Free The RX Factor by John Shaw Page A

said flatly. She ran a hand through her long mane in a gesture that was neither contrived nor inhibited. "Let's just say I'm passionate about my work."
    "You can't work
and
play?"
    "Sure, but can you keep up?"
    Ryan chuckled. The woman knew how to dance.
    After a few more miles of empty road, they ended up at the Conch Shack, overlooking the ocean in the hamlet of Steventon. Jordan ordered her Captain Morgan and Diet Coke, and Ryan stuck with just a bottle of water, while they waited for the proprietor's sons to return from the bay with fresh conch.
    "I've been to Exuma before, but I never knew about this place."
    "The best places are the ones the tourists haven't found yet. They catch the conch as the orders are placed. Can't get any fresher than that."
    Jordan grinned. "I can't wait."
    They were soon enjoying a conch salad and a cup of conch chowder. "You were right, Ryan. Best I've ever had."
    As they continued eating, Ryan decided to explore Pritchard's paranoia with Jordan.
    "So tell me, do you have any idea if someone would want to do you harm?"
    "Well, this guy back in Chicago comes to mind."
    "What was his name?"
    "Loukas, Victor Loukas. His wife was terminal and received the placebo in one of the clinical trials we were administering. She died nine months later. When her husband found out that she had been given the placebo, he went crazy, threatened everybody involved and vowed revenge."
    "I wouldn't read too much into that. He was upset. Vowing revenge was probably just a rash reaction. And coming after you here in Exuma, well, that seems a bit unlikely."
    "You're probably right. I really never gave it any thought until you asked."
    Jordan took the final bite of her salad. "Although he's mega-rich, developed half of the South Side of Chicago, and owns and occupies a high rise in the Loop that would make Donald Trump proud. The scary part is that he has ties to the mob. At least, that's the rumor. If he really wanted to come after me, I don't think an ocean could stop him. If he did it back in Chicago, he would be a suspect. Here, not a chance. Besides, everyone would focus on my uncle's death and assume it had something to do with Wall Street. It would be the perfect smoke screen."
    Ryan's silence was his answer.
    She held his eyes. "You think I'm being melodramatic?"
    "I never said that."
    She couldn't hide her tightening lips. "Now that I think about it, unless they were after my uncle, it has to be Loukas. There's no one else in my life it
could
be."
    "No one?" he asked, the question dripping with innuendo.
    "No, no one. Sayulita—the clinic—that's my main focus now. That shouldn't make me any enemies. Or at least none that hate me enough to want to see me dead."
***
    Back in the jeep, Ryan had an idea to take their minds off of the investigation. "I hope you brought your bathing suit."
    "I'm wearing it under my sarong."
    "Good, because I know an incredible beach, private and pristine as the first day of creation."
    Jordan smiled, seeming to forget all her troubles for the moment. "How could I say no? Where is it?"
    "Not far. It's on Deadman's Cay."
    Jordan gave him an
Are-you-messing-with-me
look but said nothing.
    The drive along the winding road, with its breathtaking ocean panoramas, had a soothing effect on both of them and their mood rose with each passing mile.
    They had just hit a straightaway on the road to Rolleville when a dark blue, older-model sedan roared up behind them. The sedan was moving at twice the speed of Ryan's jeep and didn't slow down until it was a few inches from his rear bumper.
    "Oh shit," Ryan muttered under his breath. Noting two dark-skinned male passengers in the sedan, he felt a jolt of adrenaline shoot through his body.
Hey, Pritchard, I think I found your Haitians.
    Jordan noticed Ryan's attention to the rear-view mirror. She turned around to look at the trailing sedan, then back at Ryan. "What the hell's going on?"
    Ryan had no time to respond. The sedan's engine growled