And why am I her last resort?
CHAPTER 5
Jack settled into a first-class window seat aboard Delta’s eleven-fifteen flight to Orlando. A relaxing first leg of the trip, though he remained skeptical of its outcome.
“You really think this deal is that good?”
Robert buckled himself into the aisle seat. “Too good not to at least take a look at her. And if the boat doesn’t work out, we’ll get to spend a few days in Key West. Perhaps this time around, we’ll be able to take in the Hemingway Days celebration.”
The aisle filled with passengers inching their way to coach.
Jack tugged his seatbelt tight across his lap, relieved to be sitting up front. “Something tells me you had these seats reserved.”
“For a couple of weeks,” Robert said. “I scheduled the flight hoping you’d return in time. After tomorrow, it would have been a moot point. We’d never have made it by the twelfth.”
“So we hit the decks running, so to speak?”
“Allowing for the time change, we arrive tomorrow morning at five-twenty. We’ll grab our bags, catch an Air Taxi, and be in Key West by nine.”
“Gee, an entire day to make up my mind.”
“Don’t forget. I’ll be along to help.”
“That’s what worries me. Seems your mind is already made up.”
“It’s still your money.”
Jack leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “And my decision to make.”
* * *
At eight-fifty the next morning, seated inside the Cirrus SR22 Air Taxi on approach to Key West International, Jack peered out the window at an endless expanse of deep-blue Gulf water. Boats powered and under sail left a frothy white ‘V’ of foam in a wake behind them as they cut a path through the water.
“Seems like we were just here.”
Robert kept his face turned to his window. “Doesn’t feel like it’s been five years. But it has.”
The plane touched down smoothly with a minor shriek of its tires and settled onto the runway. Jack climbed out of the plane and waited for their bags to be unloaded while Robert headed for the car rental counter.
Fifteen minutes later, Robert led the way to a red and white Mini Cooper with a roof rack. Jack shook his head. “Talk about déjà vu.”
“Be glad there’s only two of us this time.”
“Still, you could have picked a car with more leg room.” Jack slid the seat all the way back and wedged himself in.
Robert grinned. “Small town, small car.”
Jack forced a chuckle. “Heard that before.”
On the way to One Duval Street, Robert said, “I reserved us a suite at the Pier House. Ms. Faggini has a room there as well and is expecting us. We’ll dump our bags and let her know we’ve arrived.”
“She’ll be conducting the tour?”
“A cousin is in town to help reconcile her affairs. He’ll take us aboard the Adeona. But any questions we have, will be answered by Ms. Faggini or a Mr. Noel A. Wilson, AMS—Wilson Marine Surveying & Consulting—who surveyed the boat.”
“AMS—Accredited Marine Surveyors. So we’ll be getting a reputable report?”
“That would be my guess.”
“Then there’s no reason to wait,” Jack said. “We flew a long way to have a look at her. Let’s get it done.”
They met Ms. Faggini’s cousin in the bar at ten. Ms. Faggini had given them his name, Salvatore Vincente, and described him as tall, fit, and handsome, with short dark hair. Jack had no trouble picking him out of the dozen or so customers. Robert made the introductions and they shook hands.
“We understand you will be taking us aboard the boat,” Jack said.
Salvatore handed them each a bound sheaf of papers as thick and heavy as a major department store catalogue. “If you look at the specs, you’ll see the Adeona is more than just an ordinary boat.”
Jack thumbed through the pages which consisted of the recent survey report, a comprehensive maintenance history, and a complete set of operator’s manuals. More reading than he could do in a week.
He scanned the general-information page of the survey report: 2008 Tennant New Yorker; twin four hundred and fifty horsepower Volvo Penta six-cylinder in-line diesel engines, with two hundred and thirty-five original hours on each; length fifty eight and a half feet; beam thirty feet. Nodding his approval, he noted the additional convenience of oversized fresh water tanks. A must in his mind. He finished the list with a feeling the prior owner had spared no expense. On paper the Adeona was everything Robert made her out to be and more.
“Impressive,” he said. “Shall we take a look at her?”
“If you’ll follow me.”
They stepped aboard a Boston Whaler dinghy. Salvatore started the twenty-five horsepower Mercury outboard and put them on a course for Key West Bight. A short ride of two or three minutes. There were a lot of large and small boats sitting at anchor. Even so, having seen the photo of Adeona, Jack had no trouble spotting her.
He had been around enough yachts to not be easily impressed. Still, he liked the look of this one . . . even from a distance.
They boarded by way of the stern. Steps molded into the fiberglass hulls. Not unlike Pono. But she had a wider beam by several feet. Jack liked that feature.
“My kind of boat,” Robert said, peering in through a window.
Jack wasn’t sold on her yet. “We’ll see.”
They entered the richly equipped salon through the rear hatchway. A large dining booth with plenty of seating to starboard. A more than adequate galley to port. Granite countertops. A lot of polished hardwood. He made a careful inspection of the aft compartment before continuing on. Robert followed close behind him, refraining from comment.
A hatchway with three steps leading up, separated the salon from the forward cabin. A corner sofa sat to port with the main control console located to starboard. Directly next to the helm, a watertight door provided access to the outside deck. He examined the controls, gauges, and the ship’s electronics. So far Adeona appeared every bit a fine vessel. He wanted to see below.
He moved quickly through the staterooms and the adjoining heads to port and starboard. Everything spotless. He led them back into the forward cabin.
“Is she not beautiful?” Salvatore asked.
“She is that,” Jack said. “I’d like to see up top.”
They climbed the steps to a hatch that opened up onto a spacious upper deck with patio furniture and a swing-out winch for stowing the dinghy. Forward of that sat the topside controls. He walked directly to the panel, unsnapped the waterproof cover, and examined the levers and instruments. Pleased when he found them polished and free of corrosion. The closed and open radar arrays and weather antenna were mounted on an arch over his head. A ladder led up to an observation platform forward the arch.
He turned to Salvatore. “The Adeona is quite nice. And I’m extremely interested in purchasing her if everything checks out. I’d like to speak with Ms. Faggini and arrange for a test run.”
“You have the survey report.” Salvatore pointed to the packet in Jack’s hands. “I assure you everything is in perfect working order.”
Jack shot a glance at Robert, got a nod in return, and looked at Salvatore. “It’s still an eleven-year-old boat. If something is going to go wrong with her, it’ll go wrong at sea.”
“I understand.”
“It’s almost noon. Perhaps we can talk over lunch.”
Salvatore motioned aft. “I suggest we go.”
CHAPTER 6
Cherise fought fatigue as she approached the baggage carousel inside New York’s La Guardia Airport. Too many hours in the air, with too little sleep.
Half her adult life had been spent that way.
She checked her phone for the time. Nine-thirty. Fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. She scrolled through her messages and found a missed call and two texts from Lindsey. The first text had been sent four hours earlier and read:
&n
bsp; Sorry I missed your call. I’ve been so busy. Got your messages. Glad you’re on your way. My father is missing and I’m hoping you can help me find him. I’ll fill you in when you get here.
The second message sent an hour later read:
Arranged for a driver to pick you up and take you to the Grand Hyatt Hotel. I’ve booked a room in your name. I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant at noon. Can’t wait to see you.
She took a deep breath and tapped a text back that she had arrived.
Finally.
She scanned the crowd and saw a thick-chested man in a black suit holding a card with her name printed in bold black letters. Her bags arrived and she wheeled them over to him.
“I’m Cherise. We can go any time.”
“My name is Daniel,” he replied. “My car is right across the street.”
He took hold of her bags and rolled them outside to a parked black Lincoln Town Car with tinted windows. She slid onto the rear seat, looking forward to seeing Lindsey.
And hearing the entire story.
Daniel jockeyed their way to Grand Central Station and the second level entrance to the Grand Hyatt Hotel at 109 East 42nd Street. She didn’t count on an early arrival check-in, but hoped to get into her room in time to freshen up before meeting Lindsey for lunch.
A bellman loaded her luggage onto a wheeled cart, and she took the escalator down to the front desk. When a guest ahead of her finished checking in, she took her turn at the counter.
“Cherise Venetta,” she said. “I believe you have a reservation for me.”
The agent tapped his keyboard and consulted his computer screen. “The room has been on hold for you since late last night. A Ms. Lindsey Taylor checked in for you, with a note you’d be arriving today.”
“So I’ll be able to go right up?”
“Just as soon as I get your information.”
“Excellent.” She held out her passport and her black Visa card.
He took the passport and opened it. “I won’t need your credit card, Ms. Venetta. Ms. Taylor requested to have the room and all charges billed to her. Her card is already on file.”
“That was nice of her, but would you please bill my stay to this card? I’d rather she not be charged.”
“But of course.”
Fifteen minutes later, she stepped into a corner room on the thirty-fourth floor overlooking the roof of Grand Central Station. She slipped the bellman a twenty, closed the door, and engaged the dead bolt.
Silence at last.
She walked to the window and took in the wedge of Manhattan skyline visible from her room. It amazed her how in only a couple of days she had gone from hours of solitude on a deserted stretch of sandy beach on a getaway in the Northwest Hawaiian Islands to skyscrapers and a city of over a million and a half people.
She turned and scanned the room. Enormous compared to the cramped quarters aboard the Sun Dancer.
And nice by New York standards.
She still didn’t know why Lindsey had sought her assistance instead of turning to law enforcement for help, if that’s what was needed. Or why Lindsey insisted she had no one else to turn to.
Not that it made a difference.
That Lindsey had asked her to come was enough.
Cherise believed that a band of sisters brought together in a time of war is every bit as strong as a band of brothers.
Even if it’s only two sisters.
CHAPTER 7
On the short ride back to shore, Jack mentally calculated the numbers. The amount of the insurance check he received for Pono and what he would have to pay for Adeona. Not a hug difference. They arrived back at the Pier House and stood for a moment outside the beach bar.
“We’ll wait in the Chart Room Bar,” Jack said. “We can have lunch there.”
“Very well.” Salvatore glanced at his watch. “I’ll let Ms. Faggini know you wish to speak to her.”
Salvatore walked away and Robert said, “That’s a hell of a boat.”
An understatement, Jack thought. If she checked out.
“You were awfully quiet about her during the tour.”
“I think it’s obvious I was impressed.”
“But you kept your opinions to yourself.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was trying to pressure you into a decision one way or the other.”
Jack slapped Robert on the back. “I’ll buy us a beer and you give me your opinion of her.”
They took seats at a table inside the bar. Decorating the walls, an abundance of memorabilia reminded them that Jimmy Buffett began his career here. And that the Chart Room had been a local favorite where Mel Fisher often ended days of treasure hunting.
“A couple of cold draft lagers, please,” Jack said to their busty server who sported a parrot tattoo on her left breast. Kathy, according to her plastic nameplate.
For the next few minutes, Jack listened to Robert talk about the positives and the negatives Adeona offered. The biggest drawback being Ms. Faggini’s husband had clearly custom-fitted the interior with a woman in mind. Jack assured Robert minor modifications would need to be made.
They were still working on their first glass of beer when Salvatore Vincente and a beautiful dark-haired woman stepped into the room. Jack had tried to picture what Ms. Faggini would look like. The woman’s appearance, he was sure, deceived her true age. Elegance, grace, beauty. A certain familiarity about her looks suggested she could pass for Sophia Loren’s sister. Twins born a couple dozen years apart.
He and Robert pushed away from the table and stood at her approach.
“Mr. Ferrell. Mr. Foster,” Salvatore said. “This is Ms. Violetta Faggini.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jack offered his hand. “Please call me Jack.”
“And please call me Robert.” He extended his hand as well. “I’m sorry for your loss. Brian Fitzgerald is a business associate of mine. I understand he and your husband were good friends.”
She smiled. “Since before Antonio and I were married.”
Introductions made, they sat down. Ms. Faggini sat across from Jack. Salvatore sat to her left, across from Robert.
“I’d like to talk a bit before we eat, if that’s all right?” Jack directed the question at Ms. Faggini.
She nodded. “I’m anxious to hear what you have to say.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Glass of red wine would be nice.”
He turned to her cousin. “Salvatore?”
“The same.”
Jack waved Kathy over and placed the order.
She walked away and he said, “You have a very nice boat, Ms. Faggini. And I believe the price you’re offering it to me for is more than fair. Are you sure you want to sell the Adeona?”
The wine arrived and Ms. Faggini took a sip. “As you know, Antonio had the Adeona custom-refitted for me. It was his dream for us to sail the world together. Now that he is gone, I have no desire to sail the Adeona anywhere. If you are concerned about the price being low, don’t be. It in no way reflects the condition of the boat.”
Jack looked at Salvatore. Nothing in his eyes betrayed concern beyond that of seeing to Ms. Faggini’s well-being. The dutiful cousin. If he had a problem with the sale, he didn’t show it.
To Ms. Faggini, “You understand why I had to ask?”
“I assure you I’m not offended in any way. My cousin tells me that you wish to take the Adeona out to make sure everything is in working order.”
“That’s correct. However, there is more to it than making sure the engines and electronic equipment work properly. I need to satisfy myself that the boat will serve my needs.”
“Am I to assume you are serious about purchasing the Adeona?”
“I assure you, I’m extremely interested. My former boat, Pono, was very similar to the Adeona. So I shouldn’t have any problem handling her.”
“Pono.” She offered a curt nod. “When I last spoke to Mr. Fitzgerald, he told me what happe
ned. I’m sorry.”
Her comment caught Jack off-guard. Only one way she could have known about the explosion that ripped Pono apart and sent her to the bottom. He glanced at Robert and got a sheepish shrug in return.
“Thank you, Ms. Faggini. Since time is of the essence for you and for me, I’d like to take the Adeona out for a test run this afternoon.”
She gave a slight nod. “Salvatore will be happy to accompany you. First, let’s have lunch.”
CHAPTER 8
At twelve fifteen, Cherise stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the restaurant inside the hotel. Lunch chatter drifted down and mixed with the hustle of activity in the lobby.
Exhausted but wound tight with anticipation, she thought about the phone conversation she had with Lindsey a few minutes earlier.
Her father, missing.
She smiled when she saw her step onto the escalator and ride it up from street level. Her friend’s dark, shoulder length hair hung in a gentle curl below the shoulders of her dark pinstriped suit. Her skin, the color of raw honey, looked as smooth and ageless as it had when they last saw each other. She had the same broad friendly smile, but her expression showed weariness and concern uncharacteristic of her.
She obviously hadn’t been sleeping well.
Apparently, for good reason.
“I’m so glad you made it,” Lindsey said as she stepped toward her.
“Me too.” Cherise looked her up and down. “How is your leg? It’s not giving you problems, is it?”
“Other than the scar. I’m fine. I was never going to be a beauty contestant, anyway.”
Hostile Waters Page 3
