Sailing into Death (CJ Washburn, PI Book 2)

by James Paddock

"Your two friends, Hawaiian Shirt and the other guy, took me out for a boat ride. It didn't go well."

  "Oh."

  "Hawaiian Shirt is one Rory Pickens. He's being held in the city jail at the moment. The other is Samuel Blight. The last time I saw him he was flying off the back of the boat. He either drowned or swam to shore."

  She just looked at him, her mouth hanging open.

  "Do you know either of those two names?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  "Doug never mentioned them?"

  "Other than just pointing them out to me, no. Never mentioned names."

  "I know that you told Agent Taffer you'd not retain my services to find out who killed your husband."

  She started to say something but CJ put his hand up.

  "That's okay. However, my partner is arriving this afternoon and together we're going to look further into this. It's now personal for me seeing as the boat ride last night was forced upon me for the purpose of killing me and dumping me at sea. At least, that's my opinion. Also, my Tucson client is asking that I continue with the investigation."

  CJ's cell phone suddenly played a one-second tune. He pulled it out and looked at the text message.

  "My partner just boarded her flight in Tucson."

  "Your partner? As in another private investigator?"

  "Yes. Let me answer her real quick." With one finger he slowly keyed in "Okay," and then "Love U." He punched "SEND" and then put the phone away.

  "So you're bringing in help," Rebecca said.

  "Yes."

  She looked down at the Danish and then back up at CJ. "If this Roy guy..."

  "Rory," CJ corrected.

  "Rory. If he's in jail and the other guy is possibly dead, haven't you done as much as you can do? Don't you figure they're the ones who killed my husband?"

  "Currently there's no proof. There's a third guy, the one who lifted my wallet. He's likely the guy who killed Douglas. Unless Pickens and Blight are working with him, I'm thinking they're off the hook for that. Rory Pickens will likely be out this afternoon, if he isn't already. There's nothing at this point to tie him to Douglas' murder and it's his word against mine as to what happened on the boat. What witnesses there were didn't see all that much. The sheriff and Detective DuPont both believe me, and so does Special Agent Taffer, however, there's nothing on which to hold Pickens. I can file a complaint against him, but that probably wouldn't go too far."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "This thing is bigger than these two guys, bigger even than the one who killed Douglas. Someone had to have ordered the hit. That same person also put the order out on me. I don't take that kind of thing lightly."

  They were interrupted by another cell phone, this time a full ringtone. Rebecca reached into a side pocket of her purse. She looked at the readout, pressed the phone to her ear and said in a flat tone, "Hello."

  CJ turned his head and looked down the street, his way of demonstrating that he was not intentionally trying to listen in on her call.

  "Who's saying that?" she said.

  The sudden sharp uptake in her voice told CJ this wasn't a social call.

  "Onassis? What?"

  That brought CJ around to looking at her.

  "Gianna Onassis! Who the hell is that?"

  CJ raised his eyebrows.

  "Arizona?" With that Rebecca's eyes came up to meet CJ's.

  CJ pointed to her phone and said, "Who you talking to?"

  "Eveleen," she said. "An attorney is trying to take claim of Douglas' body when the police release him and have him transported to Indiana."

  He indicated to Rebecca to give him the phone. She handed it over. "Ms. Danohough. This is CJ Washburn. Gianna Onassis is not only a powerful attorney, she is also Douglas' sister-in-law. She is representing her sister in Indiana."

  "That marriage, Mister Washburn, was a sham," Eveleen said. "They have no right."

  "Actually, they may have every right."

  "She kicked him out!" Eveleen nearly screamed the words. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "Now that he's dead, she wants him back?"

  "The fact is, she didn't kick him out. He left on his own."

  "I don't..." Whatever she started to say, she changed her mind. "Whichever makes little difference. He left and changed his name. He was no longer a Rothbower."

  "You and I can argue it, Ms. Danohough, but in the end, if you pursue it, it will be the U.S. courts who'll decide and I'm fairly certain which way that decision would go."

  CJ would have sworn he could hear her teeth grinding.

  "She wants him cremated," she said. "We don't."

  "I'd be willing to bet that she's basing that on his wishes, likely a legal document filed with his will, which Gianna, I'm sure, has in her possession by now."

  "Any will he had would have been null and void when he changed his name. I don't see how the courts could ignore that."

  "What the courts are going to see is that Douglas' name change was necessary in order to infiltrate the UIRA organization as an informant. I'm sure the FBI will provide testimony to that affect. His marriage to Rebecca was part of his cover."

  "This was his life!" she screamed into the phone. "This was not some God damned cover!"

  CJ considered telling her again what Douglas had told him just before he was killed, that he'd intended on returning to Indiana, to his first and legal wife. He could already see, however, that Rebecca was turning white, her chin against her chest, her eyes closed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  "The thing is, Ms. Danohough, you may have bigger problems right now, you and Rebecca both."

  "Problems? What are you talking about?"

  "I have reason to believe that you may be on a to-be-killed list."

  "A what!"

  "I think Douglas was only the first and that you are possibly next, and maybe Rebecca as well."

  With that Rebecca's chin came up. She wiped at her face with her wadded up napkin and looked at CJ.

  "We need to meet someplace safe," he said into the phone, "where I can tell you what has happened since we last met and why I believe you're in danger."

  The silence that followed was so long that CJ thought he'd lost connection.

  "Ms. Danohough?" he said.

  "I'm still here. I'm thinking. How about Paddy McGee's Irish Pub? I can give you the address or Rebecca can guide you there."

  "No," CJ said. "That's not a good place."

  "You sure?"

  "Quite sure."

  "Where are you now?" she asked.

  CJ told her.

  "I'll come to you, then. Give me half an hour."

  While they waited, CJ got a second coffee, and a juice for Rebecca. She visited the ladies room. She then told him how she'd met Douglas. It was in her brother's pub when she was working. They'd flirted with each other, but kept it strictly as a patron to waitress relationship. Then one morning Paddy invited Douglas for breakfast at the house. They were married a few months later.

  "A bit quick, don't you think?" CJ said.

  "When you're in love," she said and then stopped. She looked down at her hands and then picked up her juice and took a sip. "I thought we were in love. I was. Now I'm not sure about him. Was he just acting?"

  CJ didn't know how to respond.

  They sat in silence for a bit, CJ sipping coffee, Rebecca sipping juice. Just when CJ considered getting a third coffee, Rebecca said, "There she is." She was indicating a southbound car.

  As it passed by, CJ stood and raised his arm. Eveleen glanced his way and then continued on to a parking place a quarter-block farther down the street. She pulled up to parallel park but seemed to be bothered by a red truck that had pulled up close behind her. When traffic allowed, the driver of the truck swung wide and turned into a drive a hundred feet or so beyond. Eveleen began maneuvering her car into the parking spot.

  Something about the truck bothered CJ. Although he often didn't pay close attention to what was going on aroun
d him, there always seemed to be a 6th sense at work with him. It was this sense that had him thinking about when he'd first noted the truck. He was fairly certain that it had arrived maybe ten minutes earlier, slipping into a street slot north of where Rebecca parked, facing south. No one had gotten out. CJ had then observed it pull out when Eveleen passed by, falling in behind her. From his angle he could see that the drive it pulled into was the far end of a parking lot, the near end having an exit back onto the same street, this side of where Eveleen was parking. The truck seemed to just drift through the lot, as though the driver was looking for something. There were plenty of parking spots open, but he wasn't parking. It was more like he was waiting... circling.

  Waiting for Eveleen to get out of her car? CJ stepped away from the table and out onto the street. "Stay here," he said to Rebecca and began a slow jog in Eveleen's direction.

  Eveleen's car door opened and the truck began moving faster. It turned toward the parking lot exit and CJ picked up his pace.

  When Eveleen stepped out of her car, CJ was directly across from the truck. "Eveleen!" he yelled. "Get back in your car!" He then dodged a northbound car and rushed directly at the truck. It's front wheels contacted the street, whereupon it turned and began accelerating. "Eveleen!" CJ yelled again and then flung himself at the driver's door, knowing there was nothing else he could do other than distract the driver. With a roar of the truck's engine and a screech of its tires, he bounced off the door, landing in a sprawl on the street. There came another screech of tires, a horn blast almost in CJ's ear and then a cacophony of metal against metal. Somewhere in it all, a woman screamed.

  Chapter 18

  CJ looked up to find a car bumper and a black wheel swimming just a few feet from his face. As the fuzz and the pain in his ribcage dissipated, the glare of the morning sun brought him to full alert. He turned his head expecting to see Eveleen in a bloody heap somewhere down the street. What he found was that her car door lay broken and mangled some fifty feet beyond her car, the truck gone. She was nowhere in sight. A man came running across the street to the gaping hole in Eveleen's car and looked in. A few seconds later Eveleen's head appeared and the man helped her out on wobbly legs.

  Suddenly Rebecca and another man were kneeling next to CJ. "Are you okay?" they said, almost in unison.

  CJ looked at Rebecca's frantic face and then let his head settle back onto the pavement, taking as deep a breath as he could. There were certainly going to be a few more bruises, but there didn't seem to be anything new broken.

  "Yes," he said. "I'm fine. Did you get the license plate number?"

  She shook her head. "No. It happened so fast."

  "Neither did I," said the man. He looked around. "I hope someone did."

  As he sat up, Eveleen arrived at his side.

  "Are you alright?" she said. "I don't think you should be moving around until the EMS gets here."

  "I'm fine."

  "But you got hit by that truck."

  "No. Actually, I hit the truck; bounced off. Are you okay?"

  "Yes! Yes! I'm just fine. My car though..." She looked over at it. "He was trying to kill me, wasn't he?"

  CJ nodded. "Yes."

  "How did you know?"

  Another individual joined the gathering and announced, "I called 911."

  CJ stood with the assistance of Rebecca and the man, gathered his balance and then led everyone to the side. "Rebecca," he said. "Use your phone to get a picture of Eveleen's car with the door in the background, as it lies now, and then go drag it off the street. We don't need any more instances."

  "You get the pictures," said the man who'd helped Eveleen out of her car. "I'll get the door for you."

  "Thanks," CJ said.

  CJ walked back to the table where he and Rebecca had been seated and sat down. He pulled out his phone, found a name and hit the call button. When the call was answered, he said, "Parker. CJ Washburn here. I hope you don't have plans for the day."

  EMS arrived less than a minute after two St. Petersburg cruisers. By the time Detective DuPont showed on the scene, the circus was in full swing; statements, names and pictures were being collected by the officers. Once the EMS techs determined that their services were not required, they departed, taking with them the bulk of annoying strobing lights. When the officers had done as much as they could, including issuing a BOLO on the truck, they left Eveleen Danohough and CJ in the good hands of the detective. The witnesses and the curious gradually dispersed.

  The four of them, Eveleen, Rebecca, CJ and Detective DuPont, sat around the table outside Banyan Coffee and Tea, fresh complimentary coffees from the management–tea in Eveleen's case–sitting before them. They sipped at their beverages while CJ spent some time outlining his theories.

  DuPont tapped his plastic spoon on the table top for a time after CJ was finished, then said, "So you're thinking that all three of you are on this hit list?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "That's the big money question, isn't it," CJ said, looking at Eveleen.

  "How would I know?" she blurted.

  "Something's been going on inside the United Irish Republican Army. You're a cofounder of the group."

  She held up her hand. "Sorry that I may have given you the wrong impression, but I haven't been active for quite some time. I've been busy with my shop."

  "The Coffee Bean Boutique?"

  "Yes. If UIRA is up to something, I don't know about it."

  "Coffee Bean Boutique?" DuPont said. "I've heard of your place. Don't you supply beans to shops up and down Florida's west coast?"

  Eveleen nodded. "Starting to pick up a few out toward Orlando, too, and a couple on the Atlantic coast.

  He pointed at her tea. "Didn't I hear you tell the manager at this place that you only drink tea?"

  She shrugged and smiled. "What can I say? I love the smell of coffee, prefer the taste of tea. Doesn't mean I can't sell coffee. You sell what the market demands. America is not a big tea market."

  DuPont saluted her with his paper cup of coffee and took a sip.

  "Back to UIRA," CJ said. "So what you're saying is that you're no longer actively involved with them, that you have no idea what they've been up to?"

  "That's what I'm saying. I was enjoying having my son back." She closed her eyes for a few seconds in an apparent attempt to squelch a building emotion. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "I know he had joined the group, but I'd lost interest in it a long time ago. The only reason I knew anything was going on was because of Douglas."

  "You no longer agree with their mission?"

  "To unite Ireland? Of course I agree. It's just that I'm getting too old for the politicking and such. It's been over sixty years, 1948 to be exact, the year I was born, since the country was split. I truly believe it will come back together, however, I doubt it will be in my lifetime. The fight will continue until I'm long gone."

  "Douglas didn't talk to you about what was going on?"

  "Not really. He'd meet with some people over in Apollo Beach occasionally. I didn't pay much attention, though."

  "Do you know the names, Rory Pickens or Samuel Blight?"

  Eveleen shook her head. "No. Who are they?"

  "They're the two who picked me up, maybe tried to kill me."

  "Did they kill Douglas?"

  "I doubt it. That may have just been one individual. Pickens is currently in the city jail, though I doubt he's going to be there very long. Blight's whereabouts is unknown."

  "Could he have been driving the truck?"

  "Maybe, but probably not. I'm thinking it was the same guy who killed Douglas. I couldn't get a good look at him through the smoked windows. How many people are involved in the UIRA here in Florida?"

  "I don't know?" Eveleen said.

  CJ had been sitting back in his chair, talking quietly. Now he leaned forward and got directly into Eveleen's face. "This is serious, Ms. Danohough. You need to stop playing the 'I don't know anything' card because it
's not going to keep you alive."

  "But I don't know anything."

  Her whine irritated CJ. "I'd be willing to put money down that you know more than you're letting on, or more than you think you do." He looked at Rebecca. "And you, too. You don't live with a man, sleep in his bed and call him your husband without noticing things about his routine or deviations from his routine. What do you know about this beach?"

  "Beach?" Rebecca said. "What beach?"

  CJ looked at Eveleen. "What was it you said? Pollo Beach?"

  "Apollo Beach. It's a community east of here, the other side of the bay."

  "How do you get there?"

  "You take I-275 north or south. It's just a loop in from I-75. Either way will take you out of St. Petersburg, over one of the bridges onto, what many locals call, the Florida mainland."

  CJ considered that for a few seconds, trying to match what she'd just said with the image of Tampa Bay he had in his head. "Can you get there by boat?"

  "Straight across the bay? Sure."

  "What are you thinking, CJ?" DuPont said.

  "What if the boat ride Pickens and Blight took me on wasn't to kill me and dump me at sea? What if they were in fact taking me to this meeting location in Apollo Beach for some other reason?"

  "What other reason?"

  "To question me as to what I knew. Pickens and Blight aren't the brains. They're likely just gophers. Someone else is calling the shots. That someone may be who Douglas was meeting with in Apollo Beach. It still may be that my ultimate destination was the deep sea, but they first had to find out what I knew and who I told."

  To Eveleen he said, "You either know something or they think you know something. Either way, you're on the hit list. For the same reason," he turned to Rebecca, "so are you."

  The two women looked up and down the street. "So what should we do?" Rebecca said.

  "I'll see if I can't put some officers with you for a time," DuPont said.

  "That may not be necessary," CJ said.

  They all just looked at him.

  "My guess is that they're running out of time and at some point they may conclude that anymore of this cloak and dagger hit squad crap is useless. They'll realize that it's too little too late and they'll either abandon whatever it is they're getting ready to do, or they'll accelerate their timeline. "