“Of course.”
“But...why?” She held out her hands in question.
Tension swirled around them, and Gib agonized over her sudden wariness. Was she a VC sympathizer? He wished he knew for sure, although his heart was convinced she wasn’t. “The mine detonated at the intersection of your driveway and Highway 14,” he explained patiently. “That’s official South Vietnamese property. And a marine convoy was passing your home at the time the explosion occurred. My CO assigned me to investigate what happened, Miss Villard. We have to determine who did it and, if possible, why. I need to ask you some questions.”
Shaken, Dany whispered, “But your presence here threatens our neutrality.”
Grimly, Gib walked to the sofa and gestured for her to sit. “There’s nothing neutral about war,” he said gruffly. “Now, if you’ll take a seat, I’ll try and make this as painless as possible on you.” And on me. Sweet God, but his sense of protection was overwhelming him. Dany looked absolutely distraught by his presence. An investigation would do nothing but dredge up all her grief over her mother’s passing. He felt like hell about it.
Touching her brow, Dany drew in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry...I’m forgetting my manners. Please, sit down. Ma Ling has made us tea.”
The sofa was as delicate looking as everything else in the home. Gib, always aware of his size, sat down carefully. He noticed that Dany’s hand trembled perceptibly as she filled one cup with tea and handed it to him. Again, he was struck by the shadows under her eyes and their slight puffiness. No doubt she’d been crying more than sleeping the last couple of days.
“Thanks,” he murmured, holding the cup and saucer between his hands. “How are you getting on?”
Dany shrugged and poured herself tea, not really wanting to drink it. “I survive moment to moment,” she admitted huskily as she sat back, her cup and saucer also in her hands, untouched.
Gib nodded. Her fragility was transparent in her every move, in her soft words, edged with pain. He was grateful that she didn’t try to evade him with social small talk. Dany wasn’t the actress in the family. She was too genuine to hide behind some carefully constructed facade as Amy Lou appeared to have done all her life.
He cleared his throat. “I was an eyewitness to your mother’s death, and there are some questions I need answered.” Placing the cup and saucer on the coffee table, Gib opened his folder. The official IO report stared back at him.
Dany moved uncomfortably. “I don’t understand why the American military has to be involved. The local authorities are investigating. Shouldn’t that be enough? Can’t you talk to Constable Jordan in Da Nang? He’s responsible for law enforcement in this region and has already taken my statement.” Dany feared Binh Duc’s reaction to Americans snooping around. He might already know that Gib was here, blatant in his tan, short-sleeved marine uniform.
“I’ll talk to him, too,” Gib said, writing down the name. “I have to try to determine whether the land mine was buried by VC to destroy marine convoys that travel up and down the highway, or if someone had a vendetta against your mother.”
Dany’s eyebrows dipped. “I’m sure it was a land mine put there to try to kill the American marines.” She set the cup and saucer down a little too loudly on the coffee table and got up, unable to sit still a moment longer. Her gut screamed at her that Binh Duc had been responsible for her mother’s death because of Amy Lou’s flirtation with the American general. Whether Dany would ever be able to prove it was another thing. More importantly, Dany knew she didn’t dare divulge Duc’s name to either the Vietnamese authorities or the American military. To do so would invite reprisals from Duc’s powerful force—a group that melted into the population by day and gathered after dark to wreak havoc. She didn’t want the plantation destroyed, or any more lives taken.
Gib clung to his patience. Dany was suddenly nervous. Was she afraid he’d uncover VC connections? “Has anyone threatened your mother lately?” he asked quietly.
Dany looked over her shoulder. “Of course not!”
Gib motioned to the walls of pictures. “She looks to be a famous celebrity. A Hollywood actress?”
With a grimace, Dany folded her arms against her body as she stood in the center of the room. Her voice was low and off-key. “Didn’t you know pictures lie? That’s what Hollywood really is: carefully orchestrated lies designed to make the public think some beautiful fairy-tale land exists out there, and all the people who belong to it are somehow magical and better off than the rest of us.” She halted abruptly. This marine didn’t care about her. All he wanted was information that would ultimately destroy Villard neutrality.
Her pain was very real. Gib frowned. “Tell me about your mother. Was she a famous actress in Hollywood’s heyday?”
Dany’s mouth quirked. “Let’s stick to business, shall we, Major? No one had threatened my mother.”
He wasn’t going to be deterred. “I need some background information. Tell me about the Villard plantation.”
Feeling trapped, Dany stood very stiffly. As much as she wanted to dislike Gib Ramsey, the opposite was occurring. His eyes, although hard, held something else in their depths. Every time she connected with and held his probing gaze, she felt an incredible surge of warmth and protection surrounding her. It was ridiculous! Dany shrugged it off, attributing it to her grief-stricken state. Her heart pounding, she licked her lower lip. “We’re a rubber plantation, Major. A thousand acres of rubber trees. That’s what we do for a living—produce rubber and export it. We’ve been here since 1930.”
“How did your family get through the Vietminh years?” Gib asked.
Dany frowned. “Just as we’re doing right now—by remaining neutral. My father refused to take sides in the Vietminh situation when Vietnam was a French colony.”
“Did that create enemies?”
Exasperated, Dany shrugged. “I don’t know!” She wheeled around and started to pace the long, rectangular room. “I wasn’t even born then. And my parents never spoke about it to me.”
Gib dutifully recorded the information for his report. It hurt him to see her like this, especially knowing he was the reason she was becoming unraveled. He tried to take the gruffness out of his tone. “Who handles the operation of the plantation?”
“I do,” Dany said flatly. She turned and walked back to him. “I’ve run this place since my father died.”
“Didn’t your mother help?” Gib found it phenomenal that Dany could handle the reins of such a large operation. His ranch back in Texas was as big, and he knew the problems involved in managing such a concern.
“My mother—” Dany stopped, then sighed. “My mother lived to be a part of the social scene, Major. I stayed here and ran the plantation.” Her voice dropped and grew hoarse. “The land is what I love. This land and its people. Out back of this house is a Vietnamese village. Three generations of families have helped us till this soil and keep the plantation whole and alive.”
Moved by her admission, Gib tore his gaze from her. As a rancher, he understood love of the land only too well. There was something honorable about Dany that struck him hard. He forced himself back to the report.
“What is your affiliation with the Vietcong?” He didn’t look up, fearing the answer.
Dany made an exasperated sound. “Affiliation? Major, I’m neutral! I don’t deal with them at all! I have the local leader’s word that he will not cross or use my plantation in any warlike activity or purpose.”
“Would that be Binh Duc?”
Inwardly, Dany winced. “Yes.”
Gib looked up measuring the expression in her eyes and the tone of her voice. “You know him?”
“Of