Under Pressure

by Kathy Brandt

  Jimmy reveled in the title “Deputy” and loved flashing his badge. It had nothing to do with authority or power. He was a nineteen-year-old with raging hormones who would use any device at hand on the easily impressed and bikini-clad. But the thing was, Jimmy had grown up in these islands and he knew how to get information. All it had taken was a couple of questions to some of the locals on the docks down in Road Town harbor. He had not even needed to fire up the Wahoo to learn that the sleek speedboat was called the Mystic Runner.

  Evidently half a dozen fishermen down at the docks unloading fish traps had witnessed an argument between a woman on the Mystic Runner and Enok Kiersted.

  “Dey all be laughin’ ‘bout it. Said dat woman couldn’t of been much bigger dan a child and Kiersted be one big man. She don grabbed him, twisted his arm so hard she ‘bout broke it. Told Kiersted to be stayin’ out of somethin’ he couldn’t be finishin’.”

  Only one person fit the description—Zora Gordon. I was on my way out the door when the phone rang. It was a call from Stark’s old partner in Miami. He’d checked on Zora’s boss and learned the guy was known to be involved in illegal gambling and prostitution, but they’d never been able to convict him on anything. Seems he had a good lawyer: Zora.

  I asked Jimmy to keep trying to contact Stark and have him meet me at the marina over at Brandywine Bay. When I got there, the guard recognized me and let me in without so much as a hello. I found myself wishing that Stark was standing by my side. It was stupid to be out on my own, but I didn’t have the time to wait. I knew that once the storm moved in, my investigation would come to a screeching halt. I wasn’t about to gamble that I’d be able to pick up where I’d left off or that Zora or anyone else involved would still be around.

  Zora was in the salon and she was put out with the fact that I was there. She didn’t bother to offer refreshments. Today she was wearing a tank top and leotards. In spite of her size, it was clear that the woman was capable of following through on her threat to Kiersted. I wondered what motivated her to train to the point that her body resembled steel. “I don’t know what else I can tell you about that crash that I haven’t already told you,” she said.

  “This isn’t about the crash. Actually, the investigators have determined it was an oversight in fueling.”

  “Doesn’t that just figure,” she said, shaking her head.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. If the crash is resolved, why are you here, Detective? Surely you have better things to do than continue to harass the passengers.”

  “Well, you know,he a Zora, this whole week has been just one thing after another—airplane crashes, a break-in and poor old Capy in the hospital. Now why would someone break into that warehouse when it turns out there was nothing to cover up? Then we find a body over in the mangroves yesterday and then the local environmentalist shoots himself. And you know what? It was the very same gun that was stolen from the warehouse. A gun that I recovered from that wreck. Now the thing is, I can’t figure out how that gun ended up in that dead guy’s hands.”

  “Seems pretty obvious he stole it from the warehouse.”

  “Guess that’s what someone wanted us to believe, anyway. But you know what? I don’t buy it. And whose gun was it to begin with? I don’t suppose you brought it on board that plane, maybe lost it in the wreck, maybe worried about it being traced to you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. If it was my gun, it would not be traceable.”

  “Oh yeah?” I challenged.

  She realized she’d made a mistake even suggesting she knew how to keep a weapon under the radar.

  “What do you want here?” she said.

  “I hear you’re interested in buying the property down at Paraquita Bay?”

  “I don’t know where you heard that.”

  “The owner said he saw the Mystic Runner out there when he was showing Conrad Frett around. He saw him board your boat.”

  “I’m sure he’s mistaken. Why would I be interested in a bunch of swamp land?”

  “So you know the lagoon?”

  “What are you getting at, Sampson?”

  “You know that we pulled Frett’s body out of those mangroves over there yesterday?”

  “Are you insinuating that I was involved?”

  “I heard you work for some unsavory people in the States,” I said.

  “Everyone has the right to a lawyer. I’m good and I’m well paid.”

  “What about Enok Kiersted? Did you know him?”

  “Never heard of the guy.”

  “That’s not what I heard. A whole bunch of people saw him arguing with you down at the docks.”

  “Oh that guy. I didn’t know his name. Never saw him before he showed up down there. Now, I’m very sorry, Detective, but I’ve got better things to do than listen to veiled accusations from you.”

  She was on her way to the lower deck, no doubt to the gym, when I left. I knew she wasn’t about to admit anything, but I wanted to push her. Maybe she’d make a mistake.

  I went out to the Rambler and sat inside, hoping Stark would show up and watching the waves crashing into the concrete seawall nearby and trying to figure out what was missing. If Zora had killed Frett and Kiersted, what the hell was she waiting around for? The more time I spent running events through my mind, the more I began to wonder whether I was dreaming up the entire scheme and Zora’s involvement.

  Chapter 30

  Zora lay on the bench, straining to lift the weights and work off her anger. He was standing behind her, spotting.

  “Poltolski is going to be pissed when he finds out the whole deal is off. No big casino, no big resort, and no opportunity to launder all his dirty money,” he said.

  “Don’t worry about Poltolski. Besides, there are other islands in the Caribbean. We’ll simply find another, darlin’,” Zora said.

  “None as perfect as this. And we spent a lot of time and money getting Frett on board. If you hadn’t been so damned eager to kill him, we wouldn’t be in this situation now. What would it have cost us? Half a million is chicken feed to Poltolski. Instead you let your temper get out of control. We’ve got to put an end to this now.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of it today and get out before that storm hits,” she said as she finished another set.

  “Right. Don’t worry. That’s what you said before you followed the kid out to the airport. Couldn’t even take care of a nine-year-old. Then you follow him onto a plane and the thing crashes.

  “Hardly my fault,” Zora said.

  “Maybe not, but the warehouse was a debacle.”

  “We couldn’t get what wasn’t there, and I got my gun back, didn’t I? It was a stroke of genius to use it on Kiersted. That asshole pissed me off. Nobody threatens me.”

  “It didn’t throw Sampson off for a minute. She’s on the verge of putting it all together. This whole thing has just spiraled out of control.”

  “Our luck is about to change. I can feel it. Come on, sweetheart, relax,” she said, setting the weights in the rack and pulling him on top of her onto the weight bench.

  “I don’t know why I put up with you, Zora.”

  “I know why, darlin’. Face it, you like your sex mean. And I’m the one to give it to you,” she said and bit him hard on the lip.

  “Christ!” he yelled, brushing the blood away. “Knock it off. Look at this,” he said, getting up and peering into the mirror. “It’s swelling.”

  He went back over to the weight bench, grabbed her, and threw her to the floor as thunder rumbled somewhere out in the ocean.

  Chapter 31

  I’d been sitting out in the Rambler in Brandywine Bay for fifteen minutes, watching the lightning play across the distant sky and staring at the Mystic Runner through a fogged windshield. The runabout was tied up alongside the yacht. Something about the thing silhouetted through the rain was very familiar. That’s when it hit me. It looked a lot like the boat that had marred the pictures that
Simon had taken of the egret high in the mangroves. It had that sleek silhouette, with the sharp bow jutting out over the water, that had been visible, even in the small frame of the digital camera. Had Simon and his father been in the lagoon the same day that the speedboat had picked up Frett?

  I headed straight to the photo shop. Gus had printed the photos that I’d asked him to enlarge. There were five—two of Simon and his dad and three of the series that Simon had taken of the egret in the lagoon. It was all there, the proof unfolding in the eight-by-ten color photos.

  The first showed the Mystic Runner in the mangroves just at the edge of the frame, drifting. In the next I could clearly make out the people on board. There were three—one that I was sure was Conrad Frett, the other unmistakably a short redhead—Zora Gordon—and another man, his face hidden under a baseball cap. In the next photo the boat had drifted farther into the frame. Zora was holding a gun and Frett had his hands to his chest and was going down. In the final photo, Frett was out of sight, no doubt lying on the deck, and Zora looked like she was staring directly at the camera. The other guy’s face was still hidden under the shadows of the cap.

  “Gus, can you load that CD and pull this photo up on your computer?” I asked.

  “Sure, no problem.” He slid the CD into the drive. It seemed to take forever for the photos to load. Finally he had them all up and moved quickly to the sequence.

  “Go to the last one of the egret. Can you zoom in on the guy in the baseball cap?” I asked. He moved the cursor to that portion of the photo and when he clicked on the zoom, a face emerged from under the cap—Daniel Stewart’s face.

  Jeezus, I had been a fool. I couldn’t get to the school fast enough. Traffic was backed up for a herd of goats. At least a dozen people were standing out in the rain trying to corral them. All they were succeeding in doing was scattering them and scaring them down the middle of the damn road when they would have crossed on their own. Horns were blaring and several people were taking the opportunity to get out of their cars to stand under umbrellas and shoot the breeze.

  I glanced at my watch. It was two forty-five. What time did school get out? Three? In an act of desperation, I laid on the horn. I knew it wouldn’t do any good. It didn’t. No one paid any attention.

  A stomach-churning, mind-numbing fear hit me as I sat helpless in the middle of the bleating goats that had finally made their way back to my car. With the tail of the last one swishing against my back fender, I cut the Rambler out of the traffic, bumped over the curb and swerved back onto the clear section of road, leaving others wondering at the American cop in her old Rambler, who was always in a hurry.

  When I got to the school, the playground was deserted, the swings hanging empty. I ran inside, sure the kids must still be in class. It was only a few minutes to three. The halls echoed with the unmistakable emptiness of one pair of feet, mine, racing to the main office. I knew already that the kids were gone.

  A custodian was on his way out, locking the door behind him.

  “Where are the kids?” I demanded, breathless.

  “The principal let ‘em all go home early, count of da storm comin’,” he said. “Buses left ‘bout a half hour ago.”

  Could someone have gotten to Simon? That’s what this had been about all along. The kid didn’t go anywhere without his camera. That’s why Zora had been on that plane. And when they hadn’t found the camera in the warehouse, they’d realized he had it. The man in the trees. It had to have been one of them, probably Burke, watching Simon. They’d sent that kid to the market to try to grab the camera and I was betting that Simon had not had a nightmare last night. One of them had been on the Sea Bird.

  “Did you see the new kid, Simon Redding, get on the bus?”

  “Sure, he be leavin’ with da others,” the custodian said. “You know, another guy be up here lookin’ for him too.”

  “What did he look like?” I asked.

  “Big guy, hair all spiked, almos white it be so blond,” he said.

  It had to be Burke. Daniel Stewart would have sent him to the school. I’d actually told Stewart that Simon had taken the camera to class today. Why hadn’t I seen it? He and Zora had been trying to grab the camera for the past three days. I’d blown it. My visit to the Mystic, my pushing Zora. It would force their hand. That had been my intention. But I had never imagined that it would jeopardize Simon. Now they’d be getting desperate. They’d go after Simon and they’d take the camera and the kid too. They couldn’t afford not to.

  I tore back down the coast highway to Pickering's Landing. I prayed that I got there before it was too late. I skidded into the parking lot and ran to the marina. I could see Calvin steering a boat out into the bay and the Sea Bird still tied to the dock. Tilda was inside getting the girls ready to go to her sister’s to sit out the storm.

  “Hannah, what on earth is the matter?” she said when I burst through the door.

  “Simon. Did he come home with Rebecca?”

  “Of course he did,” she said. “You be turnin’ into one mother hen, Hannah. He be out on da Sea Bird, waitin’ for you. Tole him you be takin’ him up to O’Brien’s before dat storm hits.”

  “Jeez, Tilda, I was really worried.” I could feel the panic subside. She was right. I had never felt that kind of fear before, a fear that I could not think past or smother with logic.

  “He be fine. That Daniel Stewart fellow came by. He be out dar with him.”

  “Christ,” I said and ran down the dock to the Sea Bird.

  Chapter 32

  They were sitting at the table in the salon. Stewart had one arm over Simon’s shoulder. In the other hand he held a revolver. The smashed camera card lay at his feet. Simon was trying hard not to show how scared he was.

  “Let the kid go, Daniel. There’s no point in hurting him. It won’t do you any good. I had copies of those photos printed. I left them with Dunn on my way over here.”

  “That’s not going to work, Hannah. You see, while I was heading over here to find Simon, Zora was following you.”

  His cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket with one hand, the gun pressed against Simon’s belly. He never took his eyes off me.

  “Yes, she just got here,” he said to the person on the other end, no doubt Zora. “What about the guy at the camera shop?” he asked, then paused.

  “You didn’t have to kill him,” he said. “I know, baby, but… Fine. I’ll meet you out in the channel. We need to get out of here before that storm hits.”

  Gus, I thought. They killed Gus.

  “Take her out, Hannah,” Stewart said, putting the phone down. “Tell Calvin you decided to secure the Sea Bird in Paraquita Bay. And don’t screw it up. I’ll be sitting down here keeping Simon company.”

  I grabbed a rain poncho, went up top and started the engine, then cast the lines off. I motored slowly out to where Calvin was tying boats together and yelled at him that O’Brien had offered to secure the boat over in the mangroves. Not much I could do but explain later, if I had the chance. A big if. I knew that Zora and Daniel Stewart would kill both Simon and me. They didn’t have a choice. Stewart was obviously in way too deep. And Zora? Hell, she’d enjoy it.

  If I’d thought it would have done any good, I’d have alerted Calvin. But I figured it would only serve to get him killed too. I pulled away before he had a chance to argue with me. When I looked back, he was still standing in his boat staring at the Sea Bird. Had he seen through the lie? He should have. Calvin knew that I trusted him completely and depended on him to take care of my boat.

  I grabbed the horseshoe-shaped float from its rack and raised it above my head. Hoping he’d get the message. The horseshoe had but one purpose—rescue.

  Once I was clear of the harbor, Stewart came up top.

  “Where is Simon?” I asked, the fear breaking in my voice.

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s all right. He’s just got a bit of tape around him. He got a little out of hand down there while you were talk
ing to Calvin.”

  “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you, Daniel.”

  “You’re in no position to make threats, Hannah,” he said, handing me the duct tape. “Now, I want you to wrap this around your wrist and secure it to the steering wheel.”

  He stood back with the gun pointed at my chest and watched as I did what he said. Then he secured my other wrist to the wheel and stood under the bimini.

  “You know, Hannah, I’m sorry about all this. I can see that you’ve gotten attached to that boy. I’m really upset that it came to this. I mean it. All we needed was that camera, but nothing worked out. Now there aren’t any options left.”

  “Come on, Daniel. It’s a damn excuse. You’re good at it. It’s all rationalization to do what you really want to do anyway.”

  “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Hannah. You don’t know me.”

  “I know you. I deal with your type all the time. It’s all about what you need, isn’t it, Daniel? But tell me, how did you get involved with Zora Gordon?”

  “Zora and I have been together ever since a spring day under the football field bleachers when we were juniors in high school. I never knew sex could be like that. She came from the same crappy town I did and we got out together. As soon as we graduated, we headed for L.A.

  “Zora’s always been the smart one. She knows what she wants and she goes after it. She hooked up with Poltolski in a bar in L.A., and she’s had him wrapped around her little finger ever since. He paid for her law school and I got to be a movie star on his buck. She’s been keeping him out of jail forever. He’d do anything for her.”

  “You ever wonder why?” I asked him.

  “Of course, I know why. The sex. And it’s fine with me. We both know it’s a means to an end. When he asked her to set up the money-laundering operation down here, there was never any doubt I’d come with her. She made it clear to Poltolski that she wanted to run the whole operation and that I’d be part of it—a celebrity with a name, to add credibility, was the way she explained it to him.”