by Dakan
I'M NOT SPYING ON YOU. BUT IF I WERE, ALL THAT SHOUTING WOULD MAKE IT VERY EASY
TO DO SO.
Fine we get it. So are we done?
ID LIKE A STATUS REPORT.
About the body?
Paul watched as the words disappeared almost as fast as Chloe finished typing them.
THIS IS NOT A SECURE MEANS OF COMMUNICATION.
Then stop using it, Chloe typed and then held down the laptop's power button until the screen went black. She turned to Paul and leaned toward him.
"How easy was it for him to do that?" she whispered into his ear.
"I don't know. Not easy. I don't even know how he figured out what my screen name is," he whispered back.
"This was the first time you've played since you met him, right?" asked Chloe, her breath hot in his ear. He nodded. "And you were on less than an hour." He nodded again.
Paul's heart thumped in his chest. He saw what she was getting at. Either Isaiah had hacked his laptop and Metropolis 2.0's chat system in under an hour, or he and his Crew had been digging into Paul and Chloe before they ever met. Neither option gave Paul any comfort at all. Nor did the fact that the two weren't mutually exclusive - he could be skilled enough to hack the game in under and hour and prepared enough to have been checking them out for days or weeks or months. No matter which scenario you chose, there was no denying that he and Chloe were way behind in the game.
Chloe stood up and took Paul's hand, pulling him to his feet. She led him quietly inside the house and shut the door behind them. They moved upstairs to Bee's room without saying a word and knocked on the door.
"Come in," they heard Bee shout.
Bee and the room hadn't changed in the last hour. She was still perched in front of her wall of monitors in the dark, looking through the camera array. Paul glanced at the monitor showing the map of Key West and saw Chapter 15
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that Sandee's dot was still at the party, but that Eddie's dot had left a trail of time stamps as he passed within range of RFID detectors. The last one showed him entering the Hyatt resort off Mallory Square about ten minutes ago.
Chloe shut the door behind them and then plucked a roll of tape from a hook on the wall. Bee shot them a look when she heard Chloe start to peel off long strips of tape to seal the cracks around the door.
"What's going on?" asked Bee, a note of panic in her voice. Bee's was the only room in the house well-shielded against surveillance. When they'd moved in they'd put up aluminum sheets and/or screens of fine copper mesh over every surface before hiding them beneath a layer of plaster. The tape Chloe was using had more metallic mesh woven into it. When she was done the room would be, theoretically, sealed off from all kinds of electronic signals and eavesdropping. Even their cell phones didn't work in the room.
"It's Isaiah," Paul explained. "He's spying on us."
"How do you know?" Bee asked.
"He just hacked into Paul's game while he was playing," Chloe said as she applied the last strip of metallic tape. "And he made it very clear that he could hear what Paul and I were talking about."
"You mean yelling about," Bee said.
"Whatever. The point is, he heard us. He's watching us. And from now on we can't be too careful."
"Why did he tell us?" Paul asked, although he was talking to himself as much as to the two women.
"Because he wanted us stop yelling about dead bodies," Chloe said.
"Which is good advice," Bee chimed in.
"Yeah, ok. But still..."
"But why tell us like that?" asked Paul. "It's very flashy. He could've just called my phone. I was actually expecting him to call and get his status report. So why hack into the game and contact me there."
"He was showing off," said Chloe. "Trying to spook us."
"And it worked," Paul admitted. "But actually I think this is a good thing."
"What?" Bee and Chloe said almost at once.
"How is it a good thing?" Chloe continued.
"Well, ok, not a good thing. But not the worst thing. He's tipping his hand, right? He's letting us know not only that he's watching us, but that he's deep into our lives. But he's gotta know that we're going to be super careful from now on, right? He's made sure of that."
"So this is his way of keeping us in line," said Chloe. "Of making sure we know he's watching over us so we won't screw up."
"Exactly," said Paul. "If he wanted to just spy on us, he would never have tipped his hand. But I think he's just trying to make sure we do a good job with the Raquel situation."
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"Plus," said Chloe, "If he's as good as he seems and he really has been watching us for longer than we've known he existed, then he might well already know everything about us that he needs to know. Maybe even everything that there is to know."
"That's a comforting thought," said Bee as she stood up from her seat and headed for the closet. Paul and Chloe watched as Bee pulled out several boxes of gear from the tiny closet which was stuffed with computer gear, blown monitors, and other tech detritus. Paul recognized the boxes as the containers she kept her bug sweeping gear in. "I'm going to sweep the whole house again," Bee said. "It'll take about five hours. No one should say anything until I'm done."
Paul and Chloe looked back at each other.
"I'll bet Isaiah's calling me right now," said Paul.
"I'll bet he is," she said.
"I should probably call him."
"Yeah."
"He'll want to meet," said Paul.
"You can handle it," she replied. "I'm going to help Bee secure the house and then follow up on Eddie."
Paul started to stay something else. Some kind of apology, maybe. But he couldn't find the words. He just nodded and gave her a quick, awkward kiss.
"Ok, well, I'll go see him."
"And, Paul," Chloe said. "Tell him if he really wants to help, he can come get that fucking body from our freezer."
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Chapter 16
TWO and a half hours later, Paul met Isaiah and, as it turned out, Winston at the Blue Parrot restaurant over in Bahama Village. The restaurant was one of Paul's favorites, and also one of the most popular breakfast joints on the island. Most of the dining area consisted of picnic tables spread out beneath the trees, with chickens scrambling around the mulch-covered ground while the owner's dogs prowled about hoping for table scraps.
The ultra-casual setting belied a relatively sophisticated menu that included seafood eggs benedict that Paul craved at least once a week.
Even at this early hour the restaurant was crowded. This time of year, with so many tourists on the island, there would soon be an hour's wait. Most of the tables had happy diners chowing down at them. But Paul didn't see Isaiah anywhere among them. He was about to ask the hostess for a table when his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. It didn't even surprise him when he saw the number Isaiah had been using on the caller ID.
"I assume you're watching me from somewhere?" Paul said as he answered.
"Look up," Isaiah responded.
Paul looked up, first into the trees and then at the second floor of the ramshackle wooden building that housed the restaurant's kitchen and small indoor dining section. On the second floor was another dining room, one usually closed except on the most crowded mornings. He saw Isaiah standing at the top of the stairs. He'd changed into less formal attire - a pair of jeans and a simple, short-sleeve button-down red shirt. Paul nodded at him and shut off his phone as he made for the stairway.
Upstairs he found Isaiah and Winston both waiting for him at a table, along with pitchers of coffee and juice and a platter of muffins and croissants. They had the small dining room to themselves, and Paul assumed they'd paid for the privilege of not being disturbed any further.
"You found my favorite restaurant," said Paul. "You seem to know everything."
Isaiah ignored the barb. "Please, take a seat," he said, motioning to the
chair across from him.
Paul nodded to Winston by way of saying hello, sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee and took a blueberry muffin from the tray. "Is there going to be a waitress coming?" he asked.
"Is there something you need?" asked Isaiah.
"Eggs. Bacon. Toast."
"If you could wait until we're finished," Isaiah said. "It shouldn't take long."
"Fine," said Paul, munching his muffin.
"So, did everything go all right at the hotel?" Winston asked. "Did you...?"
"Yeah, it went fine. We got her out of there."
"Where is she now?" Winston asked, his voice sad.
"For the moment we've got her hidden in a freezer in our backyard," said Paul. "But that's not a good long-term solution. It's not even a good short-term solution. If you could..."
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"We'll help you dispose of it," said Isaiah.
"I'll take care of it," said Winston. Isaiah looked over at the old man and the two stared at each other for half a heartbeat. "She was a friend. I owe her that much." Isaiah nodded in agreement and they both turned their gazes back on Paul.
"It's going to be tricky now that the sun is up," said Paul. "You never know who's watching. I'm told you can't be too careful."
"We can handle it discreetly I'm sure," said Winston.
"And I guess you already know where we live," said Paul. Winston nodded and smiled. Paul wondered if Isaiah had told him or if the old man had found out on his own. He was pretty sure Chloe hadn't filled her old mentor in on her supposedly hidden home base. Hidden no more it seemed. "Ok, well, the sooner the better."
"It will be my top priority when we're finished here."
"Great," Paul said, his voice dripping with sarcasm although the truth was that this was the first piece of news he'd heard that actually gave him some relief. Having Raquel's body in his backyard scared him stiff every time he thought about it. One call to the cops and he and Chloe were toast.
"What did you find in her room?" asked Isaiah, bringing the conversation back to where he apparently wanted it to be.
"Not much," said Paul. He'd gotten a full report from Bee and Chloe about their investigation. "Whoever killed her also ransacked the room. Or at least we think so. The room looked totally neat and undisturbed, but any laptops or other electronic devices Raquel might have had were gone. Also, Chloe found a hidden compartment in her luggage that was also empty. The killers covered their tracks very well."
"And how was she killed?" asked Isaiah.
"It looks like someone hit her over the head. Or it could be poison or something, but obviously we have no way of testing that. It looks like she was in a fight though. Bee took some skin samples from under her fingernails, so maybe we could do a DNA test or something. Not that we know how to do a DNA test. Do you?"
"No," admitted Isaiah.
"No," concurred Winston. "Although I might be able to use a contact of mine up in Miami. I can take the sample and send it to him if you like, but it would still take weeks to get results."
"Sure," said Paul. "Might as well."
"You said she fought back, but the room looked undisturbed," Isaiah said. "Do you think the killer cleaned up after the fight?"
"We think she was killed somewhere else," said Paul. "There was beach sand in the room and some of her clothes were damp. And there wasn't much blood. Nothing broken. Plus someone had removed the window from its frame. Our guess is, they killed her somewhere else and then moved her body back to the room."
"They?" asked Winston.
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"Well, it would've been real hard for just one person to move the body around like that and push it up through the window without being noticed. You gotta figure there was someone else, right? And we seem to come in packs."
"What do you mean, we'?" asked Isaiah.
"I mean crews, like mine or yours or Winston's. We're like packs of wolves aren't we? Feeding off the herd."
"That's a less than lovely metaphor," said Winston.
"It's a less than lovely murder," said Paul.
"And you're certain that one of us was responsible?" asked Isaiah.
"Well, not one of us in this room, I hope. But yeah, one of the Crews out there. Definitely."
"Why do you say that?" Isaiah asked.
"Well, it's a two-man job at least, probably more, and it's unlikely this is all a coincidence of some kind. And then there's the whole putting the body back in her room. Why do that? To send the rest of us a message."
"Explain," said Isaiah.
"Well, the killers put her back in her room. Why? Not to hide the body from the police, that much is for sure.
There wasn't a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. The maids would have found her body this morning. And then the police would have gotten involved. Plus, if they were moving her body anyway, then they could have hidden it anywhere. Or dumped it in the water - we're never more than a half mile from the ocean here. No.
They put her in her room, where there was every expectation that we would find her before dawn. Hell, we found her in under two hours once we started looking. So I figure they had to be sending us a message."
"I agree," said Isaiah.
"Well, that's nice to hear," said Paul. "Do you have any idea what the message is?"
"Do you?"
"No idea," said Paul. And he didn't. He knew it was a message, but he thought it was a pretty crappy one.
"Some sort of warning I guess."
"I agree with that assessment as well," said Isaiah.
"And what do you two think the killer was warning us about?" asked Winston. "Assuming that's what's really happening here."
"I assume that the killers are trying to scuttle our new project," Isaiah said. "By killing a key player in the corporation and then placing her body where we alone would find it in time, they're hoping to scare us off.
That alone tells us something about the killers,"
"What's that?" asked Winston.
"That they do not know me very well at all. I will not be dissuaded. And I hope you won't either," he said, looking both to Winston and Paul. "This should, if anything, strengthen our resolve. We need to find the Chapter 16
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killers. We need to take care of them. And then we need to move on. Our course is clear."
Isaiah's voice never changed from its level, careful tones, but Paul saw real anger in the man's eyes. From the little he knew of Isaiah, he could guess that he was a man who prided himself on keeping his emotions in check. But behind the calm façade was a hint of fury that he couldn't hide. "What do you mean, take care of ?"
Paul asked.
"That depends on who and what we find. But we obviously need to make sure that whatever group or person killed Raquel can never hurt us again. Absolutely sure. We are all agreed on this point, are we not?"
"Of course," said Winston.
"I guess so," said Paul. "I mean, I'm not making any promises. And I'm not going to turn into anyone's hit man. We'll just have to see how it plays out, won't we?"
"Yes," said Isaiah. "Which is why we need to proceed with the investigation. I know this is your island, Paul.
And I know that you have resources and knowledge here that we visitors can't match."
"You seem to have good resources of your own," said Paul.
"Not as good as you think. You were just sloppy. I put this down to your inexperience with such matters and the natural stresses you must have felt dealing with a murder for the first time," said Isaiah. Not quite the first time, thought Paul, but there was no reason to point that out to Isaiah. "Hopefully you have now learned a lesson. My point is this: We probably won't be able to solve this mystery without you and Chloe, so I want you to continue your investigation. If you need anything from me or from Winston, don't hesitate to ask."
"And what're you going to be doing in the meantime?" asked Paul. "Snooping around on your own behin
d our backs, I assume."
"Winston is going to help dispose of the body. I'm going to continue doing what I came here to do - I will not be dissuaded. Later today I'm meeting again with Eddie to discuss future plans and alternatives to how he might be involved now that Raquel is gone. Hopefully you and Chloe will turn up some more leads by then."
"We're working on it," said Paul, but his mind was elsewhere. He was remembering Sandee's conversation with Eddie, which he'd watched via the party's hidden cameras. Eddie had been pretty careful, but Sandee had gotten him to brag about his prowess as a planner. He'd talked about having a backup plan. How he always had a backup plan. A particularly nasty possibility occurred to Paul.
"I think we're done here," said Isaiah. "We've all got much to..."
"Wait a sec," interrupted Paul. "There's another possibility."
"What's that?" asked Isaiah.
"When you talk to Eddie, there's a strong possibility that he's going to suggest someone to replace Raquel in the corporation. Someone or some crew that he already knows and trusts."
Isaiah stared at Paul for a long, hard moment. "Why do you think that?"
"Like you said, this is my island and I've got resources here you two don't. Just trust me on this one. Eddie's got someone else lined up and ready to jump into the inner circle now that there's an opening at the table. I'll bet you."
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Isaiah sat back in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table. "I don't bet."
"Whatever. Just wait and see. It'll happen."
"And if it does?" Isaiah asked.
"Well, then that opens up another possibility. No one was sending a message or trying to scuttle the group.
They were just trying to change the dynamic of the founding members. They killed Raquel and left her body in her room because they knew we'd find it." Paul's mind was racing and he was talking almost as fast, the realizations spilling out of his mouth as they occurred to him. "If they dumped the body in the water, we wouldn't know for sure that she was dead. They leave it out for the cops to find and, well, now you've got the cops involved and no one wants that. Place the body where only we will find it and now we know for sure that she's dead, but there are no cops. And since we know she's dead, we also know that we can start looking right away for someone to replace her."