by Pat McKee
I flew to Brunswick and hired a driver and a four-wheel-drive truck with about two feet of ground clearance to take me to Grey’s. The truck handled the rutted route a lot better than my car had. It was late in the afternoon when we made our way up to the lodge. My anticipation was keen; I was almost as excited to see Grey and Rebecca as I was looking forward to see Melissa again. My driver dropped me off close to the barn, and I walked the last hundred yards. Rebecca was on the front porch; Grey, working his iron pots of fish and grits in the yard.
“Damn if you didn’t sneak up on me again. Too bad I don’t have my shotgun with me or I’d a busted a shell in your direction just for old time’s sake. Rebecca’s got a cooler on the porch, and I think we’re more’n a few ahead of you.”
Rebecca tossed me a beer and walked down the steps to join us at the cookers. “Grey and I haven’t had any excitement since you and Melissa left. What’s going on with you and that girlfriend of yours?”
“Well, I’m not so sure what’s going on. Ever since Grey sprung me out of Big Dog’s jail, she’s been down in Florida recuperating with Cabrini, and I’ve been up in Atlanta trying to get my professional life straightened out. Just been down once to Cabrini’s in the last two weeks on Milano family business, and it didn’t seem like she was all that excited to see me.”
Rebecca raised her eyebrows at the mention of Cabrini, but she said nothing. It was the most restraint I’d ever seen her exhibit. Instead she moved on to a lighter topic.
“Grey told me you spent the night down in the Brunswick jail with a few prostitutes. Must have been a hell of a time.”
“Yeah, I had no idea I was going to have to spend a night in jail to convince Big Dog that I was telling the truth.”
Grey slapped me on the back.
“Well hell, everything worked out didn’t it? As I recall, the last time you showed up here things weren’t looking so good. But you saved the girl, evaded certain death, escaped incarceration, landed the client, started your own firm, and got your Mom into rehab. I’d say things turned out pretty damn well—Speakin’ of, how’s your Momma?”
“I got a good report just before I came down. She has stopped calling the clinicians ‘Nazi bastards.’ They tell me it’s a good sign, but . . .”
Rebecca acted incensed on my mother’s behalf.
“Hell, if anyone took my liquor I’d be callin’ ‘em worse’n that.”
“. . . things are still up in the air with Melissa. Now that she and Placido are out of danger I’m not so sure she’s still all that enamored with her father’s lawyer. After I leave here, I’m hoping to spend some time with her this weekend to find out.”
“You don’t mean to say that girl may have just used you?”
Grey’s comment was dripping with sarcasm. Can’t say that I blame him. He told me to be careful.
“Like I said, you need an exit strategy.”
Rebecca reinforced Grey’s skepticism.
“I’ll say you do. Hell, if I’d a had a good-looking man like you risk his ass to save me, I’d be all over him. If old Grey here wasn’t around, I’d be checking you out. That Milano girl wouldn’t have a chance.”
“She sure as hell wouldn’t. If old Grey here didn’t have that big gun of his I’d be checking you out too.”
“So I guess you two need to remember old Grey here still has his big gun. And that’s just how Rebecca likes it.”
Grey, Rebecca, and I had a celebratory dinner of fried fish, cheap beer, and buttered grits, and we continued our bantering as we all fell satiated into the rockers on the porch. It was a chance to get Grey to answer some questions about what happened at South Cat Cay the night Melissa and I were facing execution.
“Since you were on the island, why didn’t you come and get us out rather than let us think we were going to die in the morning? That was a hell of a way to spend the night.”
“We didn’t know where you two were. We were afraid if we came in blastin’ we might hit the wrong people. So we had to wait till they hung you out as bait for Placido. As soon as we saw you two on the porch and Brown and Anthony set up their ambush, we moved into the house and kept a watch.”
“So how did Placido get the Donzi to the dock? It seems to me that would take some practice to control that boat remotely, and you had no time to do it. It docked perfectly.”
“That was Ariel’s doing. All Placido did was to give her voice commands from his cell phone, and she did the rest. There wasn’t even a need to retrofit any radio controls; Ariel just took over the electronics on the boat and steered it right up to the dock. Looked pretty convincing to me. The big risk we ran was that Brown and Anthony would wait for someone to get out of the boat before making their move. If they would’ve discovered a trap, they could’ve gotten desperate and taken the two of you out before we could do anything. We’re fortunate that they were so pleased their plan had come together that they fired the RPG before they knew what was up. By the time they blew up the boat, Rebecca and I were in position.”
“I don’t get it. How’d you know which rocket they’d use, let Brown launch it, and disable the others?”
“Ariel again. RPGs are computer armed and guided. Placido told her to let the one loose toward the boat but to jam any that were fired toward us. She knew where Placido was at all times from his cell, so when the pilot targeted one at him in the floatplane, she detonated it on the spot, killing Anthony and the pilot. They never felt a thing.”
“So Ariel took the two of them out even though Placido only told her to jam the RPG?”
“Yeah. That’s been a puzzle to me. Placido told me he’d programed Ariel never to do anything to harm a human being physically unless he gave her a specific command to do so. You were in the plane with him. He never directed Ariel to kill Anthony. I don’t think he had it in him to do it. Ariel must’ve seen Anthony as a continuing threat to Placido, Melissa, and you, and she took the opportunity to eliminate it.”
“But that seems contrary to everything I understand about computers. I thought they can’t act contrary to their programing.”
“Well, that would be the way an ordinary computer program would work. But Ariel is no ordinary computer program. It seems to me she has the ability to learn from experience and modify her behavior based on that, just like a human. As far as I can tell, she is able to change her own operating program over time, giving her different responses to circumstances from those she started with.”
“She sure as hell took care of Anthony.”
“And don’t forget, pretty boy,” Rebecca jumped in, “it was me who saved your ass from Brown. As I recall, he was just about to drive a pig sticker through your throat when I blew his damn head off.”
“And for that I will be forever grateful. To both of you.”
“And Ariel again! She was the one who told us you were in trouble and needed help. Without her intervention, you and Melissa would be dead, Rebecca and I would be at Slow River, and Placido and Cabrini would still be sitting at some Louis Town bar not knowing what the hell happened. From the day Ariel first popped up on my computer screen and Placido told her to help you, she’s been your guardian angel.”
“I had no idea just how much until I met with Placido at the lighthouse. Ariel had been keeping me out of trouble even before I ever showed up at your lodge. She blinded the helicopters so they couldn’t pick me up in the woods. Had I understood her capabilities earlier I would’ve used her a lot more.”
I hesitated to bring up the vision of Ariel I had in the ocean that first morning on Frederica Island for fear Grey would think all the stress had gotten to me. And by now I really wasn’t sure of what I had seen. But I thought Grey would have an idea what happened.
“She might’ve been trying to communicate with me even before I met with Melissa and Anthony. The first morning I was on Frederica Island, I decided to take a swim before breakfast. I was out pa
st the sandbar where the bottom drops off fast and I dove down to check out the marine life. As a child I’d gotten used to opening my eyes underwater, and I swear to you when I did, I saw Ariel’s face, though I didn’t know it was her at the time. After I came up for air and went back down, she was gone. At the time I thought it was some strange vision, but when I saw her face projected from your computer, I realized it was Ariel.”
Rebecca had a more mundane explanation.
“Sounds to me like you were down a bit too long without oxygen. And besides, how’d Ariel know to make contact before you met with Melissa and Anthony?”
Grey seemed less doubtful.
“Ariel knew about Anthony’s efforts to murder Placido. And she knew about Paul’s work on behalf of Milano Corporation. It could’ve been Ariel’s idea to have Melissa enlist Paul’s help.
“As far as her appearance to Paul underwater, that seems a bit tricky, but nothing Ariel can do surprises me. Salt water is an excellent conductor of electricity, the medium through which Ariel operates. And it’s the source from which all life on earth originated. In the end it all borders on magic.”
“Since Placido freed Ariel I’ve lost touch with her. She doesn’t appear when I open my laptop and doesn’t respond when I try to contact her. The last thing she did for me was set up my weekend with Melissa at the Abbey.”
“Well, maybe she can work her magic once again.”
I’d arranged for a flatbed wrecker to make its way up the rutted trail to Grey’s the next morning to pick up my battered car, no longer confident that I could drive it out the way I had driven it in. I told Grey and Rebecca goodbye, promising to be back soon, knowing it would be a while before I could justify the time to get back to the lodge. The last time I was here, I left wondering who was the more fortunate, Grey or me. This time I had no doubt.
The wrecker took my car and me to the Porsche dealer in Savannah. The sales people out front of the dealership showing off their shiny new models herded their customers in the opposite direction when we pulled up with my 911, rear bumper missing, undercarriage dented, scratches from diving under tree branches, detritus of the woods clinging to the once-bright finish. In the service bay, the technician acted insulted by the condition of my car.
“Mr. McDaniel, a 911 is not an off-road vehicle. You should consider trading for a Cayenne.”
“Well, you’re wrong about that. A 911 is a fine off-road vehicle. I have mine to prove it. Just suffers from a lack of ground clearance. All I ask is that you fix it.”
I handed him my card.
“Let me know when it’s ready.”
The manager expressed his displeasure by refusing to give me a Porsche loaner but arranged instead for me to drive a small Korean rental. It was out of place among the luxury vehicles in front of the hotel when I pulled up to the Abbey Thursday night, but the valet took the keys and parked it for me just the same.
Twenty-Eight
The morning light streaming in my window woke me. My room had a view over the pristine grasslands bordered by the Reed Banks River flowing behind the Abbey. The Tempest was moored at the hotel dock below.
I wasn’t expecting to see Cabrini’s boat. It could only mean that Cabrini, once again, had shown up at the Abbey, as unwelcome this time as he was the first. I went down, hoping to find Cabrini at the dock, to see why the hell he’d pulled up on the weekend that Melissa and I were supposed to have to ourselves. I’d hoped this weekend would set my relationship with Melissa on a meaningful course. It wasn’t starting well.
I walked down the dock toward the sailboat, looking for signs of activity. The shackle on the halyard clanged against the mast as it had on the morning we embarked on our quest to rescue Melissa. The rhythmic clapping sounded with every wave that slapped the hull. The sound grew more insistent the closer I got, the louder the knocking against the mast.
No one appeared above. The hatch below was closed. I rapped on the deck.
“Captain! Permission to come aboard.”
No one stirred. I knocked on the deck again and called out a second time. A minute or so passed. I had concluded that no one was on board and had decided to go back up to the lobby when the hatch slid open.
Melissa appeared in a long white blouse open to the waist and nothing underneath. The smile she was wearing to greet her visitor changed into a frown when she saw it was me.
“What’re you doing here? You aren’t supposed to be—”
“We’re supposed to meet this morning. Ariel . . .”
“Our meeting is tomorrow, not today.”
“. . . Ariel told me to meet you in the lobby this morning. I saw the boat, so I—”
“I thought you were Hector, that he had gotten locked out. He went out earlier. We’d planned for him to be gone before you arrived.”
“Look, I can come back . . .”
Melissa glanced toward the hotel, her eyes fixed, and I turned. Cabrini was at the far end of the dock in running shorts, jogging our way. It took him a moment to close the distance to the boat as Melissa and I stood in silence. He slowed his run to a walk, hands on hips, panting. Without a shirt, sweat glistening on his olive skin, I could see why women found him so attractive. Melissa kept her eyes on him as he circled our end of the dock.
“So Paul . . . What’re you doing here . . . I thought you . . . weren’t coming . . . till tomorrow.”
“I’m as surprised to see you as you are to see me. Looks like Ariel scheduled the three of us together this morning.”
Cabrini grabbed a towel hanging from a lifeline, wiped his face. I caught a knowing glance from Melissa to Cabrini, one that wasn’t meant for me, but her eyes said what must’ve been on each of our minds.
“Ariel knows too much. It was stupid for Father to set her free. Look what she’s—”
“It’s obvious you weren’t expecting me, so why don’t I . . .”
“No, Paul, we need to talk.” Melissa made a point of buttoning her blouse.
I nodded toward Cabrini.
“Whatever we have to say is between us. No reason to for him—”
“You don’t get it, do you Paul?”
“Maybe I’m beginning to . . .”
“Paul, it’s foolish for you to think we can be together.”
I should’ve seen it coming. But it still felt like a punch in the face.
Cabrini stood there, smirking.
“I prefer not to discuss this in front of him.”
“Hector and I share everything.”
He continued to smirk. I wanted to shove him in the river, but I turned back to Melissa.
“So nothing, none of what happened between us, none of that matters?”
“Look, Paul, I find you very attractive, and we’ve had some good times, but don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Good times? Most of those times we both thought we were going to die at any moment. I risked my life to save yours, and that’s all you can say? Your uncle was right: there is something wrong with you.”
By this time Cabrini had toweled off, stepped aboard his sailboat, and leaned against the cabin next to Melissa. She put her arm around his waist.
“You should’ve heeded that warning. You had time.”
“So why didn’t you just tell me? You had plenty of opportunities. Why string me along?”
“Your positions as both the family attorney and the corporate lawyer complicate things significantly. I wanted to make sure Placido had an opportunity to put the transfer of ownership in motion and for you to get the legal work accomplished. I didn’t want to do anything to derail that.”
“So, I’m still just the hired help, aren’t I?”
“And you perform your role admirably.”
The picture in Cabrini’s office popped into my mind once again.
“You knew about the liti
gation all along, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. I’ve been working with Hector the entire time. We both resented Placido for keeping us out of the family business, and we hated Anthony for trying to pass the company on to Enzo. We waited for our opportunity to take what’s rightfully ours. Anthony handed it to us.”
Cabrini couldn’t help getting in his shot.
“We figured we could win the case and drain the assets of Milano through SyCorAx. I knew that Anthony was withholding key information from me, but I counted on Melissa’s access to the corporation to make up for it. Anthony figured out what we were up to and thwarted us. But then Halo Electronics came down. It was a gift out of the blue. With that ruling I thought I had the case won in spite of everything else. Then . . .”
I completed his thought.
“ . . . Fowler bribed the judge just to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“When you won, Hector and I had to come up with a new plan. Anthony tried to kill our father to solidify his hold on Milano, so we had no choice but to pitch in with Placido to help him recover his interest in the corporation. Otherwise, if Anthony had done away with Placido, Hector and I would’ve been left with no inheritance at all.”
“That’s about when I showed up.”
“And came to my rescue.”
I hesitated to ask, but I had to know, though with all the Milano’s manipulations now in the open, the answer to my question seemed predetermined.
“The thing that put all this in motion, Billingsley’s death, wasn’t a suicide was it?”
“Don’t be naïve, Paul,” Melissa snickered. “It was Fowler. Anthony wanted to convince Billingsley to retire. When he wouldn’t take a very sizable payoff, Fowler got impatient. He had his security team drug Billingsley and throw him off the building. Fowler was displeased that Billingsley’s body landed in the fountain instead of on the sidewalk. Made for some bad photo ops for the firm.”
At least Fowler and Anthony got what was coming to them. There was still Melissa and Cabrini, and they had come out on top of all of it.