“Copy that,” Franklin replied. “I’ll contact her right away. Anything unusual comes up, we’ll let you know.”
Scott minimized the screen and the two men on surveillance reappeared. “Sorry, Bill,” Scott said. “But you’re going to have to hang tight there. We don’t know enough to pull you off. Someone else may have access to the building. We’ll get someone there to relieve you before nightfall.”
“No problem,” Guthrie said. “I have an unobstructed view of three sides of the building. It’s surrounded by cleared vacant land and the only thing behind it is marsh.”
“Same for you, George,” Scott said. “We can’t be certain the subject won’t come directly there, if and when the wife picks them up. Keep your eyes and ears open.”
“Roger that,” Hamilton replied.
Scott closed the laptop and swiveled the chair around. “What kinda plan are you and the director cooking up?”
I spent the rest of the day mostly fussing over my grandson, making sure he stayed in the shade for the most part. Or in the water. Though he wasn’t walking yet, he quickly learned to swim. Experts call it the Mammalian Breath-Hold Response. Infants instinctively hold their breath when submerged for a second or two. I figure that in the grand scheme of things, we’re just not that far removed from our air-breathing cousins in the sea and if a person allowed themselves, they’d quickly adapt to life on or in the water. Little Jesse sure did. After the first shock of going under, and much to Eve and Nick’s astonishment while watching me dunk him, he quickly began to enjoy it, laughing hysterically when I lifted him up. After just a few minutes, he taught himself to kick with both feet and pull with his hands, to swim underwater as I backed away from him. A born waterman.
At some point in the early afternoon, Travis and Nick disappeared for a while. Eve had asked where they might have gone and I’d told her that Travis probably needed to ask him some legal advice. Not far from the actual truth, but enough that I felt guilty about it.
In my mind, I’d accomplished what had been asked, since it looked like Michal was free of the chain around his neck that was GT Bradley, and I’d told Travis about the connection to Chase Conner. A part of me wanted to be there when he was taken down, but a larger part was more concerned with continuing my life and enjoying it.
Later in the evening, after we’d eaten and were enjoying a few ice-cold beers, Travis asked Nick’s opinion on Michal’s new identity. Eve gave Travis a curious look, but didn’t say anything.
Nick considered the information Travis had told him for a moment. “So, Michal Grabowski will just cease to exist?”
“He pretty much has already,” Travis replied. “First, we already know that when his credit card records are checked, they will show usage from Pittsburgh to Key West. Second, when the police finally pulled what little was left of the crack dealer out of the tidal pool, the only ID on him was Michal Grabowski’s Pennsylvania driver’s license and the very credit card that brought him to Key West. The head and face were far too mangled to make a picture ID, but the coroner estimated the body was about the same height and weight shown on the license even though both legs were missing and at least half the rest of the body mass was gone in big chunks. Based on what he had, the coroner felt comfortable making the preliminary identification as Grabowski, pending DNA analysis. Michal Grabowski didn’t have a DNA sample on record anywhere and both parents are deceased, so that’ll come back negative. The coroner’s initial identification will then stand. Michal Grabowski, a tourist vacationing in Key West, died in a horrific accident.”
Charlie had taken the kids to put them to bed. Scott and Germ took advantage of her absence and quickly gathered the dishes in a tub, disappearing toward the north pier to wash them. Under the flickering flame of three tiki torches, Carl, Travis, and I sat across from Nick and Eve, Nick gently rocking the baby carrier. Standing behind them, Michal and Coral held hands, listening closely.
“How good are the documents you had created?” Nick asked, his legal mind already racing ahead.
“Even the CIA wouldn’t be able to disprove that the man behind you isn’t in fact Bob Trebor. And by the time we’re through, there will even be fingerprints on file, dating back to when his parents had him fingerprinted in grade school.”
“You can do that, Dad?” Eve asked.
“Me?” I said, laughing. “I can’t even compose an email without help. If Travis says it’s done, it is.”
Michal sat down next to Eve and Coral put her hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her and smiled. “So, we can start a new life?”
“If you mean between Bob and Coral,” Nick said, “that’s pretty much up to you two. But, from a legal standpoint, it seems as though Bob Trebor started his life twenty-five years ago. Now, how good is yours, Coral?”
She looked shocked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Coral La Roc and Robert Trebor? Please.”
I nodded in agreement. “As my friend Rusty would say, it’s a bit of a co-inky-dink.”
Coral smiled defiantly. “I had mine legally changed several years ago and the records are sealed.”
“Sealed to casual inspection,” Nick said. “I could get a court order to produce it without very much trouble.”
For the first time since I’d met the young woman, I saw fear in her eyes and couldn’t help but wonder what she was running from. People come to the Keys on the run from something all the time. I was running toward something, a life of leisure. Or so I thought.
“Do you think Chyrel can do a little surgery there?” I asked Travis.
He gave it a moment’s consideration and said, “I’m sure she can arrange for the electronic copy of the sealed document to disappear. It may take a day or two for the physical copy. And she can beef up Coral La Roc’s background and check her old identity to make sure there aren’t any holes and no trail to Florida.” Then he grinned at the young woman. “But you really need to work on that Southie accent.”
“What time do you need to head back?” I asked Eve. “Y’all are welcome to stay over. The Revenge is connected to shore power, so it has air conditioning and all the comforts of a small hotel room.”
“We can wait and leave in the morning,” Nick said. “You nearly wore Alfie out in the water. He doesn’t usually sleep this soundly.”
“If you’re sure we won’t be putting you out,” Eve chimed in.
“Not at all. Come on and I’ll show you around. Nick can watch after the little guy for a few minutes.”
When I opened the hatch to the salon and switched on the indirect lighting, Eve gasped softly. “This looks a lot nicer than any hotel room.”
Going forward, I showed her the stateroom and private head and how to operate the marine toilet. “I need to tell you something, Eve,” I finally said when we returned to the salon.
“Your first mate and the two black guys aren’t just here for a visit, are they?”
“He’s not exactly my first mate.”
“I sort of got that impression. He’s with the government? And the other two are Marines, like you used to be.”
“Once a Marine, always a Marine,” I chided, sitting down at the settee. “You have good observation skills. The truth is, Travis is a deputy director for the Department of Homeland Security. I sometimes help them out with transportation.”
She looked somewhat surprised. “They’re like spies or something?”
“Naw, that’s CIA. He’s the director of the Caribbean Counterterrorism Command for Homeland Security. Germ and Scott work for him and, yeah, they came from the Corps. Recon Marines, like myself.”
Sitting down at the settee, Eve considered what I’d told her for a moment. “Why are you telling me all this? Couldn’t you, like, get in trouble?”
I sat down next to her. “Kim told me all the lies your mom fed you girls about me when you were growing up. I wanted you to find out on your own what kind of man I am, but something’s happened to move the timeta
ble up a little.”
Eve’s eyes grew wide. “What?”
“Did you hear about the shooting last night in Key West?” She nodded. “The four of us were involved. The guy we were after got away. It’s his accountant that’s wanted by DHS.”
“Look, I understand that Mother lied. I understand what kind of man you are. Kim and I talked about it a lot and today, I saw for myself while you were playing with Alfie. Why the need to give me details on what happened last night?”
“Nick’s helping us catch the guy.”
Eve’s head jerked up. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not getting my husband involved in some kind of Wild West shootout.”
“It’s nothing like that, Eve. I wouldn’t put you or him in any danger. It’s just that he has contacts and was able to make an arrangement that might put the guy we want right in our hands.”
“How does he know these people?”
I was hoping that question wouldn’t come up. Eve didn’t need to hear that her husband had been responsible for nearly getting her father killed and had once been a notorious gunrunner. At least, not from me.
“Even guilty people deserve representation,” I said. “And sometimes lawyers provide it, even if they know their client isn’t a good person.” Another true enough statement, leaving me feeling guilty.
“Is that why you asked us down here and insisted Nick come?”
“No. We just uncovered this information night before last. The only reason I went down to Key West to help Michal was the connection between the guy that was after Michal and the guy that we’re after.”
“So the only thing Nick is doing is providing information?”
“A bit more than that,” I explained. “Through his contacts, he might be able to arrange for the bad guys to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I just wanted you to know this. Carl once told me that the best thing for a relationship was complete honesty, so I’m being as honest as I can with you.”
“Too bad you didn’t know Carl when you and Mom were still together.”
“Totally different,” I said. “There were times back then when I was ordered to go somewhere and wasn’t allowed to say where or when. Sometimes, I didn’t even know where or when and didn’t have time to tell your mom goodbye when the orders came. I probably hated it more than she did. But there are times when a man’s duty has to come before his honor. She just never understood that.” I looked deep into my daughter’s eyes. She has my mom’s eyes. “Do you still want to stay the night? Charlie usually makes pancakes in the morning. And she doesn’t let me help.”
Eve began laughing and I knew she remembered the time I once helped her make pancakes for Sandy, just after Kim was born. We’d nearly burned down the kitchen.
“Yeah, Dad,” she said when she finally got control of herself. “We’ll stay.”
“Good. Because little Jesse’s already scheduled for a second swimming lesson in the morning.”
“You have to stop calling him that around Nick, Dad. Family is important to Italians. It was his idea to name Alfie after you and his dad, you know.”
“No,” I replied. “I didn’t know that. But, come on, Alfie? You want the kid getting a black eye at school every day? How about I call him Fred? That’s short for Alfredo, too. And it’s a tough-guy kind of name.”
“I like Fred.”
I grinned. “Okay, Fred it is. Now, let’s get back to the party. It’s almost sunset.”
“Ooh, yes. Kim told me about your sunsets here.”
By the time Mary-Beth arrived on Cudjoe Key, GT was nearly delirious from the heat and loss of blood to mosquitoes. Finally, Austin spotted his old Power Wagon coming around the curve just north of the sheriff’s substation. Finding that right at the end of Drost Drive on the corner of Highway One, the two men had quickly cut through a vacant lot overgrown with a thick tangle of vegetation and then moved several blocks up the highway until they came to a large wooded area on the right.
There, they’d hidden out in a dense thicket of palmetto and scrub oak, slowly baking in the hot afternoon sun, with little shade. It’d taken Mary-Beth three hours to reach them, and though Austin was used to the climate, GT was near heat exhaustion.
Austin waited until the truck was just a hundred yards from them before he stepped out of the underbrush, waving at his wife. She pulled off on the shoulder at the end of the southbound merge lane and waited until a white van with dark windows passed before turning the big truck around.
Austin had to help GT get to the road and into the truck, then he ran around to the other side and slid in, pushing his wife to the middle. Mary-Beth reached down on the floorboard and opened a cooler, handing both men a bottle of water, which they immediately emptied.
“Thanks, hon,” Austin said. “This is Mister Bradley. He wants to buy some guns.”
“You have any more water?” GT said, his tongue so thick he sounded drunk, talking through cracked lips.
Taking two more bottles from the cooler, she handed each man one. “Go easy,” she warned GT as he started to chug the water. “Too much, too fast will shut down your kidneys. Now, one of you want to tell me what the hell happened?”
“Doesn’t this heap have air conditioning?” GT asked.
“Sure, it’s two-by-fifty-five air conditioning,” Mary-Beth replied. “Roll down both windows and drive fast. Now what the hell happened last night?”
Austin filled her in on the gun battle from the night before and what GT had offered if Austin would help him.
“My guys should be arriving in Miami pretty soon,” GT added. “How soon before we get up there?”
“A coupla hours,” Austin replied.
“Probably longer than that,” Mary-Beth added. “I passed two checkpoints where the cops were looking over every car headed north. One was in Islamorada, but it’s in the middle of town, so we can take the neighborhood roads around it. The other one was halfway between Card Sound Road and Blackwater Sound. That’s why it took me so long gettin’ here. I went up to North Key Largo to Card Sound Road. There’s a third one set up just past Alabama Jack’s.”
“Dammitall,” Austin muttered. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to do some four-wheelin’. That’ll add an hour. Got my phone?”
Mary-Beth handed her husband the spare phone he’d asked her to bring. He was constantly losing his phones, so she always had a spare, with all his contacts already loaded on it. She’d gotten on a first-name basis with several Verizon customer support people. Activating the replacement phone while driving was child’s play. While she had Verizon support on the line, she went ahead and ordered a new replacement.
Austin handed the phone to GT and said, “See if your guys are in Miami yet. Tell ’em to rent a car or a van with GPS and go to twenty-seven three forty-one Old Dixie Highway in Naranja. It’ll take ’em close to an hour to get there. But we won’t get there until after dark.”
“How you gonna get around the road block?” Mary-Beth asked while GT made his call.
“That road block south of Card Sound Road? Was it before or after Southern Glades Trail?”
A smile crossed Mary-Beth’s face. “Definitely north of it.”
“We’ll hafta go a few miles west of the highway. That first canal road is too close to the highway. They’d see our lights. Maybe just follow Southern Glades all the way to the airport?”
“Yeah, that’d probably be a lot safer.”
GT ended his call. “They just touched down in Miami and are gonna rent a big van and meet us there after they get something to eat. Probably get there a little before we do.”
“Store’s closed,” Mary-Beth said. “They’ll hafta wait in the parkin’ lot.”
As they drove into Key Largo nearly an hour later, Austin’s phone rang. Mary-Beth picked it up and looked at the caller ID. “It’s that lawyer guy again. He must be really hard up to sell some guns.”
The mention of guns got GT’s attention. “What kind of guns? Is that the guy with the helicopte
r?”
Raising a finger to silence GT, Austin tapped the button to accept the call. “Brown.”
GT could hear a man’s voice on the phone but couldn’t make out what he was saying over the whine of the truck’s big tires and the buffeting wind. After a few seconds, Austin said, “Well, I’m not in Miami right now, Mister Maggio. I’ll be at my shop in about an hour, if you wanna stop by. Or I can come to you.”
He listened for a few more seconds and said, “I don’t know about that. You know I like to deal one on one. Who is this guy?”
After nearly half a minute, Austin replied, “Okay, I’ll see him. But he’s gotta come to my shop. Not that I don’t trust ya, Mister Maggio, I do. I just don’t know this fella and never heard of him. I’d be a sight more comfortable in my own shop.”
Austin listened for a moment and said, “Okay, midnight, then? The door’ll be locked. Tell him to just tap on the glass.”
Ending the call, Austin glanced over at GT as they passed the Key Largo city limit sign. “You might just be in luck, Mister Bradley.”
“That was the guy with the chopper?”
“Yes, sir, it was. But I won’t be meeting with him. He’s sending one of his guys, an Australian fella named Donnie Hinkle. He has a case of AK-74s he needs to unload in a hurry.”
“You mean AK-47, right? I know what those are.”
“Nope, the seventy-four is the forty-seven’s big brother,” Austin replied. “Seven point six two millimeter.”
“He say what he wants for them?” GT asked, already liking this turn of events.
“Never talk numbers on the phone. But you can rest assured, I’ll negotiate a good price for ya. And I got tons of ammo for them. When we make a deal with this Hinkle guy, I’ll ask him to contact his boss about borrowing his whirlybird and pilot.”
Slowing down, Austin kept looking nervously in his rearview mirror. “That white car’s been behind us since we got back on the highway in Islamorada.” Mary-Beth started to twist around and Austin stopped her. “Don’t turn around.”
Fallen Honor: A Jesse McDermitt Novel (Caribbean Adventure Series Book 7) Page 22