Just Follow the Money

by Jinx Schwartz

  The screen went blank, and Nacho raced for his cabin.

  “Gosh, that was short and sweet,” Jan growled. “Did we miss the ‘thank you, Hetta’ for going it alone, to meet up with the kind of bastards who would mutilate a young woman and then threaten to deliver her in pieces?”

  I shot her a warning frown. No one was supposed to know we’d actually read the ransom note. Luckily, Nacho wasn’t there to hear Jan’s statement, and a quick look around the room for reactions told me all I needed to know: Roberto, Sascha, and Team Hetta were the only ones left out of that loop.

  Roberto and Sascha exchanged a horrified glance, then Roberto tried to cover his shock with an apology. “I am sorry, Hetta. My grandfather is not used to thanking anyone for anything. He grew up hard, made his fortune without help from others, and…”

  I patted his hand. “Look, you don’t have to apologize for him. It’s obvious he’s stressed out.”

  “Self-centered old troll.” Everyone looked at Jan after yet another harsh statement. “Well? Am I wrong?”

  “In truth I suppose not, entirely,” Roberto admitted. “He has used his money to get his way over the years, and now he is at the mercy of something he cannot control. He could very well be described as self-centered, as you say, but where Juanita is concerned, he is devoted to her, and she to him.”

  “Got him wrapped around her little finger, as we say back home,” I said. “At least he has one soft spot. Anyway, Nacho will be back in a minute with the details of the exchange so we can get this rodeo on the road and be home for Christmas. So, here’s to Grandpa and his dough.”

  Everyone toasted except Jan. Her glass was empty and her pout had hardened into a mask of mad.

  I sat down next to her, but she turned away. “Why are you so pissed off at me?” I asked. “It’s not like I asked to be the one to deliver the money.”

  “Just leave me alone. For years you’ve behaved like some kind of juvenile delinquent on a joy ride, and I went along for that ride. This, this…stupid act of putting yourself in danger? It’s way over the top and you know it. If you finally send Jenks packing, you only have yourself to blame. You didn’t even try to include me as backup, and that’s it, I’m done. We’re done. I’m not sticking around for this kind of grandstanding.”

  Anger roiled in my chest. Standing up and leaning into her face, I yelled, “Fine by me. I’ve had it with you, too. And believe you me, I will definitely leave you alone. Matter of fact, why don’t you just leave?”

  She got to her feet, towered over me and hollered back, “I’ll just do that!” and stomped out of the room.

  Everyone was dumbfounded into silence, including me. I melted down onto the settee, and we were all sitting like statues, still staring at where Jan had exited, when Nacho returned with our instructions.

  Our collective attention was drawn to him as we waited to hear the next move. “Hetta, you are to deliver the money tomorrow evening, and in exchange, Juanita will be handed over to you.”

  “Fine,” I said. It came out a little warbly, which was about all I could manage. I was still smarting from Jan’s fury. She and I had had our disagreements over the years, kinda like sisters sometimes do, but she had never, ever, walked out on me, or threatened to end our friendship. I was numb with impending grief over such a loss. And her warning that I might lose Jenks, to boot, cut even deeper.

  “Hetta? Are you alright?” Nacho asked.

  “Yes. Sure. It’s just that…I want to talk to Jenks about this. I need to be absolutely sure he is onboard with what I’m about to do.”

  Nacho pulled me away from the others and whispered. “He is, I promise. You cannot talk with anyone outside this yacht. We are being monitored. Everything we say during the next twenty-four hours will be heard.”

  “How?”

  “I do not know, but I believe them. They say if we contact anyone outside of this vessel, they will drop Juanita into the sea with an anchor around her neck.”

  My entire body went numb. A few years before, that happened to some cruisers I’d actually met, and the idea of being thrown overboard, tied to an anchor, and sinking to a terrifying death was, for me, a nightmare that actually caused me to lose sleep.

  “But if they do that, whoever they are, they won’t get the money. And an innocent girl will die. For what?”

  Nacho shook his head. “I wish I knew. One thing for certain, though. Someone hates the old man enough to drown his granddaughter.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because if we do not deliver the money as promised, they will not only kill the girl in this grisly manner, they will video it and send the footage to El Jefe. That is their threat.”

  “Bastards!” I spat, too loudly, causing everyone within hearing distance to talk at once.

  Martinez, who had little to say during this entire mess, called for silence. “Look, folks, we are only a day away from having this girl back, so we need to calm down. And, I might add,” he looked at me, “calling the kidnappers names when they might be listening ain’t the best idea.”

  “Yes,” Nacho said, “please remember that.”

  Several of us mumbled choice names for the kidnappers under our breath, but Martinez had a point and I, for one, planned to use the possibility we might be heard to full advantage. “Marty’s right. Let’s all settle down and get this done. Nacho, what do they want me to do? Where and when?”

  “You are to leave here at three tomorrow afternoon, rendezvous after dark at a given location, give them the money, and they’ll turn over the girl.”

  “Sounds good to me. What are we going to do for the next few hours? Twiddle our thumbs in silence?” I was already trying to figure out how to contact Jenks, but the phone was out. Text? Could it be intercepted? Were they that sophisticated?

  “No, Fabio is going to give you driving lessons.”

  “Huh?”

  “You are to take Odyssey Forty to sea, alone, for the meet.”

  “Whoa! I can drive my boat, but this thing?” I waved my arm toward OXL’s flying bridge. The controls rivaled those of a Boeing 747. “You weren’t on board when we arrived here in Cannes. It took the entire crew of ten to park this baby, and that didn’t even include dock personnel handling some of the lines. I can’t just start this bucket up and take off.”

  “The kidnappers are aware of that. They will allow crew to stay aboard until we reach open water, then we are to return to shore, and you will cruise to a set latitude and longitude and simply wait for them.”

  “That I can handle,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Uh, what’s the weather report for the next twenty-four?”

  “Just like today. Perfect conditions,” Fabio answered. “And with your sea knowledge and boatmanship skills, teaching you what you require to know about operating Odyssey Forty will be easy. You will soon see that driving this ship is not so different from your own yate. You are an excellent boat handler.”

  I was pleased with his assessment. “And then you’ll come out and bring us back into port?”

  “Yes. Once Juanita is safely aboard, you only have to wait at least an hour before leaving the pickup area, then call us in for the return trip into port.”

  “Great. Sounds like a piece of gâteau.”

  “I am certain it will be. And, Hetta, this time, would you be so kind as not to sink a boat I am responsible for?”

  Jeez, did he have to add that?

  Some people are so touchy.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I rushed to Jan’s cabin after the meeting ended, anxious to make up. I wanted to assure her all would be well, apologize for pissing her off, and fill her in on the details for the drop. Her cabin was empty and her suitcases gone. No computer, no nothing. Dang, that gal is fast when she’s on a tear.

  Racing onto the deck, I tried to catch sight of her, but no luck. I was out of breath and in tears when I returned to the sky lounge. Everyone was still there, quietly discussing our situation.
“Jan’s gone! She’s left the ship. And I can’t even contact her. It’s unbelievable she’s so upset. Good grief, we’ve been through much worse, and she’s never flat walked out on me like this.”

  Nacho looked like he’d been sucker-punched. “¡Madre de Dios! What if the kidnappers think Jan heard their terms before she left? What will happen now?”

  Martinez held up his hands in an everyone-just-calm-down motion. “Nothing. If they can hear us, they know she left before Nacho told us what comes next. And if they can’t? They won’t even know she’s gone.”

  He was right. I wiped away tears and said so, adding, “I guess Jan finally reached her limit, and I can’t really blame her. We’ve always been a team, through thick and thin, and me leaving her out like this? She just snapped. I’ll find her when all is said and done, but right now we have to concentrate on me being able to maneuver this vessel once the rest of the crew leaves for shore.”

  Fabio smiled. “It will not be a problem. Let us go to the bridge and I will give you a brief rundown now, then tomorrow our lessons start in earnest. We captains make the job seem much more difficult than it really is to protect our high-paying salaries. And, most important of all, it is not my boat.”

  Everyone laughed at his joke, but I knew he was serious. When he was helping me and Jan take my boat to Mexico from San Francisco, whenever I suggested something that wasn’t considered in the realm of boating safety, his pat answer was, “No problemo. It is you boat.”

  Fabio and I went to the bridge and spent two hours going over the controls. Overloaded with information and operational details to remember, I retired to my quarters. Still wired, I put on my jammies and started a WHAT IF list.

  As in, what if the kidnappers decided a paltry three million bucks was aiming too low, and decided to hold Odyssey Forty, me, the money, and Juanita, to raise the stakes? Unfortunately, I knew the answer to that WHAT IF: you’re plumb screwed, Hetta Coffey.

  After Jan and I made the plagiaristic connection to the Getty ransom note, we’d checked out other famous demand letters, and one stood out from the JonBenet Ramsey case. The alleged kidnapper demanded one hundred eighteen thousand dollars for return of the little beauty princess, and the odd amount raised many an investigator’s suspicions. The fact that it was the exact amount of the little girl’s father’s Christmas bonus fairly screamed insider info.

  Was it possible Juanita’s grandfather was known to keep that amount of ready cash in a safe?

  Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well. I kept waking up and checking my email for an answer from Jenks to the one I sent, despite the warning not to. He needed to know Jan had flown the coop, and I wanted to know if he was aware I was about to take the prince’s yacht to sea, all by myself.

  I finally gave up trying to sleep at five a.m. and was rewarded with a waiting email from an unknown source, which I opened anyway. This was not the time to worry about hackers, and besides, the email was made to look like something from Booking.com or some other travel site.

  Subject: Rate your recent experience in Cannes.

  Please visit our Facebook page and give us your thoughts.

  There was a link, which I followed, joined, and immediately received a personal message: Hi, beautiful!

  Normally this kind of thing would alert me to a troll, and I would immediately report the poster to the FB spam police, but again, this was no time for caution. Certain the Facebook page was a direct link to Jenks, I pm’d him back, filling him in on the entire plan as I knew it, and telling him I loved him.

  I got an immediate reply: I love you back, and just know I am so proud of you. Go get ‘em, Red.

  My reply was met with a notice that Facebook page no longer existed, and sure enough, when I searched for it, it was gone, but I was elated. Just knowing Jenks had my back boosted my confidence by a thousand percent, and I girded my ample loins to meet the enemy.

  To steal and paraphrase Commodore Perry’s famous message: I will meet the enemy and make them ours.

  Or something like that.

  In anticipation of the evening’s rescue mission, everyone packed up to abandon ship. Rhonda, as soon as she had her cabin cleared, took care of mine and Po Thang’s stuff, as well.

  Nacho told me he’d called and booked a suite in Tante Monique’s hotel for the crew, using my name as a reference. Surprisingly enough, that landed him a view of the harbor, and a balcony where they planned to set up a telescope he’d lifted from the observation tower on Odyssey Forty.

  “Wait a minute. I thought you said we couldn’t use the phone,” I said, when he told me where the crew would be hanging out while I bobbed around offshore.

  “Not for anything they could use against us. If I was overheard booking a hotel room, no harm. We must go somewhere, as standing around on the docks would be sure to draw attention.” He had a good point. The crew was allowed to stay aboard Odyssey until she left the harbor entrance, a plan designed, I’m sure, not to raise questions about them all leaving like rats in full view of spectators.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Are you all set?”

  I lied and said I was. After all, Fabio and I were done with boat operating lessons, and we’d entered waypoints into the GPS system for my voyage away from, and back to, the harbor entrance, as well as the coordinates for the rendezvous. Which, to my dismay were not just offshore, as I expected, but fifteen miles out, in international water. This was worrisome, but there was nothing I could do about it. I felt calmer than I probably should have.

  The money, when it arrived, was packaged very much like what we jokingly refer to back in Mexico as square grouper: plastic-wrapped packages of cocaine and marijuana that float on the tide after being dropped by mother ships and airplanes into the Sea of Cortez. I had seen many like them on crossings, and always gave them a wide berth.

  Seeing three million all wrapped up and ready to go awakened the avariciousness that lurks in my soul. I found a large nautical chart of the area, plotting distances. Gee, I could just take the ship and the money, spend several hours at full speed heading north or south, jump into a dinghy, and head for shore. Call a cab, and disappear. With that much money I could—

  “Don’t even think about it, Hetta,” Nacho warned, breaking into my reverie.

  Jeez, that man knows me all too well.

  The day dragged by, all of us on edge as we awaited our three o’clock departure. Fabio had filed a float plan with the marina, telling them we were going out to party for the night and would be back in the next day. Evidently this wasn’t all that unusual in Cannes, and I’m sure there was a wink, wink, exchange between him and the authorities.

  I wondered if that was exactly how Juanita disappeared in the first place, but we were way past investigating that particular scenario. It was now or never. Given a choice, I would have voted for never.

  Grandpa’s plane was on standby at the airport, limos were lined up at the hotel, and Nacho wanted everyone in the air as soon as possible. I had opted out on the flight, deciding to take Air France’s offer in hopes of first locating Jan, and maybe even spending a few days with Jenks when this whole mess was over.

  Rhonda decided to stay, as well. We were convinced that whoever took Juanita was somehow connected to Russia, and were not worried about staying in France for a few days. No one had an axe to grind with two middle-aged American broads, right?

  Before we left the dock, Rhonda took Po Thang to the hotel. The last thing I wanted was to have him ride in a dingy, albeit a very large one, back to shore with the crew.

  “Rhonda, you know what to do,” I whispered. “Take all our stuff to the hotel, rent us a good-sized car, and go here.” I gave her Jean Luc’s address in Cannes, and his cell phone number. “Call Jean Luc as soon as you get to the hotel, and if he’s already gone back to Paris, ask him for the combination to the gate. Just stay there until I get back. If he asks questions, tell him I’ll fill him in as soon as I can.”

  “Isn�
��t he going to want to know where you are?”

  “Probably, but stall him. We don’t want any more people involved in this caper, which should be a done deal by dawn, okay?”

  “I’m worried about you all by yourself out there, what if—”

  “Trust me, kiddo. I’ll be fine. I have a secret weapon.”

  “Really? What?”

  “Duh, it’s a secret.”

  She giggled in spite of her worry.

  I didn’t tell her that my secret weapon was abject stupidity.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Po Thang had plastered himself to my side all day, becoming increasingly agitated with the flurry of preparations for my evening of derring-do.

  Strangers came and went, picking up bags left by crew on the dock. The whole scene was a little weird; still fearing we had listeners and watchers, no one spoke a word to the people who took our luggage and carried it to various vehicles.

  My dog knew something was up, and evidently suspected he was going to be left out of it. No amount of treats or soothing talk calmed him down. He was as jumpy as the rest of the crew.

  Rhonda had gathered our stuff and piled it on the dock, but when it came time for her to take Po Thang ashore, he balked and stubbornly refused to budge. Rolling onto his back, he went into his dead dog, dead weight mode, and short of asking a couple of crewmembers to pick him up and carry him off, I took over from Rhonda.

  I tried more special treats, kind words, gruff tones, anything I’d found effective in the past, but he adamantly resisted to cooperate.

  Finally losing patience, I managed to strap on his full harness by rolling him back and forth until I had him firmly buckled in. Enlisting Cholo in the battle, we used brute force to literally drag him along the deck, and push and pull him onto the swim platform, and finally onto the quay. The minute we got him onto land, I tied him to a light pole and collapsed next to his still prone body. This got him to stand, but only the fact that he was strapped into his full harness kept him from bolting. Thrashing and setting up an unearthly howl reminiscent of his wolf ancestors, he caught the attention of everyone within hearing distance.