by J K Franko
Prior to Kristy, he’d been about one year away from graduating. He’d been a co-founder of a start-up with some real potential. He’d had a hot girlfriend. He’d finally convinced his dad to let him move out on his own—with roommates, but still. Looking back on it, he kind of regretted the whole thing. Well, the getting caught part, at least. If he’d actually thought the whole thing through, he’d have planned a bit more carefully.
But the truth was that he hadn’t really planned it out at all. It had just sort of happened.
Lesson learned, but at what a price. He’d had to drop out of UT—his dad’s suggestion. They’d probably have thrown him out if he hadn’t. He’d had to move back home. Laura—the hot daytime girlfriend—had disappeared. But the worst part really had been the impact on his sex life. Once word gets out that you’re a fucking roofie-dishing rapist, it’s like being a leper. He’d even had hookers take a pass on him.
That’s why this deal with Cruise Capital could be a gamechanger. Miami would be a whole new world—a fresh start. In Miami, he was no one. No one, but also potentially the successful director of a very successful enterprise. They’d be lining up to blow him.
Sure, the whole dad being a senator thing had always been useful, and probably wouldn’t carry that far down there, but something had to give.
One thing at a time.
So long as he could use his dad to get David what he wanted, where Joe actually lived may not even matter to them.
Joe Harlan Jr. stood when they called boarding for Group Five.
After taking his seat, he discretely took a valium out of his shirt pocket and slipped it under his tongue. No stress. A quick nap. Next stop, Miami.
* * *
Roy called David at 1:30 p.m. from the Yellowfin, which was still anchored just off the coast of Bimini. Susie had been keeping watch all day while Roy rested—nothing unusual.
“Hey, boss. What’s up?”
“Hey, partner,” Roy responded. “All good here. Just wanted to touch base. I sent you an email on the ArtCraft deal. I think it’s a winner.”
“Yep. Got it. I’m gonna Skype tonight with Todd and Gordon to go over the details.”
“Sounds good. Nothing like a conference call and a nice glass of scotch by the air conditioner.” Roy laughed.
“Yeah. It’s been a long couple of days. Over-celebrated the partner thing Tuesday night. Man, I am not as young as I used to be.” He chuckled.
“Tell me about it.”
“But, yeah. I’ll check your email and send you my thoughts after the call.”
“Perfect. Everything else good?”
“Yeah. Got that Harlan guy here tomorrow morning. Pushed it back to 10:00. That way, we can roll it into lunch, get a couple of beers or whatever into him. Then I’ll soft-pitch the TrueData idea. See how he responds. The more I think about it, it makes a lot of sense for him.”
“Yeah, but you’d be surprised how many people will choose the path that benefits them the least.”
“I dunno. This guy, he seemed pretty motivated about coming out here. We’ll see.”
“Okay. Well, let me know what you think on the diligence stuff. Just email me. We can circle back after I see your comments.”
“Will do,” David answered. “Hey, how’s the trip? Looked like the weather was kind of crap earlier this week.”
“It was, but it’s much better today. We’ve just been hanging out. Beachcombing. That sort of thing. But, man, something I ate last night did not agree me with me. I was on the can all night.”
“Whoa, Roy! TMI, man.”
Roy laughed. “Oh yeah. I forget. You don’t have kids. Once you’ve had a kid, discussing puke and shit becomes pretty normal.”
David chuckled. “Jeez. Is it too late to take that termination offer?”
They laughed.
“Alright, David. Talk soon,” Roy said.
“Cool. Enjoy. Say hi to Susie.”
“Will do.” And with that, Roy hung up, then looked at Susie. “No change in plans. David’s got a conference call tonight. So he’ll have a solid alibi. He’s not meeting with Harlan until tomorrow, so our guy is available.”
“Okay,” Susie stretched her shoulders, then her neck, tilting her head to each side. “Well then, let’s do it.”
Roy turned off his cell phone and stowed it in Susie’s waterproof backpack. Susie’s was already in there—also turned off.
As Roy started the engines, Susie changed into white shorts and a light blue long-sleeved boat shirt. She was wearing a ballcap with her hair pulled up in a ponytail and large dark sunglasses. They doubted that Harlan would have researched Susie as a part of any investigating he might have done into Cruise Capital in advance of his trip, but to be safe, they wanted to be sure to obfuscate her features as much as possible.
Roy had already changed into khaki lululemon shorts and a white v-neck t-shirt. He was also wearing a floppy white bucket hat and sunglasses.
He set course for Government Cut.
They were giving themselves ample time to make the crossing, just in case there were any unexpected bumps along the way. The weather had held nicely all day, though, and the crossing was even smoother than Roy’s earlier voyage that morning.
They rode in silence sitting side by side, passing a few boats here and there that were headed in the opposite direction. Roy imagined they carried families, groups, and couples that were heading across to Bimini for a short vacation, or maybe just into the Straits for some deep-sea fishing. There was no reason for any of them to take note of the couple in the Yellowfin boat, let alone stop to think, They look suspicious. Probably murderers. Remember that boat!
Roy felt queasy anyway. Not that he was having second thoughts. Just that it was all becoming very real. After all the planning and preparation, this was it. It was go time!
At about 3:45 p.m., Roy could see the entrance to Government Cut, and he turned the helm over to Susie, who was playing the part of ship’s mate.
Roy got the Seattle burner phone out of the backpack while Susie slowed the boat so that he would be able to hear to make the call.
In all their planning, they had been diligent about ensuring that nothing conflicted with their Bimini alibi. As they’d been finalizing things, Susie had raised the opposite point. They also needed to ensure that there was nothing connecting Harlan or his disappearance to Bimini, and therefore to them.
Based on Susie’s research, they learned that mobile phone carriers keep logs identifying which cellular towers a mobile phone number has been associated with. If you make a call on your mobile phone from Colorado, the call information is captured and logged. Most carriers keep that data for at least one year. AT&T purportedly keeps it for ten years.
Armed with this knowledge, they’d turned off their personal mobile phones before leaving Bimini. And they had not turned on the Seattle or Miami burner phones at all, yet.
Now that they were back in Miami, the plan called for them to use the Seattle burner. This was the first time the phone had been turned on since Roy bought it, and he was somewhat apprehensive that the thing might fail. If it did, their whole plan was shot since there was no back-up. He should have bought two.
Roy took a deep breath. He turned on the phone. It booted up, thankfully.
He dialed Joe Harlan Jr.
Contrary to my belief that contacting Marty McCall was the weakest link in their plan, Roy believed that it was this phone call that put them at greatest risk. For their plan to work, they had to convince Harlan to come to them. That meant contacting him and giving him notice of a potential meeting.
Notice meant time—time that Harlan could use to let someone, anyone, know that Roy Cruise had called him. Let them know that he was going to meet with Cruise.
They’d tried to come up with a safer approach, but in the end they’d decided
that it was a trade-off. Either they could go to Harlan—in which case they could not dictate the crime scene—or they could bring him to them, dictating the crime scene but running the risk that he might contact someone. They’d opted for the latter.
If it all went to shit and the Harlan kid did share details of the meeting with someone, their plan was simple—deny. After all, they were in Bimini. The only witness who could testify firsthand that Roy had called Joe Harlan Jr. was Joe Harlan Jr. And if everything went according to plan, he would be dead.
“Hello?”
“Joe Harlan?”
“Speaking. Who’s this?”
“Roy Cruise of Cruise Capital. How are you?”
“Oh, hey, Mr. Cruise. I’m fine, how are you?”
“I’m great, Joe. Great. Did you make it into Miami, okay?”
“Yes, I did. Thanks for asking, sir. I just got into the hotel a while ago. It’s really nice. Thanks for putting me up.”
“Oh, don’t mention it, Joe. Least we could do,” Roy said. “Um, so, listen… since you’re already in town, I wanted to give you a call to see if you’d like to have dinner tonight?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. But, where are you calling from? I’m getting a weird area code. Are you in Miami?”
“Yeah. My mobile phone’s dead. Borrowed my captain’s phone. We’re out on my yacht. We just finished entertaining some clients—investors. But David’s taking it from here. Anyway, didn’t know if you wanted to come aboard and have something to eat.” Roy’s tone was casual, relaxed, as if he’d been lounging around all day, tanning himself, instead of plotting murder. “I wanted to call you, what with you being in the city. I wasn’t sure if you knew anyone down here and didn’t want you spending the evening alone. If you’re free, of course, I mean if you have plans, then…” he left the sentence unfinished hoping that the boy would jump in.
“Are you kidding me? Dinner on your yacht or hotel food alone? Sure! I’d love to!”
“Fantastic. How about we pick you up at six?”
“Okay.”
“You’re staying at the Intercontinental, right?”
“I am.”
“Okay. We can pick you up at Bayside Marina. It’s about a ten-minute walk from your hotel. Or you can Uber if you can’t take the heat.”
“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll be there at six sharp.”
“Perfect. There’s a shopping center kind of attached to the marina. I’ll meet you there, in front of the Starbucks, and then we can walk out to the boat. If you have any issues finding it, call me here. I’ll keep the phone handy. And, once my phone is recharged, I’ll send you a text so you have that number, too.”
“Sounds good, sir. Looking forward to it. I’ll see you at the Starbucks.”
“Excellent.”
Roy hung up. The die was cast.
* * *
At 5:50 p.m., the Yellowfin pulled into Bayside Marina. Susie captained the boat. She looked the part, and to complete her disguise, she’d pulled a white UV sun gaiter that she’d had around her neck up to cover the lower portion of her face. These are very common on the waters in Miami. All that sun—skin cancer kills.
Roy debarked and headed toward the market. As he walked, he dialed Harlan on the Seattle burner phone.
“Hello.”
“Joe! How goes it, man?”
“Good, good. Just getting to the shopping center. I think I’m in the right place.”
“That’s great. I’m in the marina right now, but I’m heading your way. Should be there in about five minutes. Get yourself to the Starbucks and wait for me there, okay?”
“Got it. See you!”
Roy left the dock and walked over to the Bayside Marketplace. He carried a pair of sunglasses for Harlan.
As he rounded the corner, he saw his would-be victim standing in front of the coffee shop, waiting. He was dressed casually—khaki pants, a blue polo shirt, and boat shoes. He was wearing sunglasses and looking around as if expecting someone.
“Joe,” Roy said, holding out his hand.
“Roy,” the kid responded, shaking it.
“Right on time. I like that. Come on. We’re over this way.”
As they walked, Roy asked, “Those shades UV-rated?” He nodded at the glasses the boy was wearing.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. So, first time in Miami?”
Small talk came easy as they made their way back to the marina. Roy wasn’t focused on the conversation, but on whether or not anyone was giving them any undue attention. The area was crowded with locals and tourists, but everyone seemed to be on about their own business. Nothing out of the ordinary.
They reentered the marina proper and walked toward the drop-off where Susie, who had been hovering offshore, was slowly puttering back to pick them up.
“This is us,” Roy said as he caught the line tossed out by his wife.
“Hey,” Susie said, enthusiastically. “Welcome.”
“And that’s Jen. First mate. She’ll be running us out to the yacht.”
“Hi,” Joe said.
Roy gestured to Harlan to climb aboard as he held the line. Then Roy followed suit, bringing the line on board with him and pushing them off of the dock.
“This is our guest of honor, Joe Harlan Junior,” Roy said, officially making the introduction.
“Well, it’s really nice to meet you,” Susie said before turning back to the helm.
Roy and Harlan took seats at the stern as Susie piloted them out of the marina. Once out, she pulled beers out of the cooler. She handed a Michelob Ultra to Roy and a Cristal Peruvian lager to Harlan. “I’d offer you a Michelob, but that’s what the boss drinks and there’re only two left,” she said, lifting her eyebrows at her husband.
“No worries,” Harlan said. “Thanks.”
Susie returned to the helm. She was now too far from her passengers to hear the conversation over the engine noise.
“So, do you boat much?” Roy asked, taking a healthy swig of his beer and then releasing an appreciative sigh. “Wow… that’s good. Thirsty! It’s been a long, hot day.” He raised his bottle. “Cheers, Joe! Welcome to Miami!” He exclaimed, beaming.
“Cheers!” They clinked bottles and drank deeply.
“No. Not much boating,” Joe continued, “not this kind. I mean, we get out on the water down in Austin, but it’s river boating. Completely different,” he breathed. “Wakeboarding, that kind of stuff. Nothing like this.”
Roy studied Harlan as he spoke. He looked just like he had in the YouTube video Susie had shown him. Thin guy. Lanky. Average height. A decent looking kid, in a WASPy kind of way. The kind you’d imagine pledging a frat at UT.
“Gotcha. Yeah, this is different. So, anyway, the plan for tonight. The yacht’s out on the other side of South Beach. Chef’s getting dinner prepped. Meanwhile, Jen’s gonna take us around the bay. Through the Venetian. Stunning views. So, you’ll be able to do some sightseeing. And, of course, if you’re into that kind of thing and want her to point out any celebrity houses, just say so. She knows her stuff. Then we’ll head out to the yacht for dinner.”
“Sounds great,” Joe said.
Roy pulled on his beer again, and saw that Joe was keeping up. “So, this boat, then—it’s just your tender?” Harlan asked.
“Yeah. This is for short hops, and fishing. The yacht’s bigger. Nicer and more comfortable.”
“Man, it must be amazing. Being so successful. I mean, our family business is politics. That’s a very different animal. Not so much about creating value as redistributing it, you know? I always had a hard time figuring out what direction to go. Follow my old man’s footsteps or do something else. Did you always know you wanted to do what you’re doing?”
Roy shifted in his seat. This kid was engaging. Likeable. Sure, it was flattery, but he pulled
it off well—it seemed sincere. As he watched him talk, he tried to understand how this handsome, affable young man could have done what he had to Kristy.
What if he didn’t?
Roy pushed that thought out of his head. He’d already crossed that bridge. He and Susie both had. The research had been done and it had been thorough. He had even sought out McCall’s up-close and personal version. It was clear. No. The way this agreeable young man presented himself here today did not change what he’d supposedly done, what he had done, that Halloween night.
“… and you also have a law degree, right?” Joe was asking, admiringly.
Roy forced a smile and automatically gave a brief rundown of how he’d transitioned from law to business. He deliberately kept the overview short because he wanted his guest to talk more. He wanted to listen to him, to find reasons not to like him.
“So, how much did David tell you exactly about why we wanted this meeting?”
“David—great guy, by the way—said that you guys were looking hard at the government procurement space. That you were talking to a bunch of companies, and that as a result of those discussions, you felt like you needed some expertise on the government side. Public affairs type experience. And, since that’s what I’m doing at Procurex, he said y’all thought it’d be worth sitting down and talking about how we might help each other.
“And so, I’m here to let you guys fill in the blanks. I mean, I understand the space, and I’ve got solid connections—in Texas, for sure—so the question is how we can help each other out.”
The kid was articulate. Direct. He appeared to know exactly what he had to offer, although Roy noticed that while he mentioned his connections, obviously for effect, he didn’t dwell on them. Roy imagined this was because he was aware of the limit to his father’s reach.
Roy nodded. “That’s a good summary. And right on target. So... um, Jen!” he shouted. “Could you bring us another round?” He looked at the young man, who nodded gratefully and promptly drained the rest of his bottle.
