Blowout Read online

  “How will you get back here?”

  Pete didn’t answer.

  “You’re never coming back, are you?” Whatever skeletons hid in Pete’s closet, he wasn’t keen on discussing them.

  “Gotta get back to work.” Pete shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal. Then he disappeared around the corner without another word.

  16

  Kat returned to her chaise lounge to find Jace already there. He sat on the adjacent chair with a handful of books. He held up an Agatha Christie novel as she approached and looked displeased with her vanishing act.

  She couldn’t picture Raphael reading Agatha Christie, though she had no idea what kind of books he liked, or if he even read at all.

  Jace shook his head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. Why are you walking around? The swelling won’t go down unless you keep your leg elevated.”

  “You’re right.” At least he hadn’t asked where she’d gone. She wouldn’t dare accuse Raphael of the cave entrapment without solid proof for Jace. Raphael was a cunning and charismatic manipulator and he’d just twist her words around.

  Jace’s professional skepticism as a journalist had been replaced by admiration to the extent that he’d find her claim outrageous without proof. Instead of questioning Raphael’s every statement, he had been duped by his lies. Yet with Raphael’s impending departure, she had to expose him before it was too late. She didn’t even know where to start.

  “It could have been much worse. You’re very lucky to escape. Never explore a cave by yourself like that. No one even knew you were in there.”

  Not true, since Raphael knew her whereabouts. Not only had he known she was inside the cave, he had prevented her escape.

  “I know, stupid mistake.” Once Jace and Harry removed the rock from the cave entrance, they had spent a few minutes exploring the outer cave by flashlight. Unbeknownst to her, Kat had stood less than fifteen feet from a vertical shaft that plunged a hundred feet or more down. She shivered just thinking about it.

  “Next time, tell me where you’re going.” Careless missteps bothered Jace since they were easily preventable. As a search and rescue volunteer, he had witnessed many tragedies that resulted from poor planning. It irked him that she had gone off on her own in unfamiliar territory.

  “I will, promise.” Too bad Jace couldn’t see through Raphael’s veil of charisma. She needed proof of his character and ulterior motives. She couldn’t prove Raphael had trapped her in the cave. It was her word against Raphael’s.

  She had more immediate worries based on what Pete had just told her. If Raphael had originally planned to leave for Costa Rica today, why had he delayed things? He already had Gia’s money. Had he found another money-making opportunity? And why had he offered to bring them to De Courcy in the first place?

  Jace read her mind. “You know, Raphael is a smart guy. He’s doing us a huge favor by allowing us in on his investment opportunity. You sure you won’t change your mind?”

  “Friends and money don’t mix well, Jace.” Enemies and money were even worse.

  “This is different. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity that might never happen again. If we pass it up, we’ll miss the next big thing.”

  “If it’s so great, we’ll still be able to invest tomorrow. The company will need more money to expand.”

  Jace looked doubtful. “Maybe, maybe not. We should take a closer look. Gia’s smart and she’s invested.”

  “No, Jace.” Clearly Raphael was a con artist and she needed all her focus on helping Gia. “He can’t even show us any product, let alone sales and financial information.”

  “It was good enough for Gia to invest. She knows what she’s doing.”

  “From the sounds of it, Gia invested without looking at all those things.” Gia was blinded by love. Jace was blinded by the promise of riches.

  Jace sighed. “By the time you analyze it all to death, we’ll miss out on the opportunity.”

  “Maybe. But he’s short on details about how his product actually works. I can’t invest in something I don’t understand.”

  “You can ask him at dinner.” Jace held out his hand. “Let’s go.”

  “You mean you guys haven’t already eaten?”

  “Of course not. Everyone was looking for you. C’mon. I’m starving.” Jace was disappointed.

  “My stomach’s a bit queasy.” Her appetite had been replaced by a sick feeling in her gut. It scared her that Gia was in love with a man who thought nothing of leaving someone to die in a cave. What did he have in store for Gia? She couldn’t face Raphael without a plan of attack. “My leg is still sore too.”

  Jace gave her an I told you so look. “I’ll bring you back a snack.”

  He headed inside before she could answer.

  Great. Jace was mad at her again. So was everyone on board, and she had no proof to convince them otherwise. She had her work cut out for her if she was to expose Raphael’s true motives. Based on Pete’s comments, Raphael was about to take the money and run. He was about to put his plans into motion, and she had to stop him before it was too late.

  17

  Kat sat propped up on her stateroom bed, laptop open beside her. Thankfully she was able to get an Internet connection, but her online search for both Raphael and The Financier came up empty. A yacht like this probably showed up somewhere online, either in a photograph or on a manufacturer’s website. Her conversation with Pete had given her an idea.

  Only a handful of companies built large luxury yachts like Raphael’s, and she soon had a list of a half-dozen companies. The yachts were mostly hand built, and they often took a year or more to complete. If she found the shipbuilder, she might be able to trace the yacht’s ownership. One way or another, she’d expose Raphael as a fraud.

  Who would illegally enter Canada and risk having their multi-million dollar yacht seized? Not even a billionaire would do that. But a thief would.

  She scanned the list and clicked on the first name, Prima Yachts.

  Nothing.

  Her hopes already dashed, she checked the second entry on the list. Majestic Yachts, a company based in Seattle, Washington, had a listing of new and pre-owned yachts for sale. She smiled as she imagined billionaires trading in their older yachts for newer models, sort of like she did with her car. They probably didn’t wait a dozen years, though.

  A stroke of luck. A ship identical to The Financier was listed, except it had a different name. Catalyst was four years old, with an asking price of $6.9 million US dollars.

  The 150-foot yacht had four double cabins and accommodations for six crew. There were just four crew on board including Pete, so they probably had their hands full operating a ship meant for a larger crew. Raphael appeared uninvolved in the yacht’s operation, and she hadn’t seen a cook or other staff on board.

  A skeleton staff might be fine for short trips in sheltered waters, but no one would skimp on crew labor and risk a seven-million-dollar shipwreck.

  She scrolled through the Catalyst photographs, squinting to make out the details. The ship appeared identical to The Financier, right down the color schemes and furniture. It struck her as odd that a custom-built ship had an identical twin.

  She put the yacht search on hold for the moment and considered what she knew about Raphael.

  The fact that she had turned up nothing on Raphael convinced her he was a fake. But she had no concrete proof to show the others, especially Gia. Gia would never believe that the man she loved—and had invested with—had also duped her.

  Maybe Jace was right. Her line of work made her naturally suspicious of people. Rightly or wrongly, she was interfering in Gia’s life. What would Gia say if she knew Kat was searching Raphael’s background to find reasons for Gia to dump him? Gia would tell her to mind her own business.

  But keeping her worries to herself only hurt Gia in the end. Sometimes friends knew best.

  Despite her misgivings, her online search had revealed nothing at all about
Raphael. She should have found at least a smattering of public information on someone who claimed to be a billionaire. Yet there was nothing about him or his company. That in itself was a red flag.

  She had scrolled through all the beauty supply trade journals and company websites and came up empty. Then there was his yacht. Pete hadn’t confirmed The Financier was stolen, but he hadn’t denied it either. The Financier was either Catalyst’s very unlikely identical twin, or it was the Catalyst in disguise.

  Another odd thing about Raphael was the amount of leisure time he enjoyed. Kat had met plenty of billionaires and millionaires in her prior life as a finance consultant. She had yet to find a single tycoon who didn’t plan their schedule weeks in advance down to the nearest millisecond. Their leisure time was equally parsed. They rarely had time for spontaneous trips like Raphael’s spur-of-the-moment De Courcy Island excursion. Raphael was either unique or not who he pretended to be.

  Whoever Raphael really was, he was very good at covering his tracks. And he was about to disappear for good.

  She shut her laptop off. Raphael was the last person she wanted to see, but she had to go upstairs. It was a mistake to stay in the stateroom away from the others. Aside from Raphael himself, Gia was her only source of information to get at the heart of Raphael’s scheme. She needed to spend every waking moment around the couple to both expose his lies and prevent Gia from investing more.

  She checked her watch. Jace had only been gone twenty minutes, so it wasn’t too late for dinner. She slipped into her shoes. She could play nice for an hour or two.

  Kat exited the cabin and noticed the master stateroom door ajar. Gia must have returned to freshen up. Now was as good a time as any to talk to Gia privately and determine exactly how much Raphael had shared with her about his past.

  She knocked softly.

  No response.

  “Gia?”

  She peered through the door crack and saw no movement.

  Should she go in?

  She debated knocking louder but didn’t want anyone else to hear.

  This might be her only opportunity to get Gia alone, she decided. She inched the door open and stepped inside.

  The stateroom was empty. She turned to leave but hesitated. She hadn’t purposely trespassed, and she had a perfect opportunity for a quick look around. She might find a clue to unmask Raphael’s motives.

  What if she ran into Raphael? How on earth would she explain her reason for being here?

  She would use the excuse that Gia had asked her to grab something.

  She scanned the room again and headed for the bathroom, which was also vacant. The stateroom was twice the size of hers, and even more luxurious. Gia’s presence was everywhere, from the overflowing closet to the perfume and jewelry scattered about the dresser. She had pretty much moved in with Raphael.

  Kat limped towards the dresser and almost tripped over a woman’s wallet on the floor. She bent to pick it up, thinking it had fallen from Gia’s purse. She was about to place it on the dresser when she noticed the initials MB embossed on the worn black leather. A lot of designer wallets and purses had monograms, but this wallet was decidedly not designer ware. Aside from being old, the wallet was basic and utilitarian, the polar opposite of Gia’s glittery fashion taste. If it wasn’t Gia’s wallet, whose was it?

  One way to find out. Her heart pounded as she opened the wallet. She had absolutely no reason to be in Raphael and Gia’s stateroom, much less to be rifling through a stranger’s wallet.

  She pulled out a driver’s license. It belonged to a woman named Anne Bukowski. According to her identification, she was 30 years old and lived in Vancouver. Perhaps Gia or Raphael had found the wallet and planned to return it.

  Or perhaps Raphael had another girlfriend. She was betting on the second.

  “What are you doing in here?” Raphael stood in the doorway.

  Startled, Kat shoved the wallet in her back pocket. “Uh, just looking for Gia. I was supposed to meet her here.”

  “She’s upstairs, like everyone else.” Raphael swept his arm in an exit motion. “After you.”

  “Thanks.” She felt her face flush, uncertain if he had seen her pocket the wallet. If he had, he surely would have said something.

  The bigger question was, what was another woman’s wallet doing in Raphael’s room?

  There were any number of innocent explanations. Maybe he had found it, or perhaps it was left behind by a former guest. The more likely answer was that Anne was either a current or ex-girlfriend. She doubted that Gia had seen the wallet because she would have flipped out, and Kat would have heard of it.

  Gia would never know, now that Kat had removed the wallet from the stateroom. She would return it later. It would be best if Gia found it herself and questioned Raphael directly. It was none of her business, so she’d stay out of it.

  Whatever Raphael’s explanation, it probably wouldn’t fly with Gia. Gia might be temporarily heartbroken, but she would also break up with Raphael and maybe even get her money back. That might actually be a good thing. Kat didn’t hold out much hope for the latter, though.

  She ascended the stairs, deep in thought. She was no longer hungry, and with the wallet discovery, wanted only to return to the privacy of her stateroom. Who was Anne Bukowski, and how did she figure into Raphael’s scheme?

  18

  Kat brushed past Raphael and headed upstairs, one painful step at a time. Raphael followed close behind. As she limped upstairs, the wallet inched upwards in her back pocket. She reached behind and shoved it further down. If Raphael noticed, he didn’t say anything.

  How long had he watched her from the doorway? Her pulse quickened as she remembered the security cameras. He could have seen her enter the stateroom on CCTV. If he had, though, he would have confronted her about it. That didn’t mean he couldn’t review footage later, though. She could still be discovered.

  What was done was done, and there wasn’t much she could do about it. She would be more careful next time.

  Finally she and her swollen leg reached the main deck and she headed into the galley. Or rather, the separate dining room just off of the galley, where the others were already seated.

  “About time.” Harry waved and stood. He pulled out a chair, which Kat gratefully accepted. Jace sat to her right and Harry on her left, with Raphael and Gia seated opposite them.

  “Looks like you got your appetite back,” Harry grinned. “Less for me.”

  “There’s plenty for everyone,” Gia said. “Glad you’re feeling better, Kat.”

  Kat smiled back. Gia appeared to have forgiven her, at least for now. She reached behind her and pushed the fat wallet back in her pants pocket. Her back pocket was too shallow to hide the wallet’s bulge while sitting. She could barely wait to get back to her stateroom to investigate its contents.

  “I’m dying to hear about your adventure,” Gia said. “Find any gold in the cave?”

  “No, but I found an interesting passageway.” She mentioned Pete’s claims of aboriginal artifacts. “According to legend, there’s a tunnel from De Courcy Island to Valdes Island. It goes a few hundred feet underground. Under the sea, as a matter of fact. I think I was in it.”

  “Cool!” Harry almost knocked his glass over in his excitement. “Did you come out the other side?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t go far enough into the passage. It was dark and I hadn’t brought a flashlight. Or, as it turns out, the right shoes.”

  “Maybe the gold is there,” Jace said. “Let’s go back tomorrow and explore.”

  Gia turned to Raphael, who was uncharacteristically silent. “Is Kat the only one that saw anything?”

  “I guess Jace and I missed it.” He stood and walked into the galley. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of salad dressing. He brought it to the table. “Our bad luck.”

  Gia frowned. She turned to Kat. “Tell us about the legend.”

  She repeated what Pete had told her. “The C
oast Salish and other tribes used the tunnel as a rite of passage for young men. They carried their wooden staffs along the three-mile tunnel under the ocean and deposited them at the other end of the tunnel as proof of their journey.”

  “You must have been in the very same tunnel!” Gia exclaimed. “Did you see any artifacts?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kat wasn’t keen on describing the stone altar—if that’s what it was. If it was a sacred place she didn’t want to disturb the solitude by bringing others there. She hadn’t seen any evidence of its use; it was more just a feeling she’d had as she stood in front of it.

  “I didn’t see any wooden staffs or masks. But I did see a waterfall.” She described it and the pool. "It was quite beautiful. It was so dark though, so I couldn’t really see much. I saw some graffiti, too, so I can’t be the only one that knows about the cave.”

  “How far did you go into the tunnel?” Raphael asked.

  “Probably about a mile or so,” Kat said. “I’d like to go back. This time with a flashlight. I think I was halfway to Valdes Island, but it’s impossible to know. I never made it to the other side.”

  Raphael scoffed. “That’s just an old legend, like Brother XII and the gold. It’s probably just a tunnel that goes nowhere. There are plenty of them around.”

  Kat’s anger rose, but then she realized Raphael had been caught in a lie. “I didn’t know you’d been to the island before.”

  “Huh?”

  “You know the tunnels and caves.”

  “Just from what Pete told me.” He laughed nervously. “Probably just a bunch of made-up stories.”

  “I’d still like to see the cave,” Jace said. “I don’t know how we missed it. Maybe we can go early tomorrow and explore.”

  Harry held up his arm. “Count me in this time. You should skip it, Kat. Rest your leg instead.”