Watching his face as it turned purple, she kept the pressure on. She was glad he was unconscious; he didn't struggle. When she was sure he was dead, she stood, pulling his inert body, draping first one arm and then the other over the side of the boat.
She paused and looked around for an anchor, flexing her hands. The twine had cut deep furrows in her soft flesh, but it couldn't be helped now. She spotted the anchor under a pile of netting and pulled it free.
Taking a sheath knife from the dead man's belt, she cut the anchor line, leaving a few feet attached to the anchor. She tied the end of the line that was still attached to the anchor to his ankle and dropped the anchor into the water.
She took a moment to search his pockets, retrieving the money she had paid him. Then she rolled his body over the side. She watched as the weight of the anchor dragged it slowly down through the clear, blue-tinted water.
As she was starting the engines to resume her eastward course, she saw the helicopter. She watched until it altered its course to approach the boat. Once it came close enough for her to be sure it was Guillermo's, she turned off the engines and stood up, waving.
The helicopter approached within a few yards, hovering about ten meters above the waves. Just when she began to wonder how she would get into it, the door slid back and Guillermo waved to her. He deployed a rope ladder and motioned for her to wait as he spoke into what she thought must be an intercom headset.
The ladder touched the surface of the water, and the helicopter dragged it ever closer to her, until she was able to grab one of the rungs. The boat slid down a swell, dropping from beneath her, wrenching the ladder from her hand. Guillermo motioned for her to jump and use both hands, as the helicopter brought it into reach again.
Less than a minute later, she was in one of the helicopter's seats. Guillermo pulled the ladder in and closed the door. He took off the headset and sat down next to her, wrapping her in his arms as the helicopter accelerated and gained altitude.
25
"The taxi took her to Marigot," Marie said. She was sitting at the table on Phillip's veranda, sipping iced tea with the rest of the group. "That is only about one and a half kilometers north of the restaurant. The driver said she wanted to rent a boat to take her out to make photographs of Martinique from the sea. He helped her find a boat; one of the local fishermen was happy enough to take her out. The boat has not come back in. We are searching with one of the helicopters, but so far, no luck."
"She could be anywhere, then," Connie said. "Did the driver know the fisherman?"
"No, not at all. He said the boat was yellow with red trim, and it had two outboards. There is nothing to distinguish it. We have people waiting to talk to the other fishermen as they come in, but these men, they may stay at sea for days, you know. As you say, she could be anywhere. She has been gone more than two hours, now."
"If she used the boat, she could have covered 50 miles or more. Or she could have put in anywhere along the coast, just about, and gotten another taxi," Phillip said.
"Or if Scarface is still on a yacht in these waters, he could have picked her up," Connie said. "Or she could be headed for St. Lucia. If she wants to go back to Miami and resume being Graciella Montalba, that's the closest place with good airline connections to Miami."
Marie's cellphone rang. She glanced at the display and said, "Excuse me, please." She stood and walked into the house, the phone held to her ear.
"She would not do that, I think," Sandrine said, following up on Connie's comment about Graciella going to Miami. "Because we know she is Graciella Montalba."
"She may not know we discovered who she is," Paul said.
"Why would she have skipped out, then?" Connie asked.
"There could be a number of reasons why she might have run," Paul said. "We have to cover all the possibilities. It's simple enough to arrange a watch for her under either name with DHS in the States. I'll ask Luke to do it. Can you do that with customs and immigration on the other islands, Sandrine?"
"Yes, of course."
Marie came back. She sat down and took a sip of her tea. "That was Clarence. They found the boat. It is adrift, about 20 kilometers east of Marigot. There is no one aboard. From what the men in our helicopter could see, everything looks normal, but they will send a boat for a closer look."
"No sign of the fisherman?" Paul asked.
"No," Marie said. "They have flown a search pattern centered on the boat, in case he was thrown overboard, but they've found nothing. They have notified search and rescue, but we think there is not much hope. Probably he is dead, so there would be no witness to her escape."
"Did she know where you were going to stop?" Connie asked.
"No. I had no plan to stop, until I saw the restaurant and realized it would be a good time and place for lunch," Marie said. "And if you are thinking she somehow arranged this, for someone to meet her, I am sure she did not. She didn't know what route I was planning to take when I picked her up this morning, and she didn't use her cellphone until she got the text at the restaurant."
"You know what I'm thinking, don't you?" Connie asked. "She must have arranged for a pickup after she left you."
"Yes. I believe so. From the time she left the restaurant until she got to Marigot would have been maybe ten or fifteen minutes. For the boat to go that far out into the ocean, maybe another fifteen or twenty minutes. Add a few minutes for the negotiation with the fisherman, and you still have less than an hour for someone to meet her and pick her up from the boat. And then our people found it empty about two hours after she left the restaurant."
"That's it," Connie said. "That's what I was working out."
"I agree with all that," Paul said. "So someone had at most two hours to get to the pickup point."
"Less, I think," Marie said. "Our helicopter has been searching the area off Marigot since about one hour and fifteen minutes after she left. They would have been at an altitude where they would have spotted activity in the search area. It took them longer to find the boat because it was drifting, not leaving a wake. So I think she was picked up almost immediately when the boat reached the area where it was found."
"I only see one way that could have happened," Phillip said.
"Helicopter?" Paul asked.
"Right," Phillip said.
"I agree with this," Marie said. "There was no time for a pickup by another boat. So unless you think she was most lucky with the location, it had to be a helicopter."
"Is there a way to find out how many helicopters were aloft during the time the pickup happened?" Paul asked.
"Already, I have asked Clarence this. The answer is no, because it could have come from anywhere within a radius of maybe 250 kilometers," Marie said.
"Even from a big motor yacht," Connie said. "And I'll bet it's the same one Scarface was using for a base when he met Griffin. He's probably still in the area. Can we find out if there are any vessels large enough to carry a helicopter within 250 kilometers of where the boat was found?"
"This is too big an area for us to search with one of Clarence's helicopters," Marie said.
"I'll call Luke," Paul said. "This is one where the DEA or DHS might be able to help, if they've had any recent flyovers."
"Do we know how long ago Griffin met Scarface?" Connie asked.
"A week, perhaps, at most, from what our people learned from Caruthers," Marie said. "Griffin went to Miami four or five days ago, and Caruthers said it was not long after their meeting with Scarface. He was uncertain of the days. The drugs he was given have that effect."
"Okay," Paul said. "That narrows the scope a bit. Let's see what they can find."
"What did Luke say?" Phillip asked, as Paul rejoined the group.
"He'll make the request, but he said not to hold our breath waiting for results. There's a large element of chance in that kind of search. There are several different sources of imagery — satellites, aircraft, maybe drones — so it takes a while to work through the system. He's chec
king to see if there's any Coast Guard activity in the area, too."
"What about Sharktooth and those trackers his cousins had," Connie asked. "How long ago were they snatched?"
"Last night sometime," Phillip said. "But remember, he said the tracking devices would have to be manually activated, so it's not under his control. Let's call him and see if he has any other ideas, though."
Phillip called Sharktooth's satellite phone.
"Hey, Phillip," the big man's voice boomed from the speaker.
Phillip gave him a quick summary of what had happened since they last spoke. "We wondered if you had any thoughts. Are we missing something?"
"I don' t'ink so. But I was 'bout to call you anyhow. I followed the car after the two men took the boys. They went to Opa Locka and got on a big twin engine plane. I talked to the lady at the F.B.O. The plane filed a flight plan for San Juan; it goes there often. So I thought mebbe I should follow."
"You're in San Juan?" Phillip asked.
"Not now. In Culebra. I trace them here. The men brought the boys here early this morning. They been waiting' for somethin'. They in a fenced compound, lef' from when the Navy was here. Pretty big place; got a hangar and a helipad. Tiberius an' Lucilius, they don' turn on the tracker yet, so they t'ink they still in transit. That's what we agree on. Too dangerous to keep the trackers goin' all the time; bad people might notice."
"Have you seen them? Are they okay?" Connie asked.
Laughter rumbled from the phone's speaker. "Mm-hmm. Those boys carrying' on wit' the two men like they bes' frien's. Never met a stranger, Tiberius and Lucilius. They prob'ly drinking' beer an' playing' cards by now. I t'ink these two men, they don' know what to make of the boys. They bust in the house in Miami wit' they guns ready, an' a few minutes later, they come out all friendly like wit' the boys an' get in the car. My bet, Tiberius and Lucilius prob'ly letting' those po' fools win some money, keep 'em distracted."
"Phillip said you thought the two men might be working for SpecCorp," Connie said.
"Well, they got that look," Sharktooth said. "I don' know 'bout SpecCorp for sure, but they been in the military somewhere. Hold on … somethin' happenin'."
A little over a minute later, Sharktooth said, "They gettin' in a helicopter; jus' rolled it out of the hangar. Pilot's warming it up. It's got U.S. Coast Guard markings, but this isn't a Coast Guard facility, an' that pilot, he's no Coast Guard mon. Look like some drummer from a rock band to me. They leavin', now. Headin' south, I t'ink."
"Do you have a way to follow?" Phillip asked.
"No, but I t'ink they goin' to our neighborhood now. Prob'ly fixin' to meet up wit' yo' scar-faced mon on that yacht you looking' fo'. I got a fast plane standin' by. T'ink I have him fly me down to join you. The boys, they prob'ly gon' turn on a tracker when they get where they goin', then we do some business."
"When do you think you will arrive?" Sandrine asked. "I will make the arrangements with customs and immigration to expedite your entry."
"'Bout one hour, mebbe hour an' a half, into FDF."
"I will arrange a helicopter to bring you here from the airport," Marie said.
"Ver' good. Thank you. Mus' go now."
Settled in the helicopter, Graciella slipped on the intercom headset that Guillermo handed her. "What happened?" she asked. "Why the panic call?"
"Barrera is working for the DEA."
Graciella's face lost color. "What? Why do you think that, all of a sudden?"
Guillermo told her about his last conversation with Delaney.
"Do you think he's right?" she asked. "I thought you didn't think much of him and his company."
"His intelligence gathering has been solid. They just can't cope with our kind of conflicts. I guess their military background doesn't prepare them for the tactics that are required in our business. They came up short every time they tangled with Barrera's people, or Berger's. Whoever's running that cartel."
"Cartel?" Graciella asked. "I thought you said they were DEA."
"I don't know about Berger. The word Delaney's people got from the Miami Police Department was that Barrera was working under deep cover for the DEA."
"She can't be doing both, can she?"
"She wouldn't be the first," Guillermo said. "What's she like?"
"Smooth," Graciella said. "She's striking, too. Beautiful, and I suspect ruthless. I can't imagine her ever losing control."
"She's Mexican?"
Graciella shook her head. "American. Very much so. She has Mexican ancestry, but she grew up in California. Why?"
He shook his head. "I'm still trying to understand what we're up against here."
"If she's DEA, what's to understand?"
"I don't know. It's a conditioned response. You know me."
She studied him for a moment, her brow wrinkled just the least bit. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Me?" he asked, his brows rising as he looked over at her. "Of course I'm okay. Why do you ask?"
"You seemed shaken when we spoke on the phone."
"I was worried about you. I didn't like it that they had run your finger prints and knew who you were."
"Are you sure about that?" she asked. "That they knew who I am?"
"Yes. Not only that, but they know about me."
"But we knew that, from that man who wrecked my place. Did you find him?"
"Yes. I had SpecCorp kidnap him and his brother. They're on their way here as we speak."
"From Miami?"
"SpecCorp captured them in Miami. They took them to Puerto Rico while Delaney and I worked out a way to transfer them."
"Why was that a problem?"
He gave her a hard look. "I didn't want Delaney to know where we are. He's going to drop them on an uninhabited island and I'll send a boat to pick them up."
"You're going to bring them aboard Janus?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"They'll know where we are," she said.
He pulled his face into what passed for a smile. "For a little while. But they won't get a chance to tell anybody."
"Why are you doing that, taking that risk?"
"They know about us," he said. "I want to ask how they found out."
"What about Jill and Derek?" she asked. "Couldn't they have questioned them without bringing them to us?"
"Jill and Derek are otherwise occupied right now. I didn't want to take them away from what they're doing."
"Where are they?" she asked.
"They're taking a little break on a charter yacht," he said. "Babysitting Dani Berger."
"Are they going to kill her?"
"I haven't decided. For now, they're acting like charter guests. My original thought was that we could use her for a hostage during the negotiations."
"But there aren't going to be any negotiations," she said. "So what now?"
"I want some time to think," he said. "Barrera's working with the DEA, but nobody said anything about J.-P. Berger."
"Oh, get serious, Guillermo. She's deep into his organization; she's tight with all those people. If she's a narc, he has to be, as well."
"Don't be too sure of that, Gracie. She's taken down several big-shots by running the same scam. There's no reason to think he's not her next target."
"But I thought you believed we were her next target, as you put it."
"She was working with Berger first. We may just have crossed her path at an opportune time. Maybe she thought she'd trap us both."
She shook her head. "I don't like it. I've been inside their tent, so to speak. Guillermo, trust me; she's not playing Berger. And even if she is, how could we work around her to get to him?"
"I don't know yet. I told you, I want to pull back and give myself time to think. We'll question those two Rastas and see what they know about Berger and Barrera. And we can take Berger's daughter on a moment's notice, if we need to. All it would take is a phone call, and we'd have her. Then we could talk to Berger without Barrera in the way. He might even appreciate knowing Barre
ra's trying to set him up."
She shook her head. "Like we don't have enough trouble."
"What?" he asked. "What are you worrying about now?"
"O'Toole. What are we going to do about him? If the cops know about us, it won't be long until O'Toole finds out."
"Maybe. But there's not much he can do about it. We own him."
"Not once he finds out about you. He'll have no option but to turn on us."
"He's got more problems than that. The cops know that he and his friend the crooked lawyer killed Dick Kilgore and Art Jansen."
"How?" she asked. "How could they know that?"
"I don't know, Gracie. We've got some work to do over the next day or two. We'll figure out something; don't worry."
He took her hand and squeezed it, giving her his crooked smile, and pointed out the window at their yacht, Janus. "Welcome home, my dear. I've missed you," he said, as the pilot lined up on the helipad and began to lose altitude.
26
"Any news from your end since we spoke last?"
Luke Pantene's voice came from the speakerphone on the table. The group had been quiet until the phone rang; everyone was lost in thought.
"No," Paul said. "Nothing too exciting, anyway. How about there?"
"Nothing good. I struck out on the Coast Guard. They've got a medium endurance cutter down off the coast of Venezuela; nothing close to you. There's always the possibility of a big chopper from Puerto Rico, but that probably doesn't help much."
"Too early to say," Paul said. "That might work out. What about the satellite surveillance?"
"No joy there. All that's focused on whatever they're doing down south. They're supporting that cutter. Sorry to tell you that."
"Okay," Paul said. "Well, thanks for trying."
"Guess that leaves you without a way to find the Montalbas, huh?" Luke asked.
"We may have a way, yet," Connie said. "Sharktooth's on his way here."
"I thought he was in Miami, keeping an eye on his cousins."
"We did, too," Paul said. "We hadn't heard anything for a while, so we called him. Turned out he'd tailed them to Puerto Rico."
An Easy Sail_A Connie Barrera Thriller_The 8th Novel in the Series_Mystery and Adventure in Florida and the Caribbean Page 20