Cage Of Shadows

Nevertheless, she stifled it. After all, this man was a virtual stranger to her, whatever his relationship with her father had been, and to confide in him now would be to give in to a purely emotional reflex.

‘I’d better go,’ she said, without answering him, shading her eyes against the glare of sun on sand. ‘Thank you for the drink. It was delicious.’

Her companion inclined his head. ‘It was my pleasure,’ he responded drily, but she suspected he was only playing her game.

‘Goodbye, then,’ she said, not making the mistake of offering him her hand again, and he nodded.

‘Goodbye, Joanna,’ he replied, and by the time she had the temerity to look back, he had disappeared from sight.

Joanna awoke the next morning with a blinding headache. Her head had felt a bit muzzy when she went to bed, and she guessed it was her walk in the sun that was responsible for the present pounding in her temples. Feeling more than a little sorry for herself, she called room service and ordered toast and coffee, and while she was waiting for it to be delivered, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

It didn’t help when her telephone started ringing while she was standing under the abrasive spray. She hadn’t bothered to put on a shower-cap and her long hair was soaking, but, half afraid that it might be Matthew Wilder, she wrapped a towel about herself and went to answer it.

Dripping water all over the bedside rug, she heard the operator ask her to hold on as she had a long-distance call for her. Long-distance! Joanna grimaced. It had to be Evan Price; no one else had any idea where she was.

‘Joanna?’ It was Evan, and she expelled her breath wearily as she heard his familiar tones.

‘Hello, Evan,’ she answered flatly. ‘Look, is this something urgent, because you’ve got me out of the shower.’

‘You don’t sound like a girl who’s enjoying an unexpected winter vacation,’ retorted Evan shortly, his voice echoing hollowly in her ear. ‘I’m just ringing to find out what’s going on. I haven’t heard a squeak from you since you left England!’

‘You may remember, I spent three days in Miami,’ said Joanna defensively, and he snorted.

‘I know that. Didn’t I have to ring the hotel in Miami to find out where you were?’ exclaimed Evan impatiently. ‘You were supposed to keep me informed of your whereabouts, Joanna, not clear off without leaving me a forwarding address!’

‘All right. I’m sorry.’ Joanna sank down on to the side of the bed. ‘But I only arrived here yesterday afternoon. I was going to ring you later today.’

‘Hmm.’ Evan sounded sceptical. ‘Well? Have you anything to report?’

‘After twenty-four hours?’ Joanna protested, curiously loath to relate the events of the previous afternoon. ‘Well, I do know where his house is.’

‘You knew that before you left England,’ said Evan dourly. ‘Palmetto Drive, wasn’t it? So what’s new? Did you make a preliminary reconnaissance?’

Joanna gasped. ‘You make it sound as if I’m spying on him!’

‘Okay, okay.’ Evan sounded a little less aggressive now. ‘So you know where he lives. When are you going to see him?’

‘When am I—–? Evan, the house is practically impenetrable. It’s surrounded by a high fence, and the gates are padlocked!’

‘Yes. Yes, well, that’s something you’ve got to work out for yourself. That’s what I’m paying you for, Joanna.’

‘So it is.’ Joanna couldn’t keep the bitter note out of her voice. ‘I just hope I can earn the money.’

‘Joanna …’ He sounded a little cajoling now, as if he realised he had gone too far. ‘I’ve got every confidence in you. If anyone can do it, you can.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Joanna, feeling an unwarranted stinging of tears behind her eyes. ‘I—I’ll ring you when I have any news. Goodbye.’

She rang off before he could say any more, guessing, correctly as it turned out, that he would not waste any more money ringing her again. So far as Evan was concerned she was here, she was following orders, and he wasn’t really interested in anything but results.

Abandoning the shower, she dried herself thoroughly and was dressed in a dark red bikini and a matching wrap-around skirt when the man from room-service brought her breakfast. Thanking him, she carried the tray out on to the verandah, shady at present before the sun got round to this side of the hotel, and set it down on the spare lounger. Then, after pouring herself a cup of coffee, she subsided on to the other, swallowing a couple of aspirin she had taken from her bag.

The view was magnificent, but she was in no real mood to appreciate it. She felt guilty on two counts: one, because she had let Matthew Wilder believe she was as surprised to see him as he had been to see her, and two, because she had withheld the information from Evan. Her feelings didn’t improve her headache, and she closed her eyes wearily, longing for inspiration.

After she had swallowed a little of the toast, the pounding in her head had eased a little, and realising the maid would be waiting to come and clean the room, Joanna collected her bag and a paperback novel and went downstairs. She found a shaded corner of the sun-deck, and ignoring the sensation that she was the only solitary holidaymaker there, she tried to forget her problems for the morning at least. There was plenty to see if she chose not to read. The pool was the magnet for all the children staying in the hotel, and their parents stretched out in the sunshine, content to oil their bodies and leave their offspring to their own devices.

By the time the sun got round to Joanna’s particular corner, she was ready for a swim herself, but leaving the pool to the young ones, she crossed the beach and took her first plunge into the sparkling waters of the Gulf. For almost half an hour she determinedly ignored the reason that had brought her to Mango Key, and revelled in the simple delight of feeling sun-warmed water cooling her hot skin.

It was lunchtime when she came back to her chair to towel herself dry. Already several people had deserted the sun-deck in search of food, and it was quieter now that many of the children had left with their parents. Aware that her bikini-clad figure was attracting the attention of indolent male eyes, Joanna collected her bag, book and spectacles, and sliding the glasses on to her nose, she made for the hotel. It wasn’t always easy to deter a dogged suitor, and the last thing she needed right now were complications of that kind.

She ate lunch in the coffee shop, as on the previous afternoon, and then returned to her room to try and plan some strategy. The trouble was, there seemed no way she could arrange to meet Matthew Wilder accidentally, and although their encounter on the beach had seemed a heaven-sent opportunity, in retrospect she had to admit she had not gained any advantage. She should have realised that after living the life of a recluse for almost three years he was unlikely to take kindly to any intrusion into his privacy and, short of appealing to the respect he had had for her father, she could see no way of developing their association.

If only he had invited her into his house! Then she could have presumed on that relationship to call again, and surely during their conversations she could have found out what Evan wanted to know. His main objective seemed to be to discover what Matthew Wilder had been doing for the past three years, and why he had abandoned his research work at the London institute. He had shown no particular interest in the man’s private life, for which Joanna was grateful. Her conscience was troubling her because she had agreed to pry into Matthew Wilder’s professional activities; how much worse she would have felt if Evan had asked her to conduct some kind of personal investigation.