“Let's see what's going on.”
She tapped in Riser's number. She got his Voice Mail and left the message as to where and when they'd meet. She added that Frank Hanssen would be at the meeting as well.
Bonnie Riser listened to the message, then passed it on to her husband.
As they neared the marina, Elia said, “I'm telling you right now, I'm not getting on a boat with those two.”
Riser looked up the number for management at Bohicket Marina and placed a call. Then he talked with Hanssen. “I booked one of those second floor spaces the marina rents out so we can talk privately. If you don't see us when you get there, I got Suite 202 above the boat rentals.”
He snapped his phone shut than looked startled. “I didn't see you. What are you doing here?”
“I live here.” Bonnie had her handbag over her shoulder. “I'm going out.”
“Where?”
“Out.” She left the house without another word.
Chapter 96
Bonnie Riser arrived at Bohicket Marina twenty minutes later. Lorraine Fegan was right behind her. They parked their cars at the far end of the parking lot and walked together to the patio area in front of shops that faced the water and the myriad of neatly docked boats. Fegan had a large shopping bag.
“What's in the bag? What are we going to do?”
“I know exactly what we're going to do.” Before she said another word, she stopped and looked closely at Bonnie, then at the shopping bag. “Go back to the car and watch for them to arrive.” She held up her cell phone. “Call me when you see any one of them.” She started to walk away, then turned back. “And don't let them see you.” Fegan walked in the direction of Suite 202.
When Elia and Luis arrived, Riser and Hanssen were sitting on a concrete bench facing the water engaged in deep conversation. They both stood. Riser pointed to a seat set at a ninety-degree angle to the bench he and Hanssen occupied. There was an awkward silence as they sat. Finally Riser broke it. “We have to talk.”
Luis nodded. Since they hadn't called this meeting, he and Elia had decided to let Hanssen and Riser run it — for awhile.
“First of all, you have to know I didn't know anything about this.” Riser paused. “Until lately.” He looked at Hanssen, then looked around the marina. “Look, we have a lot to talk about, but not here.”
Elia looked at the boats and felt her heart skip a beat. Riser followed her gaze. He pointed behind him. “I rented office space so we can talk in private.”
“We can talk out here,” Luis said.
“Please.” Hanssen spoke for the first time. “This is long and involved. I had no idea things would get this bad. It started with your friend.”
Luis started to object.
Hanssen held up his hands. “No. Pereda didn't do anything wrong; he was trying to help.” He shook his head. “It got him killed.”
“You know who killed him?” Elia asked, anxiously leaning forward.
“I know why. I'm not sure who.” Hanssen said.
“I think I do,” came from Riser.
Luis and Elia stared at Riser. “Are you going to tell us?” Luis said.
Riser stood. He pointed to the second floor of a wall of windows behind him. “Please. Let's get out of here.”
Luis looked at the two men. Both looked guileless, lost, sad. He shifted his gaze to Elia. She gave him an imperceptible nod.
They followed Hanssen and Riser to the side of the building and started up the stairs that hugged the outside of the building.
“I'll be there in a minute,” Elia said. She motioned toward the ladies room. Luis glanced at her then followed the others upstairs.
Lorraine Fegan joined Bonnie Riser in the parking lot. “I saw them go upstairs.” She looked at her watch. “Go on; I'll meet you at your house.”
“You never told me what we're going to do.”
Fegan looked at her for a moment without answering, her lips pressed together in disgust as if she were sucking on a lemon. “Do you really want to know? Go home.”
“Lorraine, maybe we should slow down for awhile.”
“Later. Go home.”
Bonnie shrugged, a twenty-first century Pontius Pilate hand washing, and got into her car.
Fegan watched her drive away, then pulled out a small black box. She tapped the button on the detonator as calmly as if she were tapping in a number on her cell phone.
Elia was about to climb the stairs when the door to 202 blew out and debris flew over the patio. She looked confused, then ran upstairs, screaming. “Luis! No!” Fire slammed out of the room. She didn't hear the sirens already sounding, the running feet, the screams.
She pushed herself to the door. “Luis!” she screamed.
Someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her away from the heat. She struggled to break free. “Leave me alone.” She was sobbing, and swallowed gulps of hot air. “My husband's in there.” She pushed away and leaned against the wall sobbing. “Luis,” she said softly.
More running feet. Someone grabbed her again and pulled her away from the searing wall. Arms wrapped around her.
“No!” She fought the hold and thrashed to escape her captor. She turned to face the person who denied her her grief. Before she could scream, her head lolled back and all went black. She was caught before she hit the floor.
Fegan stood among the thrill seekers watching the drama play out in quiet Bohicket Marina. When she saw Elia being half carried out, half walked out, she swore. The people watching the scene looked at her and, almost as though it were planned, frowned in unison. She was even more profane when she saw who was walking with Elia.
Chapter 97
“Madison, get me Lorraine Fegan,” Millen told his secretary on the way to his office. “I want to see her now.” He emphasized now.
His secretary entered his office two minutes later with a stack of messages and one of her own. “Lorraine's out of town for a day or two.” She set the messages on his desk in a neat pile. “I asked.” She smiled at him. “I knew what you were going to say.”
“Well?” He wasn't in any mood to play games.
“Her secretary made reservations for Charleston. She said she'll have Lorraine stop by when she returns.”
He pushed back from his desk and turned to look out his window. The parking lot below wasn't particularly soothing, but the tree-filled field beyond could normally relax him. Not today. “Get me to Charleston ASAP.” He ignored his messages and brushed past Madison on the way out. “I'm on my way to the airport. Have the company plane waiting for me.”
She leaned against Luis as he lowered her onto a bench; the smell, heat, and chaotic activity adding to her anxiety. “I thought you were in there,” she said.
“I thought you were.” His voice was raspy, his face drawn.
“How could you do that to me? I saw you!” She broke down; tears flowed. She wiped them away with the back of a hand. “I saw you go up the stairs when I went into the ladies room. Where were you?”
“I went back to the car to get Vicente's papers.” He put his arms around his wife. “It's okay, it's okay.” He took a breath and released it slowly.
They sat quietly amidst the madness unfolding in front of them. Elia broke the silence. “That wasn't to scare us; that was to kill us.”
Luis only nodded.
“But Jake and and Frank?” She looked over at the blown out window, the fire still smoldering. “We were supposed to be in there; they were going to step out, and then bang? The bomb — or whatever that was — went off too early?” She chewed on a nail as she considered her words.
“Or maybe we had it all wrong. Hanssen and Riser had nothing to do with any of this?” Luis stared at the boats in the marina, a frown creasing his face. “But the dive. Your hose cut. If we eliminate Scharff, Hanssen, and Riser, we're left with Bonnie Riser.”
“But, Luis, her husband. She killed her husband.”
“She was in Bermuda, here when Scharff's car was ru
n off the road, here when you ran on the beach.”
“It was Jake I saw on the road that morning on the beach.”
“I can't figure that out. And Millen? I don't get it,” Luis said.
“Our trip through New England. He knew about it.”
“Who did he tell?”
She frowned. “Lorraine Fegan?”
Luis drew himself back and looked at Elia. “How do you know he told her?”
“I don't. But he could have. Look over there at that mess. Explosives. Fegan majored in chemistry.”
“Slow down, chica. We've spent the last two weeks suspecting three men who are now dead. He stood and took her by the hand. “You able to walk to the car?”
“I'm fine.” She held tightly to his hand.
“We've been so wrong about this. Let's go home.”
She nodded her assent. “Home.”
¤
“Jake? You killed Jake? And Frank?” Bonnie's shock showed through in her breathless question. Her eyes were glass, her face twisted in anguish. “Jake?”
“Oh knock it off. You didn't care about Jake when you were screwing Frank. Or anyone else.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you serious? You're a tramp. You've screwed more guys than a New York street walker.”
A slow cynical smile spread across Bonnie's face. “Jealous. You are jealous. I had the guys in college — and even now — and you had your job. And Frank.” She smirked. Not biblically, of course.
She continued, “It was Frank who helped us make a pile of money with his astute investing. Sure, you gave him the drug information so he could manipulate the market in our favor, but you stupid woman. You killed our golden goose.”
Chapter 98
Before they reached the hotel, Elia's cell phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and looked at the display.
“Raf? Is everything okay? Where are you?”
“Everything and everyone is fine, Elia. I'm in Pittsburgh. I've been meeting with my spiritual director and talked with the bishop.”
“And?”
“And I'm on leave for two months.”
“Until you decide?”
“Something like that.” He waited a beat. “I just need time to think and pray.”
“Will you return to Colombia?” Now it was her turn to take a beat. “I mean if you decide to continue in the priesthood.”
“I made my vows. I'll always be a priest, but, well, Sis, let's talk about this later. What about you? Are you all right? You sound kind of, I don't know, down. Are you okay?”
“I'm fine. A lot has happened. Long story.”
“Where are you? With cell phones, I never know where I'm calling.”
“Kiawah.” She looked over at Luis, who was turning down the road to The Sanctuary. “Since we left Bermuda, our troubles have continued.” She proceeded with the litany of their adventures and ended with the explosion at Bohicket Marina.
“Today? Put Luis on.”
She handed Luis her phone. Luis had a short conversation. He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Elia. “Raf's coming. I'm booking a room for him.”
¤
“Raf gets in about ten.” Luis looked at his watch. He sat beside Elia, his arm around her, her head resting on his chest.
She stretched and yawned. “Okay. Give me a minute.”
“Honey, you're tired. Stay here. I'll pick him up and bring him here after he checks into his room.”
“You don't mind?”
He kissed her on the nose and hugged her tightly. “I'd do anything for you. Even make an airport run for your brother.”
“Tell you what. Call me when you get close, and I'll meet you in the lobby.” She reached for her phone that was plugged into the charger. “I'll be ready; and so will my phone.”
He stood and looked around for his keys, spied them, and stashed them in a pocket. He pulled Elia to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “Quite a day.” He buried his face in her hair.
She looked up and met his eyes. “I love you, Luis.” She disentangled herself. “Go on, guapo, my handsome husband. I'll meet you in the lobby.” She gave him a quick kiss and shooed him out the door.
When he left she filled the tub and lowered herself into the hot water. She turned on the jets and let herself drift off as the jets massaged her tense body.
What happened today? She asked herself. Were Frank and Jake setting up an ambush for us when we stepped in the room? Did they mess up and set off the explosion too early?
But what excuse would they have used to leave us in that room while they conveniently left? She shook her head. I don't get it. What is so important that people are being murdered?
She dressed and put on a touch of lipstick. As she swiveled the tube to close it, she stopped midway. “But why?” She set the lipstick on the bathroom counter and looked in the mirror and talked to her reflection. “Motive. What's the motive?”
She was startled by the ring of her cell phone. She checked caller ID. “You got the package?”
“Yep. Raf is all wrapped up nice and neat.”
“Where are you?”
“Just getting off 526. We'll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Good. I'll order some sandwiches and meet you in the lobby in thirty. I have a theory.”
“Oh?”
“I think Jake and Frank botched the job. Thirty minutes. We'll talk about it then.”
She put her cell phone in her pocket and left the suite. But her theory would soon be shot to hell.
Chapter 99
Harry Millen sat at the bar and commiserated with Phil the barman. He had flown out of White Plains on the company's private jet and arrived late afternoon. The trip south afforded him several hours of undisturbed thinking. He still didn't know what he was going to do, but he knew he had to do something. He promised Jeannie. They owed Pavnor.
“Trust, Phil. We should be able to trust that what we put in our bodies is safe.” He rambled on. “And effective.”
Phil wiped the hardwood of the counter with a clean cloth. He had been on the receiving end of many one-way conversations, so he just nodded and said nothing.
“We think every pill we swallow has been reviewed and approved by the FDA. False sense of security, that's what we get for our stupidity. For our laziness.” He took a long pull on his Scotch, set the glass on the bar and swiveled his finger over it and pointed to the melting ice at the bottom. He pointed to Phil, then to his empty glass.
Phil set another drink, Millen's third, in front of him and took the empty glass away. The drinks on the plane had fortified him even more for what lay ahead. He wasn't sure what that was yet.
“Do you know that unapproved drugs can be sold here? In the good ol’ U.S.A?” Another pull on his drink. “Oh, sure, the FDA says that's only two percent of all prescriptions filled by pharmacies.” He glared at the barman. He raised his voice. “That's close to 72 million unapproved meds a year!”
He took a deep breath. Then another. He took hold of Phil's arm. The barman skillfully broke the hold. “Do you think I have a beef with the FDA? Well, I don't.” He stared down at his drink and now spoke in a soft voice. “No I don't. My beef lies elsewhere.” He looked at his watch. “What time does Mad Money come on down here? I want to make a call. Another one.”
Chapter 100
Elia took the elevator to the first floor and stopped at the Jasmine Porch to order sandwiches and hot chocolate to be ready in a half hour. Then she walked past the spiral staircase toward the lobby.
There were several seating arrangements throughout the generous room. Even with the eighteenth century furniture, the room seemed cozy. A fire crackled in the huge stone fireplace, and even though it was a warm evening, it didn't throw off enough heat to warm such a large room.
At the opposite end of the room from the fireplace, and at the entrance to the bar, a pianist played soft music. Elia sat near the fireplace and could see that a few people sat at
the bar, and several tables were occupied as well. She didn't even look at them; she was so engrossed in her thoughts. But she was noticed.
Her attention was drawn to the fireplace, the fire so tame compared to the fire and explosion she witnessed that afternoon.
The music across the room was melancholy, or maybe it was her mood.
She walked to the wall of windows and stood next to the door and peered through the glass. Lights shone on the carefully manicured lawn. She pushed on the heavy door and stepped out onto the patio that faced the lawn and the ocean beyond. She ambled across the lawn to the boardwalk.
Her phone vibrated. “Luis?”
“It's Raf. I hear you have some food for us. I'm famished.”
“Why am I not surprised? It'll be ready when you get here. I'll meet you in the lobby.”
“I hear the ocean.”
I'm outside walking on the boardwalk. It's lovely here, Raf. I'm so glad you're coming.”
“Hold on; Luis wants the phone.
“Where are you?”
“I'm right here at The Sanctuary. On the boardwalk.”
“Go back inside. Get off the beach. Please.” It wasn't a request.
“I'm not on the beach.” She looked back toward the hotel. “And I'm not alone; there are two women out here walking this way.”
“Please.” Now he pleaded.
“I'm on my way. See you in the lobby in about half hour?” She shook her head. Peruanos, she thought. Just like Mom. I should be used to them.
“Half an hour.”
They clicked off and Elia walked toward the lights of the hotel. Because the lights shone in her eyes, it was difficult to see the women who were almost upon her.
“Hello, Elia.”
Luis slammed on the brakes. Raf shot toward the windshield, his seatbelt holding him back. The car behind him swerved and squealed.
“Mierda!” He let up on the brake and sped toward Kiawah. “Call her back,” he ordered his brother-in-law.
Die Before Your Time (Elia Christie / Luis Echevarria medical mysteries) Page 22