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

by Charles Dougherty

  "What about Yates's files?"

  "Could be at his villa; could be on Vengeance, could be at the woman's suite. If we need them, we'll make him tell us where they are and send somebody after them. Better one focused break-in than trying all three places blind."

  Hart nodded, scratching his jaw. Meyers was silent. After a minute, Hart asked, "What about the women?"

  "The two on Vengeance have a track record of being hard to manage. Unless we need them for something, we stay away from them. Too much chance of attracting attention."

  "And the Muir woman?" Hart asked.

  "Excess baggage, Alex. She'd just be along for the ride, and one more body to deal with. Plus, the fewer people, the better. You know that."

  "Yeah, but Yates is soft on her. She might be leverage."

  "She's leverage anyway. We can threaten to take her, or kill her, or whatever. He won't have any choice but to believe us. We don't need the aggravation, do you think?"

  Hart was silent for almost a minute. "Okay. I think you're right. And we could always pick her up later if we need to, but it's got to be either Yates or Bond that knows where the gold is. Probably Yates."

  "So we're a 'go' on this?"

  "Yeah, I think so. You want me to call in the team and let's figure out how to make it happen?"

  "Yeah, do that. I gotta get a nap; jet lag's killing me. Wake me up when you get everybody together." Meyers stood up, stretched, and went into the bedroom.

  Chapter 31

  At first glance, it looked like a suicide, but Denardo began to see a pattern of inconsistencies that indicated otherwise. The position of the body was wrong, to start with. Beauregard was sprawled in his desk chair, leaning back away from his desk, but his right arm was unnaturally extended. The pistol, gripped loosely in his right hand, rested on the desktop.

  Denardo and the M.E. agreed that it was an unlikely way for the corpse to end up, given that the muzzle of the semiautomatic pistol had been in Beauregard's mouth when the fatal shot was fired. Most of the back of his skull had been blown away, making it unlikely that he would have been able to place the pistol on the desk after his fatal wound.

  And then there was the secretary's body in the anteroom. She had been killed by two closely spaced shots placed in the triangle formed by her eyes and the tip of her nose as she sat at her desk. The absence of gunshot residue indicated that the shooter had probably just stepped through the entrance door; otherwise, the muzzle would have been close enough to leave powder burns. The accuracy of the placement of the two rounds indicated an uncommon level of marksmanship, given the distance.

  The clincher, though, was the absence of spent brass. Someone had policed the area, picking up the shells. A woman who delivered for a coffee service had discovered the bodies. She had found the door unlocked, which she had expected at 8:30 in the morning. Upon seeing the secretary's body, she had dropped her box of supplies in the hall and collapsed against the far wall. Her screams had brought one of the other tenants, a dentist, from down the hall. He had called 911 and tried to comfort the woman until the first officers arrived

  Denardo dispatched several of the uniformed officers to canvass the neighborhood, but the area was not residential and the other businesses were mostly bars, restaurants, and gift shops. None were open for business this early, so he didn't expect that they'd find anything. He gave a few instructions to the crime scene team and headed for his office.

  ****

  "So, Marilyn and I have decided to pool our knowledge and work together to find Phaedra," Gerald said, raising his coffee cup to his lips and taking a sip as Marilyn smiled her agreement. They were sitting under the big awning in Vengeance's cockpit.

  "How fascinating," Liz said, "to discover that you're cousins after all this time." She gave Dani a stern look, sensing that an inappropriate remark might be forthcoming.

  Dani smiled and nodded. "So you were both looking for the same thing. Makes sense to work together. How can we help?"

  "Well," Marilyn said, "that's what we wanted to talk about. Before I met Gerald, I had hired a professional treasure hunter, a man named Merrill Bond. He's got a boat in Falmouth Harbour, called Pisces of Atë, and we think he may be close to finding the wreck. With Nick gone, Gerald's decided to just pass everything over to Bond."

  "Okay; you mean ... " Liz started to speak.

  "Just Nick's clunky equipment and his files and stuff. Marilyn and I would like to start living on Vengeance while Bond works, if that's okay," Gerald said.

  "Of course it's okay; Vengeance is yours for the next six weeks, at least. I don't think we have another booking right away, so you could probably extend, if need be."

  Marilyn grinned, her pleasure obvious. "We just might want to; I love this boat. I'm so excited."

  "But Gerald, what about your, um ... " Liz asked

  "My mal de mer?" He smiled. "Guess I outgrew it; maybe I just needed an incentive like Marilyn."

  "Well, you're certainly welcome. It'll be fun to have the two of you aboard for real," Liz said.

  "When do you want to settle in?" Dani asked.

  "Well, if it's okay, we'll call Bond and get him to send his crew over to collect Nick's gear this morning; Nick used to work for him, by the way," Gerald said. "There's more stuff at the villa they'll need to get, so I'm not sure about the timing, but ... "

  "That's not a problem. We'll be here all day," Liz said.

  "And if it suits the two of you, we'll get our stuff packed up and come aboard in the morning," Marilyn said.

  "That's great; gives us a chance to get everything squared away for you," Liz said. "Any specific food or beverage requests? Likes or dislikes?"

  "Not for me; I like everything," Marilyn said.

  "Me, too," Gerald added.

  ****

  "Why do I think something's still not quite right about the two of them?" Dani asked, as she and Liz finished the coffee after their guests walked away.

  Liz shrugged. "They don't really owe us answers, you know. As long as they've sorted things out between themselves, that's all that really matters."

  "I was dying to ask why she would hire a treasure hunter if there's nothing of value in the wreck," Dani said.

  "She's got more money than anybody would know what to do with. Guess she's curious?"

  "Speaking of curious, the coincidence of the two of them deciding to pursue this whole family quest thing at the same time when they didn't know one another is too much. There's something still rotten here. And Yates is just a sucker; she's got him wrapped around her finger, don't you think?"

  "It looks that way to us. I can't argue with that, but we don't know what's between them. Remember your favorite saying?"

  "Yes. We just drive the boat."

  "Right. At least it's turning into a regular charter," Liz said.

  "Except we've got a bunch of ex-CIA mercenaries poking their noses in everything, and five people are dead."

  "So what do you want to do, Dani?" Liz had a look of exasperation on her face.

  "Drive the boat, but watch our backs. I like Marilyn; I'm lukewarm on Gerald. But I don't trust either one of them. Those ex-spooks are after one of them for some reason, and I'm betting it has to do with the treasure that nobody admits they're looking for."

  ****

  "You ever heard of Bright Star Ventures, LLC?" Joe Denardo asked. He had just told Phillip about Beauregard's death.

  "Yes; where'd you run across that name? Is there some connection to Beauregard?" Phillip asked.

  "Yeah, but I don't know what it is. There's a series of recent payments to them from Beauregard without much explanation. They're just marked 'Investigation - Yates, et al.' Who are they?"

  Phillip told Joe about Jacob Meyers's connection to Bright Star Ventures. "Bright Star Ventures rented the villa in Antigua that Alex Hart was using to spy on Yates and company."

  "Who's Alex Hart?" Denardo asked.

  "Meyers's partner. Remember I mentioned the guy that's
so average he's invisible?" Phillip gave Denardo a summary of what had been happening in Antigua, beginning with the attack on Vengeance by Rigo and Chen and concluding with the death of Rodriguez and Jackson. He explained how he had come to identify Hart from the photograph that Julian had made, and how that had led to the discovery that Bright Star Ventures had rented the villa across from the one Yates was using.

  "I'm still planning to talk to Mickey; he was due back here yesterday," Denardo said. "I'm starting to wonder if he's coming back, but if he doesn't, he'd be leaving money on the table. That's not like him."

  "Do you figure that bunch is somehow connected to whatever Bright Star Ventures is up to?" Phillip asked.

  "I don't know. Seems like Yates is the connection, somehow. That $250,000 is bugging me."

  "What about it?" Phillip asked. "Dani and Liz both heard Rigo say Yates owed Jackson the money, and they both heard Mickey say that Beauregard had paid it off."

  "Yeah, I know," Denardo agreed. "The puzzle is where Beauregard got the money. There's no sign of him raising anything like that kind of cash, and I don't think Jackson would have been dealing in anything else. That kind of money's too visible if you start moving it through banking channels."

  "So what are you thinking, Joe?"

  "Well, drugs come to mind, especially with Berto Rodriguez involved, but Dani told you he wasn't looking for money, other than some mention of Yates's gold. Could Meyers and his crowd come up with that kind of cash?"

  "Oh, yeah. It may or may not have been real, now that you mention it," Phillip added. "He was once involved in a scheme to destabilize the economy of a certain South American country by dumping truckloads of counterfeit currency. Real or fake cash is something he always had on hand."

  "Damn. I wish I could lay hands on that $250,000. No telling what we might learn."

  "Any chance you could get a warrant for Jackson's office? Or Mickey's?"

  "I'm working on it. They shared an office in Jackson's house. Hate to say it, but having Beauregard dead makes it a little easier. Plus, the longer Mickey stays out of touch, the more likely it is that he met with foul play. All I've got right now is hearsay; it may be enough to get a warrant, in context. We'll see."

  "Okay. I could give you an affidavit if that would help."

  "I may need one at some point. Right now, you're enough of a known quantity so that I don't think I need one for the warrant. Everybody still remembers that you and your friends helped nail Alfano. Speaking of warrants, though ... "

  "What about it?"

  "We've been through a lot of Beauregard's files; the client-confidential stuff is sealed, but there was a lot of stuff that wasn't. He had surveillance reports on Dani and Liz, and pretty extensive background checks, too. Marilyn Muir and Yates, and that treasure hunter, Merrill Bond, as well. They came from Bright Star."

  "That's worrisome," Phillip said, "especially with Meyers in Antigua."

  "Why does that worry you in particular, Phillip?"

  "Meyers is scum, but he's competent. He's a good manager and a first-rate leader. If he's in Antigua, it's because something big is about to happen there."

  "I'd sure like to talk to him," Denardo said. "If it comes down to it, think you could help serve an arrest warrant on him down-island?"

  "Yeah, but for what?"

  "I don't know yet. If you think of anything, call me, okay?"

  "Sure. I think I need to call Dani and Liz and get them on high alert. Stay in touch."

  ****

  Dani watched Liz finish dusting the chart table where Nick's instruments had been. The two crewmen from Pisces of Atë had just left with the last of Nick's belongings.

  As Liz finished, Dani opened the chart table and took out her laptop.

  "Email?" Liz asked. "Thought you just checked it. What're you looking for?"

  "That satellite tracker," Dani replied.

  "I'd forgotten about that," Liz said. "Guess it doesn't matter since we're on the same team as Bond, now."

  "I don't know about that. I'm at least going to change the password on that account, so we'll be in control of it. For all we know, Nick shared it with somebody else besides Bond."

  "I hadn't thought of that, Dani."

  "Sometimes, my devious mind pays off, I guess," Dani said, as she filled in the user name and password. "Okay," she said after a moment. "If you need it, the new user name is 'Mike Reilly,' and the password is 'seaserpent' — one word, no caps."

  "I won't forget that," Liz said.

  "No. Now, let's see if it still knows where we are. I'd like to find where he hid it, just in case we want to ditch it."

  Liz moved around behind Dani, looking over her shoulder as the screen filled with an outline map of Antigua. "I'll be damned," she said. "Looks like it was in his stuff somewhere."

  "I was hoping for that. I actually forgot; I had meant to make sure it was in his stuff before they picked it up," Dani said. "Now we can keep up with Bond instead of vice versa."

  "What are you thinking?" Liz asked, frowning.

  "Nothing in particular. I just like the idea of being the hunter rather than the prey."

  As Dani put the laptop away, her cell phone rang. Liz picked it up from the table in the saloon and looked at the caller i.d. screen.

  "Phillip," she said, touching the connect button. "Good morning Phillip. Let me pass the phone to Dani."

  She listened for a few seconds. "Sure, no problem, she said, pressing the hands-free button and putting the phone back on the table.

  "Good morning." Phillip's voice sounded tinny through the phone's small speaker. "I just got off the phone with Denardo." He summarized what he had learned from the detective.

  "So Yates's lawyer's dead?" Dani asked, shaking her head.

  "Yeah. Denardo said it was one of the most poorly staged fake suicides he's ever heard of. The shooter even picked up the brass. But he was a hell of a shot." Phillip described the secretary's wounds.

  "Odd. Sounds like a half-assed ex-military assassin," Dani said.

  "Yes," Phillip agreed. "Well trained, not too bright, and not much experience with faking suicide."

  "So what does this mean for us?" Liz asked.

  Phillip told them about Jake Meyers's involvement.

  "And he's headed down here?" Dani asked.

  "Yes, so it looks like something's about to happen in your neighborhood. I wanted to warn you."

  "Thanks," Dani said. She told Phillip the latest news on Yates and Marilyn.

  "Interesting," Phillip said. "Denardo's going to want to talk to Yates pretty soon. Mind if I give him your number?"

  "Of course not; tell him they're planning to move aboard tomorrow morning, though. They'll probably be in her suite tonight."

  "Okay. I'll pass that along. Denardo wants to talk to Mickey Semmes, too. Any sign of him still being in Antigua?"

  "No. He should be back in Savannah by now, unless he changed his plans," Dani said.

  "Okay. I'm thinking about heading up your way. Denardo might want my help to serve a warrant on Meyers. I'll keep you posted."

  Chapter 32

  He was ravenous; clean kills always left him hungering for affirmation that he was still alive. Some of the guys he'd trained with wanted sex, some wanted the oblivion of drugs or drink, but he wanted food. It had been a joke among his friends in Iraq, and MREs didn't really satisfy his craving. They kept him in the frame of mind to kill. He shrugged, playing with the shell casings on the table in front of him as he waited for his food and rehashed his morning's kill.

  "Sir?"

  "What?" he asked, snapping back to the present. He looked up to see the waitress, her left arm supporting a tray with several meals on it while she held a steaming plate in her right hand.

  "Sorry to interrupt your thoughts, but could you move those? So I can put your food down?"

  "Sure. Sorry. My mind was wandering."

  "No problem," she said, bending her knees, keeping her back straight as she lowere
d the plate to his placemat. "I'll be back around with the coffee as soon as I drop these other orders off. Need anything else?"

  "No, I'm good," he said, watching her walk away and thinking about the secretary this morning.

  He hadn't expected the secretary; Meyers had told him to kill the lawyer and make it look like suicide. He didn't like working in a civilian environment. It was easier in Iraq. The money was better working for Bright Star, though. He thought about how much he'd have if he'd been paid $50,000 for every kill over the last few years. He shook his head, wondering if Meyers would pay extra for the secretary.

  He cut up the strip steak, pleased that it wasn't overcooked. Neither were the eggs. He dredged a piece of steak through the runny yolk and put it on the corner of a slice of toast. He raised the toast to his mouth and took a bite, chewing as he watched the waitress bantering with a man at another table. She laughed and turned away, walking toward the coffee machine.

  Swallowing, he picked up his Smartphone and scrolled through the directory. He touched the entry for Meyers and lifted the phone to his ear.

  "Beauregard's dead," he said, when Meyers answered. "Had to waste the secretary, too. That'll be an extra 50 grand, right?"

  He listened for a moment and then raised his voice as he said, "Fuck you, Meyers. I don't kill for free. That was what we agreed on for Beauregard."

  He listened again and then held the phone where he could see it. "Shithead," he mumbled, when he saw that the call had been disconnected. "Hung up on me, the bastard."

  He picked up his coffee cup and emptied it in one swallow, looking around for the waitress. She stood at a table talking to two men, a steaming pot of coffee in her hand. He thought she looked worried as she motioned toward his table with her head. The two men got up and came toward him, moving with purpose. One of them reached down and back; the killer dropped the phone on the floor and pushed his chair back from the table as he instinctively reached for his pistol.

  By the time he realized he'd left it in the lawyer's hand, the two men stood at his table. The one who had been reaching for something flashed a badge. "Good morning, sir. I'm Detective Sergeant Dawson. This is my partner, Detective Wilson. We need to ask you some questions."