Bluewater Target_Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series

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Bluewater Target_Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series Page 13

by Charles Dougherty


  Connie answered after one ring. "Are we there yet?"

  "Almost," Liz said. "We're beginning to see a bit of detail on the Bay Bridge."

  "You've made good time since we spoke last," Paul said.

  "We thought we should call you before we got in and got distracted by all the activity ashore," Dani said.

  "You've been teasing me about always calling at lunchtime, so I decided to break with routine," Connie said.

  "Besides," Paul said, "we haven't heard from Leon yet, so we were waiting."

  "How about Luke Pantene?" Marie asked. "Have you spoken with him since we last talked?"

  "Yes. He called back yesterday."

  "Did he pick up anything new on Lucas?" Dani asked.

  "Well, yes, but nothing too surprising. One of Pantene's people has a snitch who knows Lucas. The word on the street is that somebody's shopping for a hit. There's no direct connection to Lucas, but the snitch moves in the same circles as some of Lucas's regular contacts."

  "Shopping for a hit?" Marie asked. "Who is the target?"

  "No word on that, but it's related to the Montalbas," Paul said, "and whoever the target is, it's somebody in the D.C. area with heavy security."

  "Delaney?" Marie asked.

  "That was Luke's immediate reaction, even though he doesn't know what you're up to," Paul said. "You have to admit, it fits."

  "Who is behind this hit?" Marie asked.

  "Nobody can say, but there's a rumor. It ties back to the hit on the Montalbas. The snitch says it's the same cartel that took them out. Also, the word is that the Montalba hit was carried out by a bunch of fighters who were part of FARC until peace put them out of work."

  Marie smiled at that. "They have the skills and maybe the weaponry, yes?"

  "Yes, and there's the Colombian connection, as well," Paul said. "That's hard to overlook, if you're focused on that part of the world. And a lot of the drug dealers are, obviously."

  "What is FARC?" Liz asked. "I remember hearing of it, but I can't say where."

  "It's an acronym for Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia — Ejército del Pueblo," Paul said. "The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia — People's Army.

  "They were a guerrilla movement that tried to overthrow the government of Colombia for 50 years, give or take. They signed a cease-fire agreement in 2017 and began disbanding and morphing into a political party."

  "Would it be possible for such people to carry out an action in the U.S.?" Marie asked, her brow furrowed.

  "What are you thinking, Marie?" Dani asked. "Looking for a subcontractor?"

  "No." Marie shook her head. "I am looking for the one called the scapegoat."

  "Why?" Dani asked. "How would that work?"

  "I am thinking that people like this, these ex-FARC guerrillas, they would conduct a military-style assault, perhaps. To attack Delaney's estate."

  "A military assault in the Washington suburbs?" Liz asked, her eyebrows raised.

  "It is only a thought," Marie said. "We have been trying to think of a way to draw Delaney out of his fortress to a place where he could be killed without attracting a lot of attention."

  "That's what we thought you were working on," Connie said.

  "Yes. This is so. But this is a different possibility, these FARC people. There is some evidence that maybe they are interested in this contract? The one your friend Luke is hearing about?"

  "Wait, Marie," Dani said. "We know the ex-FARC people had nothing to do with Montalba's death."

  "Yes, we know." Marie grinned. "But if everyone else thinks that they killed him, we should let them believe what they believe, yes?"

  "But there is no group of ex-FARC people to carry out an attack on Delaney," Paul said.

  "We cannot say that for sure, can we, Paul? Some criminals in Miami believe this now, yes? That this group killed the Montalbas, I mean."

  "That's the rumor, all right," Paul said.

  "So what is to say that such a group could not attack Delaney and breach his defenses?" Marie asked. "I am now just thinking out loud, as you say, yes?"

  "I guess it's conceivable," Paul said.

  "Yes," Dani said. "It's conceivable. But just barely. Things like that don't happen in the U.S., especially not in suburban Washington, D.C."

  "It is only an idea," Marie said. "Perhaps Luke will hear some more about this contract. He will let you know, Paul?"

  "Yes, he will."

  "We'll call later, when we hear from my cousin again," Connie said. "Probably this evening. Will you be around? Or are you going to paint the town?"

  "We'll be around," Dani said. "But we're going out for a soft-shell crab dinner, so call us around nine."

  "Barrera! That's the name I couldn't come up with," Delaney said, smacking his open palm down on his desk. "Did they remember anything else about her?"

  "She and her husband are friends of the Berger woman," Larry Thompson said, "but you remembered that. Also, their boats are virtually identical."

  "Berger's and Barrera's?"

  "Yeah. Both modern replicas of a classic yacht. Hard to tell 'em apart. They use the same charter broker in Fort Lauderdale, too, for what it's worth."

  "Not sure that does us much good," Delaney said. "Anything else on her?"

  "Yeah. I had an off-the-wall idea and asked Kilpatrick if he'd ever heard of her."

  "Kilpatrick? The lawyer we're using with O'Toole?"

  "Yeah, him. I figured he's gotta know a little about the drug world, practicing law in Miami. Turns out he recognized her name, all right. She had a hand in putting away a couple of heavy hitters in the drug smuggling business. She did it the same way both times, by pretending to be in the business herself. She hinted that she was running her own good-sized cartel, and the guys she took down believed her."

  Delaney laughed. "Until she turned them over to the cops, right?"

  "Well, that's where it gets interesting, Clayton. Kilpatrick had some involvement in the first case — guy named Sam Alfano. Alfano was smuggling drugs into Savannah on shrimp boats years ago. He was laundering money through a business that Barrera was involved in.

  "When she found out, she tried to blackmail him. Or at least that's what he thought at first. Then he decided she was part of what he thought was a West Coast mob that wanted in on his turf.

  "He went after her and her business partner. Killed her partner, but she got away and screwed him over big-time. That's another whole story, though. But thanks to her, he's doing life for having her partner killed.

  "Kilpatrick said it was a convoluted story, but nothing's ever straightforward with these people," Thompson said.

  "Montalba thought Barrera had her own organization," Delaney said. "He was pretty damn sure of it. Kilpatrick know anything about that?"

  "Yeah, he's heard the rumors about her running her own cartel, but he's dubious. He said Alfano was sure she was, though. And so was the other guy she put the screws to, but Kilpatrick couldn't recall who that was off the top of his head. Somebody that knew Alfano, though."

  "Why's he dubious?" Delaney asked. "Kilpatrick, I mean."

  Thompson nodded. "Her old man's retired from MPD. Used to run homicide."

  "I thought you said this Alfano guy killed him."

  "No. He killed her old business partner. She's married to this guy. Paul Russo's his name."

  "Was he a crooked cop?" Delaney asked.

  "Not that anybody ever suspected. Kilpatrick said he was a straight arrow. That's why he thinks it's unlikely that she's running a cartel. Or even involved in one."

  "Come on, Larry. She's had three strikes: this Alfano, the guy Kilpatrick can't remember, and Montalba. And those are just the ones we know about. If it happened one time, I could believe maybe she was caught up in something by accident. Three times, though? She's gotta be dirty."

  "I'm not arguing with you, Clayton. Just telling you what Kilpatrick said. He heard she had a hand in taking down Montalba, too. He knows one of the lawyers wh
o was working the Montalba case. Rumor is this is her normal M.O."

  "What do you mean, her normal M.O.?"

  "She sets her competition up for the cops instead of blowing them away. Kilpatrick thought it might have something to do with her husband."

  "Maybe she's an undercover cop," Delaney said.

  "I suggested that, but Kilpatrick said she's done stuff no undercover cop would ever do."

  "Like what?"

  "Like sometimes people who cross her just disappear. Usually down in the islands. And there was something about several million dollars' worth of diamonds that she spirited away from Alfano after he fled the country to escape the murder rap."

  "Somebody would know if she was having people killed."

  "Not if she did it herself, with no witnesses."

  "Then how would the rumors start?"

  "She's known to have killed in self-defense, Kilpatrick said. And she was pretty cool about it, even with blood on her hands, literally."

  "How does that square with her husband being a straight shooter?" Delaney asked.

  "You know what they say. The husband's always the last to know. Kilpatrick says some people think she's playing Russo — using him to feed information to the cops when she wants to set somebody up."

  "Interesting," Delaney said. "Must be a hell of a woman. You don't suppose she did Montalba, do you?"

  "Funny you should mention that. There's another rumor making the rounds down in Miami about that."

  "About her killing Montalba?" Delaney asked.

  "No, not that. A totally different one. The rumor is that he was hit by a team of former FARC guerrillas."

  "Now that is interesting. They would have the skills and the weapons to do that kind of job."

  "Yeah. That's the way I see it, too. That story about taking out his chopper with a SAM? Perfect fit."

  "You get that from Kilpatrick? The FARC thing?"

  "Kilpatrick, and our own people down there. Word is there's a group of them, ex-FARC people, looking for contract work."

  "In the Caribbean, though, right?" Delaney asked. "Not in Miami?"

  "Definitely in the Caribbean, if they did Montalba. But shit, Clayton, Miami's like the capital city of Latin America and the Caribbean. What's to stop them from operating in Miami?"

  "ICE?" Delaney asked.

  Thompson laughed. "ICE is busy picking up poor people with expired visas, families with kids. You watch the news. They're not looking for ex-guerrillas. ICE isn't equipped to deal with hardened combat vets, anyhow. They don't like people that shoot back."

  "Yeah," Delaney said. "You've got a point. Plus, if these FARC people are picking their targets carefully, the government we got now will probably just cheer them on."

  "Yep. Probably so. But that doesn't rule out your lady, either."

  "Barrera, you mean?"

  "Yeah," Thompson said. "If she's got some Colombian connections, this FARC business could be her doing."

  "Does she have Colombian connections?"

  "We're working on finding out. Speaking of which, I gotta get back to it. Got a call coming in soon."

  "Keep me posted," Delaney said, as Thompson left and pulled the office door closed behind him.

  17

  "Didn't you lock the companionway doors?" Dani asked, as she stepped into Vengeance's cockpit.

  Vengeance was in a marina in Spa Creek, tied side-to at a dock occupied by transient yachts.

  "Yes, sure I did," Liz said, joining her as Marie ambled down the dock looking at the neighboring boats.

  "Damn!" Dani said, her voice soft despite her angry tone. She was examining the port-side louvered door. "Somebody broke in; splintered the teak. Bastards."

  Liz was looking at the starboard door, the one in which the lockset was mounted. "Still locked," she said, "but you can see where they stuck a pry bar in. They splintered the molding."

  "Is something wrong?" Marie asked, joining them in the cockpit.

  "We've had a visitor," Liz said.

  Dani rummaged in a cockpit locker for a heavy, three-cell flashlight. Testing it, she nodded and took a winch handle out of the sleeve on the steering pedestal. "I'm going to check below," she said, handing Liz the winch handle. "If anybody but me comes up, try to knock their head off."

  "Don't you want a winch handle?" Liz took the one Dani handed her and stepped to the starboard side of the companionway doors, crouched and ready to swing her weapon.

  Dani shook her head and hefted the big flashlight as she mounted the first step.

  "Careful," Liz said.

  "I'll be right behind you," Marie said, "to watch your back."

  Thirty seconds later, Dani called, "It's clear, Liz," and turned on the lights in the saloon.

  Liz went below and joined the other two, who were already working their way through their scattered belongings. "The handheld VHF and GPS are missing from the nav station," she said.

  Lifting the top of the chart table, Liz picked up the loose charts they had used on their trip. Their laptop computer was in its usual place. "They didn't find the laptop, though."

  "Our stuff's been pawed through," Dani called, from the aft stateroom. "But the only thing missing so far is your camera bag."

  "Marie?" Liz called. "What's it like up there?"

  "Everything is strewn around the cabin," Marie answered, from the forward stateroom. "But I think the only thing missing is the satellite phone."

  "It was in the locker at the steering pedestal," Dani said.

  "Not yours," Marie said, coming aft to the main saloon. "The one I took from Montalba."

  "Oh," Dani said. "I'll go check ours."

  As Dani went up into the cockpit, Liz looked at Marie and frowned.

  "What is it?" Marie asked.

  "Didn't you say you had a smartphone of his, too?"

  "Yes," Marie said. "It is gone, too. They were both in a leather case."

  "They didn't find the stuff in the cockpit lockers," Dani said. "So much for using Montalba's phone to set up a meeting with Delaney."

  "Should I call the police?" Liz asked.

  "May as well," Dani said. "Not that it's likely to do any good. Maybe you should check with the marina office. They said they had a security guard on duty at night."

  "I'll go up there, then," Liz said.

  "Okay. Marie and I can clean up the mess, see if anything else is missing. Bastards. I'd like to break their fingers and make 'em swallow their pry bar. They wrecked our doors."

  "Well," Liz said, "at least we're in Annapolis. It won't be hard to find somebody who can fix them up as good as new. I'll be right back."

  Marie and Dani were sitting at the table in the saloon sipping tea when Liz returned. Liz joined them, sliding in next to Dani.

  "What did they say?" Dani asked, as she poured steaming tea from a thermal carafe into a third mug and handed it to Liz.

  "Four boats were broken into, all on this dock. The police were there in the office, taking a report from the security guard. She saw the thieves on their video surveillance system and called it in before she came down the dock. None of the other people are back, yet."

  "Only transient boats were hit, huh?" Dani asked.

  "Yes. It's happened before, they said. Petty theft. The police will send somebody around in the morning to get descriptions of what was taken. They'll fill out a report and give us a copy, in case we need it for insurance. Once they've got a list, they'll check the pawn shops, but they said not to count on getting any of it back."

  "Right," Dani said. "Waste of time. That stuff's probably already in the next state. Welcome to America, ladies."

  "Oh, come on, Dani," Liz said. "This kind of thing happens everywhere. Probably druggies, trying to score enough for their next fix, just like in the islands."

  "Yeah," Dani grumbled. "Maybe we should just put our valuables in the cockpit from now on. It'll cost more to repair the doors than to replace the things we lost."

  "Speaking of that, it's too
bad we can't call Delaney on Montalba's phone," Liz said.

  "Yes. I liked that idea," Dani said.

  "We will think of something," Marie said. "Let's get to sleep. The people will be here at eight o'clock in the morning with my car. I think it is best that I go alone to see Delaney's estate."

  "That's okay," Liz said. "I'll do a little provisioning and get Vengeance put back together from the trip."

  "And I'll get to work on the doors," Dani said. "I should be able to repair the damage tomorrow, at least. It'll take time to get the varnish back up to snuff, though."

  "Yeah, Larry?" Delaney asked, answering Larry Thompson's phone call.

  "Sorry to catch you so late; I hope you aren't in bed yet."

  "No problem. What's new since this afternoon?"

  "Kilpatrick went back to see O'Toole this morning."

  "I thought he was going to give it a little longer," Delaney said. "You okay with this?"

  "Yeah. I left it up to him. I have to let him read the situation; he's the one on the scene."

  "So why'd he go back so soon?"

  "He talked to Lucas, first. Said he ran into him at this joint near the courthouse where a lot of the lawyers hang out. He — "

  "Wait a second. He talked to Lucas? Without checking with you first?"

  "Clayton, they know one another. Kilpatrick didn't go looking for him; it was a chance encounter. It would have been odd for him not to speak to Lucas."

  "So what did he get from Lucas that made him want to go back to see O'Toole?"

  "Nothing, directly. Lucas was having a drink with a couple of lawyers who're known to represent a mobbed-up family."

  "What family?" Delaney asked.

  "The DiGenova brothers," Thompson said. "But — "

  "Never heard of them," Delaney said.

  "No, neither have I, Clayton. But the thing is, they've backed any politician who ever ran against O'Toole. Kilpatrick says this goes back to O'Toole's first run for the Senate."

  "Okay. So they're anti-O'Toole. What about it?"

 

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