Montego Bay

by Fred Galvin

  He turned to Vernon. “Come on, let’s get going. Put the cuffs on her.” Then the irony hit what he had that passed for a brain. “Ain’t that a turn-around for you, eh lady cop? You being cuffed by the likes of us. Nice twist. Love it.”

  Vernon snapped a pair of handcuffs on her wrists and she winced. “Come on, let’s go. We’ve got to get her out of here.”

  Ronnie squirmed. “Malcolm, what is this? Are you kidnapping me? Do you have any idea how serious kidnapping is?”

  “Okay, you need to be quiet. And my name is Vernon, not Malcolm. Malcolm is that pussy who served you and your New York friend bammy and jerk chicken. Malcolm doesn’t exist any more. Now stay quiet until I tell you that you can speak or I’ll have to gag you.”

  He reached around her and pulled her phone from her jeans back left pocket.

  Why is it that almost every woman I’ve ever encountered puts her phone in the left rear pocket of her jeans? Why not the right rear pocket? I mean, most people are right-handed, right? I mean, correct? So wouldn’t it be easier to have the phone in the right rear jeans pocket? Wait, maybe by carrying it in the left rear pocket, she can pull it out with her left hand and be ready to start using the phone with her right. Why do I think of such things? Geez, first it’s the urinal protocol and now it’s which pocket women put their phones in. What a terrible waste of brain power.

  End of meaningless short digression.

  Vernon took a chair and turned it to face the center of Ronnie’s small living area. “Now, I need you to sit still. I’m going to take a video of you and you’re going to tell your brother that you’re fine, you’re unhurt, and that all he needs to do is cooperate. Then I’ll say a few words and then we’ll turn your phone off so it can’t be traced and leave it here. Got it? Don’t try anything stupid. Understand?”

  Even though she was stressed, Ronnie was in full cop mode. She knew from her training and years of experience that when a criminal believed he was in total control of a situation, especially involving a hostage, he most likely would maintain some degree of rationality. That degree, of course, would be dependent upon several factors; his overall mental state, his perception of any impending risk, desperation, and the progress of his criminal plan. If any of those started to degenerate, the well-being of the hostage could degenerate as well, and very quickly.

  She knew she had to play into the comfort level of these two if she was going to survive this ordeal. She also knew that she had to immediately begin to absorb and remember every detail of what she was experiencing, every word they said, their interactions with each other, which one was in charge, and key in on any possible vulnerabilities she could exploit if the opportunity presented itself.

  At this point she knew it would do no good to threaten them or to point out the futility of their actions. Telling them, You’ll never get away with this. My brother and my former detective-colleague will hunt you down. Stop now and we can work something out. Such threats, especially in the infancy of their criminal endeavor, would only embolden them which invariably would make things more precarious for her as they sought to prove her wrong.

  She needed to know what they had in mind. So far it seemed Gillian was in charge overall but Vernon was intent on exerting control over her. Obviously they were going to hold her as leverage for something, most likely to force Roje’s hand in some way.

  “Yes, I understand. What exactly do you want me to say?”

  Vernon seemed satisfied that she would cooperate. After all, if she didn’t and said something he didn’t like he could just erase the video and persuade her to follow the suggested script. He had liked Ronika. She was always pleasant when she visited the Day-O and left him decent tips. He struggled a bit to push such feelings down. She was now, and always will be, an adversary. She was a tool they needed to force Roje’s cooperation.

  “Just what I said, that you’re okay, you’re not hurt, you’re being treated well, and that Roje needs to cooperate with Gillian if he wants you to remain that way. No secret looks or anything fishy, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.”

  Vernon set up the phone on a table to face her, started the recording, and nodded to Ronnie. She stared at the red light and forced herself to remain calm even though she could feel her heart pounding.

  “Roje, I’m fine. I’m unhurt and being treated well. I suggest you cooperate with Gillian Whyte and this will all be over soon. I love you. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

  Vernon nodded, stepped in next to Ronnie, and went down on one knee to be in the video frame. “Roje, as you can see, your sister is fine and will remain fine while you and Gillian are on your little journey as long as you cooperate. He and I will be in constant contact so I’ll know if you’re cooperating or not. I like your sister and will take care of her as long as you do cooperate.”

  He rose, stopped the recording, and played it back for him and Gillian to review.

  Gillian nodded. “Yeah, that’s good for starters. I’ll call you when it’s time to send it to his phone.” He then hugged his brother and held him by the shoulders at arms’ length. “This will work. We’ll be set for a long time. This is the one we’ve been waiting for.” Vernon nodded and they embraced once more. “Let’s go.”

  They herded Ronnie to their old car and they drove away, Gillian driving, Vernon with Ronnie in the back seat. She did her best to choke down her fear and to try to stay in the moment. She knew at some point she would have to recount every minute, every detail of her ordeal, provided she survived. She had already committed the make, model, and plate number of the car to memory. That was just before Vernon blindfolded her, with an apology.

  Vernon had protested mildly to his brother. “Is it really necessary to blindfold her? Do you really think she won’t know where she is?”

  “Really? How many kidnappings have you done that you’re so smart? Keep her blindfolded the entire time!”

  Vernon had backed down immediately and just shrugged. “Okay.”

  Ronnie realized that by saying that, Vernon had essentially indicated that she’s being taken to a place with which she was familiar. These two were petty criminals, not the murdering types. But she knew things could go very wrong very quickly. She thought back to Frankie Finacci and shuddered. She also flashed to her mother and remembered that she and Dan were enjoying their special night together. Her thoughts also went to Roje and Gabi, to Dan, and to Ife wondering if she would ever see them again.

  Chapter 19: “Then yesterday and last night happened.”

  All my years as a detective had resulted in my body’s natural wake-up alarm call activating by six every morning. Sometimes it would go off earlier, especially as I aged and my bladder called more and more often, but very seldom later.

  At six the following morning I was lying on my back with Delyse’s hair deliciously falling across my chest. My mind was flooded with the emotions of the night. As I lay there feeling her breathe rhythmically, five words kept going through my head over and over.

  Third, we are very passionate.

  Yes, Ronnie’s third rule of Jamaican women. I smiled and wondered if she had any idea to what fabulous extent her mother epitomized the third rule. To say I was spent would have been quite the understatement. I could suggest one more rule about Jamaican women’s flexibility but I was sure that was something Ronnie would not want to hear.

  I had also come to the realization that I most likely would be making plans to transition my personal life from the canyons of New York to the tropics of Jamaica. I had reconciled any lingering guilt with the firm belief that Jen would be pleased with my contentment and happiness.

  Delyse stirred, turned to me, and smiled devilishly. “Good morning. Who are you again?”

  “I’m Justin Case, your son’s latest charter client. I must say the amenities that are included in a Deveaux Charter Services package are delightfully thorough. I will be sure to give a five-star rating.”

  “We aim to ple
ase.”

  “And to please, and please, and please and…”

  She threw a pillow at me and I actually thought I could discern her flush in a shy way. I rose and opened the curtains to brilliant sunshine. “Shall I brew some of this strong Jamaican blend?”

  “What’s your hurry?”

  “I have to meet your son and daughter at the Sea Nymph in two hours. We’re trolling for NYU sweatpants today.”

  Her smile was both impish and at the same time lit up the room. “Actually, you have the morning off. You aren’t due there until noon. I advised them last night you would need some recovery time this morning.”

  I smiled and returned to the bed. “You vamp.”

  ~~~

  Delyse and I lollygagged the morning away. Anyway, I guess one could call it lollygagging if one used one’s imagination. Let’s just say, that the morning sun was more than a few degrees above the horizon by the time I got around to brewing a small pot of the strong Jamaican blend coffee that came with our bungalow.

  The day had dawned perfectly and the sky was a deep blue. Sea birds were skimming the water. The small waves breaking on the beach washed over our feet as we walked along hand-in-hand toward the Seagrape Terrace for a late breakfast.

  “Well, Mr. Case, how do you like Jamaica? Are you enjoying your vacation?”

  “I have enjoyed it from the moment I stepped off the plane but I must say the last twelve to eighteen hours have been much more than I expected. I had no idea that Deveaux Charter Services was such a full-service company.”

  She took my arm and smiled a smile that rivaled the morning sun reflecting off the sea. “I am very happy to hear that.” We waded a few more steps in the warm water. Then she squeezed my arm. Rather quietly, as if floating an idea she hoped would be well-received, she said, “Dan, we offer extended-stay packages to special clients.”

  “I like the sound of that. Tell me more, that is if I qualify for the ‘special client’ status.”

  “Oh yes, you certainly do.”

  We sat outside and ordered our breakfasts, each of us hungry to replenish the spent energies of the previous night. As we waited for our orders to arrive, I took her hands in mine.

  “Delyse, I came down here for two reasons. I wanted to take a break from New York and investigative work and more importantly to see Ronnie and make sure she was doing okay. Then I met you. I believe my immediate reaction to you was accurately described by your daughter as being struck by the Jamaican Thunderbolt.”

  She laughed out loud. “The Jamaican Thunderbolt? Ronika said that?”

  “Yes indeed. Remember in the movie The Godfather when Michael Corleone first saw Apolonia while he was hiding in Sicily? They said he was struck by the Sicilian Thunderbolt. I guess she saw the same reaction in me when I first saw you. Now I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about putting New York in my rearview mirror and coming down here to be with you. I tried to check myself, thinking it was too quick and too soon for such ideas. Then yesterday and last night happened. And this morning you confirmed that you seem to have the same thoughts when you mentioned the ‘extended-stay packages’ offered by Deveaux Charter Services.”

  “I am very happy to hear that, Dan. I want you to know how I feel. I think, given where we both are in life, that we must be totally open about our feelings. I frankly didn’t know quite what to expect when Ronika told me you were coming down here. She always had spoken of you in the most respectful terms. But I have to admit to a bit of lightning striking me as well.”

  I forked up a mouthful of scrambled eggs and sipped some coffee. “Tell me, how is it you haven’t been taken? How have the local men not been all over you?”

  She assumed the demeanor of a shy schoolgirl. “I really can’t say. I have had some offers but no one has really clicked for me. That is, until this former detective from the big city showed up at my lounge and got my attention. I have to admit that I haven’t stopped thinking of you since that first day.”

  We finished our breakfasts and walked back to the bungalow to pack up and check out. Along the way we agreed to begin to formulate short and long term plans. I had a lot to do as did she. We were both very excited with what the future could hold for us and both mature enough to just keep taking steps forward and seeing where they would lead. So far we both felt they were leading us to a good place.

  At 11:45 we climbed into the Jeep and headed back toward the marina and the Sea Nymph to resume my charter. I was sure that Ronnie and Roje would be armed with questions they would be unafraid to ask. Well, at least Ronnie would be unafraid. Delyse assured me that they would both be very happy for us, Roje perhaps a bit more begrudgingly. “But I’m sure he’ll embrace the concept of us together. He’s just a little stubborn and very protective.”

  ~~~

  As we pulled into the marina Delyse suddenly sat forward in the driver’s seat. “That’s odd. I don’t see the Sea Nymph. I’m sure Roje would have fully fueled her and been ready to go as soon as we arrived. I see no signs of him or Ronika.”

  She pulled her phone from her purse and made a call. “Roje, where are you? Dan and I are at the slip.” As she listened, the look on her face told me there was a problem, a serious problem.

  Chapter 20: “… this time you will cooperate.”

  After abducting Ronnie from her cottage, Gillian had driven the three of them to the Montego Bay Yacht Club where the Sea Nymph was docked. Ronnie couldn’t tell for sure but she suspected they were near or at the sea. She could smell the salt air. Now blindfolded, her sense of smell seemed more acute. She heard the two brothers get out and were talking outside the car but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Gillian took his brother by the shoulders. “We’re going to be fine. This is going to set us up for a long time. Now follow our plan and go. Stay with her constantly. Call me any if anything happens. I will be in touch with you.”

  Vernon hugged his brother. “I know. This will all be over soon and we will be able to go away and be happy and at peace. You’re sure you can handle Roje? He’ll be very angry.”

  “He will not be a problem. He understands we hold all the cards, namely his sister. He will be here shortly and we will be on our way. Now go before he gets here.”

  ~~~

  On the way Gillian had called the lady cop’s brother using her cell which he had taken from her.

  Roje and Gabi were at his place when his cell rang. He picked it up noting the ID read RONIKA. He immediately was concerned. It was very unusual for his sister to call him this late, especially when she knew he was with Gabi.

  “Ronika? What is it? Are you alright?”

  A male voice answered. “Oh, she’s just fine, Roje. This is Gillian Whyte and this time you’re going to listen to me and do as I say, or she will not be alright. Understand?”

  Gabi could see that Roje was clearly agitated. He stood up quickly and started pacing. Eyes wide, she mouthed What is it?

  Roje held up his index finger to her in a hold on gesture. “What? What are you talking about? I told you I want nothing to do with your schemes. Where is my sister?”

  “As I said, your sister is fine and this time you will cooperate.”

  Roje’s voice turned cold. Gabi could see that he was seething. Veins in his temple and neck were pulsating and his hand without the phone was in a tight fist. Calmly but with an icy tone, “I’m not doing anything until you tell me where Ronika is and prove to me that she’s unharmed.”

  Gillian laughed. “You arrogant prick. Do you really think I’m going to tell you where she is just because you insist? Like I said, we have her and she’s fine. Now I’m going to send you a video that was recorded just a short time ago. Pay attention and call me back as soon as you are done looking at it.”

  Before he could reply, Roje heard the call disconnect. Then his phone chirped indicating he had an incoming message. Gabi came to his side. “Roje, what is it? Is Ronika okay? What’s happening?”

  �
��That was Gillian Whyte. He claims to have her. Hold on…” He accessed the video and they both watched.

  An image of Ronnie was visible. He recognized the interior of her cottage. She looked strained but unharmed. “Roje, I’m fine. I’m unhurt and being treated well. I suggest you cooperate with Gillian Whyte and this will all be over soon. I love you. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

  Then Vernon Whyte stepped into the frame next to her. “Roje, as you can see, your sister is fine and will remain fine while you and Gillian are on your little journey as long as you follow his instructions. He and I will be in constant contact so I’ll know if you’re cooperating or not. I like your sister and will take care of her as long as you do cooperate.”

  The video ended. Breathing heavily, Roje put down his phone. Reaching for her phone Gabi said, “Holy shit. I’m calling this in.”

  Roje held her wrist firmly. “No!” Then, more calmly, “No, please. Gillian told me to call him back. I want to hear what he has to say. Let’s not get your police colleagues involved yet. We cannot risk anything happening to Ronika. We don’t know where they have her. We have to understand exactly what he wants, although I have a pretty good idea.”

  Reluctantly, Gabi put her phone down. “Okay, if you say so.”

  Roje called Gillian back. Gillian answered immediately. “You watched the recording?”

  “Yes. Now tell me what you want.” While strongly tempted, he thought it wise to leave off you fucking prick at the end of that sentence.

  “Is your boat fully fueled?”

  “Yes.”

  “Meet me there in fifteen minutes alone. And by alone I mean without that cop-girlfriend of yours and without anyone else. No phone calls to the local cops or one call from me and your sister will stop being okay, if you know what I mean. We’re going on a boat ride, just the two of us. My brother will be waiting for a call from me telling him we’re on our way. If he doesn’t get it, well, do I need to say more?”