****
Connie was lounging in the cockpit, watching all the activity as small dinghies buzzed around the calm, protected lagoon. Vengeance was anchored just over the invisible border on the French side of the lagoon, in a prime spot to watch the parade of small-boat traffic. Various excursion boats ranging from flotillas of jet skis and two-person kayaks to a double-decker sightseeing boat that must have carried 200 passengers provided continuous distraction as they bustled about the large, completely enclosed body of water.
Dani had gone ashore a few minutes ago to handle the clearance paperwork, and Liz was gathering up dirty linens and clothing to take to the laundry once Dani returned. Connie had bundled her dirty clothes and dropped them in Liz's laundry bag, deciding that she would spend the morning, at least, relaxing aboard. She was pleasantly tired from the several days at sea, and felt the need to collect her thoughts.
When Dani had collected the paperwork before going ashore, Connie realized that there would be a formal record of their entry into St. Martin. She had little experience with crossing international boundaries; she supposed that her entry into the Bahamas a few years ago was recorded somewhere. She recalled that Dani had told her that the Bahamas didn't require departure clearance for private yachts. She wondered if the people looking for the diamonds could somehow get access to customs and immigration records, perhaps by bribing officials. They had to check in here; she wondered if they would have to check out when they left. She would ask Liz about that; it could be a problem for her.
She had heard nothing related to the diamonds, having been incommunicado while at sea, although she had hardly expected to hear anything. Unless something was wrong, the next move was hers. The small plane that had buzzed them far out at sea troubled her. Dani had readily dismissed it as some sort of routine patrol, but Dani wasn't aware that they were carrying $10 million in stolen diamonds. Connie had no doubt that someone was looking for them by now, but she hadn't expected that they would know about Vengeance.
She wished once again that she had remembered to get rid of that briefcase. She knew the false identity would slow down her pursuers, but she also knew that with so much money at stake, the pursuit would be diligent. She worked through all her movements since she had received the diamonds, trying to remember if anyone might have seen anything to connect her to the theft. The false identity was a dead end, but if someone had seen her and could recognize her as Maria Velasquez, she might still be in danger.
It was possible that the hotel staff could provide her description to someone trying to track down Maria Velasquez. Unless they were able to connect her with Vengeance, though, she should be safe. It occurred to her that perhaps she should change her appearance. Early in her life she had been a beautician, so she knew the tricks of the trade. It would be simple enough, and it would provide another layer of insulation between her and anyone looking for Maria Velasquez.
She mulled over the options. She could go blonde, but her complexion wouldn't let her pass for a natural blonde. Although dyed-blond Latinas weren't unusual in this part of the world, it would draw attention. She was already an attractive woman; she didn't need anything that would make her more memorable-looking.
Maybe a short, low maintenance cut, like Dani and Liz wore, dyed a dark, auburn color – she could pull that off. The color would look natural with her tawny complexion, and as her coal black hair grew out, it wouldn't be a big contrast. Once Dani and Liz were done with their chores, she would ask if they knew of any high-end spas where she could get a makeover; surely, St. Martin would have a number of such places.
She had been dazzled by the megayachts that lined the docks to the south as they came through the drawbridge this morning. She had never seen such vessels before except on television. There should be plenty of hairdressers, personal trainers, and probably even cosmetic surgeons and dentists catering to the whims of people with the kind of wealth represented by those yachts. She smiled at the thought that her newfound wealth would be pocket change to someone who could afford toys like those. Feeling better for having come up with the idea of disguise, she dropped off to sleep, lulled by the gentle breeze and the barely noticeable motion of Vengeance.
Chapter 14
Toby watched Willie stuffing himself; he wondered if the man ever got enough to eat. They were in a restaurant at the Puerto del Rey Marina. Toby had realized earlier this morning that this was the most likely landfall for Vengeance in Puerto Rico, so he had decided to take a look at the place and check with the marina office to see if Vengeance was expected. It took him a while to get Willie moving, and the marina office had been closed for lunch by the time that they arrived. The 'Out to Lunch' sign hanging on the office door had given Willie an appetite.
Toby had finished a light lunch and was savoring a cup of strong, freshly ground black coffee while Willie polished off the last of his French fries, drenched in thick catsup. His clean-shaven, mahogany-colored chin glistened with the grease from a half-pound bacon cheeseburger, and his bright red, flowered shirt was splotched with drippings from the burger and smears of catsup and mayonnaise, lending a three-dimensional, impasto quality to the printed fabric that in no way made it more appealing. The traces of egg yolk from Willie's breakfast had dried to an orange color that clashed with the catsup.
Toby had been tempted to undertake the day's tasks by himself but Sam had cautioned him that Wallace Rolle was fond of Willie. There was some family tie that apparently bred tolerance; Toby understood that from his own heritage. Willie, however, was not just stupid, but repulsive in his personal habits as well.
At least he had a happy way about him, Toby thought, consoling himself as Willie ordered a banana split for dessert. Toby sipped his recently refilled coffee and tried to avoid seeing what happened to the whipped cream as Willie tore into the disgusting concoction. Finally, Willie pushed himself back from the table and belched loudly enough to bring a moment of silence to the noisy restaurant.
"Finished?" Toby asked in a hopeful tone of voice.
Willie nodded contentedly and yawned, mouth agape, stretching luxuriously and groaning as Toby signaled for the check.
Toby glanced at the amount and took several bills from his wallet, slipping them into the plastic folder that held the check. The change would make an overly generous tip, but Toby thought it was worth it to minimize further delays. He had intended for them to have a quick lunch since the marina office had been closed from noon until one o'clock, but he hadn't reckoned on Willie's bottomless appetite. It was nearly two o'clock by the time they walked into the pleasantly appointed reception area.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. How may I help you?" the attractive young woman behind the counter asked.
"We're expecting to meet some friends of mine here on a yacht named Vengeance," Toby explained. "I'm not quite sure of their arrival date; probably it's today or tomorrow."
The woman smiled and nodded. "Just a moment, sir, let me check for you," she said as her fingers flew over the keyboard on the shelf just below the counter. She paused and studied the screen for a moment. "Okay, they're not registered yet; let me check our reservations." She reached for the keyboard again. "Here we are; Vengeance, Wilmington, Delaware. Sail, 65 feet overall. Does that sound like her?"
"Yes, ma'am," Toby said, pleased.
"Looks like their plans changed. They had a reservation for arrival this afternoon, but they called yesterday and cancelled."
"Do you know if they're delayed? Or did they go somewhere else?" Toby asked, disappointment in his voice.
"Sorry, sir. We wouldn't know; they didn't leave any messages for you. Sometimes people do that when they change their minds. Were they expecting to meet you here?"
"Oh, it was nothing definite. We just thought maybe it would work out; kind of a surprise," Toby said. "Thanks for your help."
"You're welcome, sir. Thanks for visiting Puerto del Rey Marina. Have a nice afternoon."
****
"That was wonderfu
l, Liz," Connie said, taking a final sip of crisp, chilled white wine from the moisture-beaded crystal glass. They had just finished a fresh seafood salad with thinly sliced, very fresh baguette and herb-encrusted brie. Liz had served the meal on a white linen table cloth in the cockpit, under the shade of the awning which Dani had rigged while Liz prepared the meal. "You'll spoil me in no time, at this rate."
"Get used to it," Liz said, smiling, "especially when we're somewhere like here, where everything's fresh and easy to get. We usually try to put on a special dinner when we get in after a few days at sea, but I thought we would all be ready for an early night tonight, considering. I thought a late lunch might be better, with some cold cuts before bedtime. Sorry we didn't do a big welcome aboard bash for you, but I thought you were in a hurry to get out of Nassau."
"Well, that was a great lunch. How about if I treat us all to a nice dinner ashore tomorrow night as a way of thanking you for 'showing me the ropes?' I guess you really did, too."
"That would be nice," Dani said. "We could show you around the island a bit tomorrow, if that suits, and finish up somewhere close by for dinner."
"Sounds good to me," Liz added. "Is there anything in particular that you want to see or do tomorrow, Connie?"
"Not really. Let's just kind of wander around. I'll look at some of the guidebooks in my cabin later, but I'm content just to take it easy and get a feel for things for now."
"Good for you," Dani said. "Most of our guests are in a big rush; of course, most of them don't start out standing watches on a five-day offshore passage. You must be a little tired. I swung the hammock on the foredeck, by the way. Why don't you stretch out up there under the awning and read; we've got some minor maintenance to take care of this afternoon."
"Aren't you two tired?" Connie asked.
"We're used to living on a watch schedule. Remember, we do this all the time," Liz answered.
Connie eyed the hammock and smiled. "Thanks, ladies. I think I feel a nap coming on."
****
"Damn!" Sam exclaimed. He and Wallace were in Sam's office, with Toby on the speakerphone. Toby had just told them about the near miss at Puerto del Rey.
"It was a long shot. Didn't cost anything, since we're here anyway, but I didn't really think it would be that easy," Toby said.
"So did you check the other marinas in the area?" Wallace asked.
"No. I've got some other things working. It's not likely that they would have come to Puerto Rico after they canceled their reservation at Puerto del Rey. If they hadn't made that reservation to begin with, I'd feel different, but that's the easiest place for a boat like that to clear with customs. They probably got a wind shift and just decided to go where it took them; maybe the Virgins, maybe farther east. They got a nice northerly blowing for a few days. Maybe Antigua."
"How will you find them, then?" Wallace asked. "Let's hear your detailed plan."
"Like I said, I've got some other things working," Toby said, exasperation edging into his voice. He wasn't accustomed to being micromanaged; he wondered how Sam put up with his new partner.
Sam put a finger on the mute button and glared at Wallace. "Don't push him. This is a favor, for old time's sake. He doesn't work for us, and he doesn't have a dog in this fight, Wallace."
Wallace nodded, "Right," he said, and Sam released the mute button. "Sorry, Toby. Forgive me for being a little anxious; I appreciate what you're doing for us," Wallace said. "How's it working out with Willie?"
"Okay," Toby spat out the word, annoyed. "I need to cut this short; I've got some trades I need to make while the market's still open. I'll be in touch." Toby disconnected.
"He's kind of touchy, isn't he?" Wallace asked.
"He runs his own show. Always did. His father and mine were partners for a lot of years."
"I thought he used to run one of your boats," Wallace said.
"Yeah, he did. That was a long time ago; he was just a kid and he liked the excitement. It was a lark for him. He outgrew it real quick and carved out a piece of south Florida for himself. He's like family, but he's my family, not yours. Don't piss him off. He'll do what's best for me on this one; he kind of owes me, but you don't want to be on the wrong side of him. He's tight with all the Cubans; I don't even know everything he's into."
"Why's he even doing this, then?" Wallace asked.
"Like I said, he owes me one."
"Yeah but why him, personally? Couldn't he send somebody?"
"Sure he could. He's bored; he likes hands-on stuff. Just go with it, Wallace. Trust me."
Sam got up and walked over to the sideboard. He lifted a Waterford crystal captain's decanter and held a matching tumbler out toward Wallace, raising his eyebrows. Wallace nodded, and Sam poured a generous tot of single malt into two glasses. He sat down beside Wallace, handing him the drink. "Peace?" Sam asked, raising his glass.
"Peace," Wallace agreed, touching his glass to Sam's.
Chapter 15
Toby was stretched out in the shade with a big straw hat over his face while Willie was fishing. They were anchored within a few yards of a long-abandoned interisland freighter that was hard aground in St. Martin's lagoon. Toby had heard from the computer geek last night; EJW Yacht Charters had gotten an email from someone named Liz informing them that Vengeance had arrived in St. Martin and was booked for the next two months.
He and Willie had been on the first flight to St. Martin's Princess Juliana Airport that morning. They had rented a somewhat worse-for-wear rigid inflatable boat with a decrepit 15-horsepower outboard and had immediately set out to find Vengeance. Toby knew exactly what she looked like, having studied the pictures on Vengeance's website at length. Within an hour, they had spotted her, noticing that one of the blond women was tinkering with something on deck.
Toby had decided that a little time invested in surveillance would serve them well, so they had bought fishing tackle and spent the remainder of the morning poking around the lagoon, keeping a surreptitious eye on Vengeance. In the late morning, the women had climbed into their dinghy and headed for one of the big marinas on the south shore of the lagoon.
Willie had been ready to board Vengeance at that point, but Toby had restrained him. There were too many occupied yachts anchored close to Vengeance; it would have been difficult to board her without being seen, and perhaps challenged, by someone from a neighboring boat.
Toby had instead opted to anchor with the derelict freighter hiding them from their quarry; the crumbling hulk provided a bit of shade and the fish were biting, although Willie hadn't managed to do anything but lose bait so far. That was okay with Toby; it kept Willie amused and quiet. By peering under the curve of the rounded stern of the rusting wreck, they could see Vengeance well enough.
Toby thought that the women had gone sightseeing or shopping; they would probably return sometime this evening. He could put Willie aboard under cover of darkness, whether the women were there or not. Toby was hoping that Willie could search the boat while the women were out, but Willie seemed almost excited by the prospect of confronting them. That worried Toby, but Willie was Sam's and Wallace's choice.
Toby planned to hold himself in reserve, keeping their RIB poised for a quick getaway while he waited for Willie to search Vengeance. Willie seemed confident enough that he could handle the three women if necessary; they all looked to be on the small side and he would have the advantage of surprise. Toby could join him if Willie needed help, or he could run interference if someone from a nearby boat got curious. As Toby and Willie had expected, the three women returned just before dusk, laden with shopping bags.
Toby watched as dinghies zipped from yacht to yacht in the anchorage in the rapidly waning light. He knew that yachting people were social creatures; he hoped that the women on Vengeance weren't part of the evening cocktail crowd. As the vermilion sunset faded from the sky, the cocktail hour dinghy traffic died down and the women left Vengeance again. Toby watched the aft running light on their dinghy recede in
to the distance until it was lost in the plethora of lights along the southeastern shore.
"Going to dinner, no doubt," Toby remarked.
Willie nodded and stowed his fishing tackle. "Now?" he asked.
"Yeah," Toby grunted as he retrieved their anchor and started the outboard. He steered the dinghy through the maze of anchored yachts at slow speed. Running at idle speed was a common safety precaution after dark, so they attracted no particular notice from the neighboring boats.
He passed close alongside Vengeance at a snail's pace and Willie slithered aboard in one fluid motion. Toby was surprised at the man's agility. "Guess everybody's good at something," he muttered to himself as he stopped the dinghy about 50 yards from the nearest anchored boat. He killed the engine and picked up a paddle, holding his position with an occasional stroke as he kept an eye on Vengeance. Moonrise wouldn't be for several hours, so the darkness hid Willie as he jimmied the companionway doors. Toby could make him out as a dark spot against the lights ashore, but only because he knew where to look.
****
Willie crouched in the cockpit, keeping his profile below the line of the boat's structure as he picked the lock. He noticed that the companionway was equipped for security bars which, had they been in place, would have required him to find another way to get inside. The women apparently thought this was a safe anchorage and hadn't bothered with extra precautions; certainly it was a nuisance to put the bars in and lock them individually. Willie was grateful that they thought this was a low-crime neighborhood. Finally, he felt the pins fall into place and the lock turned. He opened the doors and slipped down the ladder, not rising to his full height until he was below deck where he wouldn't be silhouetted by the lights from the shore.
He took out a penlight and made a quick survey of the entire boat, marveling at the luxurious appointments. All the wood gleamed, and the pleasant smell of freshly applied varnish mingled with the musky scent of expensive perfume. He decided based on the luggage that the aft cabin was being used by the Velasquez woman. There was an unoccupied cabin with two berths on the port side, amidships, and it appeared that the two blond women were sharing the cabin that was all the way forward. He stuck the penlight back in his pocket and slipped on an LED headlamp, selecting the red light to minimize the chance of someone outside noticing glare through the portholes.
Bluewater Ice: The Fourth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 4) Page 8