Deceived by Patricia H. Rushford

of them coming after her with a speargun.
    A shuttle approached the shore, signaling its arrival with a long piercing horn.
    â€œHey, guys.” Matt nodded toward the boat. “I think they’re trying to tell us something.”
    Lisa glanced at her watch. “It’s three-thirty. That’s the last boat back to the ship. We’d better hurry.”
    Jennie yanked off her fins and ran with the others back to their beach spot to retrieve their gear, dismissing the possibility that the spear had been meant for her. Ridiculous. Or was it? Again, the balding man in dark glasses and colorful shirt invaded her thoughts
. No way. You’re way off base. He works for the government—at least he said he did. Come to think of it, the only enemies you’ve made lately have been with the federal government. You didn’t exactly endear yourself to them by doing that television show.
    Could the government want her out of the way? Don’t be ridiculous.
The government doesn’t go around killing kids—even if we do stupid things to jeopardize their investigations. Do they?
    Jennie dismissed the absurd direction her imagination had taken and thought instead about what Roberts had said.
A message from Dad.
He’d asked to meet her at midnight. If he had wanted her dead, he could have killed her that morning near the lighthouse.
    She pushed her head through the neckhole of an oversized fuchsia T-shirt and nudged Lisa. “Where are Gram and J.B.?”
    â€œThey took the boat before this one.” Lisa stuffed her towel in her bag and donned a white cotton cover-up.
    For some odd reason the news hit Jennie like a punch in the stomach. Unwanted tears sprang into her eyes and she wiped them away, hoping no one would notice. Gram’s absence shouldn’t have bothered her so much, but it did. Gram should have been there for her—to reassure her that it was all a coincidence—to put a comforting arm around her shoulder, clean up her wound—and tell her that she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.
    Gram has her own life now
, Jennie reminded herself.
Anyway, you don’t need her help. You’re practically an adult. You can take care of yourself.
    The boat deposited them on the
Caribbean Dreamer
, and after getting her wound sutured and bandaged by the ship’s doctor, Jennie opted for a nap. Lisa woke her up at six, and they spent the next two hours showering, fixing their hair, putting on makeup, and getting into their dresses for the first formal dinner on board. Lisa’s off­the-shoulder green satin gown came to a “V” in the front. At the “V” she wore a rhinestone and simulated-emerald pin. The freckles on her face and thick head of copper curls reminded Jennie of the pictures she’d seen of a model for shampoo. Only Lisa was prettier.
    Actually, Jennie realized she didn’t look all that bad herself. She eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror just before heading out the door. Lisa had swept Jennie’s hair up on one side and secured it with a rhinestone and pearl barrette. The short-sleeved, simple-cut black sequined gown glittered as she moved, showing off her slender figure and long legs. Her blue eyes looked larger and darker than usual. For once she decided not to listen to the voice inside that was doing its best to make her feel unattractive, too tall, and awkward.
    â€œDominic is going to flip when he sees you.”
    Jennie smiled and reached for her matching black evening bag. “Let’s go knock ’em dead.”
    They met the boys in the lobby in front of the dining room and Jennie wasn’t sure who knocked who dead. The guys looked gorgeous in black tuxedos and white shirts with bow ties.
    â€œWow!” Matt’s eyes glistened with appreciation. “I feel like I should bow or something.”
    Dominic did—and then he kissed Jennie’s hand. A bubble of nervous laughter worked its way into