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Murder in Mariposa Beach

Page 12

by Teresa Michael


  Leaning into him, she examined the neatly printed columns of letters and numbers.

  “Have you seen anything like this before?” He asked.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Are you sure? When Pilar was at the café or your home, perhaps you saw something like this in her notebook or briefcase.”

  “No, but it does look a little bit like the tide chart printed in the newspaper, except there’s an additional column to the left, and I don’t know what those symbols to the right mean.”

  “I think you’re right about the link to the tide chart.” He pointed to letters down the side. “I think these letters stand for cities or beaches along the coast. For example, L could be Lido or Longboat, B could be Bradenton Beach, S for Siesta Key and V could be Venice. The letters are in the correct order.”

  She took the second page of the document, reviewed it and asked as she pointed, “What are these names over here? They look like business names.”

  “You’re right. They’re businesses located throughout South Florida and down into the Keys. The same parent company that owns the place where Pilar works also owns these businesses.”

  “Do you think Pilar was involved in whatever this is, or do you think she came upon this information accidentally?”

  “Not sure, but she must have downloaded this file onto your laptop to get it out of her possession. The reason why could go either way. She might have been double-crossing whomever she’s working for, or she could have discovered it and was going to turn them in,” he said. “It’s all pure speculation, but it’s most likely why she wanted to talk to you on Monday.”

  “So, you think the company she’s working for is involved in illegal activities?”

  “Possibly. I probably shouldn’t discuss an open case any further.”

  “You already showed me the code.”

  “That was in the line of questioning.”

  “What if I guess? Can you confirm or deny, or maybe just nod?”

  “Perhaps.” He smiled.

  “Do you think the company she works for could be a front for something like money laundering?”

  “What makes you say that?” He asked narrowing his gaze.

  “I know someone who has many reliable contacts. After the break-in, I asked him to check out Pilar’s company. My guy called me back before the show last night.”

  “You have a guy?” He asked.

  “Yes, he’s someone I used to work with.” She looked up at him. He narrowed his eyes in response. “You have guys. I can have a guy,” she said. “And he’s a very reliable guy.”

  “So what did your guy tell you?” Jack asked, stifling a smile.

  “South Florida Workplace Solutions is owned by JRK Enterprises, based in Miami. They also own other businesses in Tampa, Miami and down into the Keys. Most of them are high cash businesses, like convenience stores, bars and salons, including the same nail salon in Bradenton that was burglarized the day before our break-in, and coincidentally, serviced by Pilar and her company.” Libby gestured toward Jack, who took her hand, looked at her nails and then leaned over and looked at her red toenails peeking out of her sandals.

  Holding up her fingers he said, “Nice nails.”

  “Thank you.” Wiggling her fingers out of his, she said, “Purely coincidental.”

  “So you think that this JRK Enterprises is involved in some kind of illicit activities that would give them a large amount of cash that they would need to infuse into legitimate businesses to launder the money.”

  “Yes, it makes sense. What are you thinking?” Libby asked.

  “Pretty much the same thing,” he said. “Your old boss was right. You are a good investigator.”

  “My guy is trying to get more information on exactly who or what JRK Enterprises is. He was able to track them through some dummy corporations to a parent company registered in the Caymans but, so far, no luck on who the people are behind the parent company.”

  “Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office has been participating in a joint task force with the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, as well as other police agencies in the state, tracking a smuggling ring. These guys are linked to drugs, weapons and human trafficking. You name it, they’re into it,” Jack said.

  “So now we have a motive. And this code could somehow link all this together. But how?”

  “That’s a pretty big leap there, and what’s this we-stuff?”

  “Hey, did you know about the Caymans before I told you?”

  “No, I didn’t, but I’m not necessarily in-the-know on this task force,” he said. “And I’m going to have to report our conversation.”

  She looked up and said, “We’re missing the sunset.”

  Couples, families with children and a few single people were scattered about on the beach, settling in to watch the sunset. She stepped down from the bench and walked towards the beach. Jack refolded the pages and stood to place them into his back pocket.

  “It’s a good sunset tonight,” he said as he followed, stopping to stand behind her, close but not too close.

  “Yes, it is,” she said, as she turned towards him and smiled. She noticed his expression change, and then he smiled. “What?” she asked, her hair blowing back in the breeze.

  “Beautiful,” he mumbled. “Just beautiful.”

  Turning back to face the sunset, she could feel a flush from her neck to her hairline. She had to restrain herself from leaning back into him.

  As the sun slowly disappeared into the water, he asked, “Are you hungry? Perhaps we can get a bite at the Veranda Bar?”

  “Detective, are you asking me out?” She turned to look up at him.

  “I’m hungry. I’m just asking if you’re hungry, too.” He shrugged. “We both gotta eat.”

  “So, we can eat separately at the same place.” For the first time in a long time, she felt light, as if the lingering dark cloud of her past was lifting, a bit of sunshine now filtering through.

  “Something like that – the whole un-date thing.”

  “Since you put it that way, yes, I’m hungry, and, except for the Mariposa Café, the Veranda Bar is one of my favorite places.”

  As they crossed the street, he asked, “So who’s your guy?”

  “Confidential source, Detective,” she said looking up at him with a smile.

  “Whoever he is, he’s got some great information.”

  “You’re jealous that my guy may be better than your guy.”

  “I won’t tell Sam Stacey you said that.”

  They were laughing as they walked up the steps to the Veranda Bar situated just off the lobby of the Mariposa Inn. Since it was a nice evening, they decided to sit outside. The table had a great view of the Mariposa Café’s large sign sporting a big blue butterfly perched on the ‘M.’

  “I’ve meant to tell you what a great sign that is,” he said.

  “It’s a Cerulean butterfly, and it cost a fortune, but it’s well worth it. Mimi and I sat at this same table on the morning we raised the sign. It was a great day, and we toasted with Mimosas,” she said as Julio approached.

  “Good evening, Julio.” Turning towards Jack, she added, “This is Detective Seiler from the Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Good evening, Detective. I hope you find out who hurt Miss Libby and took Miss Pilar very soon,” he said.

  “We’re working on doing just that,” Jack said.

  “Libby, do you want your regular?” Julio asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “What’s your regular?” Jack asked.

  “Peel and Eat shrimp and a Corona,” Julio said.

  “I’ll take the same,” Jack said.

  When Julio returned with their beers, Libby said, “I was wondering if you had remembered anything else about that man Pilar was with last Saturday?”

  “Well, come to think of it,” he began. “I think he may have been in here before last Saturday.”

  “What man?” Jack asked.

&
nbsp; “Pilar was seen with a man here last Saturday afternoon.” To Julio, she asked, “When did you see him here?”

  “It was the night of David’s show in the courtyard. I think the man who was with Pilar was also with two other men here. They sat at this table, drank beers and watched the show. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure he was the same man that met the other two.”

  Libby thanked Julio as he moved to the next table to take their order.

  After Julio was out of earshot, Jack asked, “Holding out on me again? You know you really shouldn’t be out and about playing detective.”

  “No, I’m not holding out on you.” She explained how she went for a massage appointment and what Seham had told her about Pilar’s visit the previous Saturday. “Seham said they looked like they were arguing and that Pilar stormed out. Then the man followed her towards the parking lot.”

  “The therapist didn’t know who the man was?”

  “She said she had never seen him before, but that Pilar was really upset and said something like ‘I don’t have it’ or something along those lines.”

  “This does explain one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There was a note by the phone in Pilar’s kitchen that had twelve o’clock Saturday written on it. That explains where she was on Saturday.”

  “I wonder what the guy who was with Pilar on Saturday has to do with the two guys here on Monday. I would swear they were the same two guys looking at our computers.”

  “Now we know what they were looking for,” Jack said, taking a drink.

  • • •

  After a pleasant dinner and conversation, they walked across the street to the café parking lot where Jack’s truck was parked next to Libby’s Jeep. He opened the truck’s passenger door and retrieved the laptop from behind the seat.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing her the laptop. “We removed the questionable files. They were buried in a temp folder.”

  Libby was leaning against her driver’s door. She reached for the laptop, looked up and said, “Thanks, I appreciate your getting it back to me. I have to replace that damn cappuccino machine.”

  As she took the laptop, his hands lingered on hers. She was close enough to catch the hint of soap mixed with his scent. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt sure he could see her shirt moving up and down with each beat. She involuntarily leaned closer and lifted her chin to him.

  As he leaned in, a horn beep from the street broke the moment.

  “I think I should go before this un-date turns into a date,” he said, taking a small step backward.

  Libby stifled a nervous laugh and said, “Yes, I think so, too.” She quickly opened her car door and slipped in. “Thanks, see you soon.” She started her car and looked out the window. He motioned for her to roll down the window.

  “I plan to collect on a real date when this over.”

  “I look forward to it, Detective.” She backed out of the parking space, looked back and waved before turning her car towards home.

  • • •

  Libby closed her front door, leaned against it and smiled. She had decided that Jack Seiler was a very nice man, and after this case, she would definitely be breaking her rule about dating a police officer.

  Her father always told her not to marry a cop. The only thing worse was marrying a firefighter. Of course, he always said that in the presence of his brother, the Fire Chief.

  Libby was more than attracted to Jack Seiler. She had not felt such strong chemistry since she first met her ex-husband when Tony was in his last year of law school. Since opening the café with Mimi, she had had a few dalliances, mostly with tourists. A movie here, a dinner there. No strings. No commitments. She’d even slept with two or three, or maybe it was four. Sometimes a girl just needs to get laid.

  But none of them hit her like the attraction she had for Detective Jack Seiler. It was a gravitational pull that drew her into his orbit. She couldn’t help it.

  She set her laptop and her purse on the desk. She was contemplating a cold shower when the house phone rang.

  Since hardly anyone had her landline number, she thought it was most likely David, wondering what had happened to her appearance at the cast party. She went into the kitchen, lifted the phone from its cradle and said, “Hello.”

  “Libby,” said a faintly familiar voice from what seemed like far away.

  “Pilar is that you?! Where are you? Are you all right?!”

  “Yes, it’s me.” Pilar’s voice sounded strained, and Libby faintly heard a man’s gruff voice in the background. “Your laptop, do you have it?” Pilar asked.

  “Yes, it’s here at home.”

  “The police don’t have it?”

  Libby looked at the laptop on her desk. “No, I have that one, but the computers at the shop were vandalized and all the hard drives were stolen.”

  “Libby, I’m so sorry about everything. This is all my fault, but – ”

  “Shut up and get on with it,” the male voice growled.

  “Libby, boot up your computer and go to Explorer. Under one of the Windows program files, I created a bit folder with a temp folder underneath. Copy the file and the executable in that folder to a flash drive. Do not click on the executable.”

  “Pilar, just a minute I’m booting it up now,” Libby said as she opened her laptop and pressed the power button.

  “Give me the goddamned phone,” the man snarled. “Listen here. You need to get that flash drive to Key West in twenty-four hours. Keep the cops out of this, or the results won’t be too pretty for either one of you. And turn on your damn cell phone. We’ll call you.”

  “Libby, help me, pl – ” Pilar’s voice was lost in the severed connection.

  Libby went to the front room, located her bag and searched for her phone.

  “Damn, I turned off the ringer so I wouldn’t be interrupted during dinner,” she said as she noted two missed calls from a private number, probably a burner phone.

  She booted up her laptop and attached it via the hardwire network cable. She opened Explorer and searched for the external backup.

  Pilar had convinced her to purchase an automated backup of her laptop to a cloud service. She knew the backup was scheduled to run the previous Sunday, and as long as her laptop was connected when it was scheduled to run, the files Pilar hid on her laptop should have been copied to the cloud.

  She didn’t know when Pilar put the files on her laptop, but she knew it had to have been before Sunday because that’s when she was most likely kidnapped.

  She found the files exactly where Pilar said they would be. Libby opened her desk drawer and rummaged until she found a flash drive. As she plugged it into the USB port, she hesitated.

  Libby knew she should stop what she was doing and call Jack. That call, though, would get the FDLE task force involved. Of course, they would pull her out and take over everything. She could use that fifty grand reward that Pilar’s father was offering. But of course, people involved in trafficking and money laundering were killers, as demonstrated by poor Richard’s throat. There was no guarantee that, even if she were able to get to Pilar, the bad guys wouldn’t kill both of them after she turned over the flash drive.

  She picked up her cell phone, ready to call Jack when a thought occurred to her. If this guy was involved in human and other types of trafficking and one of the places was from Cuba, he must know that Pilar is the daughter of an important Cuban-American. If he killed Pilar, it was very possible, a whole line of business could be compromised. Mr. Montoya probably had a lot of contacts on both sides of the Florida Straits.

  Putting her cell phone down, she began to formulate a plan. A few minutes later, she picked up her cell phone, searched through the recent calls, clicked the number and waited for him to pick up.

  “Hello, Mr. Montoya. It’s Libby Marshall. I heard from Pilar tonight, and I need your help.”

  Chapter 20

  Monday Morning – Ft. Myers, Fl
orida

  The Slip

  Libby was on the road by five o’clock the next morning. She drove to the Southwest Florida International Airport in Ft. Myers. She parked her car in long-term parking and took a bus to baggage claim. She flagged down a cab and directed the driver to take her to the dock for the Key West Express ferry.

  She knew this little ruse wouldn’t throw off anyone tracking her for long, but hoped it would buy her a little time. It had been her experience that it was much better to keep adversaries guessing. If the kidnappers still had someone watching her, she hoped they would think she was flying to Key West. They would be looking for her to get off the plane.

  She knew taking off on her own might kill any chance of a relationship with Jack, but she needed to do this. She had the flash drive, and she wanted to be the one to bring Pilar home. The files were still on her backup drive, and she would give them all to the task force when they were both safely home.

  Since this started, she was beginning to feel more alive than she’d felt since that night in the warehouse when she was shot, and her world changed forever. Her mind was sharper. She was invigorated. And yes, she was scared. But it was the adrenaline rush that came with the territory that she realized she thrived on and missed.

  Looking like any other tourist ready for a couple of days in Key West with a backpack and carry-on tote, she stood in the line to check in with the ticket she’d booked on their website the night before.

  “Name?” The ferry attendant asked.

  “O’Brien,” she answered, sliding her Ohio driver’s license to the attendant. “Mary Elizabeth.”

  She’d decided to also pull out of the box from her past her old identification, thinking it would not only buy her time with the Sarasota Police and the FDLE, at least for awhile, but it could also help her remain anonymous in Key West.

 

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