Sailor's Delight - A Connie Barrera Thriller: The 2nd Novel of the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Connie Barrera Thrillers)

by Charles Dougherty

"Your best effort! Your judgment! I'm part of this, and so are they. I didn't hear us vote to put you in charge." Connie whirled and stalked to the foredeck, her fists clenched at her sides.

  Paul watched her walk away, feeling a pain that he could hardly bear at what was happening to them. Part of him wanted to prostrate himself at her feet and beg for her forgiveness. On a rational level, though, he knew his duty was to use his skills and experience to save Julia. Everything else was secondary, no matter how much it hurt him and Connie.

  "Coffee?" Phillip asked, offering Sharktooth a steaming cup that he had just poured from the thermos that Sharktooth's wife had filled for them.

  "Thanks." Sharktooth took a cautious swallow of the hot, bitter black brew. "Ah, tha's bettah, mon."

  "Lots of northbound sailboats," Phillip remarked.

  "Yeah. They mos'ly bareboats, thank you, Lord. Easy to see they not Sueño."

  "Nice of them to put the orange trim on the headsails," Phillip remarked.

  "Mm-hmm. My frien' works for the company. He say they do it so they can spot the boats quick when the people call for help."

  "They get a lot of calls?" Phillip asked.

  "Oh, yeah. Mos' of them, they nothing serious, you understan'. The people rent the boats, they call fo' help because they water tank empty, mebbe. Sometime they out of ice. Now, tha's an emergency, don' you t'ink?"

  "Could be, I guess."

  They rode along in silence, headed to the south, giving each northbound boat a cursory inspection. Every so often, they would spot a boat far out on the western horizon, and Sharktooth would alter course to take them closer. Sharktooth's 50-foot Cigarette ocean racer with its three big V8s was loafing along. It cut through the gentle swell at 45 knots, giving them a comfortable ride as the engines purred. Given the light winds for the last couple of days, they didn't expect that Sueño could have come this far north so soon, but they were taking no chances on missing their quarry.

  "Paul an' Connie decide when they gon' get married?" Sharktooth asked. "Maureen's after me to finish the paintin' of Diamantista. She wants to give it to them for their wedding gif'."

  "I don't know. Last time I heard anything, they were waiting until they got the new boat. That's likely to be a while, I guess. They're having a major refit done."

  "Mm. I don' blame them fo' buyin' that Herreshoff. Beautiful boat, jus' like Vengeance."

  "Yeah. A lot prettier than Diamantista," Phillip said.

  "I like that name, though," Sharktooth said. "Diamantista. I hope they keep it fo' the new boat."

  "Hey, take us out there," Phillip said, pointing to the southwest. "That one's farther out than he's got any reason to be."

  Sharktooth had swung in a big arc and was now approaching the sailboat from the rear. He slowed to a speed just a little faster than the sailboat, about a mile away. Phillip was braced against Lightning Bolt's windshield, binoculars held to his eyes.

  "That's Sueño," he said. He made a quick call to update Paul Russo, and then turned back to Sharktooth.

  Paul put the phone down on the seat beside him as Connie came into the cockpit. "Coffee?" he asked, reaching for the thermal carafe on the cockpit table.

  "Okay," Connie said. "Who called?"

  "Sandrine," he said filling both of their cups. "She found out that Sueño cleared out of St. Vincent at Chateaubelair at one o'clock yesterday afternoon, bound for Dominica."

  "So you were right; was Julia aboard?"

  "She wasn't listed on the documents, so we don't know."

  "Damn it, Paul," Connie said, "I hardly thought they'd be stupid enough to list her. Besides, we have her passport, so they couldn't have cleared if they'd listed her."

  Paul sipped his coffee, waiting until her anger subsided.

  "Did anyone see her?" she asked, in an exasperated tone.

  "Possibly, but we don't have any information except what Sandrine got from — "

  "Well, shouldn't we try to find out?"

  "I'm open for suggestions, Connie, but it doesn't change our next step."

  "I'll see if Mrs. Walker has any ideas, if you'll hand me the damned phone."

  "All right," Paul said, reaching for the phone. It rang as he picked it up.

  "Hey, Phillip," he answered. He listened for a few seconds. "Okay, good luck. Let us know."

  He disconnected and handed the phone to Connie. "They've spotted Sueño; they're about to board her. They'll call back in a few minutes."

  "Well, that's a relief. Guess I'll wait to call Mrs. Walker."

  Paul nodded, worried by the steely tone in her voice. Before he could think of anything to say, the dinghy bumped against Diamantista's side and Monica and Luke joined them in the cockpit.

  "Well, that didn't inspire confidence," Luke said, a tremor in his voice.

  "They didn't seem to take it very seriously," Monica added. "They — "

  "We have good news," Connie interrupted, ignoring Paul's glare and the slight negative shake of his head. "Sueño's been spotted and they're about to board her."

  "What?" Luke exploded. "Where? Is Julia all right?"

  "I'm not, um Paul?" Connie stammered.

  "We don't have any more information just yet, Luke. After we talked to our friend in Martinique, he decided that there wasn't much to lose by assuming they were headed north. He and another friend left from Portsmouth, Dominica, at daylight. They headed south, checking out all the northbound sailboats. They spotted Sueño a few minutes ago. They'll call as soon as they know more."

  "Wait. Did they call somebody? Like the Coast Guard, or — "

  "No. They're going to board Sueño themselves. They'll call us back once they're done."

  "But that's got to be dangerous. Who are these people, anyway?"

  "They're friends; the man from Martinique is named Phillip Davis. He's an American. He retired to Martinique after a 20-year career as some kind of undercover agent down here. Before I retired from the Miami PD, I worked drug interdiction with an interagency task force out of Miami. I never met Phillip until later, but I heard all about him. The guy was a legend, and he's got all kinds of connections down here. Most of them, it's better not to know about."

  "Jesus," Luke said. "And who's with him?"

  "A man from Dominica called Sharktooth. They've done a lot of work together."

  "Sharktooth? What the hell kind of — "

  "He runs a water taxi in Dominica, and he's got dried jaws from a big Mako mounted on the foredeck of his boat. It's like a trademark; that's what everybody calls him," Connie said. "He's a Rasta man, a gentle giant, almost seven feet tall. He must weigh 300 pounds. The two of them crewed for me when I brought Diamantista down from the States. Julia's in good hands, now. Don't worry." She ignored another of Paul's glaring looks as she mentioned Julia's name.

  "I'll stop worrying when she's back safe with us," Luke said.

  17

  "Take us in fast like you're going to pass them on their starboard side," Phillip said. "Whip in close and throttle back long enough to put us alongside so I can jump their lifelines. I'll handle them while you secure Lightning Bolt and get yourself aboard."

  Sharktooth grinned and nodded. "You ready, mon?"

  Phillip racked the slide on a .45 caliber semiautomatic pistol and nodded, returning Sharktooth's grin. "Just like old times."

  Two minutes later, Sueño was rolling violently in the wake from Lightning Bolt's approach. Phillip was crouched on Sueño's side-deck, his pistol out of sight of the two surprised men in the cockpit. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sharktooth clip a big carabiner to one of Sueño's lifeline stanchions and swing himself aboard, a tow line attached to Lightning Bolt's bow paying out behind Sueño.

  The older of the two men in the cockpit charged at Phillip, while the younger dove for the companionway. Phillip's pistol barked twice, and both men fell to the cockpit seats, screaming in shock. Phillip and Sharktooth stood and stepped into the cockpit.

  "Where's the girl?" Phillip asked. />
  "What're you talkin' about?" the older man asked. "You're fuckin' out of your — "

  His voice cut off abruptly as Sharktooth put one big hand around his neck and lifted him until his feet were clear of the deck. Phillip saw the blood spreading from the gunshot wound in his shoulder as Sharktooth said, "Mon ask you a question. I put you down, an' you answer." He dropped the man, watching the younger of the two, who sat clutching his bleeding shoulder.

  "There's no girl here; I'm bleedin' bad. I — "

  "That's the least of your problems," Phillip said, cutting off his protest. "Sharktooth?"

  The big man grinned and nodded. "Old one firs', or should I start with the young one?"

  "Suit yourself," Phillip said.

  Sharktooth studied the two men for a moment and then grasped the wrist of the older man's injured arm with his right hand. He yanked the arm out straight before the man could react, and drove the palm of his left hand hard into the older man's elbow. There was a loud snap as the man's arm bent the wrong way, and he screamed for a moment before he passed out.

  "So much for him," Phillip said. "How about it, Troy? Want to tell us where Julia is, or should my friend show you how well he can remove layers of skin with his filet knife?"

  "We were just picking her up for these people," Troy said, eyeing Sharktooth with alarm. Sharktooth was cutting away Linton's clothes with a gleaming 12-inch-long filet knife.

  "What people? Where?"

  "I don't know. Linton had a phone number from a guy he knew in the joint. He called and they told us where to take her — GPS location, off St. Vincent. We ... "

  Troy paused as Sharktooth finished cutting Linton's clothes away and turned his attention to cutting Troy's pants off.

  "I'd keep talking, Troy," Phillip said. "You don't want to make him angry."

  "We went there, and they met us — Aiyee! Shit!"

  "Sorry. You moved," Sharktooth said. "Jus' a little scratch, mon. But if you stop talkin',"

  "Who met you?" Phillip asked.

  "Three guys in a little fishing boat. Locals. They paid us the money, and we gave them the girl."

  "Then what?" Phillip asked.

  "They took off out to the west, out to sea. I guess they were takin' her to another boat."

  When he paused for breath, Sharktooth ran the tip of his knife lightly along the inside of Troy's thigh, watching as droplets of blood formed in its wake.

  "What time was that?" Phillip asked.

  "Midnight, last night."

  "We need more — everything you know, and fast. Sharktooth, go ahead and — "

  "No, wait! It's all in Linton's briefcase, below. Phone numbers, money, drugs, everything. Honest, go look. Under the chart table."

  "Sharktooth, you mind?"

  The big man went below.

  "What drugs?" Phillip asked.

  "They gave us some shit to keep her quiet. The others raised too much — "

  "Others?" Phillip said.

  "We did some others first. Older women. Then they told us about the deal for virgins. We got $5,000 for older women; $25,000 for virgins, with a $5,000 bonus for a blond virgin."

  "How many older women?"

  "Four. No, wait, I forgot the whores from Martinique. There were three of them, all at once, but that was just like a trial run, to prove we could do it. They didn't pay us much for — "

  "What kind of drugs?"

  "Some shit called 'attic fan.' Put her right out, but they said — "

  "Attic fan?" Phillip asked frowning.

  "Ativan," Sharktooth said, emerging from below with the briefcase and shaking his head. "He's right. Everyt'ing's all here. Dumbass got everyt'ing written in a little notebook. Even got three more syringes loaded up with Ativan. We don' need these scumbags now."

  "If you let us go, you can keep the money," Troy said.

  "How much?" Phillip asked.

  "Look like 'bout $50,000," Sharktooth said.

  "Right," Troy agreed. "$5,000 each for the four older women, $30,000 for Julia, less some expenses. That was the deal they gave us. It's all yours, if you just let us go. How about it?"

  "Sure. Why not?" Phillip asked. "You okay with that, Sharktooth?"

  Sharktooth grinned and nodded. "Yeah. Everyt'ing lookin' good below. They gonna have a fas' trip to they nex' stop."

  Troy looked puzzled at that, but Phillip asked, "You gonna do something to help 'em along?"

  "Yeah, mon. I Voodoo the wind for them," Sharktooth grinned. "Gonna blow up hard, soon come. We better go, befo' we get sucked in wit' them."

  "Let's do it," Philip said.

  Sharktooth unhooked the carabiner that held Lightning Bolt's towline and pulled it alongside Sueño. Phillip dropped down into the go-fast boat with the briefcase, and Sharktooth followed. He fired up the engines and roared away; they had covered almost half a mile when there was an ear-splitting explosion. Sharktooth glanced back over his shoulder at the debris raining from the sky where they had left Sueño.

  "C-4?" Phillip asked.

  "No. Some new stuff J.-P. wanted me to test. Or mebbe the cookin' gas — they had the tank right next to the stove." He grinned and shook his head.

  "I'd better call the others," Phillip said, reaching for the satellite phone.

  The time aboard Diamantista passed in tense silence as they all stared at the cell phone on the table in front of Paul. When it rang, he picked it up, pausing before he hit the connect button, and said, "Please give me a second with Phillip. If Julia's there, everything else can wait until you talk to her."

  Luke nodded. Paul looked at Connie. She returned his stare as they listened to the third ring, but made no comment. He looked away and pressed the connect button, raising the phone to his ear.

  "Russo," he said softly. He listened for a few seconds and said, "Wait one." Pressing the phone to his chest to mute it, he said, "She's not there. They have some information on her whereabouts, but I'll warn you, it's going to be disturbing. I know you want to know, and I'm not going to hold back anymore. I can either hear him out and then tell you what he's learned, or I can put him on the speakerphone. What's your preference?"

  "Speakerphone," Luke said.

  Paul nodded. "Just to avoid confusion, let me do the talking until Phillip's told us what they know. Then ask them anything you like."

  "Fair enough," Luke muttered.

  Paul put the phone on the table and pressed the hands-free button. "Go ahead, Phillip."

  "The short version is that Goff and Stevens had a standing order from a procurer for blond, teenaged virgins. They took your daughter and delivered her to his agent, who paid them $30,000. The delivery was made about 12 miles west of Chateaubelair, St. Vincent. We've got the name — an alias, no doubt — and the contact information for the agent. Julia was drugged, but okay otherwise when they saw her last. Next step's to work through the agent and up the organization until we find her. Questions?"

  "I'd like to get my hands on those two bastards, just for a few minutes," Luke said.

  "That won't get her back, Mr. Regan," Phillip said.

  "But they might know more than they've told you."

  "I can assure you that they told us everything they knew, sir."

  "How can you be so sure?" Luke asked.

  "I can explain in detail how we questioned them, but I'm pretty sure you'd rather not know," Phillip said.

  Luke swallowed hard but kept quiet.

  "Are you turning them over to the authorities?" Monica asked.

  "Is that Mrs. Regan?"

  "Yes."

  "That won't be possible. We disabled their boat when we stopped them. We left them aboard, planning to call the Coast Guard to pick them up, but their boat exploded before we could make the call. There's nothing left — not even any floating wreckage."

  "Exploded?" Monica said. "Why?"

  "Mos' likely some propane leak," a deep, rumbling voice answered. "Ver' dangerous, this cooking gas, an' I see their stove not in ver' good
shape when I make some coffee for them. Propane tank all rusty; it mebbe leaked."

  Luke and Monica traded looks.

  "Any idea what they gave her? The drugs?" Luke asked.

  "Ativan," Sharktooth said. "They had three more syringes ready to go, an' a bottle."

  "They had everything in a briefcase; we got it all. Drugs, money, contact information," Phillip added. "Julia's not their first victim. These two took seven other women that we know of, recently."

  "Okay, Sharktooth, Phillip," Paul said. "Unless somebody here has more questions, we'll wait for your email with the details. Once everybody's up to speed, we'll get back together on the phone and make some plans." After several seconds of silence, Paul disconnected the call.

  "I'm sorry I was so cross with you," Connie said, her voice soft as she sat close beside Paul in the cockpit.

  The Regans had gone below, Luke saying he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Monica had remained behind for a moment, looking as if she had something on her mind. After a few seconds, she had shaken her head and followed Luke below.

  Paul looked into those liquid, dark brown eyes, mesmerized. "I understand," he said. "It's not your fault. I know I'm hard to be around when I'm working a case; I just can't seem to rein in the obsessive side of my personality. I'll try to do better."

  She smiled sadly and wiped a tear from her cheek. "You were right. I apologize for my big mouth."

  Paul looked puzzled.

  "About the false hope," Connie said.

  He shrugged. "Small consolation. You're the most important person in the world, but if I don't do everything in my power to get her back, I don't think I can live with myself. I don't know why I'm — "

  Connie stifled a sob as she interrupted. "Can you put your arm around me?"

  He complied without saying anything, pulling her close, feeling her sobbing silently. "It'll be okay. Us, I mean." He patted her leg gently with his free hand.

  "You're a good man," she said, sniffing. "And you're the only man who's ever made me cry, damn you."

  He hugged her tightly until he felt her stop crying. "We need to figure out what to do now, Connie."

  "About Julia," she said. "We'll sort us out later. I love you, and I know you love me; that's all I need right now."