Loitering With Intent

by Stuart Woods

  She did, and he walked to the rear of the car, still looking around, and got his duffel with its equipment inside. He waved for her to follow him. Gigi got out of the car and padded down the bridge to the pontoon. “There’s the boat,” she said, pointing to the end of the fl oat. It was a black Boston Whaler, and the name on the side registered. Larry was already climbing in. He opened the small locker under the steering wheel and came out with a key attached to a plastic float. “Looks like we’re in business,” he said.

  “And not a moment too soon,” Gigi replied, checking the sunset and untying the mooring lines. She stepped into the boat, inserted the key into the ignition lock and turned it. The fi fty-horsepower outboard purred to life.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Larry said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

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  STON E A N D D IN O stood with Evan beside the rental car, a few blocks from the restaurant.

  “It’s seven twenty-fi ve,” Dino said. “You’d better get going. Park as close to the restaurant as you can.”

  “Have you got the money?” Stone asked.

  “I have.”

  “Don’t give it to him until he confirms the hit,” Stone said, “and make him say it out loud, for the recorder. My guess is, he’ll leave the second he gets the money, and then he’s the state police’s problem.”

  “Where are they?” Evan asked.

  “Already in and around the restaurant for some time, I should think,” Stone replied. “Don’t look for them in the restaurant; they’ll spot you, don’t worry. And when Manny gets up and leaves, don’t try to stop him or follow him.”

  “Got it,” Evan said.

  “You’ve been pretty cool through this so far,” Dino said to him.

  “Now is not the time to get nervous. A little, maybe, that would be normal, but not much.”

  “I’m not excessively nervous,” Evan said.

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  “Then get going.”

  Stone opened the car door for him. “Just stay at the restaurant until it’s all over,” he said. “We’ll come fi nd you.”

  Evan got into the car and drove away.

  “You think this is going to work?” Dino asked.

  “Nothing we can do about it,” Stone replied. “It’s in the hands of other people now.”

  AS TOM M Y F O LL O W E D Mike up the fifty yards of catwalk from the dock, he saw a man sitting on the front porch, rocking and sipping a drink.

  “We got company?” Tommy asked.

  “We’ve got two deputies with rifles in the house, but have a look.”

  They approached the porch, and they were ten yards away before Tommy got it. “It’s a dummy,” he said.

  “Made it myself,” Mike said.

  It was wearing Mike’s clothes, with a fl oppy fishing hat. Tommy could see a string tied to the rocker and another that held the dummy’s left hand in place, holding a glass. When the string was pulled, the glass went to the dummy’s lips. A deputy was standing inside in the living room, pulling the strings.

  “That’s sweet work, Mike,” Tommy said, looking at his watch.

  “But we’d better get off the porch; it’s nearly dark.”

  G IGI P U T the outboard in gear, a light suddenly came on AS behind them. Larry spun around, alarmed, then he took a deep breath and let it out. “Spotlight on the shed,” he said. “Comes on automatically when it gets dark enough.”

  “That’ll help us find our way back,” Gigi said, pushing the throttle a bit forward and starting down the creek toward the waterway. 2 7 3

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  “Switch off your running lights,” Larry said, “and keep it at idle, so we make as little noise as possible.”

  Gigi did so. “Larry, what is this thing you have about boats?”

  “I don’t have a thing about boats. I like riding in them; I enjoyed the trip to Key Largo from Key West. I just don’t have any experience operating them. I don’t like the wind and tide doing things to them, either. I feel like I’m not in control.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’ve got a buoy dead ahead,” Larry said, switching on a small but very powerful fl ashlight.

  “I see it,” Gigi said. “It just marks the creek.”

  “Seems like there ought to be a light on it,” Larry said.

  “There is,” Gigi said. As they passed the buoy it came on, fl ashing green.

  “Let’s get out into the middle of the waterway until we see the dock,” Larry said. “And keep a lookout for other boats.”

  “Okay.” Gigi steered for the center, keeping the motor at idle. The boat steered sluggishly going so slowly, but it was manageable. Larry turned his flashlight to his duffel. He held the light in his teeth as he quickly assembled his rifle and screwed on the silencer and telescopic sight.

  “Will the guy be able to see any muzzle flash?” Gigi asked.

  “No, the silencer is also a suppressor. You’ll hear a ffft noise, and he won’t even hear that. He’ll never know what hit him.”

  “I see a light up ahead,” she said. “It seems to be on shore, not on a dock.”

  They were both whispering now, aware of how voices carried over water. “I can see a porch,” Larry said. “Go past the house and upstream a hundred yards or so, then make a U-turn and go south, close to the dock.”

  Larry took a small pair of binoculars from his pocket. “I have the porch,” he said. “The porch light isn’t on; the light is coming from inside.”

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  “Can you see anybody?”

  “I see something, but …” They were fifty yards from the dock now. “I have a man in a rocking chair.”

  “That’s gotta be our guy,” she said.

  Larry pressed a magazine into the rifle and worked the bolt action slowly to make as little noise as possible. “Is this as slow as you can go?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered, “but we’ve got a little tide against us. When you’re ready, I can take it out of gear and we’ll slow nearly to a stop.”

  Larry sat cross-legged in the bottom of the boat, looking through the telescopic sight. “He’s got a drink in his hand,” he said. “Get ready to stop.”

  Gigi steered the boat to a point three feet from the dock. As they came abreast of the pontoon, Larry said, “Stop.”

  Gigi pulled the gear lever to neutral, and the boat slowed immediately. “I won’t be able to steer,” she said.

  “Don’t worry,” Larry said, squeezing off a round. 275

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  EVA N FO U N D A parking space a couple of doors from the Steak Shack and parked. He got out of the car, took his briefcase and began walking up the sidewalk. To his surprise, someone fell in beside him.

  “Evening,” Manny White said.

  “You startled me,” Evan said. “I thought you’d be inside.”

  “I’ve already been inside,” Manny said, “checking out the place, and I wanted to be sure nobody’s following you.”

  “Who would follow me?” Evan said. “Nobody knows I’m here but you.”

  “Yeah, sure, kid. Get the door, will you?”

  Evan opened the door and held it, but Manny stood, turning slowly, having a last look at the street.

  “You first,” Manny said.

  Evan went into the restaurant, followed by Manny, and they were immediately met by a maître d’.

  “Good evening, Mr. White,” the man said smoothly.

  “Good evening, Marty,” Manny replied. “This is my friend Joe; he’s going to be a good customer, so treat him right.”

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  “Of course, Mr. White. How do you do, Joe?”

  “Just fine, thanks,” Evan said. “Nice place you have here.”

  “Mr. White, your regular booth is ready, but if you wish to have a drink at t
he bar first …”

  “No, thanks, Marty,” Manny said. “We’ll sit down now.”

  They were shown to the booth, and Manny took the seat facing the door.

  Evan noticed him scanning the faces of the other diners. “See anybody you know?”

  “A couple of people,” Manny said. “I’m more interested in who I don’t know.”

  “You’re a careful man, Manny,” Evan said. “I like that; it means we’re less likely to have problems tonight.”

  “You have the money?” Manny asked.

  Evan patted the briefcase on the seat beside him. “Right here. It’s yours as soon as we get that phone call.”

  A pretty waitress approached. “Hi, Mr. White, what can I get for you and your guest?”

  “Scotch,” Manny said.

  “Same here.”

  “Two Chivas Regals coming up,” she said, then left. Evan noticed that Manny was sweating. “Do we have any problems, Manny? Is everything all right?”

  Manny mopped his face with his napkin. “Don’t worry, I have good people on this,” he said.

  “People? More than one?”

  “One to handle the boat, one to shoot,” Manny said.

  “Oh, okay.” Evan looked out a side window. “It’s almost dark,” he said.

  “Dark is good,” Manny said as their drinks arrived. TOM M Y SCU L L EY S AT on Mike Levy’s living room fl oor, with Mike and two deputy sheriffs on the floor nearby. One deputy 2 7 7

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  was pulling a string in a rhythmic fashion, controlling the rocker. The other occasionally pulled the other string, controlling the drinking hand of the dummy.

  “So, Mike, how you been?” Tommy asked.

  “Not bad. I still miss Ruth, but I’ve been seeing somebody.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I hear a boat,” one of the deputies said. “Going slow.”

  Everybody got very quiet.

  “Listen to me,” Tommy said softly. “If there’s shooting, stay on the floor; we don’t want the shooter to see anybody inside.”

  “Aren’t we to fire back?” a deputy asked.

  “Absolutely not,” Tommy replied. “We want the guy alive, and your boss and a bunch of deputies will be waiting for him at the marina.”

  As if to confirm this, a radio came alive. “Eddie, you there?”

  A deputy picked up the handheld. “We’re in place,” he said.

  “We’re ready at the marina. No shooting back, you hear?”

  “Yes, sheriff.” He set down the radio and as he did, there was the sound of shattering glass, and a broken pane spattered the room with shards.

  “I didn’t hear a shot,” Mike said.

  “And you won’t,” Tommy said.

  From outside, they heard an engine rev, then quickly the sound faded as the boat moved away.

  Tommy stood up. “We’re okay,” he said, looking at the picture window, which was spattered with what seemed to be gore. “Jesus, Mike, what’s all that stuff?”

  “Sponge cake and ketchup,” Mike replied. “It was all I had.”

  They got to their feet and went outside to inspect the dead dummy.

  “Got me right through the forehead,” Mike said. The motorboat could no longer be heard.

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  GI G I T H R O T T LED B AC K as they approached the green fl ashing buoy at the mouth of the creek leading to the marina. “Are you happy with your shot?” she asked.

  Larry was sitting on the seat beside her, disassembling his rifl e.

  “Don’t worry, his brains are spattered all over the front of the house,”

  he said.

  MANN Y AND E VA N fi nished their drinks and Manny ordered two more.

  “It’s getting kind of late, isn’t it?” Evan said.

  “I trust my people,” Manny replied. “Don’t sweat it.”

  “Should we order some dinner?” Evan asked.

  “You can, if you like,” Manny replied. “I’m not going to be here that long.”

  GI G I D R O V E SLO W LY past the buoy and into the creek.

  “Throttle back to idle,” Larry said.

  Gigi did so, and the boat was barely making headway against the current from the creek. They made another fifty yards, and Gigi could see the pontoon and the other boats in the dim light. Larry reached over and switched off the ignition.

  “Why did you do that?” Gigi asked.

  “The light on the shed is off,” Larry said. As he spoke, they both saw the beam of a flashlight on the trees above the pontoon, then it went off. They were now drifting backward with the current, and the boat began to turn sideways.

  “Something’s wrong,” Larry said. “Just let the boat go where it wants to.”

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  The boat drifted toward the south shore of the creek and brushed against some mangrove. Larry reached overboard, grabbed at the mangrove and propelled the boat downstream. From behind them they heard an unintelligible shout and an equally unintelligible reply, then the engine of a boat started.

  “Get us out of here!” Larry hissed. “Go north.”

  “Back past the house?”

  “They won’t be expecting us there.”

  Gigi started the engine and eased the throttle forward. Larry pushed her hand forward. “Don’t worry about the noise; they won’t be able to hear it over their own engine. We’re only a few miles from Stuart; head for there, as fast as you can.”

  Gigi swung the boat north as they passed the buoy and aimed for the opposite shore. “You’re awfully jumpy, Larry,” she said. Larry looked over his shoulder and saw the running lights of a boat leaving the creek, then another and another. “We’re being pursued,” he said. “Make it wide open now.”

  He took a small black box from his pocket, extended a six-inch antenna and pressed a button.

  There was an explosion from behind them, and Gigi looked back in time to see a large fi reball rising. She moved the throttle all the way open. The boat leapt forward, its big outboard pushing the small hull. “What was that?” she yelled.

  “Our rental car; a little something in the gas tank.” Larry looked back and watched the boats hesitate as they came out of the creek, no doubt debating which way to go. “Good thing our boat is black,”

  he said.

  “I didn’t see anything at that marina that could outrun us,” Gigi said, peering through the darkness ahead, looking for other boats. They raced past the small house on the other side of the waterway, and Larry saw people standing on the dock. “This was a setup,” he said. “They were laying for us.”

  “Then why is nobody shooting at us?” Gigi asked. 2 8 0

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  “Because they want us— me—alive,” Larry replied, looking at the chart in his hand. “There’s a flashing buoy where we turn left for Stuart. When we get there, stick with me; they’re not looking for a couple.”

  Gigi got out her cell phone and pressed a speed-dial button. 2 81

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  MANN Y FE L T HI S cell phone vibrate, and he pressed a button on his Bluetooth earpiece. “Yes?” he said.

  “It’s Gigi,” she shouted over the whine of the outboard motor. “It was a setup; we’re running for Stuart Harbor, and we’ll make our way home from there.”

  “I understand.” Manny hung up, reached into his inside coat pocket, extracted a sheet of paper and handed it to Evan. Evan unfolded the sheet and read: “There’s a gun on you, so don’t say a word or do anything I don’t tell you. The job is done. Open your briefcase on the seat beside you, and hand me the money under the table. Don’t be obvious. Then leave the briefcase there, get up and go to the men’s room, down the hall ahead of you, to your right. Stay there for five minutes, then do anything you like. Nod to tell me you understand.”

  Evan nodded, opened the briefcase and handed over the envelope
with the money. Manny checked it without lowering his head, then put the sheet of paper back into his pocket and nodded. Evan got up, and went to the men’s room.

  As soon as he left, Manny slid out of the booth, walked around 2 8 2

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  the screen behind him, opened the back door to an alley and got into a waiting car, driven by his secretary. “Go,” he said. She drove fast down the alley, made a right, then a left, and stopped.

  “Go straight home; you’ve been there all evening. There’ll be people at the offi ce tomorrow. Play dumb, and hang on to the box I gave you.” He took a bundle of cash from the envelope and handed her the rest. “Put this in the box and seal it; I’ll call you in a couple of days on your cell with instructions on where to send it. See you later,” Manny said. He got out of the car and into a dark blue sedan, not his own. Five minutes later he was off the island, headed for Miami International Airport and a flight to Mexico, where he owned a house.

  HAL F A B L O C K from the Steak Shack, Stone and Dino watched as two carloads of men poured onto the sidewalk and ran inside the restaurant.

  “That’s it for Manny,” Dino said.

  Stone’s cell phone buzzed, and he opened it. “Yeah?”

  “It’s Evan. Manny got the call, I gave him the money and he sent me to the men’s room. What’s going on?”

  “The state cops are all over him,” Stone said. “We’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up. “Let’s go,” he said to Dino. They arrived inside the restaurant to see a lot of men standing around, talking on cell phones.

  “Look for a gray Toyota,” one of them within earshot was saying.

  “Woman driver.”

  Stone went over to the booth where Evan was talking with a man in a suit. “What happened?” he asked. “Where’s Manny?”

  Evan gave him a big shrug. “He handed me a note with instructions, I gave him the money and went to the men’s room. When I came back he was gone. The note said the job was done.”

  “Shit,” Stone said.

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  GI G I M O TO R E D I N TO Stuart Harbor faster than the law allowed.

  “Head for the Pirate’s Cove Hotel Marina,” Larry said, pointing at a sign. “Pull up next to a ladder.”