Sailing into Death (CJ Washburn, PI Book 2)

by James Paddock

  The Pier was not nearly as quiet as they expected it would be on a Tuesday night. He pulled the car into the last parking lot, choosing a spot near the ticket kiosk. While Stella waited, he ran his credit card to obtain a ticket, which he then placed on the dash. Then, hand-in-hand, they climbed the steps and headed out for the quarter of a mile walk along The Pier, on the end of which stood the structure that looked like an inverted pyramid.

  Briefly, CJ thought about the two cars that had pulled into the parking lot after him, one light colored, one dark. He wondered if he should have paid more attention to them, at least the dark one. He glanced back. Several people where at the kiosk, but from the distance and the low light he wouldn't have even known his own mother. Would someone who was intent on doing them harm take the time to purchase a parking ticket? You're being paranoid again, he told himself.

  "They're going to tear it down," Stella said.

  CJ turned to see what she was talking about. They'd stopped at a sign that said that The Pier would close May 31st of 2013 in preparation for demolition so that the new "Lens" design pier could be built in its place.

  "Wonder what a Lens design is?" Stella said.

  "No idea."

  They walked on a few paces until suddenly a pelican flew up and landed on a piling post less than ten feet in front of them.

  "Ah... Clint. What does he want?"

  "How should I know. Maybe he thinks we'll give him dinner." CJ held out his hands to the bird, demonstrating that they were empty. "I don't have any fish."

  "He is huge!" Stella stepped a bit closer.

  "Be careful," CJ said. "He might..."

  "Might what? He's obviously used to people."

  Suddenly the bird spread its wings and flapped himself a few feet into the air.

  "Eek!" Stella jumped back. "What's he doing?"

  "Showing off."

  With that the pelican turned away to soar some fifty yards before landing on another piling post farther down The Pier.

  "Wow. That was neat." Stella pointed past the bird to the odd-shaped structure on the end of The Pier. "Gracie said that there's an aquarium in there. Let's check it out."

  "Probably closed at this hour, but you never know?"

  CJ noted several other strolling couples farther on. "This must be the place to go for an evening stroll." Still hand-in-hand he pulled Stella to a stop to look out into the darkness of the bay and the lights reflecting across the water.

  "I like this," Stella said, leaning on the railing.

  "Me too."

  "It's romantic."

  "My thoughts exactly." CJ started to put his arm around her shoulders, remembered her gunshot wound and slipped his arm around her waist instead. "Wish we had something like this around Tucson."

  "It is very pleasant, isn't it Mister Washburn?"

  Stella stiffened against CJ's arm.

  The unmistakable Irish brogue came from a man behind them. CJ turned his head to look into the face, surprised at who he found. "Eddie Hall, or should I say, Michael Edmond O'Raghallaigh."

  Chapter 48

  Next to Eddie stood the woman who CJ referred to as "The Boss" when he and Stella were shackled in the house only twenty-four hours before. CJ looked beyond them but saw only a family walking off The Pier, a mother and father, a middle school-aged girl holding her mother's hand. It appeared that Eddie and The Boss were alone, nonthreatening.

  "It's good to see you out and about," Eddie said, "no worse for wear." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, looking past CJ, out toward the dark water. "It surprises me though, and saddens me, that you know my real name."

  "It wasn't hard." CJ looked from Eddie to the woman. "You two, together, were in charge of this entire thing? The fake vests and paintball guns?"

  Eddie brightened up. "Quite an undertaking, wasn't it. In charge of it all? Well, I am not so sure. It was a well executed cooperation among many. I really tried to keep my distance, though I was somewhat involved in some of the ideas, especially the writing of the statement. The execution part under Isabel's guidance," he put his hand on the woman's hand where she rested it on his arm, "of Rory and his team was flawless, wouldn't you say?"

  "It was quite convincing," CJ said, "and their exit very smooth. What's your endgame?"

  "There is no endgame, Mister Washburn. That was it. We fulfilled our mission and are now disappearing, almost before your very eyes."

  "Almost but not quite. Aren't you taking a risk by hanging around? Not only do I know who you really are, but now, so does the FBI."

  Another deep breath. "Loose ends, Mister Washburn. Loose ends."

  CJ thought about the Eddie he interviewed in Clearwater. This didn't seem like the same guy. That Eddie was distraught over Danohough's death, seemingly confused by it all. Was that a topnotch acting job? This Eddie was cool and in charge, confident. Did he bamboozle everyone, including the FBI?

  CJ had been watching the man's eyes when he talked. Even in the low illumination of the pier lighting he could see that they were alert, clear when he spoke of the successful mission, clouded over when he spoke of loose ends. The man's confidence was weak. His thirty-year-old secret was out and he was again on the run for murder, but there was something else.

  "What about Eveleen and Douglas?" CJ said. "Were they part of your plan that went smoothly?"

  The woman started to roll her eyes and then checked it. The look on her face was unmistakable, though. There was no love lost over the two deaths.

  Eddie, however, presented a very different look. Maybe regret; maybe a deeper sorrow. "Eveleen's death was..." He shook his head. "Sad." There came a long silence before he continued. "Douglas however.... Despite everything, the FBI was getting too close."

  "Despite everything? You mean despite all the false information you fed Douglas to pass to the FBI."

  Eddie looked a bit surprised. "Yes."

  "Why are you here right now? Why aren't you hunkered down somewhere, in deep hiding or in route to some distant destination?"

  "I have unfinished business."

  "With us?" CJ said, indicating himself and Stella. "What business? And how did you find us? Are we carrying a tracking bug?"

  Eddie held up his hand. "Not to worry, Mister Washburn. I was not tracking you by some electronic means, nor did I have someone following you and reporting to me. All those involved are gone, except for the two of us."

  "Are you saying that you just happened to run into us by accident, that on your way out of town you decided to have a romantic walk on The Pier?"

  "We are, as a matter-of-fact, on our way out of town. I'd considered stopping for dinner at McGee's pub, but found the parking lot full. We were parked on the street talking about the fact that it probably wouldn't be a good idea anyway. Isabel's face is not known, but mine certainly is and by now they, meaning the McGee's, may have me connected with what went on with the summit."

  "And then we walked out."

  "You could have knocked me over with a feather, as they say."

  "And so you followed us. Why?"

  "I want to know who killed Eveleen. You're the only one who seems to be coming up with answers."

  With those words came a look of surprise on Isabel's face, and she didn't even try to hide it from CJ. She just glared at him as though daring him to say anything.

  "You truly loved Eveleen."

  Eddie didn't respond, thus did not deny it. The woman shifted her glare onto the back of his head.

  "But even though you loved her you were using her," CJ continued. "Six years since you became business partners. This couldn't have been in the planning for six years. This mini-summit was scheduled no more than a few months ago. Did you use her in some other way for all that time, and for what purpose?"

  "In a sense, yes, it has been in the planning. Just as one plans for the future by building a nest egg, we have been planning by building associations, real-estate and contacts. In the end, credibility. We had no idea in what ways it woul
d develop."

  "So by becoming a partner in an American business you gained credibility. It wasn't hard, seeing as you and Eveleen were lovers forty-three years ago, made a child together who you later had killed?"

  Even in the low light CJ could swear he saw Eddie's face and neck turn red. Too much being revealed in Isabel's presence? he wondered. Who was Eddie's real lover right now?

  Eddie stepped up close to the rail, looked out into darkness. "Evie lied to me those many years ago."

  "Evie?"

  "Róis, or... ah Eveleen. I call her Evie now... or did." He closed his eyes, breathed in and out a few times and then continued. "She told me that the baby was still-born. And then I come to find out that he indeed survived his birth and then she dumped him on a doorstep like a bag of trash."

  "You're still angry," CJ said. "I get that. Then why kill him?"

  "Obviously, you haven't figured it all out yet."

  "Figured what out?"

  "Douglas, the Douglas who was an FBI informant, Douglas Rothbower, was not my son. Nor was he Evie's son though he certainly led her to believe such. Initially he came to St. Petersburg searching for his biological mother, but he quickly understood that he was on the wrong track despite the fact that a lot of the clues fit. It was because so many clues fit that the FBI stepped in and recruited him, asked him to play the part."

  "Why?"

  "Because they were after me."

  "They were after you for the killing of five British soldiers in 1981, a roadside bomb."

  Eddie turned his head to CJ, surprise on his face. "You're as good as they say." He returned his gaze to the night. "Yes. I will confess it here in the dark. That was certainly me. I was young and stupid."

  "You had to have been in your thirties. You should have grown out of your stupid phase by then."

  "Thirty-three. Some days I think I'm still in that stupid phase. That bomb wasn't supposed to kill anyone. It was meant to scare and make a point. I got a little too carried away with the charge. A heavy burden of regret that I've had to carry."

  "So you jumped ship, so-to-say, ran away from your country, changed your name and became an American citizen."

  "It wasn't quite that simple. I passed through a number of countries, gained a number of false identification documents, one of them being a British birth certificate giving me British citizenship. I then migrated to the United States, eventually obtaining a dual citizenship."

  "So, you're one hundred percent certain Douglas was not your son."

  "Yes."

  "How can you be so sure? Did you talk to him about it?"

  "No. I didn't even know that that was a possibility until last week. She introduced him as her son a few months back, but seeing as I was told forty-three years ago that my son had died, I didn't even consider that he might be mine, didn't make any kind of connection. Douglas could have easily been in his mid thirties."

  "But you maintained communications with Evie for twelve years after the Battle of the Bogside. You had romantic reunions several times a year. If she had any other children or other relationships, you'd have known."

  "We didn't get back together in that way for a number of years. And how do you know all of that?"

  "Five years. I'm an investigator. It's what I do."

  Eddie continue to stare out into Tampa Bay while Isabel continued to stare at the back of his head.

  "You never thought about how old Douglas was because you didn't want to know, or you were too naive or stupid to not do the math. You assumed and then concluded, becoming convinced. You were never willing to put all the pieces together for fear, whether conscious or not, that you wouldn't like the result. It was also easier to believe that he was just an FBI plant who pretended to be her son.

  "Here's the thing, Eddie," CJ added. "Douglas had a birth certificate." CJ had not seen it but his hunch was that it still existed and was in Douglas' personal effects somewhere. Or he had a copy and his adoptive parents had the original. Even if it no longer existed, with the surprised look on Eddie's face, CJ knew that his comment had hit the mark.

  "It's not a hospital issued birth certificate," CJ continued, "because, as you know, Douglas was not born in a hospital. Evie drew up a birth certificate by hand which she left with Douglas when she dropped him off on the doorstep. That handmade certificate stayed with him all these years. Evie described it in her diary, even drew a miniature replica of it as one of her entries."

  Eddie's mouth was hanging open. "She had a diary?" he managed to say.

  "Yes she did and for many years, up until the day she gave Douglas up, she was very faithful with her entries. On that certificate, young, scared Evie tried to create all the information she thought a real birth certificate should contain, including the father's full name. Convenient for you and in some twisted logic in which she thought she was protecting you, I'd guess, she left that line blank on the one she left with the baby. She even gave a false name for the mother; Éibhleann Ó Caiside. However, in her diary she recorded the full, correct names of the mother and father. Her diary didn't lie."

  Eddie's chin dropped to his chest.

  "Éibhleann Róis O'Donoghue and Michael Edmond O'Raghallaigh." CJ spelled out the father's last name for him. "Aka Eveleen Danohough and Eddie Hall. For whatever reason Evie entered Douglas Edmond O'Reilly for the baby's name, the shortened version of the last name, on both birth certificates. When the Rothbower's brought Douglas across the big pond to Chicago, he became Douglas Edmond Rothbower. Yes, Eddie, Douglas was in fact your son. You had your son murdered."

  With slow, almost painful effort, Eddie turned to CJ. "No," he said, his voice cracking. "I did not have him killed." He continued turning until he was facing his companion. "You killed him, Isabel. We talked about it and agreed that we'd just kidnap him and store him away until it was all over. We weren't going to kill anyone. That's what this was all about. We wanted to make our point peacefully, non-lethal. And then he turned up dead, so what did I do? I turned a blind eye.

  "Shame on you, Isabel. And shame on me for letting you get away with it."

  "I didn't kill him, Eddie."

  "Of course you didn't. You hired someone else to do the dirty work. Who was it?"

  "No Eddie!"

  "Don't even bother denying it. You wanted him dead and then it happened. Who did you hire to kill Douglas?" He took a quick step toward her; she countered with a back step.

  "Who!?"

  "Alan!" As soon as she said it, Isabel seemed to regret the admission. She gave CJ a look that appeared to say, 'Keep your mouth shut.'

  "I don't know who killed Eveleen," she added quickly. "That was probably a robbery or something. The police may even know by now."

  Eddie seemed to be confused by it all, maybe wanting to believe her because it was just easier that way. The thing was, CJ wasn't the type to keep his mouth shut, especially when all the pieces were flying together, when the full truth was staring him in the face.

  "Let me tell you what I know, Eddie," CJ said. "The morning that Douglas was killed, knifed and dumped into the bay, the killer bumped into me and lifted my wallet, which he then threw into the bay with Douglas. I got just enough of a look at the man to suspect that it was the same man who kidnapped me in the elevator yesterday afternoon, and I know for a fact that that was Alan. Same shoes. Same Khaki pants. The individual who tried to pass himself off as Eddie Hall when Stella and I discovered Eveleen murdered, was Alan. Do I need to put the pieces together for you Eddie?"

  Eddie took a step toward Isabel. "You murdered both of them!"

  Isabel shook her head at him. "I had to do what had to be done, Eddie."

  "You had no right," he said softly. "I may have been angry with her, but I still loved her. And my son... my son." And then he yelled, "No right!"

  "Don't even look at me like that, Eddie, or talk to me like that. He was a threat. He had to be eliminated. Both he and your precious Evie. Of course I knew you loved her, your partner." She said partne
r like it was a bitter poison on her tongue. "And how was I to know Douglas was your son?"

  "You're done! I've had it! You've been like an anchor around my neck for this entire thing and now I find you've been doing things behind my back. What else have you done?"

  "No, Eddie."

  "Whatever it is it can't be worse than killing off my family, you... bitch!"

  Isabel took a step back and then suddenly had a gun in her hand. "Fine! I'm a bitch."

  With barely a pause, Eddie rushed at her and grabbed the gun. They struggled, she grunting, he yelling. "Stop it, Isabel! Don't be stupid!"

  She kneed him in the groin and he nearly dropped to one knee, his hold on her hands and the gun the only thing keeping him upright. Suddenly, with one last effort, he surged to his feet and smashed her in the face with his forehead. She fell back, his grip on her hands taking him with her. She hit the ground with a head-splitting crack, Eddie on top of her, and then the gun exploded.

  It all happened so fast that at first CJ didn't have time to react. Now as he ran at them, Eddie rolled off of Isabel, blood bubbling from his chest. CJ skidded to a stop when he saw Isabel pointing the gun at him. She shook her head, her aim unsteady.

  "Stop right there," Isabel growled, her words slow, barely audible. Her head dropped back to the pavement, tried to rise and then dropped again. She shook it. "Stop right there." Then she lifted her head, held it and started screaming, "Stop! Stop!" all the while appearing to try to get an aim on him. CJ wasn't moving but she was shifting the gun back and forth as if he was.

  Suddenly, from the side, came Stella, so fast that CJ didn't know what was happening until she hit him, sending him stumbling one way while she bounced the other. It was in that split second that the gun went off again. In the next second Stella kicked Isabel's hand so hard that the gun went flying. Then she dropped on top of the woman, the pink SIG Sauer pressed to her head.

  "Don't even move, Bitch!"

  Chapter 49

  When the first responder arrived, a St. Petersburg police cruiser, CJ was holding pressure on Eddie's wound, not able to tell whether it was life threatening or not. Eddie was breathing but otherwise motionless. Stella was sitting on Isabel's back, having nothing to secure her with. Once she had Isabel on her stomach, she'd slid the SIG Sauer back into the hidden compartment in her purse. She and CJ had exchanged a look.