Last Ride on the Merry-go-round

by Judith Rochelle

  The next moment, the Yamahas turned over again. Dino must have pushed the throttles full forward because the boat leaped ahead, bouncing along the waves caused by the explosion and racing at top speed away from the site.

  * * * *

  "Is it done?"

  The man who'd planted the bomb gripped his telephone with sweat-slicked hands and tried to pull his shaking body together. “Van Dine is dead."

  "And the man he was meeting with? Did you take care of him also?"

  The man hesitated, hating the news he had to deliver. “The bomb exploded while Van Dine's boat was still too far away. The boat I had following Van Dine said the driver of the big boat fired up his engines and got the hell out of there so fast my man didn't even have time to get on his tail."

  "Shit. Double shit. How did that happen? Did the bomb exploded prematurely?"

  The man wiped his other sweaty palm on his pant leg. “I think Van Dine's target moved his boat from the coordinates he was given."

  "And just why in the hell would he do that? Did you do anything to make him suspicious?"

  The man was sweating freely now. “No. He doesn't even know about me so that's not a possibility. I think he's just inherently suspicious and has some kind of built-in radar. I have a bad feeling about who that man was. A very bad feeling."

  "And now he's gone. Out of reach.” Silence hummed along the connection. “Do you think Van Dine gave him any hint of the information he had to pass along?"

  "No. I don't think so. He wanted his money first."

  "All right. I need to meet with my people. I'll get back to you."

  "What shall I do?” Something to redeem myself. Please. This wasn't a man one wanted to piss off.

  "Find out who the hell was on that other boat. I don't care who you have to pay or how much."

  "I'll get on it right away.” Although just how in the hell I'm going to do that I have no clue.

  "I'll call you tomorrow at the usual time, so you'd better get busy and have some answers for me."

  * * * *

  Jen huddled down in the salon for what seemed like an interminable time, afraid to come out on deck, afraid to stay where she was, wondering what the hell was going on. Finally Dino throttled the motors back and apparently put them on idle, because in a moment he was below deck beside her.

  "It's okay,” he soothed, prying her hands away from the door frame. “We're far enough away from the spot. Come up to the cockpit with me."

  "But what...?"

  "I'll tell you. Just come on up with me. Come on, baby. It's okay."

  He soothed her as one would a child, and truthfully, at the moment that was exactly what she felt like. She clutched his hand as he guided her up onto the deck, then up the few steps to the cockpit. There were two captain's chairs up there, and she sank gratefully into one of them.

  Dino checked the water around them, then turned to look at her. “We have to get moving again, but we'll be okay. I promise."

  "What happened, Dino? That man's boat blew up."

  Dino's face was etched with grim lines. “And if I hadn't moved ours earlier we'd have been splinters just like him."

  "You knew,” she whispered, swallowing the nausea rising in her throat.

  "No. Just ... wanted to be prepared. A little habit I've picked up over the years that's kept me alive and breathing. Any time someone else sets a meeting place, give yourself every edge possible."

  "Who do you think it was?” She could barely raise her voice above a whisper.

  "If it's the same people who killed your husband, they're a lot more dangerous than we've led ourselves to believe. This is no penny ante operation."

  "Do you think they knew I was on the boat with you?” Her eyes were round with fear.

  "No. I think it was an unfortunate coincidence. Whoever set the bomb and timer on Van Dine's boat obviously somehow knew he was meeting with someone. The bomb was meant to take out both boats. But now they'll be digging to find out who was on this boat and that's not good."

  "My God.” She rubbed her hands over her face as if trying to wipe away cobwebs. Or bad dreams. “I could get killed and they won't even know it's me. I don't know which scenario is worse."

  Dino flashed a brief, reassuring grin. “Not if I have anything to do about it. All right. Sit here. We have to get moving."

  "Back to Key West?"

  "For the moment. I'm pretty sure whoever this was didn't know who Van Dine was meeting, so we've bought a little time.” He laid one hand against her cheek. “Trust me, Jen. I'll take care of you. But we need to get moving. It won't take that long for them to check into Van Dine's past and come up with some names to follow. That means we need to get our own ducks in a row quickly. We need to go back to the house and do some homework."

  He shoved both throttles forward and the big boat leaped through the water like a giant whale.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Nine

  Dino Brancuzzi was well aware that people in his line of work could have a short life expectancy if they didn't prepare for every eventuality. That's why both his home and marina had more hidden security alarms than the White House. He knew their anonymity couldn't last much longer. If these people were checking Jen's background and Van Dine's, it wouldn't be too long before the lines intersected at Ethan and then to him.

  On the run back to Key West he'd called both Ethan and Mike, giving them a brief version of what happened, promising to call Ethan later on. Mike agreed to head to the marina and check things out before the boat docked. Jen's brain was spinning by the time all the arrangements were made.

  "I feel as if I fell into the middle of a spy movie,” she told Dino, trying to find a crumb of humor in the situation.

  "Not so far from wrong, cara. Not so far from wrong."

  It was close to two o'clock in the morning by the time Dino silently guided the big boat into the slip at the pier. Mike melted out of the shadows to help him tie up. Dino picked up the duffel bag with the money.

  "I'd better get this back to Ethan ASAP."

  "Want me to take care of it?"

  "Not unless you're going back tonight. I'll lock it in the safe and see how he wants to handle this.” He reached out a hand to help Jen onto the deck.

  "I checked out your house,” Mike told him. “Nothing suspicious there, nor here at the marina, but you might want to do a look-see yourself."

  Dino finished securing the boat and shook hands with Mike. “Need a place to crash tonight?"

  "I'll find a room someplace in town. Not to worry."

  "I was thinking you might want to stay on the boat. Kill two birds with one stone. You get a place to sleep and I get a sentry for the boat."

  Mike grinned. “How can I pass up a deal like that?” He pointed to a small satchel leaning against a lamp post. “Brought my stuff just in case."

  "Good. Listen, I'll call Ethan, but you'd better get hold of the others and tell them to put out every feeler they've got."

  "I'm on it.” Mike grabbed his bag and in seconds was on the boat, fading away into its dark interior.

  Although the night air wasn't cold Jen felt chilled. She'd been trying to keep out of the way while the men talked, rubbing her arms to generate some body heat. Dino dropped the duffel at his feet and pulled her into his arms.

  "Look at you,” he said softly. “I should be shot. You've got to be exhausted, and I wouldn't doubt that shock is setting in, considering everything that's happened. Let's get you home and warmed up."

  He scanned the entire pier area while they walked to the parking lot and climbed into the SUV. From the back seat he retrieved an old blanket.

  "For emergencies,” he told her. “This certainly qualifies. Wrap it around yourself. It's only a few blocks to the house but I want to take some of that chill out of your body. Come on. Do it."

  Obligingly, she wrapped herself in the thick wool, but the cold she was feeling came from inside. She wondered if she'd ever forget a
ll the death she'd seen in just a few days.

  In his driveway, Dino locked the vehicle and set the alarm, then bundled Jen and the money into the house.

  "Come sit down, cara,” he told her, guiding her to the couch.

  Jen was still shivering so hard she was afraid her bones would snap. She watched while Dino opened a cupboard and pulled out a familiar bottle and two glasses.

  "Courvoisier!” How had he remembered? And why? “I can't believe you have a bottle."

  "It's what we drank the last night we were all together.” A flash of something—sorrow? regret?—crossed his face. “Call me a sentimental jackass. I thought, I don't know, maybe one day you'd stumble back into our lives and we'd crack this open.” He wrestled the bottle open and poured some into each of the glasses, handing one to her. “Drink, cara. It will settle your nerves. I'll be right back."

  He took the duffel with the money and disappeared into his bedroom. Jen sat huddled on the couch, cupping the glass in both hands and sipping at the warm brandy, the remembered flavor like a caress on her tongue. Eight years rolled away as if they were nothing. She'd almost forgotten that night in Ethan's sloppy apartment. He and Dino and the others were leaving the next morning. She'd been staying with Ethan during the week he was in town, but she'd known the merry-go-round ride was almost over. Ethan had itchy feet, moving from one relationship to another. That way he didn't have to give a piece of himself to anyone.

  Dino had always been the quiet one. The solid one. Standing on the sidelines watching his friends make jackasses of themselves as they came down from their mission adrenaline rush. The caretaker, making sure they were always ready for their next assignments, that they didn't get their lives too entangled during their down time.

  Too bad he didn't get that message across to Ethan.

  No! I don't wish that. I'd never have Deanne.

  She was still sitting there lost in thought when Dino came back into the room.

  "Okay. Money's stashed away.” His gaze scanned her face. “Color's a little better. Cognac helping?"

  Jen nodded. “Dino, I don't ... that is...” She clutched the glass harder. “You could have been killed tonight. And it would have been my fault."

  "Hey, hey, hey. Hold on, here.” Before she knew what he was doing, he had scooped her up and settled in the chair with her on his lap. “I knew the risks going in. They're the same risks I take many times over. In different situations. That's why I try to think one step ahead of everyone."

  "That's why you moved the boat."

  "Yes. Did I think someone was trying to blow us up? No. But I didn't want us to be sitting ducks in their coordinates, either.” He rested his cheek against her hair. The feeling was so comforting she wanted to cry.

  "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

  "Nobody dragged me into anything,” he assured her. “I walked in with my eyes open, so get that out of your head. You were in just as much danger tonight, you know."

  She pressed into the warmth of his chest. “I wish I could just make it all go away."

  "We will, cara." His voice was soft. “I promise you that."

  She forced herself to sit upright, away from the blessed cocoon of his arms. “So what happens now?"

  "Now we try to backtrack Van Dine's movements and see who could have set the bomb. And find out else is on his tail."

  "Can you do that from here?"

  He tilted her chin up and smiled, a warm lazy smile that made her toes curl and her pulse ratchet up. “We can do anything from here. And don't forget, we're not alone. Now,” he took the glass from her hand and set it down on a little table, “I prescribe a hot shower to go with the cognac while I try some magic with my laptop."

  "Okay. But I'll just sit here a minute, if that's okay."

  "No problem."

  As the alcohol filtered its way through her body, it soothed her ragged nerves and melted the edges of the lump of ice that sat squarely in her stomach. Her eyes followed Dino as he set the laptop on the dining room table, booted it up and began to dance his fingers over the keyboard. In seconds he was absorbed in what he was doing.

  She loved watching him, whatever he was doing. He was quietly confident in everything he did, as if he never expected to fail. And that competence settled her, gave her a feeling of stability that the past few weeks had almost destroyed.

  Why couldn't I pick someone like this? What would he say if he knew I have feelings growing for him now? Would this be just one more mistake in a very long line of them?

  "I'm going to give Ethan a holler now,” he told her, pausing for a moment to look at her. “Go ahead and take your shower. Then I'll take one and even though it's late, we can talk about what comes next."

  "Okay.” She sighed and put down her empty glass.

  Too bad you won't come and shower with me.

  * * * *

  Mac looked at Grant sitting casually in the chair across from him. He didn't like having the man come to his office. It was imperative that no one see him here. Tonight, however, he'd had no choice. Meetings had kept him later than usual, so he'd waited until the floor was clear, then had Grant come up in the private elevator.

  "Our man screwed up."

  Grant snorted. “No kidding. You need to hire better help."

  "Have you gotten any further with Jennifer Sutherland's background than the last time? My gut tells me whoever she's run to could be crossing paths with whoever was on that other boat tonight."

  Grant lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Yes and no."

  Mac bit down on his frustration. “What does that mean? Either you did or you didn't?"

  "I told you the last time. The people who knew her as Jennifer LaCroix seem much more worried about the people we're looking for than anything we can do to them. I'm trying a different angle."

  "And what's that?"

  "I'm digging into Jack Smiley's background information."

  Mac frowned. “Isn't he the guy..."

  Grant dipped his head once. “Yup. That's the one. They have to be connected somehow. She disappears and all of a sudden this guy is sticking his nose in museum business. Too much of a coincidence."

  Mac picked up a slim gold pen from his desk and began tapping it on the blotter. He wasn't a man usually given to nervous habits. He always believed they were ‘tells', like in poker. But he was strung so tight at the moment with everything about to go in the crapper that he did it almost without thinking.

  "All of this ‘investigating’ doesn't seem to be getting us any information. Time is passing, the artifacts are still missing, and my people are getting ready to receive the next shipment. We don't know who in the hell might get in the way and screw things up."

  Grant uncrossed and recrossed his legs. “This isn't as simple as you'd like it to be. Whoever Mrs. Sutherland used to hang out with, I'd say they were either covert government agents or the closest thing to it. I might find the same thing with Smiley."

  Mac dropped the pen. “If it's government, I have some contacts. I can use them to open files."

  "Even confidential ones?"

  Mac nodded. “Yes. If they were mercenaries, there's always someone who will talk for the right amount of money. Find that person."

  "Whatever you say.” Grant unfolded himself from the chair. “And, yes, I know. You need answers yesterday."

  * * * *

  Charlie Waters switched his satellite phone to his other hand and hunkered down in the corner of the empty room. He'd been switching locations for his phone calls every day, just in case someone might be able to pick up the signal. He'd been assured the phone was secure, all transmissions scrambled, but Charlie didn't trust electronics worth a damn. He wanted to get this transaction taken care of before time ran out. If he was somehow caught with these particular antiquities in his possession, the thought of the tortures he would undergo made his blood chill. There was little Charlie was afraid of, but the people who could capture him frightened him to death. Literally. />
  Even more than the people he worked for. And that piece of international trash who'd been hanging around the café wasn't someone to ignore, either. Charlie had been very careful not to let any information out but the streets had ears and eyes, no matter how vigilant you were. Right now he wanted to get rid of his merchandise and go to ground until everything blew over.

  "I need to get these pieces out of Cairo,” he repeated into the phone. “And I need to do it now. What's the delay? You said it was all set up."

  "It is,” came the response. “I just need to calm my shipper. He gets a little anxious, Charlie, with things of this magnitude. And we have to make doubly sure there's no way customs will get suspicious."

  "Well, make it damn snappy, you hear? If I get caught, you'll go down with me."

  "If you get caught I'll make sure you're dead before you can open your mouth.” The message was delivered in a tight voice. “Now give me two more days. That's all I need."

  "I'll call you the same time tomorrow. And you'd better have it all set up by then."

  He clicked off with such viciousness he almost cracked the button. Who the hell did these people think they were, taking chances with his life? He had a package that people would kill for. Had killed for. And they were jerking him around.

  Okay. Two days, then he'd find someone else to sell the stuff to. Someone with as much ready cash as these people. There was suddenly too much chatter on the streets for his liking. He needed to get this over and done with and find a secure hiding place until the heat was off.

  He made his way back to his hiding place where his precious goods were hidden, taking care to make sure no one followed him. Up and down twisting streets, one minute hiding in the shadows, the next with an air of nonchalance. Always with an eye on everyone around him.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his destination and checked on the safety of the goods. Settling himself in a comfortable position, he made sure his gun was cocked and loaded, set the alarm on his watch and closed his eyes. Just an hour or two, that's all he could allow himself.

  * * * *

  "This is a bigger plate of spaghetti than we figured, E."