Green-Eyed Monster

by Gill McKnight

  “Yes. It was a fantastic, uncomplicated little plan. In fact, apart from my withholding her bonus, getting her fired, and blaming you, the rest of it was more or less her idea. All I wanted to do was empty an account or two. She thought up the fake kidnap as a decoy for a huge ransom. It was the perfect cover for the withdrawal of all our funds and meant I could fleece you for even more.” Ginette was very frank now that the cards were on the table and at least some of her chips were safe. “All she seemed interested in was her ‘honor’ and her bonus. Fixated would be the word I’d use. Like I said, she came over as a big geek.”

  “Except all along she was playing you, turning the plan to her own advantage. You dropped me and all the ammo she needed right into her lap. You said she was ex-FinCEN. She’s probably been monitoring me for years, building up her own private profile, planning a move like this.”

  “If I’d have known you were so crooked, I might have loved you more.” Ginette sighed. She was working her way back to Victoria’s good side, she could feel it. “Why on earth did you trust her? How did you know she wouldn’t just run for the hills with the money, leaving me locked in a car trunk somewhere?”

  “I checked her out. Jeez, I’m not that stupid, Vic. The FinCEN information was correct. She’s Michaela Rapowski, a technical analyst, and she didn’t seem too greedy or creepy or anything. I mean, credit where it’s due. She had me running around those woods popping off my pistol so she could drag you out of that furnace. So don’t tell me I misjudged the character of the woman I chose to con us out of millions.”

  Victoria fell silent. She was still struggling to process the behavior of her supposed malefactor. To defraud her, then escape, and then U-turn to save her from a fiery death trap? It told her something. There were clues buried in the actions, motives in the intent, but she was too tired and muddled to connect the dots.

  And at the moment, it was the least of her worries.

  Ginette chattered on. “I mean, I couldn’t even tell her I was going to drug you. I had to let on you were a drunk, for God’s sake.”

  “Of course she seemed perfect. She had your number from the start. She was laughing up her sleeve at you all the time, you jackass.”

  “Well, I don’t see why you’re so angry with me. You’re the one who gave her access to everything else.”

  “I know that.” Victoria actually did shout now, only it came out as a strangled rasp. Her throat and lungs were still raw. “She made me think it was a simple kidnap gone wrong. That she was after you. Then she made me think you were ripping me off left, right, and center. Made me believe she was helping me hide my money somewhere safe away from your greedy grasp. All the time she was stashing it away for herself.” Victoria slapped the bed in frustration. “All along, I thought I was outmaneuvering her. But she had me right where she wanted me, thinking exactly what she wanted me to think. She played me for an absolute fool, with those big blue eyes and dumb-ass dimple.” Aha, at last, the root of the problem, Ginette mused, perched on the edge of the bed. It seemed obvious to her there was more going on for Victoria than just monetary loss. But Ginette needed her to focus on the important things, like lost millions. And her own meager portion of it. This money had to be recouped, and quickly, before the trail went cold. After that, Vic could do whatever she liked with the two-faced scumbag.

  “At least I didn’t sleep with her,” she said casually. It bugged her a little. This was the first salient sign that she and Victoria were truly over and moving on. And with that dirty, double-crossing con artist, of all people.

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “We know who she is, we know the starting point is Monaco, and we know we have the resources to find a pin chip in a haystack.” Ginette got down to business.

  Victoria stared at her, face stern, jaw clenched. It seemed her razor sharp mind was whetted for action. There would be no ridiculous emotions clouding her mind this time, blinding her to cold, hard facts and realistic thinking. Ginette could see the old anger rise in her eyes. Yes, arise, my beauty. Arise and avenge me! “You could have sunk me, Vic, but you didn’t. Instead, you were my Get Out of Jail Free card. I owe you, but let’s face it, when have I not? And more than anything, I want my money back. She stole from me, too, Vic. Granted, not as much, but it was all I had. Let’s go after her. Let’s hunt her down and kick that high-up, sexy ass. Let’s show her nobody messes with Victoria Gresham and enjoys the dawn.”

  ❖

  Two days later, Victoria sat at her poolside table, reading the business pages and sipping a tall vodka and tonic. Her cell phone beeped. She checked the caller ID, then lifted it to her ear. “Ginette…And you’re certain…The cash definitely came out of Monaco as sterling…Then back to U.S. dollars. Wow, somebody’s trying to cover their trail. Okay, I want you to discreetly make inquiries. My guts say the Caribbean, too. Check out all the currency rates…No, the closer we get, the less I want my name used…Good.” The call ended.

  She sat and watched the breeze ripple the surface of the pool.

  Her net was slowly closing in on one Michaela Rapowski, aka Mickey. She smiled to herself. How droll. The casual nickname she had given her was perhaps the only honest thing between them.

  She had instructed her lackeys to retrieve passport, immigration, family, insurance, educational information, anything they could find on the elusive Mickey Rapowski, though she doubted they’d find much. Ginette was following trails of sterling turned dollar out of the last depository they knew of in Monaco. Somewhere, with a little bit of luck, Mickey would eventually let her guard down and feel safe enough to start spending her ill-gotten gains.

  Hopefully, they could pick up on it.

  Sipping her drink, she allowed herself a small, appreciative smile. The double-cross was perfect, crystalline in its perfection now that she could see right through it. For the hundredth time she played the moves over in her mind.

  Victoria now realized that coming out of the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, Mickey knew exactly who she wanted to target. Probably long before she even joined Victoria’s company, she must have been auditing Victoria’s darker dealings.

  Playing on Ginette’s greed, she allowed herself to be ripped off, set up as a victim, and inveigled into Ginette’s criminal plan. She had actively helped Ginette with the finer points, making it seem like a team effort.

  Victoria had smiled grimly at her own little maxim: There’s only ME and MEAT on my team. Seemed Mickey played the same game.

  All Mickey had to do was make Victoria believe she wasn’t the intended kidnap victim. Then she could plant a seed that something was going wrong with the ransom payment and let Victoria think she was being double-crossed by Ginette. That part was easy because it was true.

  Even when it all went pear shaped and Victoria had overpowered her, Mickey had stayed calm and let the game run on like a roulette wheel. Leaving the ball to drop where it may.

  It landed well for her. Victoria had picked up on the finances moving around and panicked, as she was supposed to.

  Mickey deliberately let Victoria witness the accounts Ginette had given her passes to being emptied, the money crossing the globe along the well-worn illegal routes Victoria knew like the back of her hand.

  Her fears about Ginette’s sticky fingers were reinforced. All along, Mickey kept her off balance, playing on her fears that her tax evasion hoards were being siphoned off by Ginette. Mickey had worked Victoria’s greed in the same way she worked on Ginette’s.

  Had the seduction also been planned, to keep her distracted, befuddled? Because it had worked like a charm. Spellbinding her even into the present day. Victoria sighed, heart heavy.

  Like a fool, she handed over her other account details, and then slept as her funds were casually transferred over hours and borders. Channeled through her own money-laundering routes and offshore companies. When it was done and the money was where she wanted it, Mickey awakened her, and kissed her, and no doubt would have slept with her again,
before disappearing for good.

  Ginette’s surprise arrival had at least saved that little embarrassment. What a strange night it turned out to be. Mickey crashing through a burning building to save her life. Ginette’s bumbling appearance saving her heart. Or had it?

  Could she ever put a price on what Mickey had really stolen?

  Could she ever recover any of it? Run. Run as far and as fast as you can, Mickey. I’m pulling the world apart to find you.

  Chapter Nine

  Mickey looked across the white stretch of sand to the small oceanfront condominium resort she was now the proud owner of. The azure Caribbean waters of Cayman Brac caressed the bobbing hull of her gleaming thirty-eight-foot sloop.

  She stood on the oiled teak deck of the Green Eyed Monster as she gazed back down into the aquamarine depths. Somewhere down there, if the light was just right and the tide was turning, she swore she could see the same emerald green that made her pulse flutter and her heart leap. She stood transfixed and watched as bittersweet memories washed through her, ebbing and flowing like the warm waters below. Loneliness lapped at her empty hull of a heart, pouring into every chamber. She waited, rolling on idle waves until it came, that soft caressing green, like Victoria’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, Mickey pushed off the wood deck and dived in.

  Soon she was several hundred yards away from her vessel, farther than originally intended, but she couldn’t resist following a small darting school of French grunts along the coral head.

  Bedazzled by queen angelfish and shy blue chromis, she was happy to follow their lead. It was therapeutic to watch the swirling colors and beautiful marine life of these balmy waters.

  Over these past few weeks, she had come to know this small bay intimately. From now until midmorning, it belonged to her and her alone, except for the local fishermen who puttered by in their small pirogues on their way to drop nets. It had become her daily custom to dive or swim in the tiny cove in the early morning before returning to her business venture.

  Green Eyed Monster had become a regular sight for this small sea-bound community. Mickey whiled away her days sailing and getting better acquainted with the little lady she hoped to spend the remaining years of her life with. Her plan was to disappear for a few years just bumming around the Caribbean and east coast of the Americas on her favorite thirty-eight-foot girl.

  A quick glance at her watch indicated her ABT, or “actual bottom time,” was closing. She headed back unhurriedly, relaxed and happy at starting another day on this beautiful island. She surfaced and shucked her cylinder and fins onto the broad bottom rung of the stern ladder. She hoisted herself up first, hauling her kit behind her, and was soon safely onboard. She had discarded her mask and regulator before she noticed the set of wet footprints across the teak deck. Frowning at a foot size not her own, she cautiously monitored them as they crossed to the deck hatch and disappeared below.

  She remembered the small boat engine she’d heard coming and going earlier. Could someone have taken advantage of her absence to burgle the boat? That would have been unheard of in the local boating community. But still, the damp patches on the deck told their own story. It had to be the electronic equipment that attracted a thief. There was nothing else of value aboard.

  Steeling herself for a bunch of ripped out and severed cables, Mickey headed toward the cabin hoping the vandalism wouldn’t be too great. She ducked to descend the steps and slowly approached her navigation table. All the equipment looked intact.

  What was going on here? What did the intruder want? She carried no money or guns onboard, and why weren’t there any footprints leaving the cabin?

  Her eyes widened in the fraction of a second it took for the answer to sink in. And in that same second a sharp blow to the back of the head sent her spinning down into the depths of oblivion.

  ❖

  The low thrum of the Perkins diesel and the soft roll of the hull woke Mickey into a world of pain. She tenderly touched her head and groaned. There was a nasty bump, but the skin hadn’t broken. It ached like hell. She fumbled for the first aid box and swallowed a couple of strong painkillers.

  Motionless, she trained her ears to pick up any clues as to who had knocked her out and apparently hijacked her boat. A quick sweep beneath deck assured her there was no one lurking down here with her. She could hear no footsteps above either, but someone was in control of the vessel. The running engine told her she hadn’t been set adrift. But what had her assailant been after?The electronics were still intact. On closer inspection, they had all been carefully disabled. If she had the right tools, she could have easily reconnected to the outside world and called for help. But of course, the right tools were in a locker in the cockpit.

  Someone obviously knew what they were doing.

  Finally, she moved toward the latched mahogany doors. A gentle push confirmed they were locked from the outside. With her eye to the vent grill, she could just make out a pair of dusky bare feet placed boldly on either side of the ship’s wheel. From the size, she guessed that they belonged to a woman and had made the wet tracks she had followed earlier. She also guessed this was her lone assailant. This was the woman who had knocked her out and taken her yacht. But why?

  ❖

  “Can you see anything? What if we’ve lost her? What if she’s running from us? That’s not her usual course. Why do you think she’s heading north today? Should we follow?” Ginette asked.

  “No, I can’t see anything, but I can hear something,” Victoria replied.

  “Oh? What?”

  “You,” Victoria snapped, lowering her binoculars. “Will you stop yammering in my ear for one second so I can focus?” Ginette sniffed indignantly from behind the wheel of the rented powerboat. “So you can’t multitask? Can’t look and listen?

  Good thing you’re only tracking the woman who stole your illicit millions. Heaven forbid you were trying to cross a road.”

  “Got her. Two clicks north.” Victoria was peering intently through the lens again.

  “Two clicks? We’re in the Caribbean, not ’Nam. What the hell does two clicks mean?”

  Without breaking her link with the binoculars, Victoria pointed in the direction she wanted the boat to steer. With a vicious spin on the wheel, Ginette hid a grin as Victoria lost her balance and thumped inelegantly down onto the seat beside her.

  Their small powerboat bounced over the waves, intent on following the sleek, white yacht at a discreet distance.

  ❖

  The feet had moved, and no matter how frantically Mickey swiveled her eye, she still couldn’t see where the hijacker had gone. She silently cursed her limited field of vision through the vent aperture. All she could see was a few yards of deck at eye level, and then the blue Caribbean sky over the transom.

  They had been motoring for hours, and in between bouts of trying to spy and sitting morosely on her bunk, Mickey was beginning to fume. Her shouts had been ignored, whether she chose to threaten or bribe. She still had no idea why any of this was happening. Was it piracy? Stealing her boat for gain, or was Mickey herself the target?

  Eventually, the vessel slowed to a stop and the anchor winch rattled out a length of chain. It seemed they had arrived at some sort of destination. A peek through the porthole told her it was the middle of nowhere. Maybe now her questions would be answered. Face pressed against the warm wood of the door, she peered through the small vent looking for clues. Suddenly, a dark brown eye glared right back at her through the tiny opening.

  “Boo.”

  Mickey whipped back, alarmed.

  “Gotcha.” She heard the deep throaty chuckles, then a growl.

  “Hey, I’m coming below now, so stand back. I’m armed, and if you even twitch I’ll shoot you in the guts without a blink, got it?” The latch clicked, and Mickey cautiously backed off as the small mahogany doors opened, allowing sunlight to stream into the dark wooden interior. The bulky Glock 33 glinted evilly as she was waved even farther into the recesses of the main c
abin.

  “That’s right now. Hands on your head where I can see them.”

  The owner of the semiautomatic slowly descended the wooden treads into the cabin. “Turn round. Arms behind you.” The woman darted quickly forward as Mickey complied, and with a double click, cuffed Mickey’s wrists together. Mickey was then spun around and pushed down to perch on a bunk.

  “Who the hell are you and what—hnghf—” A bandanna appeared, and she was gagged before she could complete her angry question.

  Her assailant stood back with a cocky grin. Her grip on the Glock relaxed, letting it hang from her neck on a lanyard, and she folded her arms across her muscular chest. A gleaming smile flashed across a handsome dark face, framed with long, finely twisted dreads, pulled back and tied at her neck with a red cord.

  “I’m Bar Jack, and I’m your hostess for today. Now if you’ll excuse me, I see we have some company. A little powerboat’s been trailing us all morning, so I guess I better go and make them welcome.”

  With a chuckle, the dark woman turned to leave, clearly satisfied Mickey would not be a nuisance while she dealt with this new threat. As she disappeared above, she called nonchalantly over her shoulder, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Gresham. Welcome aboard.”

  Chapter Ten

  For the better part of the day, Victoria and Ginette had attempted to look like sun-seeking tourists, zooming about in their rental powerboat, blending with other pleasure craft. And always just on the periphery of the yacht’s heading.

  The movements of the white sloop had made no sense, weaving at first in a northerly direction, and then veering off into the shallower waters of a tidal shelf closer to Little Cayman than Cayman Brac. A popular fishing spot, it lay deserted by late afternoon.

  This behavior was not the usual routine for Mickey’s typical midweek sail, as far as Victoria’s privately procured information was concerned. She had paid handsomely for a concise account of Mickey’s movements, to be as prepared as possible. Uncertain of her next step, Victoria slowly followed the yacht into the scattered group of reef and rock.