The Turquoise Shroud: A Seth Halliday Novel

by Bobby Underwood

  I handed it to Katarina, and asked her to read it aloud. She did. It was surreal, sitting on the bed with Caroline's arm around my waist, listening to Katarina read the words. Almost as if Delana was speaking them. When Katarina finished, silence filled the room.

  Harry spoke first. "She didn't know, Seth. It'll eat her up, now she knows." Harry had been Nancy's biggest fan. It was his way of saying he didn't blame Delana for her death. Maybe he was talking about more than just Delana. No one knows more about regret than an old drunk, and no old drunk knew more about living with it than Harry.

  I asked Katrina if she could drive me to the airport to pick up the Jag.

  "Certainly. Would you like me to remain and offer assistance? I'm quite handy with firearms and a few other deadly instruments." I had no doubt she was speaking the truth. "Did Vlad tell you to?"

  "He left it at my discretion."

  "I sure could use you to help Sonny and Harry guard Caroline, if that's okay?" She nodded.

  "We can't do it here, man," offered Sonny. "It isn't safe now. Delana gave us the head's-up. She's gonna set them up and we're the bait. We need a safe-house somewhere on the island."

  "Do you have a phone, Katarina?"

  She smiled. "Certainly." Vlad had no doubt told her I didn't carry a cell, which was why the message had to be personally delivered. It didn't get much more personal than Katarina.

  She handed her phone to me. It was pink, which seemed fitting for a late-60's sex kitten.

  I took Florencia's card from my wallet and called her while we waited for Katarina to bicycle back to her vehicle and return. Florencia picked up on the third ring.

  "Hello?" Her voice sounded sleepy.

  "Flo, how are things in Uruguay?"

  "Good grief, Seth. Do you know what time it is here?" If I remembered correctly, it was a couple of hours later in Uruguay than in Mexico.

  "I'm sorry, Florencia, I hope I didn't wake your husband as well?"

  I heard a male voice ask who it was and Florencia's reply that it was Seth, whom she had told him about earlier. "Seth, hold on a minute while I switch to a phone in a different part of the house. My husband has a very early meeting and needs his beauty rest."

  I heard laughter then, as if he'd grabbed her to make her pay for her insubordination, then I was placed on hold. Thirty-seconds later, she was back.

  "Okay. We can talk now. What's happened?"

  I laid it all out for her, everything. Then I told her why I had called.

  "I need to use your house in Cozumel to stash Caroline while I go looking for the people who are looking for her. Three people will be with her, guarding her. I think it will be safe, but if a run is made at her there, your house could get messy."

  Her response was immediate. "It is only a house. By all means, if you think she will be safer there, take her there. There are can goods, dry goods we keep stocked year-round, but no fresh foods."

  "With any luck, they won't be there long enough to worry about that. This is coming to a head quickly."

  "The spare house key is underneath the left front fender of the Jaguar. We only use the car when in Cozumel so it seemed better than leaving it under the doormat."

  "Thanks. I'm sorry to wake you, but felt you needed to know what's going on."

  "I will inform Mr. Fernandez, as well. I know he will be interested. Let me know of any further developments, please. And Seth? Be careful. You and your friends."

  I promised we would and hung up just as we heard the honk of a horn. Katarina was ready. I hoped I was.

  Twenty-One

  Caroline glued herself to me in the back seat of Katarina's Chevy Tahoe. Harry sat with us in the back while Sonny had been invited by Katarina to ride shotgun. I noticed he hadn't exactly tried to squirm out of the offer.

  In the early morning hours of darkness Cozumel felt more ominous, and less like paradise. Caroline asked me, "What will you do while everyone's watching me?" I knew she felt guilty I was going it alone.

  "I'm going to find Sanchez and then we'll try to head off Delana."

  "Why?" came a chorus of dismay from all quarters. I didn't get a chance to respond. Katarina answered for me, though not quite the way I would have liked. She began by laughing. Never a good sign when a woman is explaining the actions of the male species.

  "Because he wants to save Delana from herself, if he can. Vlad was right, you are a romantic at heart."

  "It's still the smart move," I responded. I could feel Caroline hanging on my every word.

  "What makes you think Sanchez will help you find his partner?" asked Caroline in a doubtful tone.

  "The leverage he has," Sonny answered for me. Caroline had been looking at Marquez's flowers during that part of the conversation and I hadn't told her about asking Marquez to hold off.

  "Sanchez isn't aware that Marquez knows about his deal with Carlos. That two million showed up a little too quickly, even for a guy like Vargas. Probably means it was already here, in Cozumel. Marquez guessed right, I believe. Vargas is running hardware or laundering money through Cozumel. My knowledge that Sanchez is taking his money as well as Marquez's is deadly. I'll offer him an out."

  "By helping you, tonight." It wasn't a question. Caroline was concentrating, trying to file it away somewhere in a safe room where it wouldn't get lost. It wasn't the kind of thing you wrote down.

  "And you want to keep Delana from getting killed," Caroline murmured.

  "She's been the wild card all along. A victim, just like Nancy."

  "Once, perhaps," said Katarina, just a little too skeptically.

  "What do you mean?" asked Caroline.

  "I've no doubt she's suffered a terrible loss, but when she blew up Vargas's boat, how did she know your boat wouldn't be there?" Katarina was right, of course. It was the same conclusion I'd come to when I read the letter.

  "Did you tell her you were going fishing, Harry?" I asked. I hadn't wanted to, because I knew the answer.

  He squinted, thinking about it. "Dagnabit, Seth," he almost whispered. "I didn't decide to take Stella out until after you'd both gone."

  Harry could have been injured and possibly killed if Stella had been moored next to Delana's boat -- Vargas's boat -- when it exploded. Harry added, "She didn't know us then, Seth."

  Harry liked Delana and wanted to throw her a lifeline, despite what might have happened to him. His mercy had nothing to do with the hooker. I knew how soft-hearted Harry was. I was admittedly full of these same contradictions, but Harry made me look like an ogre at times.

  Not having spent any time with Delana, Katarina was more objective, and much less sentimental. "Don't kid yourselves, she is…was, a mother. She has one single objective now, and it's all she lives for. Anyone who stands in her way of achieving that goal is expendable. Look at the calculated risk she took. She says she blew up Vargas's boat because she knew you'd offer her sanctuary on yours? Yet how could she know yours wouldn't be damaged in the explosion? She's trying to kid you, and maybe herself as well. You don't seriously think your being with her that day was an accident, do you, Seth? It was a win-win for her objective. If the boat survived, you'd offer her shelter and she could track Vargas through you. If it was damaged or destroyed, Harry injured or killed, that left just you and her, survivors linked by a tragedy, comforting each other in some San Miguel hotel room, closer than two peas in a pod. The same outcome, a different route. ALL that matters is killing Vargas. Don't forget that Interpol agent. They aren't that easy to play, you know." I saw a sly smile in her reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Believe me, I know."

  We were all quiet after her little speech. I'd already considered everything she'd given voice to. Surprisingly, it was Sonny who said, "It's probably a little more complicated than that, Kat."

  Kat?

  Just as surprisingly, Katarina quickly softened. "It probably is, Sonny." I wondered when they'd become Kat and Sonny?

  Caroline squeezed my arm and I met her gaze. "I know you have to try
to save her, but if you can't, don't blame yourself, Seth, whatever happens. I want you coming back. I need you coming back."

  I softened quicker than Katarina, pulling Caroline to me and holding her cheek against mine. I released her and gave her a kiss. I suddenly didn't care about anyone else in the car or what they might think. I said, "I've never been as proud to be with anyone as I am with you, Caroline. I love you. That's why I'll always come back." Caroline smiled and the world changed for me, the way it always changed when she smiled.

  Harry and Sonny were busy looking out their respective windows into the darkness. Katarina pretended to be busy looking at road signs. She was so good at what she did -- whatever that was, exactly -- that I was 100% certain she could drive to the Cozumel Airport blindfolded.

  We were quiet the rest of the way. When we rolled up on the Jaguar, Caroline got out with me, to say goodbye. "You'll be safe at Florencia's home with everyone guarding you. It'll happen at the boat. That's why Delana warned me. To save you."

  "And make up for Harry?"

  "No, to try to make up for Nancy. The hooker was her way of making it up to Harry. Katarina's right, Caroline. Delana didn't give Harry a second thought until it was too late. He didn't matter to her. It was pure luck that he wasn't hurt."

  Caroline looked very sad. She whispered. "This Vargas person caused all this. Killing his wives, and all those innocent people, twisting his daughter until she's worse than him. It's all so…horrible. For once I wish that I could forget, and just remember the parts of Cozumel that are wonderful. You, momma…"

  "Believe it or not, eventually it will only be the good parts you remember the most, when you remember."

  "Speaking from experience?"

  I nodded.

  "Liar. You'll always remember Nancy. And…" she concentrated. "Escobar."

  I put my arms around her neck. "I'm going to have so much Caroline in my life I won't have time to spend on regret."

  She kissed me and got quickly back into the Tahoe, misty-eyed. I watched it disappear into the island night, the taillights finally fading into total darkness.

  Twenty-Two

  I checked to make sure the Smith and Wesson was still in the glove box before I pointed the Jaguar toward the police station. On a small island filled with vacationers and college kids on break the roads are never quite deserted. A girl driving a white Land Rover pulled even with me and some boys who might never grow up to become men no matter how many years went by decided to moon me and holler obscenities as she hit the gas to blow by me. I wasn't in the mood. I floored it and kept pace, turning on the dome light so they could see me. I still had my old badge and flashed it out the window, waving for them to follow me.

  The look on the faces of the little shits was priceless, changing from carefree, intoxicated, party-loving smartasses to worried, intoxicated, party-loving smartasses in less time than it takes to say, Mexican jail. The girl behind the wheel looked scared and to her credit, she pulled in behind me and followed me all the way to the station. They remained in the Land Rover when we came to a stop, waiting for some cue from me. I held up my hand as a signal to wait and ducked my head inside the station door. A plump Mexican girl with a baby face looked down the short hallway at me.

  "Some kids drinking and driving are waiting out here to be tested. They were all over the road out there. One of them hung his ass out the window and when I flipped them off they chased me."

  She was already shaking her head and was up out of her chair -- no easy feat judging from the girth of her buttocks -- as soon as I'd got past the drinking and driving part. She met me at the door. Her name tag told me she was Cassandra. "It's always the college kids. Spoiled little gringo bastards." She caught herself, realizing I was also a gringo.

  I gave her my million dollar smile. "We feel the same way about them over there. If you could keep them for as many years as it takes for them to grow up it wouldn't break anyone's heart."

  She smiled, grateful a tourist hadn't been offended, and wouldn't be complaining. It was a pretty smile that made her massive caboose a little less noticeable. Well, not really, but let's just say the smile and a couple of other oversized portions of her offset it considerably.

  "Thanks. They'll run over somebody and kill them one of these days. Can't keep the little cabrõns long, but most of them are too stupid to figure that out. I don't know what they teach them in college over there, but it sure isn't street smarts."

  I nodded in total agreement, and didn't have to fake it. I couldn't figure out what they were teaching them either, other than how to party and be intolerable brats.

  "I'll lock the male turds into a cell someone puked in about an hour ago." She had a tone that said she'd done this a thousand times before. "It's pretty messy in there," she said, chuckling. "None of us been in any hurry to clean it up, it's so bad. We were considering drawing cards for it. I'll put the little-Miss Hot-Shits in a separate cell, next to Julio. Julio's a mean drunk. Worst on the island. We get him in at least two, three times a week. Loves the college girls and once in a while manages to get one drunk enough to do the monkey dance with him. They'd have to be. He ain't bad lookin' mind ya, but when he gets to drinkin' he gets creepy. Enough to make your girl radar go off. Got a nasty mind and an even nastier mouth. He ain't had time to sober up yet. Those girls will be hollerin' for their mommas in thirty minutes, promising to heaven they'll be good if we let them go."

  "And are they?"

  The look she gave me started us both laughing.

  She hollered for some help and hit the door. Two uniformed cops, one in his late twenties, the other an old geezer with a mustache, came through a doorway to my left. They saw me holding open the door and followed her outside. There appeared to be no one else manning the nightshift.

  I walked quickly over to her big desk and got incredibly lucky. She had a little card taped beside the phone with names and numbers of all the cops who worked there. I had the feeling she'd have given me Sanchez's number with a little sweet-talk anyway, but I'd wasted too much time already. I quickly jotted down Sanchez's number and Carillo's.

  Cassandra was leading the two girls in as I walked out. One of the knuckleheads must have pissed off the old geezer because he had him cuffed. The girls tried to give me a hateful look but it was too mixed with worry to be effective. I'm sure if they hadn't been distracted it would have thoroughly shamed me for being so mean to them. They were at that age and time in life when nothing had sagged or wrinkled yet, and every guy they knew was trying to get into their panties. It gave them a false sense of their desirability. They hadn't figured out yet that every other girl and woman had the same equipment they had, and a lot of them were much nicer. In contrast, those gals could talk and empathize and offer more than just a belly-shot and a place to put it for ten minutes or so. They could offer love and loyalty. Next to those girls and women, the party-hardy college girls couldn't measure up. They couldn't even get out of the starting gate.

  "They thought you were a cop for some reason," said Cassandra.

  "Like you said, they aren't exactly Jeopardy contestants. I just flipped them off," I lied.

  "Guess they're too wasted to know the difference between a finger and a badge at this point."

  Cassandra was taking too long and the girls were getting restless and bored. One was rolling her bloodshot eyes. Their attention span was more suited to Jerry Springer than Inspector Lynley.

  "I guess I better get on home, then. It was nice meeting you, Cassandra, even if it had to be like this."

  "Glad to help. I'm here every night if you need any more help. Or if you just get lonely." It's only flirting when you don't mean it. When you mean it, it's an invitation. I had the feeling she meant it.