Bluewater Enigma_Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series

by Charles Dougherty

  "Why did that make her uncomfortable?" Luke asked. "Something Norris said?"

  "Partly," Liz said. "But also because Norris wasn't in very good shape."

  "What happened to him?" Luke asked.

  "Sharktooth happened to him," Dani said. "Norris put up a fight when Sharktooth caught him breaking into Vengeance." She winked at Liz.

  "Where's this Norris now?" Luke asked.

  "Sharktooth said he escaped," Liz said. "but we probably don't want to ask too many questions about that. You know Sharktooth. Anyway, the video upset Beverly enough so that she wants to change sides."

  "She seems pretty rattled by this whole situation," Dani said.

  "Can't say as I blame her," Luke said. "I interrupted you. Anything else that you picked up from her?"

  "No, I think we've covered everything. We thought maybe you could check out LaRosa," Dani said.

  "I'll definitely do that," Luke said, "and let me know what she says about Berto, okay?"

  "Sure," Dani said.

  "Wait," Liz said. "She gave us a phone number for Berto; that's all she knows about him." She gave Luke the telephone number.

  "Okay," Luke said. "That's a start. See what else you can get from her, especially on the 'boss' question."

  "Okay," Dani said. "Anything else?"

  "No, I think that's it," Luke said. "Let's stick to you two calling when you can talk, rather than me calling you."

  "Right," Dani said. "We'll be in touch after we talk with her again."

  Montalba was enjoying the morning's first cup of coffee when the SpecCorp phone rang.

  "Yes?" he said.

  "It's Delaney. Did you get the instructions for swapping out the disk drive okay?"

  "Yes, thank you. It looks straightforward."

  "Yeah. She shouldn't have any trouble. Just let me know when and where to drop off the replacement drive."

  "I'll do that. I haven't forwarded the instructions to her yet, but I will do it soon. I may just have her exchange it at the end of the charter. That will be in Rodney Bay, St. Lucia, in a few days."

  "That'll be easy, then. No problem getting her a replacement there. That's not why I called, though. I wanted to run the plan for Mike McGuire by you."

  "Very well," Montalba said. "Go ahead."

  "One of our lobbyists knows the younger brother; sees him fairly often. She's having lunch with him today. I had her go ahead and set that up. If you don't like the plan, it's not a big deal. She's got other stuff she can talk to him about, but I figured we should move fast on this."

  "Why would we bother with Pat?" Montalba asked. "Why not go directly to Mike?"

  "Two reasons. One is access. Our lobbyist knows Pat McGuire well; this would be a natural thing for her to pass on to him. The second is the increased impact. Mike's going to be much more upset that this rumor is making the rounds in Washington than he would be about a local scandal. It'll seem harder to contain."

  "I see," Montalba said. "What is she going to tell him, then?"

  "She's already had conversations with him about his brother-in-law's possible run for the nomination, so it'll be natural enough for her to pass along this rumor she's picked up about him. She'll tell Pat McGuire that word is somebody's set a trap for Velasquez down in the islands, that he's on a yacht with his mistress right now."

  "I suppose that will incense Mike McGuire, but how does it lead them away from us? I thought you wanted to lay a trail to Mike."

  "She'll let Pat know that she discovered this because her client, SpecCorp, has had a problem. Several of their people have bailed out and are freelancing; they stole some surveillance gear and cut a deal with somebody — she doesn't know who, but there's speculation about some divorce lawyer. The ring leader's some ex-navy SEAL named Norris."

  "Ah. That sounds plausible. It doesn't shift the blame to Mike McGuire, but I suppose that doesn't matter as much as leading them away from us."

  "It may or may not shift the blame to him. We think Mike McGuire will probably take some kind of action. He and Pat aren't supposed to be close. Our lobbyist is gonna try to lead Pat to think maybe his brother's behind this. I mean, his sister's married to this asshole, right? Mike McGuire's the kind of guy that would want to kick his ass, from what we've been able to learn. So Pat may just buy that his brother's behind it. If not, then the wife or her lawyer will get blamed, if anybody's looking to blame somebody."

  "I see," Montalba said. "Is your person going to do anything else to further these ideas?"

  "She'll play it by ear. She's got the web address for the tracker we put on the boat. She may give that to Pat if it seems like the right thing at the time. It's part of the stuff Norris stole, supposedly. He wouldn't have known that the company kept a record of the web address and all that stuff."

  "A web address for the tracker?" Montalba asked. "What does that mean?"

  "It's a commercial tracking device. They're dirt cheap these days. It broadcasts a GPS position via satellite every hour to the manufacturer's computer, and they put it on the web. People use them for all kinds of things. Boaters do it so their family can keep up with them. Same for hikers, hunters, like that."

  "So just anyone can track the boat, then?" Montalba asked.

  "Not just anybody. You have to have the web address and login credentials."

  "Interesting," Montalba said. "I could track them?"

  "Yeah, sure. You want me to email you the details?"

  "Yes, please. What do your people think Mike McGuire's likely to do?"

  "Like I said, he's probably gonna kick Velasquez's ass. That's what I'd do. Maybe break up the marriage. Who the hell knows? I don't figure it makes any difference to us. If McGuire blows it sky high, that'll end Velasquez's candidacy, so we get what we want. If he hushes it up, we've got the recordings your gal's making of Velasquez doing the dirty with her. Either way, he's finished. What do you think?"

  "It may work," Montalba said.

  "Is that a 'go ahead?'"

  "Yes," Montalba said. "Go ahead. When will it happen? Did you say they are having lunch today?"

  "Yeah. Their lunch date's at one o'clock.'

  "I want the details," Montalba said.

  "Sure, no problem. She'll be recording their conversation."

  "Is that normal?" Montalba asked.

  "Well, not quite, but it's not that unusual, either. I want to be able to show that the McGuires knew SpecCorp wasn't behind it — that keeps you and me both clean, right? Just in case?"

  Montalba said, "Send me a copy of the recording, please."

  "Yeah, okay. No sweat. I'll include the transcription, too. Sometimes it's tough to make out everything on the recording. But our gal on the scene will help clean it up. That's why we do transcripts right away."

  "Good. Keep me posted on how this unfolds."

  "No problem. I'll give you a call once I've emailed that stuff to you."

  Mike McGuire had returned from a late lunch to find an urgent voice mail from his younger brother. He dialed his brother's private line in Washington, surprised when Pat answered after one ring. "Hey, Mike?"

  "Yeah. Pat?"

  "Yeah, it's me."

  Mike McGuire frowned. "I haven't heard from you in forever. Something wrong?"

  "Yeah. I just picked up some gossip I thought you ought to know about."

  "So tell me."

  "Our shithead brother-in-law's running around on Miranda."

  "So? That's news?"

  "It is when somebody hires people to document it on video."

  "You shitting me? Where'd you get that from?"

  "Somebody I know. I gotta keep her name out of it."

  "One of your floozies, little brother?"

  "It doesn't matter," Patrick McGuire said. "Somebody's setting the dumbass up. We don't need that."

  "Who's behind it? You know?"

  "Uh-uh. Rumor is it's some divorce lawyer, but if there's video, or even photos, it's bound to leak once he starts getting more press
coverage. Then we're screwed."

  "Damn Miranda," Mike said.

  "Damn Miranda? Why damn Miranda? She hasn't done anything."

  "Yeah, exactly. If she was any kind of wife, he wouldn't do shit like this."

  "Come on, Mike. That's horseshit, and you know it. That Cuban son of a bitch never could keep it in his pants. And that's beside the point, anyway. We both have a lot riding on him getting the nomination."

  "And I guess you want me to fix things," Mike said. "Like always."

  "You're the one with the contacts, Mike."

  "Yeah, yeah, mister hot-shot Washington lawyer. Don't want to get your hands dirty, do you?"

  "This isn't something I can handle, Mike. Don't give me a ration of shit, okay? I do my part; you do yours."

  "What exactly do you think I should do?"

  "Go get the dumb bastard and send him home with his tail between his legs, like usual, I guess."

  "Where is he?"

  "You're gonna love this. He's on a damn luxury charter yacht down in the Caribbean with his latest mistress and two other women."

  "Three women? He's upped his game."

  "Yeah," Pat said. "Maybe, maybe not. They're the crew."

  "The two extra women? Crew?"

  "They run the yacht, supposedly."

  "My ass, they run the yacht," Mike said. "You don't believe that, do you?"

  "It doesn't matter, Mike. The problem is, there's three women involved in this that could wreck our plans. You need to get him outta this mess and make sure they aren't gonna talk."

  "You know where they are? Exactly?" Mike asked.

  "Yeah. There's a tracker on the yacht. I'll email you the details, but you — "

  "A tracker? Who the hell put a tracker on the yacht?"

  "That's a long story. Just trust me, we got lucky on this one. You gotta move quick. The charter's supposed to end in a few days. After that, it'll be tougher to deal with the women. And the longer we wait, the more likely it is there'll be a leak. Right now, it's kind of contained."

  "Shit!" Mike said. "All right. Send me what you got. What do you think I should do about the women?"

  "That's out of my realm of experience. I trust you to convince them not to come back to bite us. That's what you're good at."

  "Uh-huh. You don't want to know. That it, baby brother?"

  "Like I said before, I do my part; you do yours. The less we know about each other's business, the safer for everybody."

  "Maybe I should just waste the piece of shit and be done with it," Mike said.

  "Don't say things like that, Mike."

  "Why? You gonna tell somebody?"

  "No, but we've got too much invested in setting him up for this run at the White House. Christ, we've been working toward this since we first fixed him up with Miranda. We can't let the asshole ruin it now. All we need him to do is stay straight for a couple of years."

  "He still has to beat O'Toole in the primary. That's no sure thing."

  "Let me worry about that. O'Toole's too cocky for his own good. Shit's gonna happen. Trust me."

  "What kind of shit?"

  "You don't want to know, Mike. Believe me."

  "Okay. Send me the info. I gotta round up my troops and get the plane warmed up. You gonna tell Miranda?"

  "Yeah, I'll talk to her," Pat said. "Let me hear when it's done; I'll make sure she's ready to take him back, one more time."

  "Yeah," Mike said, disconnecting the call.

  19

  "You wore him out, didn't you?" Dani asked, chuckling at the sound of Harry's snoring. He was sprawled in a hammock in the shade of the foredeck awning, exhausted from snorkeling. She and Liz and Beverly were in the cockpit, drinking fruit punch.

  "He doesn't get much exercise," Beverly said. "Physical fitness isn't important to him, except for women. He wants them to be in peak condition." She shook her head, smiling. "Did you find out anything from your friend in Miami while we were gone?"

  "We talked with him," Liz said. "He knows who Manny LaRosa is, and he confirmed what you said about him. LaRosa's a nasty piece of work, according to him."

  "What about Berto?” Beverly asked.

  "He was going to do a little work on that; the name didn't mean anything to him. He'll try putting it in context with LaRosa, I imagine," Dani said.

  "But he did want us to ask you about Berto again," Liz said.

  A vertical crease appeared between Beverly's eyebrows. "I don't know any more than what I told you."

  "No, we understand," Liz said, "but he was curious about Manny's characterization of Berto as 'the boss.' Do you think he meant Berto was his boss, or just the boss in terms of Berto's dealings with you?"

  "Now that's a good question," Beverly said, raising her right hand and stroking her cheek as she gazed out at the turquoise water around them. After several seconds, she said, "I've been with Horry for a couple of months. I mean, just with him. Exclusively. You can't imagine how nice that is for me."

  She looked down at her hands, picking at an imaginary hangnail and chewing on her lower lip. After a brief silence, she looked up, first at Dani, then at Liz. She frowned for a second and shrugged. "You know what I am, what I've been doing. I pretend it's not, but it's a shitty way to live. Some girls don't know any better, but ... well, never mind." She shook her head.

  "We all do what we have to do, sometimes," Liz said. "That doesn't change who you are unless you let it."

  Beverly nodded. She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Okay. I'd been Horry's mistress for a couple of months, and I was comfortable with that. It was the best gig I've had since, well ... anyway, Manny called me up and told me he had a new client for me, that I should call this man named Berto. He gave me a phone number.

  "I was upset. I hid that from Manny, but it shook me up pretty badly. I asked him if that meant I wasn't supposed to continue my relationship with Horry."

  She paused, looking off into the distance for a few seconds, then continued. "He laughed at me. He has this evil laugh, sick, like. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He laughed that way once when he was ... hurting a girl. He made me watch him that time while he ... never mind."

  She shuddered and went on. "He said, 'You do what Berto says. He is the boss. If he wants you, then you are his. You don't have a choice, you dumb whore. Do I have to teach you that again?' or something like that." She stifled a sob.

  Liz nodded. "Now that some time has passed since that happened, how do you interpret his use of the word 'boss?'" she asked.

  "I think he just meant that I had to do what Berto said," Beverly said. "I don't know if Manny works for somebody else, or if he's his own boss. I never heard him say anything that made me think he had a boss, you know?"

  "Okay," Liz said. She saw Dani raise her eyebrows. Liz caught Dani's eye and nodded.

  "Did he ever use the word 'boss' to refer to any of the other men he ... ah ... " Dani asked.

  "Sent me to?" Beverly asked.

  "I guess," Dani said.

  "It's okay, Dani. It's what I did. Like Liz said, I'm not going to let it define who I am. And to answer your question, no. I don't remember him ever referring to another client that way. That could be telling, I suppose."

  "Thanks, Beverly," Liz said. "I know that wasn't easy. We'll do our best to make sure it was worth it."

  "I'm going to take a dinghy ride for a few minutes and call Luke," Dani said. "I don't want to risk Harry waking up and overhearing me." She stood and took the satellite phone from its locker in the steering pedestal.

  "Luke?" Beverly asked.

  "Our friend in Miami," Liz said.

  "Tell him to be careful; Manny's dangerous. I've heard that he's killed people, and I believe it."

  "I'll tell him," Dani said. "He's accustomed to dealing with people like that, though. Don't worry."

  "Billy?" Mike McGuire asked, when his phone call was answered.

  "Yeah?"

  "It's Mike. I got a job for y
ou and the boys."

  "Okay, boss. When?"

  "Right now. Who you got available on short notice?"

  "Me and Seamus and Joey. I can probably come up with a couple more if — "

  "Nah. You three'll be perfect. Seamus and Joey ready to go?"

  "Yeah, Mike. We're all three sittin' here in my den, watchin' the game. What's up?"

  "My dumbass brother-in-law's got his ass in a crack and doesn't even know it. We gotta go bail him out and get him home where he belongs."

  "Where's he at, then?"

  "On a friggin' sailboat, down in the islands."

  "Down in the islands where?"

  "Right now in the Tobago Cays, but there's a tracker on the boat in case they move before we get there."

  "You said short notice, Mike. When do you wanna leave?"

  "Soon as we can put all the pieces together. If we haul ass, we can probably catch 'em early tomorrow morning."

  "That's fast," Billy said. "We takin' the Lear?"

  "Yeah. I figure the Lear to San Juan, then a big twin engine turboprop to Mustique. Can't land the Lear there. Here's what I want you to do, okay?"

  "Yeah. Lay it on me."

  "Get hold of our guy in St. Vincent. We'll need a go-fast boat waitin' for us in Mustique, and get him to make sure there's nobody from customs gonna mess with us at the airstrip in Mustique. Got it?"

  "Yeah, no problem. What time you figure we'll touch down there?"

  "Say we go wheels up at Opa Locka in an hour. It's two and a half, three hours to San Juan, and roughly an hour and a half from there to Mustique. That's if I can get that guy with the Super King Air we usually use. Give us an hour to change planes and get out of San Juan, so let's say we'll touch down in Mustique around midnight, just to be safe."

  "Got it. Who we goin' up against? We gonna need extra firepower?"

  "Nah. Just his girlfriend and the two women that run the boat. Should be a piece of cake."

  "Just handguns, then?"

  "Yeah, and that's probably overkill."

  "All right, Mike. Sounds okay. So we're gonna snatch Velasquez and bring him back. What about the women?"

  "They're all yours. You each get one. How's that for a nice evening's entertainment?"