“As far as Liam is concerned, I did,” he said. “I made certain of it. And as for the guard Liam placed on your room, he’s also otherwise engaged. I don’t expect him to return for an hour, at least.”
Otherwise engaged? Mac peered over Perry’s shoulder. “Why did you come back?”
He shrugged. “Call it a hunch, Miss MacKenzie. A hunch that we might perhaps be useful to one another in some small capacity.”
Interesting. Sinclairs, it seemed, thought alike.
She held open the door. “Come in.”
He smiled, a faint quirk of his lips, and complied. After an awkward moment she realized he was waiting for an invitation to sit, and she gestured him toward the two chairs by the fireplace. He waited for her to seat herself first, then set his hat in his lap and hung the cane on the chair’s arm.
“Where shall we begin, Miss MacKenzie?” he asked. “We’ve had little more than an introduction, and that under less than pleasant circumstances.”
Mac did her best to match his composure. “Liam mentioned you… a few times in the jungle.”
“And not favorably,” he said. “How awkward it must have been for you to be drawn into the net of his suspicion.” He leaned forward, studying her face. “It’s clear you know each other rather well.”
Mac fortified herself with a deep breath. Here goes. “Yes. We met in the jungle, as he said. And we traveled together from the Petén to San Francisco.”
He raised a brow. “Were you his prisoner, Miss MacKenzie?”
“No. I didn’t even realize how little he trusted me until we arrived here.”
“Ah. I confess to being very interested in what happened in the jungle to convince Liam I tried to have him killed—and what part you played in it. Not to mention how you came to be in the jungle alone when Liam was there. It must be a fascinating tale.”
Fascinating, yes. But not one she was prepared to let him in on just yet.
“I’ll try to be brief,” she said, inventing quickly. “My name is Rose MacKenzie. I’m the daughter of Hector MacKenzie, an explorer and missionary in Central America. My father recently died, and I was left with little money in a small village in Guatemala. I was trying to make my way to the port when Liam found me.”
“An explorer’s daughter,” he repeated. “Liam does have a certain rough gallantry that would lead him to rescue a maiden in distress.”
Rough gallantry. That was one way of putting it. “Yes. But there was some rather bad timing involved. You see…”
And she proceeded to explain, in calm, efficient words that she hoped were convincing, how she’d been with Liam less than a day when the guerrillas had attacked, how he’d been wounded, and how he’d behaved when she found the watch at the site of the assault.
“My loss of that watch caused a good deal of trouble,” Perry said. “But there’s one thing I still do not understand. Your presence did prevent his death, and you brought him the watch. This hardly accounts for his suspicion.” He searched her eyes. “He did mention a photograph.”
So Perry hadn’t missed that. “Urn, I did have a photograph. Of you and Liam.”
His gaze sharpened. “Indeed.”
“Well, before my father died, we did a great deal of traveling. We’d heard, of course, of the famous exploring team of Sinclair and O’Shea, and, um, we ran across a native who had this photograph…”
Perry leaned back, tapping the brim of his hat. “A native. How very interesting. Go on, Miss MacKenzie.”
“I, um, asked Father to buy it. I had it with me when Liam found me, and he was sure it was the same one you had in San Francisco.”
“May I see this photograph?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. Mac went to the dressing table and pulled out her backpack, keeping her body between it and Great-great-grandpa. When she put the photo in Perry’s hand, he sat up very straight.
“I begin to understand,” he said, turning the battered photograph in his hands. “I remember when this was taken, and to my knowledge only one was made. It appears I was wrong.” He returned the photo to her with obvious reluctance. “So when he found you with this following our argument, and then the business with the guerrilla attack and the watch—ah, Liam.” He shook his head, swift speculation moving behind his eyes. “Even he has enough sense to realize now that his suspicions were unfounded.”