Bluewater Bullion: The Seventh Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 7)

by Charles Dougherty

  Liz nodded. "Or he did pay Jackson, but for some reason, he doesn't want us to know. He doesn't owe us any money, does he?"

  "No," Dani said, looking up. "I'm sure Elaine said she collected our fee in advance, like always. I'll send her an email and verify that when we're done here."

  "Evasiveness may just be some kind of survival instinct for him," Liz said. "Maybe he was afraid we were going to try to squeeze more money out of him because of the trouble."

  ****

  Dix Beauregard had been enjoying a mid-morning cup of coffee at his desk when the call from Marc Jackson came in. Dix was having a second cup of coffee now, trying to make sense of Jackson's call. The man had clearly been agitated; at first Dix had misunderstood, thinking there was some problem with the payment.

  "I didn't actually handle the money," Dix had said. "That was a third party; I don't believe either of us was intended to know the particulars, but if there's a problem, I'm sure I can ... "

  "No, no. No problem with the money," Jackson had hastened to reassure him. "But before you called, I had made some other arrangements, and I wasn't able to change them in time."

  "I don't understand ... "

  "No, of course. But have you heard from Yates?" Jackson asked.

  "I'm not at liberty to discuss Mr. Yates's business with you, beyond arranging the payment on his behalf."

  "No, I get that. I just wondered if he mentioned my men calling on him in Antigua. There's some confusion."

  "I'm certainly confused, Mr. Jackson. I'm not sure how I can help you."

  "I see. Well, if you talk to Yates, just tell him I apologize for the misunderstanding, and find out if my, um ... local people have been in touch with him. Ask him to have them call me if they need clarification."

  "I don't expect to hear from Mr. Yates. But if he calls, I'll give him your message, Mr. Jackson."

  Jackson had mumbled something and hung up, leaving Dix to wonder what was going on. After going over their conversation in his mind several times to be sure he wasn't missing anything, Beauregard called Jones to set up a meeting. Uncharacteristically, Jones had declined to meet, offering to try to discuss the matter on the phone if Beauregard thought that was all right.

  Beauregard had agreed. With a lawyer's circumspection, he had told Jones that "the recipient of the loan repayment that we discussed yesterday," had called, and that as best Beauregard could tell, he had received his payment, but had previously made some arrangements for collection that he was so far unable to stop.

  "I see," Jones said. "My role was purely to facilitate the transfer of funds, Mr. Beauregard. Was there any indication of a problem with that?"

  "No. He received the payment okay; he just ... "

  "Then I don't believe I can be of further assistance to you in this matter." Jones had disconnected the call.

  ****

  Jones thought about Dix's call. He scrolled through a directory on his computer until he found the file he was seeking. He double-clicked it and leaned back in his chair as he listened to the recording of the conversation between Beauregard and Jackson. Beauregard's version was accurate as far as it went, but it failed to convey the agitation on Jackson's part.

  Jones contemplated what could have upset Jackson. He considered the obvious explanation that the two men working for Jackson had failed to report in. He knew now that these were the same men with whom Yates had met that night when he disappeared from the dinner table and left Thompson sitting there. He also had reviewed the police records of Rodriguez and Lee, and suspected they were in Antigua to keep an eye on Yates and probably to intimidate him as well.

  The size of Yates's gambling debt was extraordinary, at least for someone like Jackson. That must mean that Yates had a track record with him. If Jackson was holding that kind of paper on Yates, it was likely that Yates had told him about the gold. Otherwise, Jackson wouldn't have been waiting patiently. Even with the kind of interest that accrued on a loan like that, Jackson would have been too nervous to let it ride unless he had some assurance that Yates could make it good.

  The behavior of Rodriguez and Lee was confusing, as well. Why would they hijack the boat? And what had happened to them? His surveillance team had reported that the boat had come back after two hours with no sign of the two men. The two women had dropped off Yates and Thompson at their villa and proceeded to the mooring, where the two of them had spent the night aboard.

  Jones had been hoping that one of his people could board the boat and examine it if the women went ashore. As of an hour ago, they were still aboard, apparently doing some kind of maintenance work. Unless the women went ashore for lunch, his lead agent would adopt some disguise and question them. That was a less satisfactory way to proceed, but Jones sensed that time was critical.

  It was possible that the two men were still aboard the boat, or that they could have transferred to another vessel somewhere offshore. That still didn't explain the aggressive way they had boarded the boat. Given Lee's and Rodriguez's police records, it seemed the people on the boat would have been at their mercy. Yates and the two women surely couldn't have put up much of a fight, and even Thompson, with no weapons, wouldn't have stood much of a chance against them. That probably meant that the hijacking was faked to provide some kind of cover for whatever was really going on. There was nothing for him to do but wait until the women were questioned.

  Chapter 14

  Liz and Dani were lingering over the wine that Liz had served with their lunch. They were sitting at the cockpit table in the shade of their big awning, resting after their morning's work.

  "The dutchman looks good," Liz said, gazing at the repair. "Once the new teak weathers out, nobody will notice."

  Dani nodded, smiling. "I meant to search the origin of the term 'dutchman' while I was online. Help me remember; I've always wondered about that."

  "Did you email Elaine?"

  "Yes. While you were fixing lunch. I got an automated 'out of the office response.' It said she'd be back later this afternoon."

  "She'll think we're really paranoid," Liz said.

  "It's not paranoia if you've got reason to worry; I'd say Yates is acting a wee bit odd."

  "Yes, I guess so, especially since somebody besides the loan shark is watching him."

  "I'm still curious about this Muir woman he's been spending all his evenings with. She's a third coincidence, and I have trouble enough with two," Dani said. "I wish we could still call Paul Russo and get him to check her out."

  "We could call him. Connie's satellite phone's in our directory."

  "I don't want to bother them; they were pretty excited about that first charter," Dani said.

  "From what Phillip and Sharktooth said, that's not all they were ... "

  The chirping of their satellite phone from below deck interrupted Liz.

  "I'll get it." Dani stood up and went below. In a moment, she came back into the cockpit, the phone pressed to her ear. She listened, nodding, and then said, "Hang on, Elaine. Let me put you on the speaker. Liz is with me."

  "Hi, Liz." Elaine's voice echoed slightly.

  "Hi. We've got a wonky connection. How are you?"

  "Okay. Should I call back?"

  "No, that's all right. It's better now," Dani said. "You didn't need to call; I said in the email it wasn't urgent."

  "Email? I'm out of the office. I didn't know you sent me an email. What's up?"

  "Oh, this Yates character seems a little flaky. We just wanted to make sure he'd paid you," Liz said.

  "Up front, for the first month of the charter. I wired you the money, less my commission. Didn't you get it?"

  "I'm sure we did. We haven't checked the balance lately. What's on your mind, Elaine?"

  "Well, it's probably nothing, but I got a strange phone call late yesterday. After I thought it over, I decided I should let you know about it. It may relate to Yates, somehow, now that I think about it. Didn't he bring Nick Thompson along with him?"

  "Yes. You soun
d like you know Nick," Liz said.

  "Most of the single women around Fort Lauderdale know Nick, but that's another story."

  "So what about this phone call?" Dani asked.

  "Right. A woman called, posing as a potential client for Vengeance. I had already noticed that somebody up in Virginia spent a lot of time on the web page I host for you guys, and the call came from the 703 area code, so at first, I thought we had a live one."

  "It's spooky that you can know all that," Liz said.

  "Marketing intelligence in the 21st century. Anyway, this woman asked the normal kinds of questions at first, but then she steered the conversation around to Merrill Bond and Nick Thompson. That seemed a little close to home after I thought about it."

  "Merrill Bond?" Dani asked. "Isn't he that treasure hunter from South Florida that's always in the news?"

  "That's right," Elaine said.

  "Wait a minute," Liz said. "Nick told me he worked for a treasure hunter once. Was that Merrill Bond?"

  "You win the prize, Liz. I'm not sure what it means, but the more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Anyway, now you know. How's the charter going?"

  "Strangely," Dani said. "At first, we thought it was peculiar because they wanted to spend every night ashore. During the day, we're running search patterns using side-scan sonar and a magnetometer. I guess they're collating the data in the evenings."

  "They're looking for treasure?" Elaine asked. "Odd choice of vessels for that."

  "No kidding. Yates claims he's looking for the wreck of a schooner that belonged to his family during the American Civil War, partly for sentimental reasons and partly as research for his latest book. But we're beginning to suspect that there may be more to it."

  "Why's that, Dani?"

  "It's a long story, but somebody's got him under surveillance."

  "Oh, wow!"

  "And don't forget the mystery woman," Liz added.

  "Mystery woman?" Elaine prompted. "Who's she?"

  "Her name is Marilyn Muir," Liz said. "Sounds like she kind of picked Yates up while he was staying at the Admiral's Inn the other night."

  "The Admiral's Inn? In English Harbour?"

  "That's right," Liz agreed.

  "Are you guys still in Antigua?"

  "Yes. Why? That's where you had us pick up our guests."

  "Yes, but I figured, you know, you'd be island hopping."

  "We're sailing a round trip or two from here to Barbuda every day. I'm starting to feel like a bus driver," Dani said. "But don't get me wrong, it's an easy charter."

  "They're not even eating aboard, except for lunch," Liz added.

  "Something else just struck me, ladies," Elaine said. "Have you by any chance spotted a big sport-fisherman named Pisces of Atë?"

  "No. Pieces of Eight? That's an odd name. Why?" Liz asked.

  "It belongs to Merrill Bond. I heard on the grapevine that it was headed for Antigua."

  "Talk about coincidence," Dani said. "Any chance you could find out more?"

  "Possibly. A friend of mine's been seeing the skipper. One of those 'on-again, off-again' things. I'll buy her a drink and see if she knows anything."

  "Give us a call, either way," Dani said.

  "Will do. Stay safe, girls. I have to get back to the office. Bye-bye."

  "Elaine?"

  "Yes, Dani?"

  "Thanks a lot. I'm really glad you called. Talk later."

  "No problem. 'Bye."

  ****

  Liz filled their wine glasses again after their conversation with Elaine, and they sat in silence, each lost in thought. The sound of a big outboard in the distance caught their attention, and they looked up to see a familiar 21-foot rigid inflatable boat approaching.

  "Here comes Julian," Dani remarked smiling. Julian Wray, the harbormaster, was an old friend, always welcome. He often stopped by to chat if he saw them sitting in the cockpit.

  "Somebody's with him," Liz said. She stood and walked to the gate in the lifelines as the RIB bumped gently against their boarding ladder.

  "Good afternoon, Julian," Liz said, reaching for the line that he passed her.

  "Hello, Liz. You ladies been busy. Haven't seen much of you recently."

  "That's true, but we've been spending our nights on the mooring." She studied the pale white man in the passenger's seat as she made the line fast to a midship cleat. He was average in every way; he would have been unremarkable except that he wore a suit and tie.

  He nodded at her, a serious look on his face, and flashed a gold badge in a black leather case as he stood and mounted the boarding ladder. Liz stood her ground, one hand on each side of the gate in the lifelines, blocking his way.

  "DEA, coming aboard," he barked. "I need to ask you women some questions."

  "Where's your local escort?" Liz said, not moving. She sensed Dani stepping up beside her.

  "What?" The man asked, squinting up at them, half-blinded by the sun.

  "You're out of your jurisdiction, aren't you?" Dani asked.

  "This is a U.S. flagged vessel; I can board her anywhere."

  "No, sir, you can't. The U.S. Coast Guard can, and so can the local police," Liz said, in a polite tone.

  "You'd know that, if you were really DEA," Dani said. "That's why DEA agents always come with either the Coast Guard or uniformed local authorities."

  "This is an exception, as defined under U.S. code section ... "

  "Bullshit," Dani said. "Let me see your badge again."

  Scowling at her and blinking sweat from his eyes, he pulled the case from his inside jacket pocket and flipped it open.

  "Pass it up here: I want to examine your warrant card."

  "Negative. I cannot surrender my i.d."

  "Then I'm afraid you've wasted everybody's time, Mr. ... who did you say you were?"

  "I didn't. Who are you, anyway?"

  "I'm the captain of this vessel."

  "What are you hiding?"

  "Who says we're hiding anything? I think you're an impostor. Liz, please call the Antigua Coast Guard."

  As Liz stepped back toward the cockpit, the man stammered, "W-wait. We got off on the wrong foot, here. I apologize."

  Liz paused, turning back to face him and noticing the grin on Julian's face as he stood out of his passenger's line of sight.

  Dani, locking eyes with the man, nodded.

  "Things are kind of screwed up; we're really scrambling. We're chasing these two suspected drug runners, and they've given us the slip. That's why I'm here without my escort, in a private vessel. Can I ask you a few questions?"

  "Antigua's a free country. Ask whatever you want."

  "The two men we're interested in were seen aboard this boat yesterday."

  Dani gazed at him, waiting. "Well?" she said.

  "Well, answer me."

  "You made a statement; you didn't ask a question."

  "If I have to come back, I'll have you arrested for obstruction of justice."

  "Take him away from here, Julian. If he gives you any trouble, just call the cops."

  "Okay, Dani. Sorry to bother you and Liz."

  "No problem; it's not your fault. Come back later and we'll buy you a cold drink."

  ****

  Jones was frustrated with his agent in Antigua; the man was a prima donna. His results were usually sufficient to induce Jones to overlook his annoying personality, but this time, the agent had failed. Jones had berated him for his sloppy work, but that aside, they knew more now than they had before the man's encounter with Berger and Chirac.

  The behavior of the women was in itself valuable from an intelligence perspective. Innocent people didn't react to questioning by someone with federal credentials the way those two had. They had taken Jackson's minions out of the harbor on the boat; there was no doubt about that. Refusing to answer questions about the two men was a good indication that they had something to hide. The question in Jones's mind was not whether they were involved, but for whom they were working. />
  There was still the option of boarding the boat in their absence and conducting a thorough search, but his instincts told him that it would be fruitless. Given their brazen attitude toward his man's DEA credentials, he was sure they were experienced enough not to leave anything of value aboard the boat. Questioning them under duress at this juncture wasn't a viable option; careful observation was the only avenue open to him.

  The other information imparted by his lead agent was the presence of Pisces of Atë in English Harbour. That almost certainly meant that someone was working with Merrill Bond. It could be the women, but it could also be Thompson, given his duplicitous nature. Jones wasn't ready to rule out Marcus Jackson either. His phone call to Beauregard was enough to show that he might have an interest beyond Yates's gambling debts. And then there was Mr. Beauregard. Jones didn't like the man; his aversion went beyond his usual mistrust of members of the legal profession. Beauregard had a slimy feel about him; Jones doodled on a pad as he worked through various scenarios that could fit the facts at hand.

  Beauregard had hired him, but Jones knew how quickly loyalties could shift, especially when there was so much gold at stake. Jackson and Beauregard were both local boys, as were Yates and Thompson. Jones was the outsider here, along with this Merrill Bond, the treasure hunter. Thompson's former relationship with Bond made it likely that the two of them might be working some angle to cut Yates and company out of any treasure they found. Thompson's special-ops background meant that some of Jones's associates were acquainted with the former SEAL. While a few of them had worked with him, none of them trusted the man.

  Chapter 15

  The harbor was bathed in a soft, pink light; the sunset was reflected and diffused by the sea to the west and the clouds to the east. Dani and Liz were lingering over their dinner in the cockpit, enjoying the early evening, when the phone chimed.

  Liz picked it up and glanced at the caller i.d. display. "Local number," she said, frowning.

  "Probably Samuel," Dani said, reaching for the phone. She had called him after their afternoon visitor left, thinking that Samuel might have noticed Pisces of Atë. "Hello, this is Dani," she said as she thumbed the connect button.