Deceived by Patricia H. Rushford Page B

gnawing ache in her stomach. Strong winds caused by the ship’s speed whipped through her cotton shorts and blouse, impeding her progress as she neared the bow. She passed under the last light and pressed on into the darkness, stopping only when she reached the area directly behind the driving range.
    Roberts had chosen the windiest, darkest, and most deserted part of the ship. Why?
    Perfect place for spies,
she reasoned.
And the perfect place for a murder.
If you wanted to waste someone, all you had to do was toss them over the side of the ship. No one would ever know. Jennie groaned. Where had that macabre thought come from?
You can still leave, McGrady
, her rational self suggested.
Maybe you should
. “I can’t,” she whispered, setting any objection aside.
    Hearing footsteps, she tightened her grip on the railing, took a deep breath, and waited.

13
    â€œI wasn’t sure you’d come.” Roberts stood only inches from her and rested his arms on the railing. Jennie turned to look at him, barely able to make out his features. He smelled nice and had changed from his tropical touristy look to dinner clothes—a suit—maybe a tux. In the darkness she couldn’t be sure. She wondered if he still had his gun. “You shouldn’t have, you know. Not alone.”
    Jennie couldn’t decide if he was teasing or patronizing her.
    â€œYou told me to come alone.”
    â€œAnd you always do what strangers tell you?”
    â€œOnly when they’re government agents with a message from my dad.”
    Roberts gazed into the darkness for what seemed like forever before he spoke again. “I caught the show you did on television,” he said, his voice barely audible in the wind. “Very impressive. You’ve turned into quite a young lady. Your father would be proud.”
    â€œYou knew my father?”
    â€œJason McGrady is an old friend.”
    Present tense
. The butterflies in Jennie’s stomach soared.
Don’t get your hopes up
, she told herself. But Jennie had to ask. She had to know. “You said
is
an old friend. Are you saying that my father is still alive?”
    He didn’t answer. Jennie forgot to breathe and steeled herself against what she suspected would be a negative response.
    Roberts ran a hand down his face. “That’s a difficult question to answer.”
    â€œWhy? He’s either dead or alive. I need to know. For once and for all, I need to know.” Her voice cracked. She gripped the railing even tighter.
You are not going to cry, McGrady. You’re not.
“Mr. Roberts, these last few years have been like a roller-coaster ride for me. Maybe it’s just been wishful thinking, but part of me has never been able to accept Dad’s death. His disappearance was like a chapter in a book without an ending. I can’t close it until I have the last chapter. After I did the television interview, J.B. and Gram told me Dad had died. The government even had a witness. It wasn’t what I wanted, but at least it was an ending.”
    â€œJennie…”
    â€œNo, let me finish.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I would have let it end there, but someone locked me in the sauna last night and then ransacked my room. The only thing missing was Dad’s picture. I couldn’t help but wonder why someone would want it. Part of me wants to believe Dad’s still alive, but if that’s true, then Gram and J.B. and the government have all lied to me. And if my father is alive, that means he has deceived me too.” Jennie bit her lip, unable to talk around the lump forming in her throat. Tears slid down her cheeks and dripped onto her evening gown.
    Roberts handed her a handkerchief. “Either way you lose.”
    Jennie nodded and blew her nose. “Can you tell me the truth?”
    â€œThat’s why I’m here, Jennie.” Roberts moved from the railing and suggested they find a