Mortal Dilemma

by H. Terrell Griffin

  “We lost track of you.” He grinned. “That problem has been remedied. Partially, anyway.”

  “You’re a dumbass, Youssef. You didn’t lose track. We outsmarted you.”

  He hit me again. This time in the stomach. I doubled over and retched. Nothing but a little acid came up, burning my already raw throat.

  “Do you know where my men are?”

  “No.” This time I was lying. They were dead. Except for the cab driver, and he’d never see daylight again. I just didn’t think this was a good time to bring it up. I mean, given my circumstances.

  “Did you capture my men in Key West?”

  “No,” I answered truthfully. Well, maybe not completely truthful, since I did get Tariq. However, I could see no good reason to explain all that to Youssef. He was mean enough already.

  “Where is Algren staying in Key West?”

  “My best guess is that he’s no longer there. As soon as he finds out that I’m missing, he’s going to be after you like a cat on a rat, pardon the expression.”

  “Good. That is my plan. To get him here.”

  “Right. All you’ve done is piss him off. And I promise you, there’s going to be hell to pay for that.”

  He slapped me on the side of my head. Not a hard blow, just sort of a good-bye pat. He and his buddy walked toward the door. “I need water,” I said. “I’m dehydrated. And a couple of aspirin if you’ve got them.”

  Youssef looked at me and smiled. “No water for you.”

  “Wait,” I said. “I’ll trade with you. Information for water.”

  “What kind of information?”

  “I’ll tell you where the woman is.” I was lying again, of course. I wasn’t sure where J.D. was but I would have bet my beloved ass that she was already looking for me. I’d take the punishment for lying to them, but it’d be worth it for one swallow of water.

  “You’ll give up your woman?”

  “Yeah. She doesn’t mean that much to me. The woman for a bottle of water. Seems like a fair trade.”

  “Tell me where she is.”

  “Water first. Besides, without water, I’ll probably die and be of no use whatsoever to you. Not even as bait.”

  Youssef said something to his buddy in Arabic and the man left the room. He returned in a couple of minutes with a bottle of water and gave it to Youssef. He came over to me, unscrewing the cap. He stood in front of me and upended the bottle, letting the water flow into my lap. Both the bastards laughed and left the room.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 7

  “THEY’RE NEARBY,” JOCK said, hanging up his cell phone. “Dave said the signal from Matt’s phone bounced off a cell tower on Cortez Road.”

  “There’s only one tower in that neighborhood, over by the fire station,” J.D. said. “It covers a pretty big section. The north end of Longboat Key, parts of Anna Maria Island, and a large part of west Bradenton east of the bay. We’re not going to narrow it down by much.”

  “It helps,” Jock said. “Depending on when they got Matt, they could have been just about anywhere. Now we know that an hour and a half ago, they were still here. They have to be holed up in a house somewhere.”

  “We’re still looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.”

  They had arrived at Matt’s house and were sitting in the car. “Yes, but we’ve narrowed down the haystacks. Has anybody made any demands?” Jock asked.

  “Not yet.” J.D. looked at her watch. “It’s been almost two hours since they sent the picture. Maybe they just did that to let us know they have him. Maybe they’ll kill him without making any demands. If they just want to hurt you.”

  “I don’t think so. If they’d wanted to kill him, they could have done it at his house. Left his body in the yard. We’ll hear from them soon. They’ll let us know what they want, and if they call again on Matt’s phone, we’ll have their location.”

  “You don’t really think they’ll use Matt’s phone again, do you? They must know that we can track it.”

  “They probably do, but they don’t understand how good our technology is. They know we have ways to track them, but they don’t understand that we can do it almost instantaneously. They try to keep their calls short so that they can’t be traced, but the second they turn that phone on, we’ll have them.”

  “What do you think they want?”

  “You, probably, and finally me. Kill Matt and you and let me live for a few days while I think about what I’ve caused. If we’re right about what they’re up to. I can’t think of any other reason they’d be after you and Matt.”

  “Matt won’t tell them where either of us is,” J.D. said.

  “I know. I wonder why they didn’t come after you before they went for Matt?”

  “Who knows?”

  “Were you home last night?”

  “Yes, but it was almost two o’clock before I got there. I spent most of the night in the office.”

  “Do we have any idea about when they took Matt?”

  “No. We’ve got cops canvassing the neighborhood. Maybe something will turn up. Maybe somebody heard something. Or saw something.”

  “It might be a good idea to have them canvass your condo neighbors as well. If they came looking for you and found you weren’t home, they might be waiting to try again later. Maybe they went after Matt when they couldn’t find you. Maybe they’re on a tight schedule.”

  “Did you know that Matt killed three of Youssef’s men and has one sitting in the Monroe County jail?”

  “I knew he killed the sniper and I met Tariq when Matt brought him to Paul’s house to interrogate him, but I didn’t know about the other two. What happened?”

  J.D. told him about Matt’s run-ins with the man in the bartender’s house and the one in the car. “Both of them tried to kill Matt, so it was self-defense, but he told me he would have killed them in cold blood if necessary. He told me they were vermin who needed to be eliminated to protect ourselves.”

  “He’s right.”

  “Do you still believe that?”

  “I do. I just don’t want to be the one doing the killing anymore.”

  Steve Carey approached the car. Jock rolled down the passenger side window. “Man, am I ever glad to see you, Jock,” Steve said. “Come on in. We’ve got coffee and donuts inside.”

  “Steve,” J.D. said. “Can you get some people over to my condo and talk to the neighbors? Will Glade, the property manager, should be there by now and he can tell them who’s in residence. There’re only thirty-eight units and a lot of them are still empty, waiting for their snowbird owners. It shouldn’t take you long.”

  “What’ll they be looking for?”

  “Jock thinks the bad guys might have come for me before they came to Matt’s house. Maybe somebody saw something.”

  “Good idea. We’ll get right on it.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 7

  DIANA WIPPERFURTH WAS in her eighties and still a glamorous woman. She carried herself with a self-assurance that beautiful women often have, a sense of confidence and composure they seem to acquire as small children. By the time they start school, that aura of confidence brightens any room they enter, and it stays with them for a lifetime. She and her husband Bill had been winter residents of Longboat Key for more than thirty-five years.

  “Come in, Officer,” Diana said.

  “Thank you. I’m Officer Steve Carey, Mrs. Wipperfurth.”

  Only ten of the units in J.D.’s condo complex were occupied, not counting the one J.D. owned and lived in. The three-story building that housed the units fronted the bay. Each unit had a deeded boat slip and shared a dock with the owner of the slip on the other side. The docks lined the edge of a channel that ran off the Intracoastal and along the perimeter of the condo property. Steve and another officer had divided the units and he was on his last one. None of the others had seen anything out of the ordinary.

  “Can I get you a cup o
f coffee, Officer?” Diana asked.

  “I could sure use one, ma’am.”

  Diana brought the coffee back and sat down. “So I hear you’re looking for somebody who may have been here last night.”

  Steve laughed. “Word travels fast around here.”

  “I saw you at Marylou Webster’s door and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t under arrest or something. So I called her.” She smiled.

  “Miss Webster’s clean. I don’t think she’s a threat to the neighborhood.”

  Diana chuckled. “I’m relieved to hear that. I did see something kind of strange last night. Well, maybe not too strange, but at least out of the ordinary.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I was up late reading, sitting out on the sunporch. It was probably about eleven thirty when I heard a boat coming up the channel. It didn’t have any lights showing and that seemed a bit odd.”

  “Could you see the boat well enough to give me a description?”

  “No. It was too dark, but it was powered by an outboard. I could tell by the sound.”

  “Single or twin?”

  “Single, I think.”

  “Could you tell how many people were aboard?”

  “Three, maybe. But I’m not sure. It was overcast last night, and dark.”

  “You’re doing good, ma’am. Did you see where they went?”

  “Are you familiar with the layout of this property?”

  “Pretty much. I’ve been here a number of times and have come into the marina area with the police boat.”

  “Well, you know how the channel curves around and passes in front of the condos next door?”

  “Yes.”

  “I lost sight of the boat when it went around that curve. I thought it was probably somebody from the other condos coming home late, but a few minutes later, I heard a noise from the parking lot. A sneeze, I think, or maybe a cough. It sounded like he tried to suppress it. I looked out the back bedroom window and saw two men walking across the lot. They were coming from the direction the boat had gone. I think they may have been the ones on the boat.”

  “Did you see where they went?”

  “That’s the funny thing. They walked all through the parking lot, like they were looking for cars, one car, maybe. At first, I thought they might be trying to steal one, but they never did anything other than look.”

  “Did you see them leave?”

  “They left the parking lot and then I heard the elevator. It only worked long enough for someone to get to the second floor.”

  “Do you think they were trying to break in?”

  “If they were, they were in for a surprise. The only way into the units on the second and third floors is through the front doors and those doors are break-in proof. I guess if one were not too concerned about a lot of noise, one might get in, but not otherwise.”

  “Did you see them again?”

  “Yes. I heard the elevator come back down to the first floor and saw the two men walking back across the parking lot. A few minutes later, I saw the boat going back up the channel. I watched until it got to the Intracoastal, and then he turned on his running lights and headed north.”

  “Did your husband see anything?”

  “Bill? He was sleeping like a log.”

  “Can you describe the men you saw in the parking lot?”

  “No. It was too dark.”

  “What about their clothes? Could you see what they were wearing?”

  “Not really. It looked like they were wearing t-shirts and long pants, maybe jeans, but I couldn’t swear to that.”

  Steve stood. “Thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Wipperfurth. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “I’ll show you out, Officer.”

  Carey met the other cop in the parking lot. He had nothing to report. None of the people he talked to had seen or heard anything. Steve told him about the boat and the men walking around the parking lot late at night.

  “You know,” the cop said, “somebody called the station this morning and reported a boat had been stolen.”

  “I hadn’t heard that. Can you get me the report?”

  “Sure. I’ll run by the station and get a printout. I’ll see you back at Matt’s house.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 7

  “THE BOAT WAS stolen sometime last night from a dock at Cannons Marina,” Steve Carey told Jock and J.D. “She’s a thirty-foot Grady-White center console that was at Cannons for its annual maintenance.”

  “The way that place is lit up at night, I’m surprised anybody could get in to steal it,” J.D. said. “You know David Miller’s people wouldn’t leave the keys in the boat.”

  “If Youssef stole the boat, he had to have had help,” Jock said. “He wouldn’t know anything about boats, much less how to hotwire one, if that’s what they did. And he sure as hell couldn’t navigate one.”

  “You know the canal that goes up to Cannons is just around the corner from my place,” J.D. said, “and the men Diana saw sneaking around the parking lot could very well have been the terrorists. Maybe they had somebody who knows how to steal boats to help them and they came directly to my place from Cannons.”

  “Why go to all that trouble?” Steve asked. “If they were looking for you why not just come by car?”

  “Because,” said Jock, “they’re holed up somewhere accessible only by water.”

  “Good call, Jock,” Steve said. “I’ll get our marine unit to look for the stolen boat and ask Manatee County for help. They’ve got several boats at Coquina Beach. We can probably get the Longboat Fire Department’s boat as well.”

  “Tell them about the cell phone call that bounced off the tower at the Cortez Road fire station,” J.D. said. “That narrows down the scope of the search.”

  “Don’t use the radio,” Jock said. “They could be monitoring it.”

  Steve held up his cell phone and walked off. He was back in a minute. “The deputy chief is calling in favors from the Manatee sheriff and the fire department. What do you think the bad guys were doing, Jock?”

  “I think they planned to come in and take J.D., then go to Matt’s place, get him, and head for wherever they’re hiding out. They were in the parking lot looking for J.D.’s car to make sure she was at home. Maybe they went upstairs to see if they could break into her unit and discovered they couldn’t do that without a lot of noise. If she wasn’t home, she’d probably be at Matt’s. At least they’d know they had to be ready to handle two dangerous people at Matt’s. They couldn’t have known that J.D. was working late at the station.”

  “Even if I had been home,” J.D. said, “how would they have gotten me out of my condo without making a lot of noise?”

  “Maybe that wasn’t the plan,” Jock said. “Maybe they were going to put a bomb in your car and then kill Matt at his house. That would have accomplished their plan. Both of you dead and me left to mourn and blame myself. They leave in the boat and the police would be looking for a car. But who knows what those idiots were thinking?”

  “Then why take Matt alive?” Steve asked.

  “They don’t know what kind of man he is,” J.D. said. “They probably thought they could get to me through him. That he’d tell them how. Or maybe they thought I’d come to his rescue and they’d have me.”

  “They wouldn’t expect you to come to the rescue,” Jock said. “In their culture, women cook, clean, and raise children. They don’t drive cars and rescue lovers. They’re betting Matt will put you in their sights. When they figure out he won’t, they’ll kill him.”

  * * *

  A lot had happened in a short time, but now it was nearing nine thirty in the morning and it seemed as if everything had come to a dead stop. J.D. was antsy, her nerves frayed from worry about what was happening to Matt. She knew that time was short. If they didn’t find him soon they would be looking for his body. It’d be what the Coast Guard called a recovery operation rather than a search for survivors.

/>   She was sitting on the living room sofa, thinking about how many nights she and Matt had spent snuggling there, talking about their days, sharing a bottle of wine or a pizza or a real meal, watching the night descend. Happy evenings. Were they over?

  Steve Carey interrupted her reverie. “J.D., we may have found the boat.”

  “That was quick.”

  “If it’s the right boat. It’s docked at Jewfish Key.”

  “You said if.”

  “The registration numbers are different, but they could have been altered. Our marine guy saw the numbers, but he didn’t get a close enough look to tell if they had been changed. He didn’t want to pay too much attention in case somebody was watching. But the description fits the stolen boat.”

  “Is the boat at the common dock?”

  “Yeah. But I don’t think any of the residents are on the island. They usually let us know when they show up, and we haven’t heard from any of them.”

  “They must be in one of the houses. They’re six of them out there. We can’t go storming all six. We’ve got to sneak up on them or they’ll kill Matt.”

  “The sheriff’s helicopters have thermal imaging capabilities,” Steve said. “We could have them do a flyover and find out if any of the houses have people in them.”

  “That’ll work. There’s enough helicopter activity in this area that the bad guys won’t think anything about another one flying over.”

  “I’ll get the sheriff’s people moving.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 7

  I HAD NO concept of time. I didn’t know how long I’d been tied to the chair, but logic told me it was still the same day that I’d been kidnapped. I was not particularly hungry when I regained consciousness, and if I’d been out long enough to have traveled a long distance, I’d most likely have been hungry. I’d heard the diesel boat earlier and over the next couple of hours I’d heard the occasional outboard engine running at high speed. Gulls cried in the distance, their squawking music to my ears. All of the signs meant that I was probably still in Florida. Maybe close to home.