Page 9 of Beachcomber Danger

Since when had he gotten sentimental? It was a dangerous habit to pick up in his business.

Dane opened the door carefully, making sure no one was in the back hallway before going inside. He held Shana by the arm. Needlessly, but she didn’t pull away from him. They slipped into Cap’s office unnoticed and closed the door behind them.

Cap was on the phone. He stood when they appeared in his doorway, aiming a questioning look at them. Dane closed the door and kept his face inscrutable. He’d wait until he had his friend’s full attention. Shana pulled away from him and walked to stand front and center. She had a tendency to be impatient. Dane kept his smile to himself.

Cap got the message and hung up the phone after he mumbled an excuse to whoever he was speaking with. Dane looked at his watch. They had seventeen minutes. Including eight minutes to run back.

“We have nine minutes.” That was for Shana’s benefit in case she thought of exchanging pleasantries. He took a seat in one of the two uncomfortable chairs while Shana sat on the edge of the other.

Dane told Cap everything concisely and in a clipped voice, starting with the Secret Service following them on the beach up to running from the supermarket. He checked his watch. In seventy-six seconds.

“I got a heads-up call earlier from Peter,” Cap said. “I would have called you soon. Looks like it’s a good thing I didn’t, if what you suspect is true. That they have you under surveillance.”

“How much did Peter tell you?”

“Everything you told him. And about the terrorist cell threat soon to arrive.”

“What makes you think they’re not already here?”

He said nothing.

“I think it’ll be a man and woman,” Shana said. “A couple on vacation. Could be here now. Or not. They’ll be impossible to spot.”

“You’ll know what to look for once you’re bird-dogging the President.”

“What if they know we’ll be watching and they’re smart and hit early. Or only show up once, the time they’re going to hit.” Dane wasn’t asking. He knew that would be the way.

“Once you get the itinerary, you’ll need to figure the most vulnerable appearance.”

“What if they don’t care about getting out and they just set a bomb—Boston Marathon bomber style?” Shana asked.

Cap said, “We’ve got that covered. We’ll have more dogs sniffing around here than hamburgers to feed them.”

“God damn.” Shana stood, hands fisted. “Are we saying this is a losing proposition? If so, why are they allowing the President to come here?”

Dane pulled her back down to sit and tugged on a stray lock of her hair. He loved the long blond wavy tresses. He stopped himself from pushing his hand through her mane. He’d likely lose himself there.

“Don’t fret, darlin’. We got this. There’s a reason the President hasn’t canceled the trip in spite of the threat.”

“You thinking it’s bogus?” Cap asked.

“No. If Peter, the damn Governor who makes it his business to know these things, and who’s plugged into people in high places so he can know these things, thinks it’s a credible threat, then it is.”

“Then what?” Cap sat back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head as if waiting for Dane to tell him a story. Shana gave him her signature suspicious scowl.

“They’re setting a trap. In fact, there’s a possibility that the President visiting the island will actually be the President’s double.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Shana withheld a snort. Barely. “The President’s double? I never heard of such a thing.” She stood again and stalked around the office.

Cap rocked forward in his chair to sit straight.

Cap hadn’t spoken, but his face looked like the cover of a weighty book, hiding all kinds of complicated machinations. Dane waited for the dust to settle. He had no choice. His mind was quick, the meal on the table before others had the time to assemble the ingredients and cook up the recipe.

“This is serious,” Cap finally said. “What you’re suggesting is wildly speculative.”

“We don’t have time to go into it.” Dane looked at his watch. “Not now. But trust me. There’s no way in hell the President would put himself in the line of fire except to set a trap.”

“And there’s no way the Secret Service would let him play bait.” Cap took a deep breath. “But still—”