Nico and I exchanged knowing glances. We knew them all too well.
“We were told they got the cold storage keys,” said Nico, still leaning over Artie’s desk.
Ozzy nodded, without taking his eyes off of me. “Yeah, Artie had locked them in the safe last night. T-they must have forced him to open it.”
Nico slammed her hand down on the desk, then swiped a pile of trash onto the ground. “Shit!”
Something about that caught my attention. I leaned down and plucked up one of the things she’d tossed off. “Is this a Greasy’s Taco wrapper?” I asked, unfolding one of the crumpled wrappers.
Ozzy picked another one up off Artie’s desk and turned it over. “Umm, yeah. Why?”
“I found Greasy’s Taco wrappers in the truck those guys were driving,” I said. I looked at Ozzy curiously. “Ozzy, do you think Artie was being abducted by those men, or is it possible that he left voluntarily with them?”
Ozzy made a face. “Well, now that you say that, it didn’t seem like he was putting up much of a fight. He might have been leaving voluntarily. I-I really don’t know.”
My hands covered my face. It was all making sense now. Artie, Mr. Cryptocurrency himself, had set this all up! That’s why Jimmie was staying at his resort. That’s how Jimmie had figured out which room I was in the first night, and how the Aussies had figured out which cottage I was in later. He’d known about Cami seeing everything, so he’d sent them to follow and kill her. And then Al had just handed over the cold storage keys to him. I couldn’t believe it. Al was going to be devastated to find out that his old buddy was the one that had ordered the hit on both Jimmie and Camila Vergado!
I looked up at Ozzy. “Can I see Artie’s computer?”
“See it? Y-yeah, of course. Why?”
“I just want to check something.”
Ozzy got up and moved out of the way. I took his place behind Artie’s desk.
“What are you looking for?” asked Nico, coming up behind me.
I logged on to the internet and checked Artie’s browsing history. Sure enough, he’d been on several cryptocurrency websites that day. I pointed at the screen. “I don’t think Artie got abducted by those guys, Nico. I think he’s the kingpin. Check this out.”
She stared at the screen. Her jaw dropped. “No fucking way. He’s been under our nose this whole time!”
“Exactly.”
She gave me a little shove. “Move over. I wanna see if he cashed out the cold storage keys yet.”
I got up and paced the room while she worked. “I can’t believe this. Al’s going to flip out when he hears that Artie’s been behind this all along.”
Nico suddenly sat up straighter and clapped her hands together. “He hasn’t cashed them out yet!”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
I shook my head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he not cash them out? Why wait?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t shit where you eat, I guess. He’s trying to make it look like he was abducted. He steals the keys and cashes them out off-site so if the cops check his computer, they won’t have a record of him doing it here. That way he keeps the money and no one is the wiser. It’ll just look like the bad guys got him and the keys, and then when he comes back to the resort, pretending to have escaped, it’s business as usual.”
“So if he hasn’t cashed out the keys yet, then where’s he going to do it at?”
Ozzy raised a nervous hand. “U-umm, excuse me?”
We both looked at him at the same time.
“What?” asked Nico, her voice clearly annoyed.
“D-do you think if Artie and those guys knew I saw them, they might come after me?”
My mind immediately went to Cami and what had happened to her. I couldn’t help but nod. “Unfortunately, Oz, yes. I think until we get them arrested, no one’s safe.”
Ozzy’s eyes widened. “U-mm,” he began, clearing his throat. “I just remembered. I’ve got something really important to do. Ummm, in my room. Do you need me anymore, or can I go?”
Nico flicked her hand towards him as if she were shooing away a mosquito. “Go, go.”
“We should go too,” I said. “We can figure out where to start looking for them in the car. Come on.”
We left Artie’s office and headed for the lobby, where we found Al just returning from the bathroom. “Drunk! Sorry about that! Did you figure anything out?”
“Hey, Al. We’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s going on,” I said. “And you’re not going to like it.”
Al shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
I put a conciliatory hand on his shoulder. “Al, we think those two Aussies were working for Artie. We don’t think he was abducted. We think he left willingly.”
Al furrowed his puffy white brows. “What!” His head began to shake. “No way. You’re crazy!”
“No, Al. He had all kinds of cryptocurrency stuff on his computer’s history. We think he left the resort property to cash out those cold storage keys.”
“There’s no way Artie would have tried to have you killed, Drunk. Artie’s a nice guy. H-he wouldn’t do that.”
“Al, I realize you’re having a hard time with this. And I get it. The guy was a lifelong friend, but it’s time to face facts. He got into some deep shit.”
“Drunk, we gotta go,” said Nico as she edged towards the glass lobby doors, tugging on my arm. “We’re going to get there too late if we don’t hurry.”
I nodded. “We’re going to try and find Artie.”
Al’s eyes widened. “B-but I have to tell Evie what’s going on. Wait for me. She’s in the dining room having lunch with Eddie, Gary, and those two women.”
Nico tugged harder on my arm. “We don’t have time for this, Drunk. We have to go.”
I looked back at Al. The thought of taking him on such a dangerous mission worried me. All I could think about was Mrs. Al’s face when she’d told me to keep her husband safe. I smiled at him. “Go ahead, Al. We’ll wait here for you. Just hurry up.”
He gave me a smile and then turned and hobbled away.
“You can’t be serious, Drunk. We’re waiting for that old guy to ride along?”
As soon as Al was out of earshot, I shook my head. “No. I can’t have him getting hurt. Let’s go.”
48
“They’ve got to have a base of operations on the island. Where would it be?” asked Nico as she drove back in the same direction from which we’d just come.
“Hell if I know,” I grumbled. “You know more about this island than I do.”
“Maybe they took Artie to the house we were staking out the other night?” suggested Nico.
I lifted a brow. “You don’t think the shooting might have put a big red target on that place?”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “That was your fault, by the way.”
“Not my fault, and must we point fingers? You started shooting at them first.”
“If I hadn’t, we’d both be dead right now. You’re welcome.”
I waved a dismissive hand at her. “I’ll say thank you when I’ve got something to be thankful for.”
“You’re a real pain in my ass, Drunk. You know that?”
“Can we stop arguing? We’ve got to figure out where they would go.” I massaged my temples with the pads of my fingers. “We need to think like criminals. That shouldn’t be too hard for you, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, we’re dealing with computer hacking, cyber security, so you know they’re going somewhere that they can get online. I definitely think they’re headed into town. Lots of the places out here in the rural areas of the island aren’t wired for internet, or even phones.”
“Oh man, the internet on the island definitely sucks,” I agreed.
“So, where would they go for decent internet?”
Decent internet. Suddenly, Akoni’s words were replaying in my head. “Greasy’
s Taco. Best Wi-Fi on the island. Best tacos too.” The image of the wadded-up Greasy’s Taco wrappers in both the Aussies’ impounded truck and Artie’s office rolled around in my mind. Then it clicked. Their base of operations was somewhere near Greasy’s Taco! “We’ve got to get to Greasy’s Taco!”
“Oh my God, Drunk. You literally just ate two footlongs two hours ago. There’s no way you can be hungry already!”
I chuckled. “I’m not hungry, Nico. I think that’s where they’re using the internet. Greasy’s has the best Wi-Fi on the island, and both the Aussies and Artie had Greasy’s wrappers. I think their base of operations is somewhere close by.”
Nico threw her hands up. “What the hell? We’ve got no other leads.”
My phone rang then. “Hey, Al.”
“Drunk! Where in the hell are you? I’m waiting outside.”
“We left. We couldn’t wait around any longer. I’m sorry.”
“You left without me?” I could hear the hurt in his voice. It was like a knife to the chest. “But I’m your partner!”
“I know, Al. It’s just that—”
“Just that what? That you don’t have faith in me? You underestimate me, Drunk.”
The knife twisted. “I’m sorry, Al. But I promised your wife I’d keep you safe when things got hairy.”
“She isn’t my boss. Artie’s my friend. I’m not going to just hang him out to dry.”
“Al, I swear to you. Artie’s involved in all of this.”
“Where are you now?”
“We’re headed downtown. We think they might have their base of operations somewhere near Greasy’s Taco. It’s a fast-food joint.”
“I know what it is,” he snapped.
“Listen, we’ll get it all figured out. Alright? I swear, I’ll—”
The line went dead before I could finish my sentence. I’d offended him.
“Shit.”
Nico looked at me. “What?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Nothing.”
“Who is that guy anyway?”
I put my elbow up on the windowsill and peered out at the palm trees flying by. “Oh, no one special,” I said with a heavy heart. “Just my partner.”
* * *
Nico pulled the car into the Greasy’s Taco parking lot and we went inside. Greasy’s was a small, grungy diner situated in the front end of a large warehouse-style building, well deserving of a name such as Greasy’s Taco. The spicy, pungent aroma of chilies and cilantro made me cough upon entry. There was a salsa bar beneath a sneeze guard by the door and a small one-register counter beneath a hand-painted menu board. The small dining room was divided into two distinct sides by a wall running down the middle. On one side were two rows of booths separated by a narrow alley of square tables, and on the other side, there were two rows of tables with only a walkway between them. In the back of the dining room, there were small half-tables attached to the wall, each with a barstool so singles could sit and eat while looking out the window facing the covered front porch and the street.
Nico and I paced the length of both sides of the dining room before meeting back up at the counter. “They’re not here,” she said through a clenched jaw.
“I see that.” I turned to look at the girl working a piece of gum behind the counter.
She was probably all of sixteen years old. Her long black hair was wound up in a pair of braided space buns on either side of her head. She had long, fake red fingernails that looked incompatible with her position at the register.
“Can I take your order?”
I leaned on one elbow on the handmade wooden counter. “Actually, we’re looking for a friend of ours. It’s kind of an emergency. His name is Artie Balladares. We think he might come here a lot. He’s hard to miss. He’s a really big guy. Like really big.” I gestured with my hands to describe Artie’s girth.
The girl blinked. I was fairly confident she was wearing fake eyelashes too, as I’d never seen eyelashes that long before. “I dunno,” she said with a shrug.
“You dunno?” Nico repeated.
“Nope.” The girl snapped her gum, telling us exactly what she thought of our emergency situation.
I glanced over at Nico. Her face was red and her fists balled by her thighs. It looked as if she was working very hard at suppressing the urge to leap across the counter and strangle Little Miss Gum Chewer. I stood up straighter and put a hand against the small of Nico’s back, hoping the touch might calm her. “How about two big Australian guys? One’s white. He wears a cowboy hat and boots, and the other is black. He’s bald and wears an eyepatch. They used to drive a big black truck,” I suggested.
She lifted a brow. “You talking about Colin and Bruce?”
I stared at her. “Do Colin and Bruce look like the guys I was describing?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then, yes, I’m talking about Colin and Bruce. Have you seen them lately?”
“Yeah.”
I had to let out a steadying breath. “When’s the last time you saw them?”
“Just a few minutes ago, they pulled into the parking lot.”
“Did they come inside?” asked Nico anxiously.
The girl shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”
I frowned at her. “How can you not be sure if they came inside? Wouldn’t you notice?”
“No, because they work in the back,” she said as if that was the dumbest question ever. “There’s a separate entrance back there, so I wouldn’t know.”
“In the back?” said Nico.
“Yeah. Around the corner.” She kind of pointed with one of her long blood-red nails.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Hey, don’t you want a taco?” she asked as we began to walk away.
“Don’t worry. I have a few more days on the island. I’ll be back later for one,” I promised.
Outside, I looked at Nico. “Now what? We just go barging in?”
“We have no choice. It’d be nice if we had more than one gun with bullets.” She shot me a dirty look.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because it’s your fault that we don’t have any lead for my gun. If you hadn’t tossed all my ammo—”
“Are we still keeping score? Because I’m pretty sure you’re still ahead in the fault game.” I held up a hand and began ticking off fingers. “First there was the throat pun—”
“Shut it, Drunk,” she said, pulling out her empty weapon.
I pulled out mine and together we stalked around the side of the building. The dilapidated back door had a window in it, but the inside had been covered with paper.
I tried the door handle. “It’s locked,” I whispered and then removed my hat. “You wanna pick it?”
“You really think now’s the appropriate time for picking a lock, Drunk? I think now’s more like the time for brute force, don’t you? You don’t see the difference?”
I threw up my arms. “Women.” Then, popping my hat back on my head, I reared back and plowed my foot into the door. The jamb splintered and the door sprung open, and Nico and I rushed inside, guns blazing.
49
The unfinished area we burst into was large, with high ceilings. It was kind of a cross between an oversized garage and a small warehouse. Artie Balladares was seated stiffly on a wooden chair facing the doorway. Only his hat and the top of his head were visible from behind a row of computers. At the far end of the building, there was an overhead garage door with a black Jeep Cherokee parked inside.
Artie’s eyes widened when he saw me. Immediately, he glanced around furtively before whisper-hissing at me, “Drunk! Oh, am I glad to see you! How in the world did you know where I was?”
I pointed my gun at him. “What the fuck, Artie? How could you?” My booming voice echoed, bouncing off the empty corners of the room.
His eyes scanned the room once again. “Shh! What are you doing? They’ll hear you!”
Nico disregarded the warning and slowly ap
proached him, her gun drawn on him too. “Where are the keys, Artie?”
Artie shook his head. “The keys? I don’t have them.” He jerked his head backwards towards a set of wooden doors in the wall. “They have the keys. And they’re going to hear you if you don’t keep your voices down.” Then his face crinkled and he let out a loud “AACHOO!” He wiggled his nose, like he was trying to stifle another sneeze. “Can you get over here and untie me so I can itch my nose?”
I made a face. “Untie you? You’re tied up? Why are you tied up?” I walked towards Artie, still holding my gun defensively. I wasn’t about to look like an idiot and fall for his trap.
“Well, that’s generally what bad guys do when they abduct you. They tie you up,” said Artie. He raised his eyebrows. “Are you new at this cop thing or something?”
I grimaced. “Oh, please. We know damn good and well this isn’t an abduction, Artie.”
Artie looked confused. “It’s not an abduction? Then what exactly would you call it?”
“I call it you trying to double-cross your friends.”
“You’re not making any sense, Drunk. Now get over here and untie me before they come back.” He looked over his shoulder again. “I’m not really sure where they went.”
I was standing right next to Artie now. His hands were indeed tied behind his back, and his feet were tied to the chair. I tipped my head sideways. “I don’t understand why you’re tied up.”
Nico approached me. “I’ll tell you why he’s tied up. He knew we’d come looking for him, and he’s still trying to make this look like an abduction.”
“Look like an abduction!” snapped Artie. “Why in the hell would I need to make it look like an abduction? It is an abduction.”
“Shut up, Artie,” I growled. “We’ve had enough. We just want the keys back.”
“I don’t have the keys! I’m telling you! They have the keys.”
Without warning, a noise sounded behind us. I turned to see Ozzy Messina coming in through the door I’d just kicked down. My eyes widened. “Ozzy!”
Drunk on a Plane Page 23
