by Mac Fortner
“Do you know what it is that he does?” Amar asked.
“Basically. He sells boats for people who are losing them anyway. Splits the insurance money with them and then sells the boats and keeps that money too.”
Amar laughed. “Oh, Jenny, you are either very naive, or you are a liar.”
Jenny knew there was more to it than that but didn’t know how much Amar knew.
“Has he had you take anyone for a boat ride yet?”
She still didn’t want to tip her hand.
“How do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. A one way trip for a man who doesn’t really want to give up his boat,” Amar said, staring into Jenny’s eyes for any tell-tell sign.
“So?”
Amar laughed again.
“Jenny, you are very interesting. Juba is my partner. I don’t need to know all of the details, as long as I get my money and supplies. You, my lady, may prove to be a real asset to our cause.”
“Perhaps,” Jenny said and tipped her beer. “But if I’m going to be helpful, I need to know what our cause is.”
“In good time, Jenny. In good time.”
Amar rose and reached for Jenny’s hand. She gave it to him, and he pulled her up.
“Now, my Jenny, I have some details to attend to. I hope we meet again soon,” and he kissed her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Amar. We will meet again soon, I’m sure.”
~*~
“There she is,” I said.
We watched Jenny step from the boat and walk to the Baha and step back on it.
The fifty-two-foot Tiger Marine Express that she had been on started its engines and slowly backed out of the Marina.
“What do make of that?” Diane said. “Do you think she’s looking at that boat to buy?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll try to find out tonight.”
Chapter 32
Halfway home, I felt my cell phone ringing in my pocket. I stopped my bike on the side of the road and checked it. It was Susan Crane.
“Hello,” I said.
“Mr. Derringer, this is Susan Crane. Are you busy? I can call back.”
“No, it's fine. How may I help you?”
“I heard from Bill. Thank God he is alright.”
“Did he say where he’s been?”
“Yes. It’s embarrassing to tell you this, but it seems he has a girlfriend. He says he is sorry and knows he has made a mistake and wants to come back.”
“Well, that is your decision to make. I’m afraid I can’t help you there,” I said, knowing she was lying to me.
“I’m sorry for sending you on a wild goose chase. Please send me a bill for your time, and I will be glad to pay it.”
“What about the attack on you and the stolen files?” I asked.
“Bill sent that man to get the files from me. He needed them. The man wasn’t supposed to hurt me. He was supposed to get them when I wasn’t home.”
“Okay, Susan, you give this some thought, though. Be careful.”
“I will. Thanks again for your help.”
“You’re quite welcome. Goodbye, Susan.”
“Goodbye, Cam.”
I stood there by my bike, trying to figure out if Bill really did contact her or not. If he did, maybe he’d taken care of his problem. Whoever he was hiding from must have made a deal of some kind, or Bill was dead. I didn’t really think Susan was the type of wife to have the wool pulled over her eyes quite so easily. Whatever their part was in this boat jacking, they were in it together.
I got back on my bike, and a horn went off right behind me. I jumped.
“Hey, Cam,” I heard Jenny yell.
I turned and saw her right behind me.
“You just scared a couple of years out of my life,” I said.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you standing here and thought you might be having a problem.”
“No. Just stopped for a phone call. Where ya headed?”
“I was heading home to get ready for my big date. You only have an hour you know.”
“Yes, I got a little tied up on some business. Where have you been?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t coming off as nosy.
“Had to go to the store to get a few hors d’oeuvres for tonight. After last night, I thought we might need some nourishment.”
“Good idea; and maybe we should close the window so we don’t lose any clothes.”
We both laughed again.
“Okay, I’ll see you in an hour,” I said.
“Bye,’ she said and drove away.
Chapter 33
John Trapper knocked on the door of the Peterson’s summer cottage. It was a very nicely kept-up stilt home on the water.
Bill Crane answered the door in swimming trunks and a surfer t-shirt. He was holding a mixed drink in one hand and a nine-millimeter Beretta in the other.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said.
“Who were you expecting; the FBI?” John said, slightly sidestepping so the barrel wasn’t aimed at him.
“You never know. Anyway, it isn’t loaded. I was just cleaning it,” he said, turning the gun so John could see the magazine wasn’t in. “Come on in.”
John followed Bill through the house. The living room was very expensively done for a winter home. It had many extensive upgrades and a well-stocked bar along one wall.
Bill led him through the living room and onto the rear deck by way of a twelve-foot sliding door. The deck offered a fantastic view of the gulf.
“Have a seat,” Bill said, motioning at a chair. “Want a drink?”
“No thanks. Just stopped by to see how things were.”
“Really? A phone call wouldn’t have done? What do you want, John?”
“I want to talk, privately, just us.”
“Okay, talk.”
“Just between us?”
Bill stared at John for a few seconds. Whatever he was about to say could be very dangerous for both of them.
“I won’t say anything to anyone, but we have to agree on what we discuss. There is a lot at stake,” Bill said, still absentmindedly cleaning his gun.
“I know, but it is important.”
“Okay,” Bill said, “talk.”
“I have come upon some information that I find, let’s say, very disturbing.”
“What is it?” Bill said, now sliding to the edge of his chair.
“It’s Juba. He’s working with the al-Qaeda. The money we’re making from the boats is going to a man named Amar. He is using the money to finance weapons, and I think, ultimately, a weapon of mass destruction, to be used here in the United States.”
“How did you get information like that?”
“I followed Juba yesterday. He met with Amar Mustafa on his boat. I contacted a friend in the FBI and asked if he had any information on an Amar Mustafa. He didn’t want to tell me. He said there was an ongoing investigation. Finally, he told me just enough for me to figure it out. He wanted to know why I was interested. I told him I would have to get back to him.”
“So, have you?”
“No. I wanted to talk to you first. We didn’t sign up for anything like this.”
Bill thought for a minute. “Do you really believe Juba would be aiding the al Qaeda after what he’s been through?”
“I didn’t think so at first, but after some thought, it makes sense.”
Bill picked up the barrel of his nine-millimeter and slid it back into place. “I don’t think so. He’s a strong man. I just can’t believe it.”
“Well, I do,” John said. “I think I can work with my friend and keep you and me out of it if I prove to them that Juba is threatening our country.”
Bill picked up his cloth, wiped the gun down and inspected the chamber. He slid the magazine in and worked the slide. “How are you going to prove that without getting yourself killed in the process?”
“I’ll wear a wire. Maybe a small camera. I don’t know, but I do know it’s something that needs to
be done.”
Bill screwed a silencer onto the barrel of the gun. “You would really jeopardize all the money we have made, and take a chance of going to prison for all the lives that have been lost?”
“I don’t think you, and I will go down for it if we help them.”
Bill thought about it for a moment. This guy was a loose cannon.
Bill pointed the gun at Johns' head and pulled the trigger.
John stared blankly at Bill in disbelief and then fell forward, his head hitting the table.
Bill set John back up and balanced him in his seat. He knew he couldn’t move John by himself. The man had to weigh three hundred pounds. He called Juba.
Chapter 34
I knocked on Jenny’s door at seven o’clock.
She answered, dressed in an oversized tie-dyed t-shirt, and as far as I could tell, nothing else.
“You look lovely as always,” I said.
“As do you,” she said, kissing me softly and pulling me through the door.
She had the table set with a tray of cheese and bread. A bottle of wine was already opened and breathing next to the tray.
“Wine?” she asked.
“Of course.”
She poured us each a glass, handed them both to me and picked up the tray.
“How about the back porch?” she said.
“Sounds good to me. It’s a beautiful night.”
We walked through the house to the back porch. The screen door pushed out, so I was able to use my hip and open the door for her.
A glass table sat in the center of the porch, surrounded by four cushioned chairs.
I set the wine on the table, took the tray from her and set it down.
The backyard was very private, bordered by a wide variety of Cooper plants, Snow On The Mountain, Crotons, and Oleanders which are poisonous but pretty. Just like Jenny, I thought. In the center of the yard was a beautiful large Banyan tree. A water feature was trickling on the corner of the porch, drowning out any traffic or other outside noise.
“Beautiful,” I said.
“Yes, it is. This is what sold me on the house,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.
I picked up my wine glass and held it out. She raised her glass, and we clicked them in a toast. “To all of the beauty that surrounds me,” I said, and we drank.
I took a piece of cheese, put it on a little square of bread and popped it in my mouth.
“Reblochon,” I said.
“Very good,” she said, smiling. “It’s one of my favorites, from the Alps. I couldn’t believe it when I found it today.”
“Benzzies?” I said.
“Yes, they have a lot of different finger foods. I’m going to have to go back when I have more time.”
We drank our wine and ate some more cheese and bread.
“I’m glad we’re both eating the cheese. It is quite strong,” she said.
“I’m only eating it in self-defense. I want to be able to kiss you later.”
We laughed and looked out into the yard. Birds were busy doing whatever it was they did, one of them singing to his mate or perspective mate somewhere. A rooster then stuck his head through the bushes and looked around. When he thought the coast was clear, he entered the yard and let out a big “Cock-A-Doodle-Dooooo.”
“That’s a little rude when we’re sitting here enjoying the serenity,” Jenny said.
“Yeah, sometimes it is but they are sacred here; to some people anyway. Others would like to round them all up and have a big chicken fry.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“Naw, I buy my chicken already fried.”
“Yeah, I guess they’re not so bad.”
We sat in silence for a while, sipping wine and nibbling on cheese. I was wondering what Jenny was doing on that boat today and how I was going to find out.
“I guess I’ll be leaving tomorrow. I have a flight at one-thirty,” I said, breaking the silence.
“Would you like for me to take you to the airport?”
“That won’t be necessary. Diane is taking me. Which reminds me; she said she saw you on the docks earlier this evening,” I said, sliding the fact in.
Jenny stared at me for a few seconds. I could tell she was caught off-guard, trying to decide what to say.
“Yes, I went to look at a boat a friend told me about. No luck, though. Not what I was looking for.”
“Well, you’ll find one. How about the one your agent is negotiating?”
“No word yet,” she said and changed the subject.
“If it’s your last night, we shouldn’t eat and drink all our time away,” she said, standing and pulling the t-shirt off over her head.
I was right. Nothing else.
I looked around.
“It’s completely private here,” she said.
I removed my clothes.
Chapter 35
The next morning, I busied myself packing my bags and making last minute arrangements. Stacy and Barbie were going to keep an eye on my houseboat. Diane would also stop by and check on it.
I had reservations about leaving. It seemed I’d learned more on the boat jacking case in the last month than in the last five years.
Jack was still missing, although I really didn’t expect ever to see him again, I would have loved to find the man who’d killed him, though.
Then there was Jenny. I loved spending time with her, but I couldn’t help but think she was involved in all of this in some way.
The Cranes, they were a real mystery. I knew Bill was involved in the boat-insurance scam. Susan, I wasn’t sure of, but I thought she knew a lot more than she put on.
John Trapper was hiding something also.
How big was this thing? Who were the Iraqi men and how did they figure in all of this?
I was writing all of these questions down when I heard Sheriff Buck call my name.
I walked out to the patio and saw him standing on the dock.
“Willie, what brings you down here again? Did you find my twenty bucks?”
“No, we have an all-points bulletin out on that one still,” he said, sarcastically.
“I hear you’re leaving us,” he said.
“How did you hear that?”
“Good news travels fast.”
“Well, you heard right. I’m going to New York. I was going to call you today and tell you so you could check on my boat once in a while.”
“I’ll be glad to. How long will you be gone?”
“Probably no more than a month the first trip, but if things work out, it could be at least a year.”
“Well, good luck. I hope things go well for you.”
“Thanks.”
I stared at him for a moment. “Well?” I said.
“Well, what?”
“Why did you really come down here?”
He looked at me innocently then gave in.
“The files. I would still like to see your files on the boat jacking cases.”
“I told you, they’re gone,” I said, raising my hands and holding them out.
“I know you told me that, but I would still like to see them. I need all the help I can get on the case. I keep running into dead ends.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe I’d been trying to do too much on my own. He might see something I’d overlooked.
“I tell you what,” I said. “I’ll trade you. Mine for yours.”
“Deal,” he said. “If we work together, we find them, and we might find out what happened to Malinda.”
“I’ll have them here at nine-thirty,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll be back with mine. Thanks, Cam. Maybe we can get something done now.”
“I hope so.”
I called Diane and told her to bring the files when she came to pick me up.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” she said. “He could blow everything you’ve been working on.”
“It can’t get much worse. Besides, I’m going to be gone. Nothing would
be getting done.”
“Okay, I’ll see you around nine.”
Chapter 36
Billie Daryl pushed the body over the side of the boat. “So long, fatso,” he said.
“How many bodies are down there now?” Crane asked.
“Lots, maybe fifteen,” Billie Daryl said.
“Shit. Who would have thought it would get to this point?”
“Yeah, I’m sure the sharks have eaten most of them by now. I know I wouldn’t want to go down there.”
“How you going to explain John missing?”
“I’m not. No one knows he was with me.”
Billie Daryl looked over the edge of the boat and said, “I wonder if Ronnie is still down there. Juba said that bitch shot him and threw him in, like garbage.”
“Don’t you think he had it coming?” Crane said.
“No! No one deserves that for just trying to get a little pussy.”
The FBI boat, sitting anchored three miles away, watched Billie Daryl start the boat and turn back for Key West.
“There goes another one overboard,” Agent Wootton said, lowering his binoculars. “Let’s go get him.”
“Can’t we bust these guys, Sir?” Sargent Biggs asked.
“We will, but we have bigger fish to fry first. Our nation’s security is more important than a bunch of hoods killing each other.”
Chapter 37
Diane arrived at nine with the files. I looked them over and removed a few items I didn’t want Buck to see. I added some notes I had made regarding Jack and the Iraqi men. I ran a copy of everything and tucked mine away in my suitcase.
“I’m going to miss you, Diane,” I said.
“I’m going to see you next week when I come help you fix up your new place.”
“I know, but it will only be for a short time. Just knowing you’ll be leaving again makes me miss you.”
“Can’t get along without me, can you?”