Last Ride on the Merry-go-round

by Judith Rochelle

  "People come out here to dive a lot further out,” he told her. “But nobody comes into this inlet unless they have monkey business in mind. And we'll be able to see them in plenty of time. We won't raise any eyebrows. You just keep relaxing while I make some phone calls."

  So she stayed in place on the padded bench, letting the tropical sun warm her, hoping it would reach the chill deep inside of her. She actually felt herself about to doze off when she heard Dino's footsteps as he came down the stairs from the cockpit.

  "I think someone wants to talk to you.” He grinned, holding out the sat phone.

  She put the phone to her ear with a hand that shook slightly. “Hello?"

  "Mommy?"

  Jen squeezed her eyes hard to stem the tears that clouded them. “Hi, sweetie. How are you? Are you doing okay?"

  "I'm fine. Are you all right? I miss you."

  Jen couldn't believe the energy in the voice, the difference from yesterday when Deanne would hardly say a word. When all she could manage were tears. Lisa and Ethan must be miracle workers.

  "Yes. I miss you, too, but otherwise I'm great."

  "Jamie's parents are being very nice to me. Jamie is too. And Mommy?"

  "Yes, baby?"

  "They promised no one would ever hurt me. Mr. Caine gave me his special word."

  Jen bit her lip, tears stinging her nose and clogging her throat. She had to take two or three deeps breaths before she could continue.

  "That's right. That's absolutely right. And he always keeps his promises. You just do what they say and you'll be fine."

  "Mommy?” The voice took on a plaintive note. “When can I see you again?"

  "Soon. I promise."

  "As soon as the bad men go away?"

  "Yes, honey. That's right. You be a good girl for your ... for Jamie's parents and I'll talk to you again tomorrow."

  She handed the phone to Dino, unable to continue. He walked away, obviously giving her time to collect herself.

  "Yeah, we'll be out here for a while,” she heard him say in a low voice. “I'm still waiting for a callback from someone who owes me large, plus I've got some other hooks out. We'll just hang out here and grab some sun. Be away from people. Yeah. Okay. Later."

  When he walked back and sat down beside her, Jen had managed to turn off the waterworks and even arrange her lips in a weak smile.

  "I think you only get a C for that smile,” he joked.

  "I promise I'll do better.” She twisted her hands together, looking down at them in her lap. “Thanks. For the call, I mean. Talking to Deanne really helps."

  He reached up and stroked her cheek softly with the backs of his fingers. When she flinched subconsciously, his eyes widened a fraction, but he withdrew his hand without making a fuss or asking her questions.

  "They'll take good care of her, Jen. I know it's hard being away from her, but it's for the best. We'll get this resolved as fast as we can. Count on it."

  "Dino?"

  "Yeah?” He was concentrating on pouring two soft drinks for them, handing one to her.

  "What else did you and Ethan talk about? You've been busier than a long distance operator on that phone since we got into open waters."

  "I've got two people in Detroit working on this, picking up the threads Jack Smiley was following,” he answered. “These are not nice people who are after you, Jen, but I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

  "No, you don't.” She closed her eyes as the feeling of panic threatened to race over her again.

  "Hey, hey, hey.” Dino slid onto the cushion next to her and took her free hand. “It's okay. You're okay. Deanne's okay. And we'll get this handled."

  Jen took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Have they found out anything else?"

  Dino released her hand, leaned back against the gunwale and took a swallow of his soft drink before answering. “They've got themselves in a bind,” he told her. “With John dead there's no way to ship any of the stolen items through the museum anymore. They can't exactly ask the assistant director to step into an illegal activity. And it would certainly raise eyebrows for the Chairman of the Board to decide to check in shipments himself. So I've got people looking at what they might use as alternatives."

  He might have said more but the phone in his hand buzzed. He looked at the number on the readout and stood up.

  "I have to take this in private, Jen. I'll be right back."

  * * * *

  "I thought maybe you were dead,” he told his caller.

  "It takes more than most people have got to kill Martin Van Dine. How the hell are you?"

  "How are you? And how come it took you so long to call me back?"

  "You of all people should know I can't be too careful about things. I wanted to make sure it was really you.” His laugh was anything but humorous. “But persistence pays off, my friend."

  "I'm hardly your friend,” Dino growled. “But I need a favor and you owe me one."

  The man's voice sobered. “Yes. I do. So what is it you need?"

  Dino explained the situation in Michigan and the stolen antiquities operation. “I need you to find out who the middle man is over there and what arrangements are now being made to ship things since the pipeline's broken. And especially any chatter about who's heading up the whole thing."

  "Ah, antiquities. More lucrative right now than blood diamonds. People made millions from the huge theft that was in all the papers not too long ago."

  "I thought everything was recovered, though."

  "Propaganda,” Van Dine told him. “A political statement. Only a third of them made it back to the museum. There are still a number of pieces floating around. This is a very nasty business, Brancuzzi."

  "Don't I know it."

  "Especially when you realize where the money is going and what's being done with it."

  Dino shoved his free hand in his pocket. The knot in his stomach was growing larger by the minute. “I need whatever information you can get for me, and I need it yesterday. Otherwise some people who have nothing to do with this will end up dead."

  The same humorless chuckle echoed over the connection. “Someone got to you in your old age, did they? I can hardly believe it. The lone eagle is getting his wings clipped."

  "Not at all,” Dino denied. “Just helping a friend. So can you do this or not?"

  "Give me a day and I'll get back to you. Will this number still be secure?"

  "Even more so than yours. I'll expect to hear from you."

  He disconnected the call and rubbed his forehead. If anyone could get him information, Van Dine could. And he needed all the help he could reach out to if he expected to keep Jen safe.

  Jen. How had she suddenly become more than a project? Was Van Dine right? Was his carefully constructed solitude starting to shatter?

  Jesus. What was he supposed to do if it did?

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eight

  While Dino finished making his phone calls and did whatever else he had to, Jen stretched out on the wide bench, tucked a loose cushion behind her head and closed her eyes. She hadn't expected to fall asleep, but the heat of the sun and swaying motion of the boat were so soothing, so calming, that she drifted off without realizing it. When a hand touched her shoulder her eyes popped open without seeing and she screamed as she rolled over onto the floor. Pulse racing, she struggled to her feet. Then warm hands took her shoulders and a familiar voice cut into her panic.

  "Easy, easy.” Dino's voice was warm and soothing, like melted chocolate. He eased her back onto the bench and sat beside her, taking one of her hands lightly in his and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “It's just me."

  "I'm sorry. I guess I was just dreaming again and you ... startled me."

  Good going, Jen. Much more of this and he'll be convinced you're a certifiable nut and dump you back on Ethan's doorstep.

  "I'm sorry,” she repeated, rubbing her face as if she could scrub the memories away.

&n
bsp; "No problem.” Dino slid his arm casually along the railing behind her, the fingers of his hand just resting on the nape of her neck. Testing her reaction, she knew, as aware as she was of whatever this was building between them. His touch felt good, soothing, and when he began to lightly massage the muscles that were tense and knotted, she leaned back into his touch, feeling the tension begin to slip away.

  "You're too good to me,” she told him. “Why are you even putting up with a nutcase like me?"

  A low chuckle rumbled from his throat. “You're too hard on yourself, Jen. What you've been through would send most people into a total collapse. You kept your head. Figured out where you needed to go for help. And took care of your daughter."

  "I don't deserve your compliment but I'll take it."

  "Good. Now, how about some lunch? I brought a cooler full of goodies."

  Surprisingly, she was hungry. “That would be nice. Can I help?"

  "Nope.” He gave her neck one last gentle squeeze before getting to his feet. “Got it covered. I'll yell when it's ready.” He ran the backs of his fingers along the line of her jaw. “No more nightmares, okay?"

  She shivered. “God, I hope not."

  "Let me get the food out. I always believe a full stomach takes care of anything."

  When she followed him below she couldn't restrain the gasp of surprise. “My God, this is like something out of the movies."

  The salon looked like the sitting room of a suite, paneled in expensive fiddleback burled walnut like she'd seen in the home of one of the museum directors. Deep chairs and a couch were upholstered in tweeds of earth tones. A bar took up part of one wall and a granite dining table fit against another. Beyond, she could see the open doors to the staterooms.

  "I don't think anyone I know could afford one of your charters,” she told him with a rueful grin.

  "All part of the image,” he reminded her.

  But as he opened the built-in fridge to take out the food he'd stored there, his sat phone buzzed against his hip. His eyes widened a fraction as he read the number.

  "I need to take this alone,” he apologized.

  "No problem. I'll wait up on deck."

  * * * *

  Charlie Waters had hightailed it back to his hidey-hole, taking every precaution he'd learned in his misbegotten life to make sure no one was following him. Once he was safely secured, he checked again to make sure his previous cargo was safe. His hands trembled as he unwrapped the yards of burlap cushioning each one in the padded box.

  Most of the objects he traded in didn't impress Charlie one way or another. They were simply a conduit for cash. But these! These were pieces of history in more ways than one.

  His hands caressed the gypsum statue of an ancient worshipper, the grey stone spouted jar inlaid with limestone. His fingers danced on the surface of the ivory head of a woman. But the thing that made his mouth water was the intricately designed gold mask. Gold! Even Charlie was impressed with that. And with the fact that each of these items was more than three thousand years old.

  Reminding himself of the source of these items, and the danger to him as long as they were in his possession, he rewrapped them very carefully and locked them in the box, hiding it in the hole in the dirt floor and covering it over as he'd done before.

  Those people better tell him where to take it for shipment pretty damn soon or he was going to find himself another buyer. Hopefully before he got killed.

  As he was reviewing possible alternatives in his mind, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He snatched it out and flipped it open.

  "You'd better have some answers for me,” he greeted the caller.

  "It's taken care of. We're using the same shipper, just a different delivery address."

  "How's that gonna work? You don't want this stuff opened by customs."

  "I've taken care of that. Here's what I want you to do."

  * * * *

  "You've got a tiger by the tail this time,” Martin Van Dine told Dino. His voice was tight with urgency. “I don't know how the hell you stepped in this one, but I sure hope you're in good standing with Uncle Sam if you get caught."

  Dino felt a tiny knot twist itself in his stomach. “What the hell do you mean?"

  "The stolen artifacts market is risky enough, but this...” Van Dine's voice trailed off.

  "This what?” Dino prompted. “What's got you so spooked?"

  "Something I don't even want to discuss over a secure phone. We'll have to meet. And bring a bagful of money, because once I tell you what I found out, I'll have to disappear for a long time."

  "Van Dine, what the hell is going on? And where are we supposed to meet?"

  "Where are you right now? Key West?"

  Dino frowned. “Why would you ask that?"

  "Jesus, Brancuzzi. The fact that you run a charter out of the keys isn't exactly a secret. Just not too many people know some of your charters don't involve fish."

  Of course. He wasn't exactly hiding under a rock. He was just getting that itch on the back of his neck again. Something was very wrong here.

  "Okay. Here it is.” He gave the man the coordinates of their location. “But don't think I'm going to wait around here if you're sending someone to knock us off."

  Van Dine grunted. “Even I'm not stupid enough to try something like that. Your friend Ethan Caine would follow me to hell. All right, it shouldn't take you long to get to the spot where I want you to meet me.” He reeled off his own numbers. “Midnight. Turn off all the lights, including the running lights. I'll find you. And bring a million dollars in cash."

  "Wait. How the hell am I supposed to get that much cash and meet you in time?"

  "You'll figure it out. You always do."

  * * * *

  "Do you have something?” Mac asked Grant, leaning back in his chair, phone tucked into the crook of his neck. Unlike the previous jobs he'd hired the man for, this time he seemed to be stymied. Unable to dig up the information he needed.

  "Maybe. Maybe not. I decided the thing to do was dig a little harder into Jennifer Sutherland's background. I think that's where we'll start to find some answers. A woman like her doesn't just disappear without some expert help."

  "And?” Mac tapped a pen irritably on his desk top.

  "It seems before she met Sutherland she ran with a pretty wild crowd. We're trying to get the names of all of them and see who she might still be in contact with.” Grant cleared his throat. “We're making a little headway but something's goofy here."

  Mac sat up in his chair, tossing the pen on the surface of the desk. “Goofy? What do you mean, goofy?"

  "We managed to dig up a couple of names, but no one's heard from Jennifer and they're not giving out any information about anyone else. Funny thing, Mac. It's almost as if they're more scared of the people she knew than they are of us."

  "How is that possible? She's just some dumb broad who latched onto Sutherland for his paycheck and security."

  "Mmmm, I don't know.” Grant's skepticism was obvious even over the cell phone connection. “I think we've been taking her too lightly. Hell, she might even be the one who convinced Sutherland to steal those two pieces."

  "Shit.” Mac rose from his chair and began pacing the floor of his office. “You've got to find out who those people are. I'll bet my left nut she's run to one of them. Do whatever you have to.” He waved his hand in the air. “Hell, make an example of one of them."

  "I told you,” Grant reminded him. “We're the last people they're scared of."

  "Then figure something out,” Mac spit out. “And do it quickly."

  * * * *

  "E? You still there?” Dino shook the phone, glancing over his shoulder at Jen. She was sitting on the cushions, watching him, a look of curiosity on her face.

  "Yeah, I'm still here. A million bucks, huh?"

  "Uh huh. But from him it will be worth it."

  "I just wonder what Martin Van Dine, the man with twenty-nine lives, has to sell that's wor
th so much money."

  "Don't know, but I'll tell you this much. He sounded panicked. And Van Dine didn't even panic when I had an AK 47 pointed up his left nostril."

  "I can't imagine what there is about stolen antiquities to make him twitch. I thought the man had ice water in his veins."

  "There's something about these particular pieces,” Dino guessed. “That's all I can figure. But what would make them so special? People have been looting architectural digs and museums for centuries. The process has just gotten a little more sophisticated in the past few years."

  "Well, while you and Jen are lazing around on the water down there, let me see what I can do about getting your money together. And maybe doing a little more research on the underground marketplace. Maybe something will pop up."

  "I'll call Mike and have him get in touch with you. He's our best bet for quick delivery."

  "All right. Get back to me when you've got a time frame."

  "Dino?"

  "Yeah?"

  "How's Jen doing?"

  Dino snorted. “Other than the fact that she's skating this side of a nervous breakdown and misses her daughter, I'd say she's doing great. She's got plenty of guts, I'll say that for her."

  "She hasn't...” Ethan stopped and cleared his throat. “She hasn't had an easy life. That's probably why she jumped at what Sutherland had to offer. I'd like to see her come out of this with a good future for the two of them."

  Dino looked at the phone as if the person on the other end had just spoken to him in an unknown language. “Are you giving me background or warning me off?"

  "Neither. Just ... pointing something out."

  "I don't suppose the fact that she's the mother of your daughter has anything to do with your concern.” He glanced at Jen again, smiled and held up one finger to tell her he'd be done in a minute.

  "And if it does?” Ethan's voice had turned hard.

  Dino made his own voice softer. “Then I'd say it's normal for you to be concerned. But don't worry about Jen. She'll be aces high when this is over."

  "Dino, listen..."