Sailing into Death (CJ Washburn, PI Book 2)

by James Paddock

  "Oh."

  "Could you follow us outside, please?"

  She looked over at Willis.

  "It's okay, Ruth," Willis said.

  She nodded to the agent. "Sure. I guess so."

  CJ held the door and they all filed outside, Stella last. She took CJ's hand and said, "How bad are your ribs?"

  "Still sore. Throwing myself at the truck and then almost getting blown up haven't helped much in the healing process."

  "How about your head?"

  "An ignorable low-grade headache." They walked along hand-in-hand, well behind the group until Josh looked over his shoulder at them. They dropped hands. "I have to say, though, it all feels much better now that you're here."

  "You're glad I came, then?"

  "Most definitely, yes."

  At the truck, Agent Coulter said, "Ms. Bebee, do you recall noticing this truck when you parked?"

  "Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I do. And I'm still a bit irritated about it now that I'm reminded of it."

  "Why's that? Tell us about it."

  She pointed east. "I was coming from that direction on Mirror Lake Drive when I saw Willis' car parked right here. There was another car, like a jeep or something, starting to back out of the spot next to his car and I thought, 'Well, that's nice. I can park right next to Willis' pretty little Prius.' I really like his Prius. It's so quiet and he keeps it really clean."

  "That's nice, Ms. Bebee."

  "I'm hoping he'll take me for a ride in it one day."

  "You do?" Willis said, appearing rather surprised.

  "Yes, I do."

  "I'm sure you and Mr. Horton can work that out," Coulter said. "We're just interested in the truck."

  "Yes. Of course. Anyway, just as I got to the turn into the parking lot, this truck came barreling around me like it was a race or something and then cut me off. By the time I got to here," she pointed down to the ground upon which she was standing, "the truck was in my spot. I was considering stopping and giving the driver a piece of my mind when two men flew out of the truck, ran across the parking lot to another car and then sped away."

  "Where, exactly, was that car parked?"

  She turned and pointed to the next row over. "That's my Taurus over there. The yellow car. That's where they were parked. I took their spot as they pulled out. They almost backed into me as I came around."

  "Can you remember anything about the men?" Josh said. "Description, what they were wearing?"

  She shook her head. "No. Not really. The driver was taller than the other guy. The other guy was wearing a black T-shirt I think, and blue jeans. The driver, I don't know. Black shirt also, khaki-like pants maybe, not shorts. They both had dark hair, medium length. The other guy drove the car. That's about all I remember. It all happened so fast."

  "How about the car? What do you recall about it?"

  "Blue. I know it was blue, like a sedan. Not blue like Willis' car. Much darker."

  "That's it? Anything else?"

  She shook her head. "Don't know much about cars. It was a dark blue sedan."

  "Any dents, scratches, license plate number? Was it licensed in Florida or another state?"

  "I think I'd have noticed if it wasn't Florida, but I can't say I even looked."

  "Okay. Thank you very much, Ms. Bebee." Agent Coulter presented her with a clipboard and pen. "Write down your contact information in case we have further questions." He added his card to the clipboard. "Please give me a call if you should think of anything else."

  CJ and Stella leaned against one of the patrol cars. "So. What next?" Stella said.

  "I don't know. I'd kind of like to get something to eat and then sit in a quiet place and think about it all for a bit."

  "You've got my vote. All I've had today is a breakfast muffin and a cup of coffee. Airplane snacks don't count for much."

  CJ had just straightened up to look up and down the street for a place to get some food when Ruth Bebee handed the clipboard back to Agent Coulter and said, "The driver of the car might be Irish."

  "Irish?" Coulter said.

  Everyone's attention was suddenly back on the woman

  "Why do you say that, Ms. Bebee?" CJ said.

  "Because of the flag decal."

  "Where?"

  "On the back window. It was green, white and orange; the national flag of the Republic of Ireland. Not to be confused with the Italian flag, green, white and red. It's the only European flag that has orange unless you consider the Royal Standard of the Netherlands, the official flag of the Dutch monarch, which really doesn't count as a flag of countries."

  "You're certain it was a Republic of Ireland flag?" Coulter said.

  "I know my flags, or at least a lot of them."

  "And I can vouch for the fact that she knows all the European flags for sure," piped up Willis Horton.

  Ruth Bebee nodded her head. "And I know what I saw."

  While they were talking with Willis Horton and Ruth Bebee, dark clouds had started rolling in from the west and a breeze began picking up. As they moved vehicles to allow Willis Horton to get his car out, the rain began.

  "I think we're done here," Agent Coulter said. "We'll let the locals do the forensics."

  With that they returned to the bombing crime scene where evidence gathering had halted while everyone stood or sat undercover from the pouring rain. CJ, Stella and Josh jumped from Coulter's car to dash into Josh's rental in which they headed off to fetch CJ's new rental. An hour later and after only a minor amount of hassle and additional paperwork, CJ and Stella had their own wheels, and they were ready to take a break from it all.

  "There's nothing more Stella and I can do at the crime scene," CJ said to Josh. "Why don't you head back over there. We're going to go find something to eat."

  "You sure?"

  CJ could tell that that was exactly what Josh wanted to do. He was an FBI agent and he wanted to be in on the middle of the investigation. "I'm sure. Go."

  As Josh drove away, Stella said, "Give me the key."

  "Why?"

  "You've a head injury and a cracked rib so I'm driving. You're also not hearing so well."

  "What?"

  "I said...." She saw the grin on his face and took the key he was presenting.

  "I've a chauffeur now," CJ said. "Nice."

  "Where to?"

  "The food is good at Paddy McGee's Irish Pub."

  Chapter 23

  Contrary to what CJ experienced the previous two days, Paddy McGee's appeared busy when they pulled the rental car into the parking lot. "It just occurred to me that it's Saturday night," CJ said. "Don't know if I want to fight a crowd."

  "Normally, I'm good for a crowd," Stella said, "especially after a stressful day. But considering what's going on, having dinner at an Irish pub, I'm not so sure."

  "You think the bombers are looking for us, and they're hanging out here hoping we'll show up? Maybe we should have kept Josh as a body guard."

  She looked at him for a few seconds and then said, "Seriously?"

  He made a face to indicate he wasn't serious.

  Stella pushed her head back against the headrest. "I don't know what I'm worried about. I do have to say, though, that this whole Irish army thing does have me a bit spooked. Throwing bombs isn't supposed to happen in this country. And if it does, it should be coming from Middle East terrorists, not from Irish Nationalists."

  "First of all," CJ said, "to put your mind at ease, the only reason they were doing this was to shut people up. By now they should be figuring out that it's too late, that whoever they're trying to silence is now talking to the FBI, that all their efforts have failed and that they'd be smart to cut their losses and run.

  "Second of all, if they are after anybody, they're after Eveleen Danohough and Rebecca, and the two of them are likely someplace together, safe."

  "Do you know where that is?"

  He shook his head. "No. To be truthful with you, I kind of lost track of them when I begged Agent Taffer to prov
ide someone to run me to the airport to meet you. Rebecca's car was across the street from the blast. The fact that her tires were flattened and the car was inside the cordoned off blast zone means she wasn't going anywhere with it. Ms Danohough's car was already out of commission and she was adamant about the fact that she wasn't going to drive around without a door. Being hit by the same truck from which the bomb was thrown makes it crime evidence anyway. If the two women went anywhere, they had to have been picked up."

  "Maybe they're under FBI protection somewhere."

  "Good point. I'll ask Josh next time I talk to him." He looked out through the steady drizzle, to the simple painted sign that read, Paddy McGee's Irish Pub. "In any case, maybe a happy-go-lucky crowd would be good for us right now."

  Stella hit the button on her seatbelt, pulled out the key and put her hand on the door handle. "Okay, then. Let's do it. I hope the food is as good as you say because I'm hungry."

  CJ opened the door to the pub for Stella and then followed her in. They stopped side-by-side, brushing water from their heads and shoulders and looking about. The crowd, though not as heavy as expected, was anything but happy-go-lucky. It was like any normal American restaurant, couples and groups sitting at tables, eating, drinking, conversing, music playing in be background, in this case, Irish folk music; a bit more subdued than they would have guessed. Two men sat at the bar watching a silent soccer game on one of three widescreen TVs in the room. Paddy's wife was behind the bar doing what bar-keeps do. The man CJ noted the day before was again on the grill and Hannah was picking up empty mugs from a table. As she crossed the room she glanced toward CJ and Stella and then stopped, her face lighting up in a smile. She shifted the mugs to one hand, held up a finger and then turned and ran past the bar, toward the back where CJ knew was Paddy's office. Seconds later she was back, Paddy right behind her. She stopped to get rid of the mugs as Paddy continued on, straight at CJ, a big grin on his face.

  "Céad Míle Fáilte Mister Washburn!" he declared in a baritone loud enough to be heard in the parking lot, and wrapped his arms around CJ. "How the hell are you my friend?"

  "I'm just fine, Paddy." CJ managed to break out of the hug and then noticed Rebecca O'Reilly had followed him out. He wondered if Ms. Danohough was here as well.

  "You saved me sister's life. For that you will forever be an honored guest in me pub." Paddy turned to Stella and took her hand in both of his. "I am Paddy McGee."

  "Stella Summers," Stella said, "CJ's partner."

  "Céad Míle Fáilte my friend! You, as well, are my honored guest." He touched her burgundy hair. "You are maybe Irish?"

  "No. Actually I'm half Scottish."

  "Scottish!" He laughed. "We'll try not to hold that against you." He threw an arm around her. "Come with me. I'll give you the best table in the house. Did you know that Scotland was built by the Irish?"

  "No, I didn't."

  "It is true. There is Irish in all Scots."

  "All Scots?"

  "Well... there are some who say Scotland was settled by the Germans or the Greeks or the Egyptians or the Australians. However, when you start mixing them all together with strong Irish blood and heritage, all the way back to the Dal Riata in the 6th century, guess who rises to the top."

  Stella grinned. "The Irish?"

  Paddy removed his arm and pulled out a chair. "CJ, you have an intelligent and beautiful woman here. If I weren't already married to an intelligent and beautiful woman, I'd be having to ask you to leave."

  "Fortunate for me then," CJ said.

  They sat and then Paddy sat with them, his face and his tone becoming serious. "I must apologize for my countrymen. They mean well but go about it in a bad way."

  "Bad isn't even the word for it, Paddy. They're trying to kill people to protect their mission which is to do what? Kill more people to make a point? And in the name of what? Your parents died because of this and if not for a little luck, and I do mean luck, so would have your sister. I wouldn't be calling them my countrymen if I were you."

  "You are right, CJ, and it is that that keeps me awake at night."

  Hannah dropped two menus on the table. "Céad Míle Fáilte. A couple of Guinness draughts, Mister Washburn?"

  "That would be perfect," CJ said. "Hannah, this is my partner, Stella. Stella, this is Paddy's daughter, Hannah."

  Hannah shook Stella's hand. "Fáilte. Nice to meet you."

  "You, too," Stella said.

  With that, Hannah departed and Paddy stood. "I'll check back after a time and see how you're doing. I'm truly glad you came."

  As he walked away, Rebecca took his place and turned her eyes on Stella. "I'm Rebecca O'Reilly. Mister Washburn said you were here to assist in the investigation."

  "That's right," Stella said.

  "This has all turned so crazy. I just want it all to go away so I can just bury my husband. And apparently I can't even do that because your attorney says he doesn't belong to me, that he never was my husband."

  Stella reached out and covered Rebecca's hand. "I'm so sorry."

  Rebecca didn't pull away. "Everything Doug told me was a lie. I gave my life to him and he lied to me and then left me alone. Not only did he leave me once when he got himself killed, but now he's leaving me again to be returned to his real wife." She'd extracted her hand to make quote marks in the air with the word, real. "Every time I turn around there are more lies. What am I supposed to do now?"

  "Your brother and his family," Stella said. "It looks like you have good people around you. All you can do right now is lean on them."

  "That's all I've done since our parents died... until Doug came along. Now I'm back and I have a baby growing inside of me. Douglas' baby. The baby he didn't want." Rebecca stared at her hands for a time, eyes closed, weeping. "My brother has his own family to take care of. He doesn't need the burden of a second."

  Hannah arrived with the two mugs of Guinness plus water for Rebecca as well as napkins and silverware.

  "Thank you, Awnya," Rebecca said.

  "Will be right back for your orders," Hannah said, putting her hand on her aunt's shoulder and then rushing away.

  Stella pulled out one of the napkins and handed it to Rebecca. Rebecca stared at the napkin as though not knowing what to do with it and then dabbed at her eyes. She sniffled.

  "What did you call her?" CJ asked of Rebecca.

  "Awnya." She sniffled again and smiled. "It's pronounced like on and ya. On-ya, spelled A-W-N-Y-A. That's the Irish pronunciation for her name, H-A-N-N-A-H of which Americans say, Han-a. My brother has shifted to what her American friends call her, maybe his way of trying to maintain a father-daughter relationship with her. My sister-in-law, Maire, and I prefer the Irish form."

  "Awnya," CJ said. "I like it."

  The mood of the pub seemed livelier, people talking with more animation, often throwing glances toward CJ and Stella, ordering more drinks. The silence at the table, however, hung on for a time before CJ thought to ask about Ms. Danohough. "Where is Eveleen?"

  Rebecca shrugged her shoulders. "Home, I guess. She was here for a while and then Eddie picked her up."

  "Eddie?"

  "Ed Hall. Her friend."

  CJ recalled talking on the phone with Sandra at the Coffee Bean Boutique. "Her business partner?"

  "Yes. I think he's her boyfriend, too, though I don't really know that for sure. I'm not really into my mother-in-law."

  CJ glanced up at a nearby TV monitor and noticed it playing a news report about the bombing. There was no sound, but the dialogue between a pair of talking heads was being displayed across the bottom in rolling text. Stella followed his gaze.

  "It was discovered earlier this afternoon that one of the individuals who may have been targeted by this bomber was Clinton Washburn, a private investigator from Arizona, the same Clinton Washburn who shot and killed serial killer Tommy Clark just one month ago, almost to the day."

  The video had changed from a wide angle of the street in front of the coffe
e shop to a close-up of CJ talking with a uniformed police officer. The narration continued.

  "Is there a connection between the two, that is the killing rampage in Arizona and the bombing here in Florida?"

  "That's highly unlikely, though I don't think it's being overruled that this could be some kind of retaliation against him for killing Tommy Clark. The FBI is not being forthcoming in the motive behind the bombing, or who or what was the actual target. Was it Clinton Washburn or one of the people he was having coffee with, one of which, by-the-way, was St. Petersburg police detective, Parker DuPont. He was the only person seriously injured in the blast."

  "There was something about a murder yesterday morning in which Mr. Washburn was a suspect. Tell us about that."

  "That has turned out to be interesting. The body of one Douglas O'Reilly was discovered floating in the bay by passersby Friday morning. Within an hour Clinton Washburn was taken into custody by, believe-it-or-not, Detective DuPont."

  "The same person who was injured in the blast this morning?"

  "That's correct. But that's not all. Washburn was released only a few hours later. Then later yesterday, in the evening, it was reported that the Hillsborough County Sheriff had to chase down and disable a run-a-way boat on Tampa Bay with Clinton Washburn on board. Details there are a bit sketchy, but that case was turned over to Detective DuPont after it was discovered that it was related to the morning murder.

  "And here is another twist. Sitting at that table this morning with Mr. Washburn and Detective DuPont, when the bomb exploded, was the wife of the murdered man from yesterday morning, Rebecca O'Reilly, and his mother, Eveleen Danohough."

  "I'd say coincidences are out the window here."

  "We have now learned that the FBI agent who was called in to assist in the serial killing in Arizona a month ago has also been called in again to assist in this horrific event in Florida. He is Clinton Washburn's son, Special Agent Joshua Washburn."

  The video changed once again to CJ, Josh and Stella getting out of Josh's rental, Agent Taffer walking toward them.

  "The woman with them is Clinton's assistant, Stella Summers. It seems that she and Special Agent Washburn arrived in St. Petersburg this afternoon, together."