"We know what it means, Car ... sorry, Angela. My godfather in Miami told me about him. Please, go ahead."
"I was telling the truth about him making me marry the guy called Joe Bones. His real name is Giuseppe Bruni, and he's tagged to take Papa's place. My boyfriend, John Welsh, really was Ralph's college roommate, and he and I want to get married. Papa was adamant that if I married outside the 'family,' the others — the other capos, that is — would kill me and my husband. Maybe Papa, too. Because I know too much about too many things."
"I see." Dani said. "I would have thought he would have protected you from hearing all that secret 'family' stuff."
"Well, I think he tried, but I was a precocious child, and I grew up right in the middle of all of it. I mean, I wasn't privy to big secrets, but I can name off his associates and their underlings without even thinking about it."
"I guess that makes sense," Dani said, a faraway look in her eyes. "So what brought all this to a head right now?"
"Papa's health is failing, for one thing. I think that's what triggered this. And I overheard him order someone to 'take care of the chickenshit kid; he's in the way.' That's what he calls John. So I sent Ralph a message, asking him to help us get away, and here we are."
"Tell me about Ralph," Dani said.
"What about him?"
"Where does he fit into this?"
"I'm not sure what you're asking. I mean, you know him. He set this all up. What do you want me to tell you? He said you would — "
"Relax. He said we'd help you, right?"
"Yes."
"We will. At least, I think I speak for both of us." Dani looked at Liz.
Liz nodded. "Of course we will."
"I'm not sure what Ralph thought you could do. I mean, you're nice people, but my father's a cold-blooded killer. And I wasn't kidding about Giuseppe Bruni being a psychopath. I told Ralph I thought he was wrong to get you mixed up in this. He said something about calling in a favor. I said he was asking you to commit suicide. I don't want you to — "
"We'll be okay," Liz said.
"Whatever favor you owe him, it's not worth your lives. Not to me, anyhow."
"Did he tell you anything about Martinez?"
"No. He said to ask you about that."
"Martinez was working for Hugo Chavez, planning terrorist strikes in the U.S. One of our guests got fouled up in his plot by accident. That's how I met Ralph; I was looking for information on Martinez," Dani explained.
"But you said Ralph was in the Venezuelan Marines, Dani. Why would he help you?"
"That's a good question. I don't know the answer, but he did. Is he still in the Venezuelan military?"
"I didn't know he ever was. He doesn't tell me things like that. It surprised me when you said that."
"How do you communicate with him?"
"There's this email account he set up. It's on some kind of encrypted server. We don't actually send emails. We share the account; we both have the password. I go on there and write to him and save the message as a draft. He checks it when he can, and after he's read the draft, he deletes it. He does the same thing to send me a message. He said that since it was never sent, it would be almost impossible to trace."
"When was the last time you saw him?" Dani asked.
"When he finished college, right before he went in the Navy."
"Which Navy?"
"The U.S. Navy. He got a commission when he graduated, and he went to SEAL training."
"He was a SEAL?" Dani asked.
"No. I mean, I don't think so. He disappeared during the training. The Navy sent people around looking for him; they pretended he went AWOL, but none of us believed it. He was totally committed to the Navy. That's why it shocked me so when you told me about him being in the Venezuelan military. It just doesn't track."
"No, it doesn't," Dani said, scratching the back of her neck.
"About that Martinez person? Ralph called him a terrorist, and you did too, just now."
"That's right," Dani said.
"What happened to him?"
"Somebody shot him dead," Liz said, avoiding Carlotta's eye.
Dani smiled. "He messed with the wrong woman. Tried to surrender, but she wasn't taking prisoners."
Liz glared at Dani, alarm on her face, and shook her head.
Angela's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, her curiosity plain. When neither said anything else, she said, "Anyway, Ralph said he was confident that you could keep me safe."
"We'll do our best," Liz said. "Cocktails before dinner, anyone?"
****
Guido's phone rang as he was savoring a snifter of brandy and musing over what had happened to Joe Bones. He glanced at the caller i.d. and pressed the connect icon.
"Talk to me, Fats."
"Good evening, Don Guido. I have something. Angela boarded a flight this afternoon to San Juan with a connection through to São Paulo. Gets in tomorrow morning, with a stop in Bogotá."
"São Paulo! Brazil?"
"Yes, Don Guido."
'What the hell's she doin'? She don't know anybody in Brazil. You sure about that?"
"Yes. The gate agent pulled up the record; passport number matches. It had to be her."
"When did she leave St. Thomas?"
"Not long after Joe Bones got shot. Coupla hours, maybe. He said the broad that shot him said it was too bad he missed Angela. Guess she musta been there at the resort earlier."
"Shit. How come he didn't tell us that sooner?"
"He's doped up. He don't know if he's comin' or goin'. Every so often, he wakes up and babbles some more about the broad that shot him."
"You got anybody there speaks Portuguese, Fats?"
"No. Be quicker to send somebody from Miami, anyway. You can get a direct flight from there; it saves several hours. I checked."
"Good work. I'll call Franco. Maybe he's got somebody."
"Yeah, he does. Juju Gonzales. Kid that used to run stuff around the islands for me. Remember?"
"No, but thanks, Fats."
"No problem, Don Guido."
"Where's Joe Bones?"
"Asleep."
"Good." Guido disconnected and scrolled through the directory screen until he found Franco Andretti's number.
Chapter 11
"Don Guido?" Joe Bones asked when he heard the call connect.
"Yeah. What'sa matter?"
"I heard from Atlanta."
"Good. Where is he?"
"He just caught a flight out of Hartsfield-Jackson. He's on his way to Antigua."
"Antigua, huh? Then why the hell did Angela fly to São Paulo?"
"Beats me, Don Guido. Maybe she booked something else out of San Juan. Just did the other to throw us off."
"Shit. You're right. Reservations mean nothin'. She could be on a private plane," Guido said. "When's he gonna get to Antigua?"
"That's the good news. He's got a two-hour layover in Miami. He's on a late flight out. I'm gonna arrange — "
"Never mind. I'll take care of him. You get busy figuring out how the hell Angela's gonna get to Antigua."
"I figured Welsh could tell us where he's gonna meet up with her, and we could intercept her there. Much cleaner than trying to find out how she's gettin' there."
"Yeah. Good idea. I'll arrange for the boys to have a little chat with him while he's waitin' for his flight."
"Um, I didn't figure he was gonna make his connection, Don Guido."
"You are one dumb fucker, Giuseppe. What kinda fool you take me for?"
"I — "
"Shut up. You're just gonna dig yourself in deeper. Take Willy with you on the plane."
"Plane? I don't understand."
"You and Willy charter a plane and get your asses to Antigua. Leave Fats there to mind the store. And keep your phone on. I'll get word to you soon as we find out where the rendezvous is."
Guido disconnected the call without waiting for an answer. He scrolled through the directory screen and
touched a name, waiting while the phone rang.
"Yeah?"
"Next flight in from Atlanta. Get him out of the airport the usual way. You know where to take him?" Guido asked.
"Yeah."
"Go easy on the injection; we gotta ask him some questions quick, so don't let him get too sleepy."
"No problem; he'll be wide awake for you."
Guido grinned. He liked working with the old pros. There was none of the bullshit that he had to put up with from the young lions like Joe Bones. They just kept their mouths shut and did what he told them to do.
****
John Welsh was already in an 'island' state of mind. He felt a wave of relaxation sweep over him as soon as he buckled his seat belt. He was escaping the 80-hour-a-week grind of being a senior associate striving to make partner. But the best part was that he was going to spend some serious time with Angela. The thought of being alone with her on a yacht in the islands made him forget all his anxiety about their relationship.
She'd been ready to tie the knot for a while now, but she respected his need to build his net worth. She said it didn't matter, but he wanted to be able to keep her in designer clothes and expensive jewelry. It might not matter to her, but he didn't want her to sacrifice her comfortable life on his account. He drifted off to sleep with visions of her cavorting on a deserted beach. He dreamed they were watching seagulls circling just beyond the breaking waves.
He awakened with a start when the plane's landing gear locked in the down position. That had become his alarm clock since he'd started spending so much time flying. He'd learned to make the most of the down-time while he traveled.
As the plane jerked to a stop at the gate, the chime sounded as the seatbelt sign blinked out. Taking advantage of his aisle seat, he stood up, turning to open the overhead bin. He retrieved his small duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder as he stretched his cramped muscles. Soon, the passengers began shuffling toward the exit door. He nodded an acknowledgement to the flight attendant as she thanked him for his patronage.
The air-conditioned chill gave way to the hot, humid air of Miami as he stepped into the jet way. He broke out of the herd and headed for the concourse. Once outside the gate area, he looked around for a screen with connecting flight information. A uniformed customer service representative intercepted him.
"Connection, sir?" she asked, giving him a big smile.
He grinned at her; she was an attractive girl, and he was in a flirtatious mood.
"Maybe," he said. "I've got a couple of hours. What did you have in mind?" He winked. "Just kidding," he said, before she could react. "I'm going to Antigua to see my fiancée."
"You'll have a great time. My husband and I were just there. You want gate 34B, just down the concourse."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome, sir. Have a nice flight and a good stay in Antigua."
He started walking in the direction she had indicated. He paused after a few steps when a man in a well-tailored dark suit stepped in front of him, his hand extended to shake. It was a reflex action for John to take the stranger's hand.
"John Welsh?" the man asked. "Right? You may not remember me, but — "
John felt a pinch on the back of his left arm, and his vision rolled. He felt his knees go weak, and the next thing he knew he was in a wheelchair. The wheelchair sped down the concourse, the two EMTs with him weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
"Wha ... h-h-hap …" he shook his head in frustration at his inability to speak.
The EMT walking next to the wheelchair put a hand on his shoulder. "You're okay, Mr. Welsh. Don't worry; everything's going to be all right," she said. "Just relax, sir. We're going to take good care of you."
****
"Where's Joe Bones?" Guido asked.
"He's hobbling along on his damn crutches. I gotta get his bag. Hang on a second," Willy said, with a grunt. "What the fuck's he got in there, any way? Feels like a damn bowling ball."
"Don't ask me, Willy."
"We're at the taxi stand outside the airport. Where we goin' now, Don Guido?"
"Don't matter right now, long as you're in Antigua. You got some time to kill. Welsh said he had a reservation someplace near Jolly Harbour for tonight. The Villas at Morris Bay. She ain't gonna meet him until day after tomorrow. Find yourselves somewhere to stay. Best if you're close by a place called Deep Bay. Dumb fucker didn't know shit; he just does what she tells him. He's supposed to be on the beach at Deep Bay at 8 o'clock in the morning, day after tomorrow. She's gonna pick him up there. You better get some local help; call that guy we use for the shipments. You got his number?"
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
"Good. You need enough people with wheels to seal off that beach. We don't know where she's comin' from. I looked on Google Earth. Looks like only one road goes in there, so you should be able to snatch her easy enough. Better not to do it on the beach. Too much chance of somebody seein' what's goin' down. Catch her when she's comin' in or leavin'."
"Okay. He didn't know where she's stayin'?"
"No. They're chartering a yacht there. Best we can figure, the likely spots for that are English Harbour or Falmouth Harbour. Jolly Harbour's possible, but most of the crewed charters work out of the other places. I been tryin' to get a line on the yacht. I can't figure how the hell she did that without leaving a money trail."
"Maybe he did it, Don Guido."
'Nah. He ain't got the bucks for it. Don't matter, anyway. She'll be on the beach. Just catch up with her there."
Chapter 12
Dani and Liz were up as the dawn's first light crept over the bay of Anse Colombier. Before the sun came over the ridgeline, they had the mainsail and the mizzen hoisted. Dani unfurled the staysail as Liz cast off the mooring pennant. Once she dropped the pennant, Liz took the staysail sheets in her hand. Stepping to the side, she pulled them to the port side of the foredeck, backwinding the sail in the gentle breeze. Dani watched as the bow blew off to the starboard. When the bow pointed about 45 degrees to the breeze, she waved at Liz. Liz dropped the sheets and came back to the cockpit as Dani sheeted in the staysail. She returned to the helm as Liz began paying out the main and mizzen sheets, and in under a minute, Vengeance began to pick up speed. The light breeze on their port quarter was barely discernible over the deck as the boat's speed approached that of the wind.
As they passed Île Petit Jean at the south side of the bay's mouth, the wind built. They unfurled the Yankee jib and trimmed the other sails. In minutes, they were making six knots on a course that paralleled the southwest coast of St. Barth. In less than an hour, they rounded Grande Pointe on the southernmost corner of the island. Then they felt the full 20 knots of the trade wind that blew from the east-northeast. They trimmed the sails for the wind shift and took up a course of 135 degrees, bound for Antigua. Vengeance's gentle motion gave way to a rhythmic surge, spray flying as her bow parted the swells.
"Well done," Dani said, reaching for the mug of coffee that Liz had poured from their thermos. She took a sip and put the cup down on the seat beside her as she stood up and scanned the horizon, checking for other boats. "Looks like we've got it to ourselves," she said, and sat down again.
"Perfect," Liz said. "Look at that sunrise; what a way to start a day!"
The sunrise appeared as a ball of golden-red fire. A dazzling column of reflected light connected them to the spot where the sun's lower limb kissed the horizon.
"I've never seen anything like that," Angela said. She had popped her head out the companionway as she paused on the ladder, bracing herself against the boat's pitching.
"Sorry we woke you," Liz said. "We tried to be quiet."
"Oh, I didn't hear anything. It was the change in motion that woke me up. I never even heard you start the engine."
"That's because we sailed off the mooring," Liz said.
"Wish I had been up to see that. I'm amazed, with all the other boats in there. It must have been tricky, huh?"
"How long will it take us to get there?"
"If this wind holds, and it should, we'll get in around five," Liz said.
"Early enough to anchor in the daylight, with luck," Dani added, "but not early enough to clear in. We'll have to do that in the morning."
"Where are we meeting John, anyway?" Liz asked.
"Ralph told me to set it up for early morning on the beach at a place called Deep Bay, so I did. Can we make that?"
"Sure. Deep Bay's no problem," Dani said. "How early in the morning?"
"At 8 a.m."
"That's going to be a problem," Liz said. "We won't be able to get there that early."
"Can't we go there tonight?" Angela asked, looking perplexed.
"We have to clear into the country with customs and immigration first thing," Dani said. "The quickest place to do that is Jolly Harbour, which isn't far from Deep Bay. The problem is, we'll get in after they close for the day. They won't be open in the morning in time for us to get to Deep Bay before, say, about 10:30 or 11:00 in the morning."
"I'm sorry, Angela. We should have asked earlier," Liz said.
"Oh, it'll be okay. I should call him, though, and let him know. The only thing is, there may be more people around then. Ralph suggested earlier in the day to avoid people seeing us."
"That should still work out all right, if you can change the pickup time. We'll drop the anchor well out in the bay and zip in with the dinghy; it'll be quick, and Vengeance won't be too visible from the beach," Dani said. "Besides, there'll be a lot of boats and dinghies. We'll be lost in the crowd, even if somebody's watching him."
"Will I be able to use your satellite phone? Ralph suggested that I turn off my cell phone and leave the SIM chip out of it so nobody could track me with it."
"Good idea," Dani said. "Not a problem with our satellite phone."
"You want it now?" Liz asked.
"No, not now. He was getting in late last night. I'll let him sleep and call him this afternoon."
****
Guido looked at the caller i.d. on his phone before he decided to interrupt his second cup of coffee. Seeing that the caller was Franco Andretti, the guy who ran his operations in Miami, he opted to take the call. Franco was one of the old school soldiers, though he wasn't much older than Joe Bones. Unlike the Ivy League boys, he never wasted Guido's time. They shared the bond of having come up through the organization the old-fashioned way.
Bluewater Rendezvous: The Eighth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 8) Page 7