Throaty, feminine laughter. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Silence. On the video and in Karli’s cabin.

A whisper on the video. Mitch gritted his teeth. Watching the recording with Andrea was definitely a bad idea.

…

Andrea watched a bare shoulder come into view with Dillon’s hand sliding over the skin and up to the nape of the woman’s neck. She gulped, hoping she was wrong about what they’d see in the next few minutes. Being with Mitch, sitting on her bed, shoulder to shoulder, was driving her hormones wild. Watching another couple fall naked into bed and make love would strain her tenuous control.

The woman said, “That feels so good.”

Andrea frowned. Had she heard that voice somewhere before? Someone who’d been at the party, maybe?

She concentrated on the image. The top of Dillon’s head filled the screen as he nuzzled his companion’s neck.

The woman said, “I love it when you do that.”

“Come to bed.”

Mitch cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “Let’s fast forward a bit.”

“Good idea.”

He rose and took a step toward the laptop, momentarily blocking Andrea’s view. He froze. His voice was a growl. “No one told me you knew Dillon before this assignment.”

“I didn’t. I—” He turned toward her then, and she saw the woman’s face on the screen. “Holy shit!”

He did a slow scan back and forth between Andrea and the image on the screen and said with a sneer, “I guess it’s hard to lie when you’re on tape.”

She glanced at him, angry that he was calling her a liar but too much in shock to defend herself. “Look again, ace. Use your good eye. I’m naturally a blonde. That’s not me.”

On screen, Dillon was caressing Karli’s breasts while kissing her neck. She was working at the buttons of his shirt.

Andrea felt like she was watching two speeding trains about to collide. She didn’t want to look, but couldn’t look away. Karli pushed Dillon’s shirt off his shoulders. He slipped her negligee off her body, and it pooled on the carpet at their feet. Then they were sinking onto the bed. Naked.

Mitch said, “Bullshit. If it’s not you, then it’s…” He stared at the image. His mouth dropped open. “Dillon and Karli? Lovers?”

She closed her eyes to block out the image of the nude couple on the bed. “Right there in living color.”

“This is definitely more information than I need or want to know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You can say that again. I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit across from him at a meal again without seeing this before my eyes. His sister, for heaven’s sake. Who would have guessed it?”

Mitch stopped the video and shut off the computer. He held the tiny memory device between his fingers. “No one. But even though no one would have guessed it, somebody might know.”

“True. If the signal is being transmitted off the ship, someone could have already seen this video.” She bit down on her bottom lip for a second. “If someone knew, there would probably be a scandal. Maybe Dillon’s lucky. There is a small possibility their secret’s still safe.”

“There’s also blackmail. Maybe the person just hasn’t hit Dillon up yet.”

“Good thought. He’d probably pay millions to make the tape go away.”

Mitch stuck the device in a small plastic bag, stuffed it into a pocket, and balled his hands at his sides. “The big question is whether this is connected to the threats on Karli’s life. And that question puts us in the middle of a nasty mess. Even if there’s a minuscule chance it has a connection, we have to bring it to Dillon’s attention and find out. I can’t imagine he’ll be too happy to discover his dirty little secret isn’t a secret any longer.”

Andrea slapped three fingers of her right hand against her forehead. “Damn. Karli’s negligees. No boyfriend, but a sleazy affair with her own brother.” She tried to imagine having sex with one of her brothers. “I may be sick.”

“If she were my sister, I’d want to protect her. Instead, Stone is behaving like an idiot. If this tape gets out, vile headlines and pornographic images of him and Karli will be splashed on the cover of every tabloid in the world. The paparazzi will have a field day. I need to talk to him right away.”

“This will probably turn my stomach, but I want to be there when you tell him we know he’s lower than whale crap.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going to take that approach. And you’re not coming along. This is better handled man to man.”

Twenty minutes later, Andrea paced the deck while Mitch talked to Dillon. She thought about the book in Karli’s cabin with the underlined words and dog-eared pages. Had Karli been trusting her heart when she’d gone to bed with her brother?

Or was there some other explanation for the images on the tape? Could the woman be someone else who looked a lot like Karli? She gave a weary shake of her head. Her resemblance to Karli was extraordinary. The odds against the woman on the tape being someone other than Karli would be astronomical.

Likewise, the possibility that the images had been altered or were fake was slim to nonexistent. A later version could be questioned, but the footage she and Mitch had seen had come straight from the camera. As much as she wanted to believe there was a logical explanation or a mistake, she couldn’t deny what she’d seen.

She glanced over and studied Mitch’s posture, remembered a picture she’d once seen of a stoic Buckingham Palace guard ignoring the taunts of a tourist as he stood his ground. She tried to read the men’s faces, impatient to know what was being said, fervently wishing she could be the proverbial fly on the wall.

Suddenly the men separated, and Dillon bolted from the side deck. He yelled an order at a crew member, but she couldn’t make out his words.

She rushed up to Mitch as he approached with a dour expression. “What happened?”

“He’s pissed. Feels we invaded his privacy. Said we shouldn’t have viewed the video.”

“He has a point. But if we didn’t see what was on it, and he kept us in the dark, which he most likely would have, we’d never know whether the threats are connected.”

“We still don’t. Plus now we’re fired.”