Bluewater Revolution: The Twelfth Novel in the Bluewater Thriller Series - Mystery and Adventure in Florida, Cuba, and the Caribbean (Bluewater Thrillers Book 12)

by Charles Dougherty

  "That's why they'll kill him. He's dangerous because of those connections. He could wreck this whole thing with one phone call."

  Maldonado shook his head. "I couldn't understand why we brought in somebody like him in the first place."

  "Because he used to be Davis's boss. The trust was already established, and Davis would not have worked with that kid who was his initial contact."

  "How will it go down?"

  "You mean Olsen?" Martínez asked.

  "Yes. Killing somebody like him is risky," Maldonado said.

  "He'll commit suicide."

  "They won't buy that," Maldonado protested. "Why would a man like him kill himself?"

  "Remorse," Martínez said.

  "Remorse? For what?"

  "Killing that kid who made the first contact with Davis. The gun that was used will be found in Olsen's possession. It may even be the way he kills himself. That would be fitting, wouldn't it?"

  "How do you know this?"

  "You ask too many questions, Willy. You don't want me to answer that, do you?"

  Maldonado swallowed with some difficulty and shook his head. Martínez smiled at him.

  "We were still discussing what to do about Davis when that call came in," Maldonado said. "Now we've lost our source of information about what he and J.-P. Berger are thinking."

  "When one door closes, another one opens," Martínez said. "The last you heard from Cruz, Ortiz was about to score with the girl, wasn't he?"

  "Yes! You're right. I should check with Cruz. Ortiz was going to spend the day sailing with her, though, so Cruz may not have heard from him yet."

  "That's all right. We have plenty to occupy us for the moment. I need to make sure the Olsen problem is handled. I'll be out for most of the evening."

  "Then I should have the information from Ortiz when you return. I have plans for dinner with Cruz," Maldonado said.

  "Be careful when you leave here. I think I may have been followed when I dropped off Davis. I saw a stunning woman behind me a couple of times in traffic, but if she was tailing me, I lost her. It could have been nothing."

  ****

  "How was the sailing?" Connie asked, as she caught the coiled line that Liz tossed her. Vengeance was coasting in, her starboard side a few feet off the dock. The breeze was pushing the boat away, and Dani looked tense as she worked the helm.

  "That's the forward spring line," Liz said, reaching to pick up another hank of line. "Cleat it to stop us, please. It was a nice day out there, but we've got some things to cover with everybody."

  Connie walked along the dock until she found a cleat about half a boat length from shore. She wrapped a couple of turns of the spring line around the cleat and took up most of the slack. She looked up at Dani, who was behind the helm, her eyes on Connie. She caught Dani's eye and nodded, indicating that she had the line secured.

  Dani shifted the transmission into forward and eased the throttle open until the line took a strain. Satisfied that Connie had judged the length properly, Dani applied more power, and cranked the helm slightly to port. The diagonal thrust from the propeller working against the spring line pushed the boat sideways, bringing her up against the dock.

  The forward spring line was bar-tight as Vengeance squeezed the fenders that protected her topsides from the edge of the dock. Dani handed Connie a coil of line, one end of which was secured to the bronze cleat on Vengeance's starboard quarter. As Connie bent to cleat the stern line, Liz stepped off onto the dock, bow line in her hand. She tied it off, and she and Connie both gave Dani thumbs-up. Dani throttled back and took the transmission out of gear. She leaned over and shut down the diesel.

  "Where's David?" Connie asked.

  "He's tied up below," Dani said, scowling.

  Connie raised her eyebrows. "Paul's making rum punch; it's time for sundowners on the veranda. Will he be joining us?"

  Dani shook her head. "He's tied up -- literally. Son of a bitch. He may still be unconscious. We'll leave him here for now. We need to talk. Are Phillip and Papa around?"

  "Yes. Paul put them to work helping with the hors d'oeuvres. What happened?"

  "The short version's that Ortiz is a spy for Manny Cruz and this Martínez character that Phillip's been working with." Dani stepped off onto the dock.

  "I'm sorry, Dani," Connie said.

  Liz stepped between them and put a hand on Connie's arm, shaking her head.

  "It's okay," Dani said. "I'm over him, the asshole. We just need to figure out what to do with him." She hopped over the lifelines like a cat, landing on the dock. "Let's go get some rum punch and we'll tell you about it."

  "Okay," Connie said, as the three of them walked up the dock. "This could take a while. We've got some news from this end, too. I hope Paul made lots of hors d'oeuvres."

  They found the three men standing at an umbrella table on the veranda, waiting for them. There was a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. As they approached, the men each pulled out a chair and held it for the three women to sit.

  "Where's David," J.-P. asked. "I was expecting to meet him, finally."

  "That can still happen, Papa," Dani said, with a wry smile, "but first, we need to tell you what we've learned about him. Liz, would you start?"

  Liz nodded, but before she said anything, J.-P. spoke.

  "Is he still on Vengeance?"

  "Yes," Liz said. "He's indisposed now. We'll explain."

  J.-P. nodded. "Please."

  "When you came back from your meeting yesterday, Phillip, Paul told you that the car Martínez sent was owned by Manny Cruz."

  "Right," Phillip said. "By his realty firm, actually."

  "I recognized the name, but I didn't want to say anything about it until I had a chance to talk to Dani." She gestured for silence as Phillip and J.-P. both leaned forward, ready to interrupt. "You'll understand. Just let us tell you. When Dani was having lunch with David Ortiz at the yacht club that first day, I was inside chatting with the bartender. It was just the two of us, and we were talking about men. Nothing special, just idle chatter.

  "She saw me staring out the window, watching David and Dani. Then she mentioned that she knew David, that he entertained customers at the club often. She said he used a company membership; he worked for a real estate company owned by Manny Cruz.

  "Once I heard you connect Manny Cruz to Martínez, you see why I had to talk to Dani before I said anything."

  Everybody nodded. "Yes, so you must have told her last night," J.-P. said.

  "She did," Dani said. "I was already suspicious of him. I'd caught him in a couple of lies that had seemed senseless. Once Liz told me about Cruz and Martínez, the lies seemed ominous instead of dumb. He'd been wanting to go sailing, so I called him last night and invited him on the trip today. Once we got out of sight of land, we questioned him. Based on his answers, I wanted to dispose of him out in the Gulf Stream -- had him all packed up, wrapped in chain. Then Liz pointed out that we should let you have a say in deciding what to do with him."

  "What did he tell you?" J.-P. asked.

  "He works for Cruz, all right, and not just in the real estate business. Cruz assigned him and a woman named Lupita Vidal to kidnap me. They were going to use me for leverage in Martínez's negotiations with you. Ortiz picked me up in a club at South Beach that first night, planning to snatch me when we went out to dinner.

  "Before that happened, Martínez changed their plans. He wanted Ortiz to seduce me and become part of the group here. His job was to spy on us and report back to Cruz."

  "Who would then tell Martínez what Ortiz had learned," Phillip added.

  "Almost, but not quite. There's another player; the only name Ortiz has is 'Willy.' Willy fits between Martínez and Cruz," Dani said.

  Phillip and J.-P. exchanged glances, and J.-P. shook his head. "Go ahead, please," he said. "What about this woman, Lupita Vidal?"

  "She's dead; out of the picture," Dani said.

  "Is her death related to this?" Phillip a
sked.

  "Possibly, but only in a peripheral way. She was, um, mugged a couple of nights ago, and in the hospital, all doped up. Ortiz thinks they killed her because she knew too much and they were afraid she might give something away. The police were questioning her about the mugging. She was a prize fighter; hired muscle for Cruz and another crony of his named Santos. Cruz and Santos are smuggling Haitians into the States and exploiting them. Santos runs that part of Cruz's empire."

  "Okay," J.-P. said. "This is consistent with what we have learned. Is there more that we can get from Ortiz?"

  "Maybe," Liz said. "Dani?"

  "He claims he's an undercover agent for Immigration and Customs Enforcement. ICE is investigating the trafficking operation, and Ortiz claims he was supposed to infiltrate Cruz's side of the racket. He was convincing enough so that Cruz trusted him with spying on us. Liz suggested that if that's true and we can find a way to trust him, we could make a double agent out of him. That's the basic story."

  "Should I make a call?" Paul asked. "If he's with ICE, I can probably verify his identity pretty quickly."

  "Yes," Phillip and J.-P. said, in chorus.

  "Excuse me," Paul said, and left the table.

  "While we wait for Paul, Phillip can tell you the balance of what we know," J.-P. said. "Then we will all be together in our understanding, I think."

  ****

  Chapter 23

  "This new guy, François?" Santos put his coffee cup down and added cream.

  "Yeah? What about him?" Cruz asked. "How's he working out?"

  "Good," Santos said. "He's doin' real good. Learned his way around quick, too. And he ain't as much of a pain in the ass as Lupita was."

  "That's good to hear. Everything quiet in the rentals?"

  "Yeah, pretty much." Santos chuckled. "François, though, he did kick the shit out of a couple of them assholes from the D.R."

  Cruz looked alarmed at that. "What happened?"

  Santos shrugged. "No big deal. He was makin' the rounds in the building where we put 'em, pickin' up the rent for the week. They gave him some shit, told him they didn't have to pay no rent, that they were my guests." He grinned and shook his head.

  "You didn't explain that to him before you sent him in there?"

  "I did, but I guess he forgot. Cost them guys a busted nose and a few teeth, is all. I 'splained it to him when he told me 'bout it. Won't have no more trouble, I don't think."

  "Those men are tough," Cruz said. "He's lucky he didn't get hurt."

  "You ain't seen tough like François, Manny. One look at him an' the Devil gonna cross the street to keep outta his way."

  "As long as he knows to leave them alone. We should have them out of there in a few more days, anyway."

  "That's good. He knows to leave them alone, but he don't like it much. He says they're takin' up room he could be makin' money on. He gets a cut on the rent he collects, see. Besides, he don't like 'em 'cause they ain't Haitian. Says they're makin' trouble with some of the women."

  "He noticed they weren't Haitian?"

  "Yeah. He knew they were from the D.R. right off."

  "How?"

  "Takes one to know one, I guess; he's from Port-au-Prince, remember?"

  "No, I didn't know that. I thought he was American-born, for some reason. He said they were making trouble with the women? What kind of trouble?"

  "Messin' with some of the ones that're married, what he said. He figures the husbands are gonna get into it with 'em."

  "Shit! We gave those bastards women to keep them out of trouble. What the hell are they doing?"

  "I don't know, Manny. You know how some guys are. Goddamn animals, those guys. It ain't the first I heard of it, either. You want me to tell François to teach 'em a lesson?"

  "Not yet. We need those guys in one piece. Besides, there's thirty of them. He may be tough, but nobody's that tough."

  "That's what I told him, but he just grinned at me. His fuckin' teeth are filed to points in the front, Manny, like some fuckin' vampire."

  "Tell him to keep away from them; I'll take care of it."

  "How are you goin' to -- "

  "I said I'd take care of it, Santos. I need to get back to my office. You got anything else?"

  ****

  "What are you doing here?" Dani asked, as Sharktooth approached the table where they were all snacking on the hors d'oeuvres.

  "Paul let me in. He was on the phone. He said everybody was out back."

  "That's not what I meant," Dani said, as everyone shifted position, making room for the chair that Sharktooth dragged over from the other table.

  "We thought you and Maureen were coming with Sandrine in a couple of days," Connie said.

  "Plans changed," Sharktooth said, grinning. "They still be comin' in a couple of days. I been talkin' wit' Phillip 'bout a little business we doin'."

  "We were just filling everyone in, Sharktooth," Phillip said. "A lot has happened since we spoke last. Did everything work out all right?"

  "Yeah, mon. No problem. I pick up La Paloma like we plan, an' meet the ship on the wes' side of Andros in the little bay."

  "Did they get you loaded with no problem? "J.-P. asked.

  "Yeah, mon. Mos' of the work on La Paloma done befo' I pick her up. They jus' load the shipment an' seal up the compartments wit' fiberglass."

  "Where did you leave La Paloma?" Phillip asked.

  "Lef' her in a marina in Marathon. Easy run up to Shark River from there. You got a delivery date yet?"

  "No, not yet. Things are fluid right now," Phillip said. "Will La Paloma be okay where she is for a while?"

  "Mm-hmm," Sharktooth said. "She be jus' fine. I change the registration, too, jus' in case something go wrong."

  "Who's she registered to now?" J.-P. asked.

  Sharktooth grinned. "Manuel Cruz."

  Phillip and J.P. laughed.

  "If it all comes apart, we can give the feds an anonymous tip and dump the whole mess in Cruz's lap," Phillip said.

  Sharktooth nodded, but didn't say anything.

  Dani broke the silence. "You've already brought the weapons in, I take it?"

  "Given that we don't know who to trust, J.-P. and I decided to do it before anybody expected it. Harder for them to arrange any surprises, that way."

  Dani nodded. "What kind of boat is La Paloma?"

  "A 40-foot sport fisherman that one of Clarence's people found in the Turks and Caicos. A little beat-up, but still fast and seaworthy."

  "Sounds perfect," Dani said. "Like she won't attract any attention."

  Phillip shrugged. "If she does, that's why she's in Cruz's name. How about the marina, Sharktooth?"

  "I used Cruz's name and paid cash for a month's dockage." Sharktooth said, grinning. "I wiped her down for prints."

  "I see you found everybody," Paul said, joining the group.

  "What did you find out about Ortiz?" Dani asked.

  "Nothing yet. I talked to Luke; he has to make a few calls. He knows the woman who runs the undercover ops for ICE in South Florida. They're both on the JTTF. She's out in the field, though, so it'll take him an hour or two to get in touch with her. He did confirm that there's an ICE investigation going on in Little Haiti. He knows about it because of MPD's investigation into the murder of that Lupita Vidal woman you mentioned, Dani. He'd like to talk to Ortiz about her at some point. That much of Ortiz's story checks out."

  "So they do think someone killed her?"

  "Yes. The death was suspicious, so they did a preliminary investigation. The security videos picked up a janitor who went into her hospital room for a few minutes about the time her heart stopped. He disappeared after he left her room, and there wasn't supposed to be a janitor working there at the time, anyway. The ME's still waiting on tox screens, but they think the janitor injected something into her IV."

  ****

  "I think now we have told you everything, Sharktooth," J.-P. said. They still sat around the table on the veranda. Sharktooth had
devoured the hors d'oeuvres, and Paul and Liz had made another tray just for him.

  "Uh-oh," Phillip said, standing up and reaching into his pocket. "That's a text on the phone Olsen gave me." He pulled the phone out and entered an access code on the screen, turning away to avoid the glare of the setting sun as he studied the message.

  "What does he want?" J.-P. asked. "I thought you were no longer going to work with him."

  "I did, too," Phillip said. "It's an odd message; nothing to do with the exiles. It's a personal warning. He says he thinks the man he's been reporting to is an agent of the Cuban DGI, but he doesn't say why. He says I should watch my six, and I shouldn't trust Martínez or any of the exiles. He overheard this director talking with someone about how they didn't need him anymore, because they had a mole in our operation."

  "They didn't need Martínez anymore?" Connie asked. "I'm confused."

  "Sorry," Phillip said. "My fault; I wasn't clear enough. Not Martínez -- they don't need Olsen any more. He thinks they're going to kill him."

  "The CIA?" Dani asked.

  "I don't think so," Phillip said. "I'm not sure exactly who he's working for. Everything's changed since Olsen and I worked with the Agency. But it sounds like the DGI has at least one plant in there -- maybe Olsen's boss. They've left him locked in an interrogation room for the last couple of hours. He says he heard Martínez talking outside the door, telling somebody that he'd just do it there, that it would be easier to move a body than a prisoner."

  "I'm surprised they let him keep the phone," Dani said. "Amateurs."

  "He told me earlier that they didn't know about the phones; he got them from somewhere else, because he didn't trust them. He mentioned that when I told him about the leak; I was suspicious of the phones."

  "You said he told you the phone was booby trapped," J.-P. said.

  "Yes. They were paired, somehow. If you tried to call any number besides the other paired phone, it would blow up. He said they were lethal. Same thing if you entered the wrong access code more than three times in a row."

  "Is there anything we can do?" J.-P. asked. "I know you had some history with him."

  Phillip shook his head. "I have no idea where he is." His thumbs flew over the screen of the phone as he spoke.