by Scott Cook
I snorted, “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Just as before at the greenhouse, there was virtually nothing on either man that even resembled a clue. The only notable exception was a crucifix on Oscar’s neck with a small inscription on the back that said: a Oscar de Monique con amor… to Oscar from Monique with love.
“Any clues?” Missy asked after she’d set the end table and lamp back upright.
It seemed a little odd, considering that there was a dead man half-sprawled across the couch, which was generously splashed with his drying blood. There were several shattered picture frames as well as another dead guy bleeding in the family room.
I held up the necklace, “Just this. Not sure if it’s a clue or not… but I’ll keep it just in case. Oscar and his girlfriend would seem to be Catholic.”
Missy shrugged, “We’re in Latin America, Holmes. That’s not exactly a revelation.”
“The most monumental structures start with a single brick, Watson,” I Sherlocked.
“What do we do about these bodies?” Missy asked.
“Fuck em’,” I said. “Let’s get the Christ outta here for now. This place isn’t safe. You can call the local authorities from the road. Deal with the fallout later.”
Missy cast a glance around at the house she hadn’t even had time to enjoy yet, “This would’ve been so nice…”
I sighed and took her hand, “We’re not beaten yet.”
Chapter 22
“I don’t like that Garcia said he knows where we’re hiding,” Missy commented as Juan’s farmhouse and the Reina del Lago came into view.
“I’m not surprised that he does,” I stated. “And I’m not that worried. It’s a fairly secure location. Of course, Garcia could’ve simply lied… but I don’t think so.”
“Wonder if Miles knows where we are,” Missy pondered.
“I think we should tell him,” I said.
“What!? Doesn’t letting him know that compromise us?” Missy asked as she parked. “I mean, it gives him an advantage, right?”
I scowled, “I have a theory about that… maybe a hypothesis is a better word. It’s sort of a take on the old keep your friends close and your enemy’s closer concept.”
“What do you mean?”
“The stronger the bond between you and your enemy,” I stated, trying to put my instinct into a reasonable explanation, “the stronger the tension… the more the string vibrates. Vibrates with information.”
She looked confused. She shut down the engine and we sat for a moment before I continued.
“Think of it like a wire,” I said. “A phone line. Information flows both ways. If, in this example, Miles has a strong connection to us, then the reverse is also true. Him knowing things about us means he’ll react to what we do. We can both predict his reactions as well as possibly even direct them. That’s aside from simply learning more from an open line of communication. It’s amazing what you can pick up if you simply watch and listen.”
She considered that for a moment, “I think I get it… but I’m still uncomfortable knowing he’s our true enemy. After what you told me and after today… I think you’re right about him.”
I sighed, “I think that’s over stating the point a little. I don’t think Miles is a bad guy, an evil genius, in other words. I believe he’s trying to manipulate circumstances to benefit himself.”
“That’s hard to swallow when guys come and abduct you and your entire family,” Missy pointed out dryly. “Not to mention busting into your home and threatening you.”
“Yeah…” I admitted. “Not what you’d call friendly acts for sure… but I think Miles is at least partly in over his head. Miles doesn’t have enough alpha in him to keep Garcia under control. Miles wants something from Garcia to help his business… Garcia wants to take over a country.”
She pondered that for a long moment and then got out, “I don’t care, Scott. As far as I’m concerned, Miles is guilty by association. If Garcia is a raping murderer, then so is Miles. End of damned story.”
“I agree,” I said, “yet I don’t think we have to fear Miles directly… so my idea of keeping him in the loop… or to put it another way, keeping him in our crosshairs… is better than the alternative.”
She sighed, “Okay, I trust you… but for now I’ve got to use the ladies room.”
I pulled the Sig from my waist band, “Let’s scope the scene here. I don’t see anybody, and that could be trouble.”
Missy and I did a quick look around the farmhouse without going inside and then made our way to the gangplank to the river boat. I still didn’t see anybody until we got close. Then a subtle movement above caught my attention.
A Costa Rican man appeared at the upper deck railing. He must’ve been crouching low or even lying on the deck and watching us. For a moment, I nearly froze, thinking we’d been caught by another of Garcia’s men. He seemed to have an abundant supply.
“Hola, señor y señora!” He called down with a smile and a wave. “I work for señor Rincon. Please come aboard.”
“That makes me feel better,” Missy commented as we followed the man up to the lounge.
We found Lisa, Umberto and Juan there, including two more of Umberto’s men. The girls ran and hugged their mother and Lisa approached me. She looked a bit unsure of herself.
“Where is everybody else?” I asked.
“With Juan’s wife, Maria,” Lisa explained. “They went over to San Luis. She and Juan are making arrangements for them to leave tomorrow morning.”
“Good,” I said, going over to the bar and pouring myself a whiskey. Missy met my eye and winked. I poured her one too. “We’ve had… an interesting afternoon.”
“Is everything all right, Scott?” Juan asked.
I snorted, “Yeah, Juan, it’s just dandy.”
I gave them the short version of the events that had taken place at the Delaney house. I didn’t really want to talk about it in front of Aubrey and Shelby, but time was short and they probably deserved to know anyway.
“Ay dios mio…” Juan muttered.
Umberto met my gaze, “What do we do next, amigo.”
I drew in a breath and looked at Lisa and then at Missy and at Umberto. Something had to be done and it was go time. Time to see just how strong Lisa’s loyalties to Palmer really were.
“Thanks to Umberto,” I said after a long moment and after draining my glass, “I have what I consider to be proof that Miles Palmer is behind Garcia.”
Lisa frowned, “Scott—“
“Omar Sanchez was among the men who was killed yesterday… Christ only yesterday… at Green City,” I told her, locking eyes with her. “Omar was Palmer’s personal security dog when Umberto wasn’t available.”
“So?” Lisa asked glumly.
“Señorita,” Umberto came to stand next to Lisa, “Miles did not seem to recognize him. In fact, I would say he went out of his way not to.”
“What does that even mean?” Lisa asked weakly, her confidence clearly broken.
“It means Palmer is backing Garcia,” I said in a hard tone. “Sanchez was from Nicaragua.”
“But…” Lisa tried to protest but there was little she could find to argue.
Missy came over and put an arm across her shoulders, “I’m sorry, Lisa. But I think Scott is right.”
Lisa hung her head in defeat, “Dammit… damn you…”
This last she directed at me. I didn’t look away.
“So what now?” Lisa asked bitterly.
“Now I want you to call Miles and tell him that you found Missy and the kids,” I said. “And that Clay and Declan are with Garcia. Tell Miles where we are.”
“What?” Lisa asked in abject confusion. “But if he’s the… the enemy…”
“I don’t have time to explain,” I said shortly. “I’m sorry, Lisa, I really am, but—“
“Yeah,” She snapped, her eyes blazing. “I’ll just bet you are! You were right and stupid Lisa backed the
wrong guy, right?”
I truly did feel bad for her. She was angry more at herself for not seeing it and for sticking up for Palmer than she was at me… or at least I hoped so. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to play the scene again.
“Umberto, I need to talk to you alone,” I said, turning to go out on deck.
“Scott! You come back here and let me yell at you!” Lisa shouted.
“Let him go,” Missy soothed.
Umberto followed me down to the first deck and into my room where I found the AR-15 I’d used the night before cleaned and loaded.
“I have four men here,” Umberto said, “They’ll stand guard all night.”
“Good,” I replied, clearing the rifle and inspecting my liberated Sig as well. “Umberto… I’m going over to Cuidad Verde tonight. What can you tell me about the security there, including the men, the admin building and specifically Miles’ office and computer? I assume he has them.”
He grinned, “I’ll do better than that, Scott. I’ll come with you.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I said.
He chuckled, “No, its perfecto. I have security access to areas you won’t be able to get into. Also, I can cover for you if we’re caught.”
“Why?” I suddenly asked him. “Why are you suddenly willing to change sides? To turn away from your boss and help a man you didn’t even know two days ago?”
Rincon paced the room for a moment, “It’s… complicated. But let us say that I recognize honor and integrity when I see it, no? And I trust Juan and he trusts this señor Santino of yours. That man has made it very clear how highly he thinks of you. And any man who’s willing to risk his life for others without even hesitating gets mucho respeto from me.”
I believed him. There was something in his open manner that lent credence to his declaration and I thought there must be an interesting story there. I nodded to him.
“I appreciate that, amigo,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder, “but you don’t need to put yourself personally in the hot seat. Just give me the codes or whatever and I’ll go on my own.”
Umberto grinned, “In spite of what happened yesterday… and because of it, in fact… security is very tight. You need me there for more than just access codes.”
“Okay, then let’s go,” I said after a moment of consideration. He was probably right. I couldn’t help but feel that a clock was ticking and the faster I could move, the better. “This shit needs to end soon. And I’ll tell you something, Umberto… if going about it the easy way doesn’t work… I’ll have to up the ante, so to speak.”
He cocked his head to one side and frowned, “You mean that if you can’t find what you’re looking for by covert means, you’ll beat it out of him.”
I locked eyes with him, “Exactly. I’m getting my friend and his son back. Whatever it takes.”
“Okay. Soy tu hombre.”
My door opened and Lisa slipped in. She looked at the two of us, frowned and sighed.
“Do you wish me to leave, Lisa?” Umberto asked gently. “So you can yell at Scott?”
“Wow, hombre,” I jibed. “We haven’t even left yet and you’re already throwing me under the autobus? Some side kick you are.”
Umberto only shrugged, “Men with guns and rebels are nada, amigo… but an angry woman is muy aterrador.”
“Hold on, Umberto,” Lisa said suspiciously. “What are you two cooking up in here?”
Umberto and I exchanged glances. I once again decided to show my hand, “We’re going to Green City once it’s dark and break into Miles office and rifle his files.”
“Just like the Magnum, P.I.” Umberto said with a crooked grin.
Lisa couldn’t help but smile.
“And what about you?” I asked her.
She closed her eyes and sighed, “I called him like you said.”
“I thought you came down here to punch and kick and slap me silly,” I said light-heartedly.
“Missy stopped me,” Lisa admitted. “So I called Miles and told him what you said. I’m still not 100% convinced, Scott.”
“Lisa—“
“I’m not saying you’re wrong, either,” she said, holding up a hand. “It could be that Miles isn’t entirely aware of what’s up.”
I didn’t believe that but there was no point in pressing now. Either I’d find evidence to support my claim or I wouldn’t.
“It’s just that he’s always been a decent guy,” She explained. It almost sounded as if she were pleading with me. “Smart, thoughtful and well-organized. Yet not nearly as ambitious as Andrea. If I had to lay money on one or the other of them being an evil mastermind, it’d be her hands down.”
“Maybe,” I relented. “That’s why I’m going to snoop around his office. That’s also why I need to find that ex-wife. Anyway, it’s getting dark and we’ve got over an hour to drive, so…”
“I called Miles as I said,” Lisa continued. “He was shocked, seemed pleased that we were all safe. He sounded upset about Clay—“
I made a rude noise of derision.
“—and he said he’d come over in the morning,” Lisa went on. “But that he was busy tonight. He was traveling and wouldn’t be back until late.”
“Ha!” Umberto said with a smile.
“Sounds like our opening,” I stated. I looked into her sea blue eyes, which seemed filled with sadness. “You want to come along? Put that investigator’s license to some good use?”
“No,” She said in a small voice. “I… no.”
I sighed, “All right. Come, let’s ride, Tonto.”
“Who is this Tonto?” Umberto asked as we headed out the door.
“The Lone Ranger’s friend,” I said in mock exasperation.
“Me think pale face watch’m demasiados movies,” Umberto said in a pretty good old-western Indian impersonation.
“That’s not politically correct,” I stated.
He shrugged, “Well, I am part Indio, as we all are here. So this is okay. I’m allowed to call you pale face.”
“It’s gonna be a long night…” I muttered.
Chapter 23
I was regretting the loss of some of my special equipment. Both Declan and Clay had my only two night vision monoculars, and they’d have certainly come in handy for what I had planned.
“It won’t be that difficult,” Umberto reassured me as he drove us toward the Green City project. “All security is provided by my firm. All we have to do is simply walk in. It will be a piece of pie.”
I chuckled, “Piece of cake.”
“Exactly.”
“So you’re saying we drive up to the admin building and park,” I said. “Walk in like we own the dump and do whatever the Christ we want?”
“Si,” Umberto said as he turned off the lake road and onto the private drive that led to the construction area. “Why not? I can do anything, I’m chief of police.”
My eyes went wide, “Was that an American movie reference?”
“I’m a fan of movies,” Umberto admitted, “and the Jaws is one of my favorites. Roberto Shaw, Ricardo Dreyfus and Roy Scheider. Classic.”
I shook my head and chuckled, “Roberto Shaw, huh? Okay… one of my favs, too.”
He parked the Jeep next to the admin building where we were met by one of his men. He wore the simple uniform, a pair of black slacks, khaki short sleeved shirt and boots. The shirt had a stylized shield on the breast under which was written Rincon Seguridad.
Umberto and the man exchanged a few quick words in Spanish and then he led me inside the admin building. It was small, with a tiny foyer with a reception desk and two chairs. A set of stairs led to a second floor and a hallway led back to what were probably a series of offices.
We went up the stairs which opened onto a large landing laid out as a comfortable living room. There were two couches, an easy chair and an enormous flat panel TV complete with sound system. A small kitchen adjoined this room and a small hallway gave access to a bathroom a
nd two closed doors.
“This is his combination private residence and office,” Umberto explained. “The bedroom is at the end of the hall and his office is the other door.”
“Rank hath its privileges,” I said as we moved into the hallway.
The office had a security keypad on it. I looked at Umberto and he looked at me.
“Let me guess,” I said, “you don’t have access?”
He grinned, “Not exactly, amigo… but who do you think set all this up?”
“But he’s entered his own security code, right?” I protested.”
“Si… but there is always a back door, no?” Umberto grinned impishly and tapped a sequence into the keypad.
A green light went on and the lock clicked. He led me inside and flipped on the light.
The office was typical. Large desk with laptop computer, a couple of filing cabinets and a sofa.
“Cozy,” I said. “Now, do you think you can get into his computer?”
Rincon grinned, “That password I know. Just in case.”
I frowned, “That’s not a good sign.”
Umberto sat behind the desk and flipped the screen up. He gave me a quizzical look as I came around and leaned on the back of the large leather executive chair.
“If he’s so willing to give you access,” I explained, “then there probably won’t be much clandestine information to find.”
Umberto frowned at that, “Is only one way to be certain, no?”
He tapped in the password and we were in. There was a lot of information about Cuidad Verde, a lot of contacts and files on staff members as well as plans, drawings, CAD files and more. The only thing that seemed of interest was that Miles had saved a link to BBVA Mexico on his browser.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“One of the largest banks in Central America,” Umberto explained as he clicked on the favorite to navigate to the bank. “Señor Palmer uses it for all financial transactions here.”
“Indeed…” I muttered.
Naturally there was a login. Palmer had saved his username, but the password field was blank. I groaned. This would be one that Umberto would not know.