An Easy Sail_A Connie Barrera Thriller_The 8th Novel in the Series_Mystery and Adventure in Florida and the Caribbean

by Charles Dougherty

  Delaney had indicated that he could deliver them by helicopter to anywhere within about a 400-mile radius of San Juan. Isla de Aves came to mind as a good rendezvous point; one of his speedboats could make a round trip there in about three hours. Delaney had offered to bring them directly to Montalba, but that would mean revealing his location. He'd call Delaney in a few hours and arrange a pickup at Isla de Aves. As with Beverly Lennox, though, Montalba didn't consider the brothers critical to his goal. They could wait.

  Preparing to meet Barrera was his top priority. She was in southern Martinique. He reflected on where they could meet. She would likely have access to a high-speed boat, even if she had to borrow or rent one. Meeting her at sea, as he had done with Reuben Griffin, was a possibility.

  He had the option of his helicopter, which put a couple of small, uninhabited islands in range for him, but that meant she'd have to travel almost two hundred nautical miles.

  Meeting at sea would probably work better. They could each use a speedboat, and travel for an hour or less. The chance of anyone stumbling upon their meeting would be slight, too. Although the islands he considered were uninhabited, people still visited them.

  Unlike when he met Griffin, this time he was worried about his own safety. Griffin had no motivation to harm him, but these people were different. On more than one occasion, they had overpowered Delaney's special-ops teams.

  He wasn't worried about Barrera alone; he was sure he could handle her. If she brought security, though, he could be in trouble. He would ponder that for a while.

  He could use J.-P. Berger's daughter as a hostage, but that would expose his enforcers. Unless he had them eliminate Dani Berger and her friend after his meeting with Barrera, his trusted killers would be compromised.

  Montalba's reluctance arose from practical concerns, not loyalty. Though the two had been with him since the early days, they were still expendable. The problem would be replacing them.

  The guy would be easier to replace, but his female partner would be trickier. There were more women working as contract killers now than there had been when he found this pair, but good ones of either sex were still scarce. These two were charmers. They came across as a nice, pleasant upper middle-class couple, the kind of people you hoped would buy the house next door.

  They had come to Montalba's attention when they killed one of his lieutenants at the behest of a competitor. He'd hired them as soon as he had identified them, making them wealthy beyond their dreams. They were as cold–blooded as Montalba himself, seeming to derive no perverse pleasure from their work.

  It might be possible to come through this without losing them. J.-P. Berger was a businessman. He might understand that Montalba's threat to his daughter wasn't personal, that it was just a part of their negotiation. Of course, Montalba reminded himself, there might be no deal at the end of this effort. It could just as well turn into a fight to the finish. If that were the case, he'd need his two soldiers to finish Dani Berger and the Chirac woman and move on to the other people that Graciella had identified.

  The killers were poking around Guadeloupe's outlying islands, keeping an eye on Berger and Chirac. They could get to Martinique in a few hours if he needed them there. He'd hold off on having them take Berger's daughter until Graciella confirmed his meeting with Barrera.

  23

  "Clarence called late last night," Phillip said, as the group passed a thermal carafe of coffee around the table. "They didn't discover anything too surprising from Charlie Caruthers. His sister is Reuben Griffin's wife, and he's married to a woman from La Duprey. He's always spent a lot of time there; the place where Sandrine's agent overheard him asking about us belongs to one of his wife's cousins."

  "Did he have anything on Griffin that we didn't know?" Paul asked.

  "Griffin was recruited by somebody to run a drug smuggling and distribution operation in the southeastern U.S. Caruthers said that Griffin didn't know the man's name, but he has bad scars on his face. Griffin figured acid burns. It's kind of the man's trademark, from what Griffin told Caruthers. Griffin's been hearing rumors about him for years."

  "Okay," Connie said, "that tracks. So the scar-faced man put Griffin in that nightclub in Miami? The Pink Pussycat?"

  "Correct," Phillip said. "Griffin and Caruthers have been in the drug business in St. Lucia for a long time. Over the years, they had some contact with a guy named Pinkie Schultz. Schultz ran the nightclub in Miami that's now Griffin's base. He bought stuff from Griffin from time to time, and they did favors back and forth. When Schultz disappeared, a guy named Dick Kilgore took over. He didn't last but a few months as the boss, and then this LaRosa character took over. Not long ago, LaRosa killed himself, and the scar-faced man offered Griffin the chance to take over."

  "Did Griffin turn his St. Lucia business over to Caruthers, then?" Paul asked.

  "Kind of," Phillip said. "Caruthers said Griffin's deal with Scarface was that once he got things running smoothly in Miami, he could divide his time between St. Lucia and Miami."

  "Why was Caruthers asking about us?" Sandrine asked.

  "Griffin put him up to it. The scar-faced man's convinced we're all part of some cartel that's moving drugs into Europe as well as competing with him in the States."

  "And he wants a piece of it?" Connie asked.

  "That's what Caruthers thinks, but he didn't know for sure. Griffin's first mission for him was to find Beverly Lennox, and then learn all he could about us. Us includes Dani and J.-P., by the way."

  "What about Mary Ellen? Or Beverly Lennox?" Sandrine asked. "He must have asked someone for the database query we found."

  "He found out Lennox left for Miami and passed that to Griffin. Griffin couldn't find her there, so he put Caruthers to work looking for her here, again. The scar-faced man's behind it. He's — "

  "Excuse me," Connie said, "but that ties the scar-faced man to Montalba, doesn't it?"

  "Looks that way to me," Phillip said. "She identified Montalba, not Scarface. So if Scarface is hunting her, he must be connected to Montalba. And Beverly has to be pretty important to him. He's threatened to harm Griffin's son if they don't find her in the next few days."

  "Griffin's son?" Connie asked. "This is a real family business Griffin has. What role does his son play?"

  "None, according to Caruthers. The kid's ten; he's in St. Lucia with his mother, Caruthers's sister."

  "Ugh," Connie said. "Scarface must be a sick bastard."

  "Exactly what Caruthers said. He and Griffin think Beverly must have really pissed Scarface off," Phillip said. "That's about it on Caruthers. Did everybody get a chance to listen to Marie's report on her day with Marcia?"

  The other three nodded.

  "From what Marie said, Marcia thinks I'll be the one to meet her brother," Connie said. "Or maybe Paul. I'm guessing that's why she wants Marie to keep her name out of it, so she can keep spying on us."

  "Yes, I agree," Phillip said. "Even if you aren't the one to meet with him, she must think you're going to be in the loop."

  "She is nervous," Sandrine said.

  "Nervous? I didn't notice that," Connie said. "Did she seem upset to you last night at dinner?"

  "No, not nervous like that," Sandrine said. "This means she is bold, she is much nervous, no?"

  "You mean she has a lot of nerve?" Phillip asked.

  "Mais oui. Do I say this wrong?"

  "Nervous means frightened, or anxious," Connie said. "Saying she has a lot of nerve means she's bold, or has guts. She is brave, in other words."

  "Yes, this is it. She has big nerves, for sure. Thank you; I get this right?"

  "Close enough," Phillip said. "We're going to need to be ready to give Marie an answer sometime today, I think. What are you going to do about a meeting?"

  "I'll go," Connie said, "but we need to figure out how to ambush him. Can we call on Clarence for support? Marie seemed to assume he'd help us."

  "Yes. That's a given," Phillip said. "But it's still
going to be dangerous. This guy's not stupid; he'll protect himself, somehow. We need to control the location where you meet, for a start."

  "Did Caruthers know if Griffin had met with the scar-faced man?" Connie asked. "In person?"

  "Yes," Phillip said. "I was coming to that. They met on Griffin's sport fishing boat, maybe 30 miles west of St. Lucia. Caruthers was aboard, but he was up on the tuna tower, keeping a lookout. He couldn't hear their conversation, but he did get a quick look at the man. Scarface came from the west in a Cigarette boat."

  "Did he bring bodyguards?" Connie asked.

  "No. He was alone. But before you get excited, remember that he knew Griffin by reputation, at least. And they weren't adversaries. Scarface was offering Griffin a chance to make big bucks. He had no reason to be afraid of Griffin."

  "Even then, this scar-faced man had the nerve," Sandrine said. "I say this right?"

  "Perfect, Sandrine," Connie said. "You're thinking he'll be more careful about meeting me?"

  "I think he will," Paul said. "Maybe that's why he wanted to snatch Tiberius and Lucilius."

  "As hostages, you mean?" Phillip asked.

  Paul nodded.

  "I'm guessing Montalba was behind that," Connie said. "They threatened his sister, don't forget. Besides, if Scarface wanted leverage over me, he'd kidnap you."

  "That's a point," Paul said. "Or Dani, if he thinks J.-P.'s the big boss. Caruthers thought he wanted in on Europe; he probably knows J.-P. lives in Paris."

  "If he met Griffin 30 miles west of St. Lucia and he came from the west, he must have come from a boat," Connie said. "How long ago was that meeting?"

  "A week, give or take," Phillip said. "He might still be around. Or not. At this point we're stuck until Marie gets some word about a meeting. Scarface could be anywhere. Even if he is on a boat, he's sharp enough to keep moving, I'm sure."

  "You think he'll have Tiberius and Lucilius brought to him?" Connie asked.

  "Maybe, if he's even involved in that. Like you said, that could have been Montalba. We have no clue as to where he might be."

  "It was the scar-faced man who met Griffin," Connie said, frowning. "I wish we knew how he and Montalba fit together. I was thinking all along that I'd be meeting Montalba, but I guess we don't know that."

  "Not until we hear from Marie, anyway," Paul said. "I don't think it would raise any flags if we asked Marie to find out which one you're going to meet."

  "I think it would look suspicious if I didn't ask," Connie said. "Back to Tiberius and Lucilius — you think Sharktooth knows where they are, yet?"

  Phillip shook his head. "He'll call us as soon as he knows. I think we've about run dry. Maybe we should take a break until we have new information from him or Marie."

  "I'll vote for that," Connie said. "I'm starting to think in circles. Let's go for a walk, Paul. I need to work off some nervous energy. We can stay close by in case somebody calls."

  "Back here for lunch, maybe?" Paul asked.

  "Or sooner," Connie said.

  "What makes you think it wasn't just a mugging?" Griffin asked, exasperated. His brother-in-law had called to report on last night's events.

  "Because I hadn't shown the photo to anybody in that bar yet," Caruthers said. "She approached me and said she'd heard I was looking for a girl."

  "She could have followed you from one of the other places," Griffin said.

  "I woulda noticed her, mon. Couldn't miss one like that. She was hot; I spotted her before she came on to me, Reuben."

  "You dumbass," Griffin said. "What you get for not being able to keep it in your pants. She probably saw you eyeing her and decided you were a mark."

  "No, Reuben. She mentioned the picture I'd been showin' at the other places, and asked if the girl in it was someone special to me."

  Griffin felt his pulse begin to race. "How did you answer that?"

  "I told her a friend of mine had said I should look her up if I was ever in the area."

  "And what did she say?"

  "That her roommate might know her, and we could go back to their place and wait until she came home. She was out with a guy — the roommate was, I mean."

  "Then what?"

  "We got in a taxi. She sat in my lap and we started makin' out. That's the last thing I remember until I woke up in the ditch outside Fort-de-France."

  "She drug your drink?"

  "Uh-uh. I was drinking beer outta the bottle. No way."

  "You feelin' hung over at all?"

  "Not hung over, but kinda off, like I can't focus good, you know?"

  "You sure you weren't just drunk outta your skull?"

  "No way, Reuben. I was real careful. I didn't wanna mess this up. I kept thinkin' about Bobbie, mon."

  "You said you came to about daylight. Why'd you wait so long to call me?"

  "I was fucked up pretty bad, Reuben. Dizzy, trouble walkin', bitch drugged me somehow, for sure."

  "What about your cellphone? You shoulda called."

  "Gone."

  "She took it?"

  "Uh-huh. Everything I had in my pockets. Wallet, money, all of it. I couldn't even catch the damn bus into town, and wouldn't nobody stop an' give me a ride, either."

  "You back in La Duprey?"

  "Yeah, at my wife's cousin's place. I'm gonna go back to all the places I went last night and see if I can get a line on that woman."

  "Lennox?" Griffin asked.

  "Either one. Lennox or the one who messed me up."

  "Focus on Lennox, Charlie. The other one's long gone."

  "Why you say that?"

  "You're still messed up. You told me yourself it wasn't an ordinary mugging. She set you up. You ain't gonna find her again, I'll guarantee it. She's no barfly hooker, Charlie."

  "Yeah, you're right. Okay. I'll just keep askin' about Lennox, but I still think she's in Miami."

  "I don't think so," Griffin said. "Somebody in Martinique wanted to know why you were hunting her. That's a sign she's still there. That's my bet."

  "Okay," Caruthers said. "Anything else?"

  "No … Yeah! Any idea how long you were out? After she drugged you?"

  "Uh, lemme think. It was a little before midnight when I got to that club. I wasn't there long; only one dancer was on while I was there."

  "And you woke up at daylight?"

  "Yeah. Sun in my eyes."

  "So maybe six hours?"

  "Yeah, somethin' like that."

  "Okay," Griffin said. "Keep in touch, and be careful. Check your email for a new phone number for me. I gotta ditch this one now. If they crack your phone, they'll have this number."

  "Yeah," Caruthers said, and broke the connection.

  Griffin sat for a moment, staring into space. He shook his head. They'd drugged Charlie and no doubt interrogated him; he wouldn't remember it. And they had his phone, with whatever the dumb shit had stored in it.

  Then it clicked for him; they'd have access to Charlie's email through the phone. He couldn't reach Charlie by email without the risk of those people monitoring his messages. He'd get a new phone and call the cousin's bar, get word to Charlie that way.

  As much as he didn't want to, he knew he had to tell the scar-faced man what had happened. He opened his laptop computer and began composing an email to the secure address.

  "I know that you are as impatient as I am to get this meeting arranged," Marie LaCroix said. She and Marcia had stopped for lunch at an open-air restaurant overlooking Anse Charpentier on Martinique's east coast. "But I do hope that you are enjoying our island."

  "Oh, I am. You're right; it's beautiful here," Marcia said, adjusting the flatware on the table in front of her, her eyes focused on it. She looked up. "Can we talk?"

  Marie frowned at her. "We are talking, yes? I do not understand."

  "About what we were discussing yesterday. I noticed you avoided the topic while we were in the car."

  "Ah," Marie said. "This morning, my car is in the shop. This one belongs to a friend.
I did not want to risk that it might be bugged. One never knows. You have some news, maybe?"

  "I was in touch with my people last night."

  "Yes? And?"

  "They definitely want to pursue this."

  "The meeting, you mean?" Marie asked.

  "Yes. They're talking among themselves. Perhaps they are checking up on you. I don't know. But I expect to hear something yet today."

  "Checking up on me? Personally?"

  "I'm not sure, but I wouldn't be surprised."

  "They will learn nothing about me," Marie said. "But this checking, it is to be expected, I think."

  "And did you talk to the people on your side?" Marcia asked.

  Marie stared at Marcia until Marcia looked down at her silverware again. "But of course, I have been in communication with them. They also are interested, but as you say, they are checking. Maybe I will hear from them soon. One thing I know for sure, though."

  "What is that?" Marcia asked.

  "They will wish to know the person with whom they will meet, and where this meeting will happen."

  "Oh, sure. My people will want the same. As far as where it happens, that depends on who is meeting and how far they have to travel, I think."

  Marie let the silence hang.

  "Will you be part of the meeting?" Marcia asked, after thirty seconds.

  "I do not think so. I am what you would call a small fish, I think. And you?"

  Marcia shook her head. "Same here. I know both sides will worry about security."

  Marie nodded. "I am certain of this. Have you arranged this kind of meeting before?"

  "No. Have you?"

  Marie shook her head. "Not for drugs."

  "Not for drugs? But for something else?" Marcia asked.

  Marie looked out over the sloping hillside at the waves rolling in and crashing on the shoreline in the distance. "The sea is always rough on this side of the island," she said.

  Marcia frowned and started to say something, but her cellphone chimed. She picked it up from the table and looked at the screen. "Excuse me for a minute," she said. "I need to call someone, and I want to go to the rest room. I'll be right back. Maybe I'll have some news."