Havana Hustle (Coastal Fury Book 6)

by Matt Lincoln

  We weren’t near any of the crossings, and the traffic was steady. I gave Holm a look. He’d seen it, too. Nobody on the far side of the highway was after the kid.

  “There’s way to cross up that way,” Philippe said in a casual tone. “If you want to go after a petty thief, you can, but they do not make it easy.”

  I took off at a sprint with Holm at my side, and I was grateful for the tired pair of sneakers I’d brought from home. Holm and I couldn’t match the skateboarder’s speed, of course, but I figured he’d want to get to the side streets and alleys on the city side of the highway. A crossing appeared ahead like Philippe had told us.

  “He’s going up there,” I yelled to Holm and pointed.

  As if on cue, the skateboarder cut left and made his way to our side of the Malecón. Tourists stared at Holm and me, the crazy, running white guys, and didn’t notice the thief ditch the skateboard and slip the camera strap around his neck.

  I slowed up as we got near, and Holm grunted. The kid was so intent on his act as he walked away from where we were that he didn’t appear to see us tailing him.

  “If we nail him now, people are going to think we’re bullying a local kid,” he said.

  “True that.” I turned back to where we’d left Yoani and found Philippe mere yards behind us. “What’s the play?”

  “I got him,” he said. “I’ve dealt with this kid before. You can come or let me handle it.”

  I raised a brow and walked after Philippe. Yoani caught up to me in a breathless rush as we stalked the camera thief.

  “I waved at the photographer,” she reported. “He’s headed for us. I’ll stay here.”

  Leaving her alone rankled, but I knew she was a big girl who knew what she was doing. Holm, Philippe, and I trailed the kid only half a block before he realized we were onto him. He sneered in my direction, but when he saw Philippe, his eyes widened, and he tore down the block.

  We hustled past startled people as the kid made good time. Unlucky for him, Holm and I were both conditioned to run down assholes far worse than him. We reached him before Philippe and cornered him in an alley behind a restaurant.

  “Here, take it back!” The kid yelled in Spanish. He yanked the strap over his head and threw the camera at Holm. “I’m sorry, please let me go. I won’t do it again, not here.”

  His wide eyes went wider, which I hadn’t thought possible, when Philippe ran up a second later. The young man flinched and half-turned away.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  “You better be,” Philippe barked. “Take this back and apologize to the man you took it from. Do that, and we’ll let you go.” At least, that’s what I think he said. My Spanish wasn’t the greatest back then.

  The kid’s cheeks flamed deep red, and he looked at the ground as he began to walk. Holm and I walked on either side of him, and Philippe trailed us. By the time we returned to Yoani and the photographer, the kid had the camera in his hands… and my partner and I ready to catch him if he broke away.

  “I’m sorry, señor,” the kid told the photographer. “Please forgive me. I will not bother you again.”

  “I should have you arrested,” the older man snapped. He inspected his camera and then glared at the boy. “Go. I do not want to see you again.”

  The kid dared a look at Philippe and then ran off into a growing late-afternoon crowd. I studied the guard until he met my eye. There was something about him, and I wondered if he was involved in some sort of youth program.

  “We have another two hours,” I told Yoani. “What do you want to do?”

  She frowned. “We will bring food to your friend when he arrives. How about a snack and a drink?”

  “I can deal with that.” Holm patted his belly. “Tally ho!”

  The quaint bar that Yoani chose was close to the Malecón, and I heard waves crashing against the seawall. We also heard the rush hour impatience that gripped the highway. In many ways, the area reminded me of home. As we enjoyed the downtime with each other, I thought about the bustle around the marina where I lived.

  One of life’s constants, I decided, was that people everywhere were in a rush. Havana wasn’t as much about hustle as other places I’d visited, but all in all, there were ways in which it wasn’t that much different from home.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Are you sure?”

  Philippe’s question hung in the air as Yoani regarded me with a critical eye. It was time to pick Birn up from the airport, but there wasn’t enough room even in the Emgrand for the tank of a man. He was also a good friend and teammate in our motley crew of Miami special agents.

  “We’ll be fine,” Yoani told Philippe. “Special Agent Marston has proven his merit. The money will be safe between him and Special Agent Birn. It’s better that I go as the official liaison.”

  “We can get a second car,” Holm suggested. “That way, we’re all together, and you don’t need to worry about leaving any of us unguarded.”

  I gestured toward the other suite where Clyde was now reading the second book since he arrived. We hadn’t exactly come up with work for the lab tech so far. The Cuban government whisked the body away from the intruder who attacked the house the night before. Whether or not they’d have samples for Clyde to process remained to be seen, so he had nothing more pressing than a text about microbial deterioration over something or another. Hell, I always lost track.

  “It’s not like that one is going anywhere,” I said of Clyde. “He’s engrossed in his book, and he’s not one to go galavanting around.”

  “I heard that,” Clyde called out.

  “Well, you aren’t,” I called back.

  “True enough.” He returned to his reading, which he’d never looked up from.

  “It is fine, Philippe,” Yoani insisted. “We don’t need another car to pick someone up from the airport.”

  Philippe ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair and scowled. Rather than argue it further, he plopped onto one of the beds in the suite and switched the television on. I could have sworn he gave me a blistering side-eye, but it was so quick, I couldn’t be sure.

  “We’ll be back before you know it,” I told everyone.

  Yoani handed me the keys to the Emgrand on the way out. Although I hadn’t pushed the issue myself, I was happy to spend at least a little time alone with her. Yoani fascinated me, especially with how she was firm and confident except for when we were around González. Then, there was Philippe and what he knew about her life, her mother. The question was whether she’d open up. I wasn’t interested in interrogating her for the government. I was interested in her as a person. Thing was, I didn’t know where to start as we walked out to the Emgrand. Maybe small chat…

  “You live in Miami?”

  Apparently, Yoani had the same idea about starting with small talk.

  “I do. Have since I was a kid.” We got into the vehicle, and I pulled out of the lot in the direction of the airport. “How about you? I take it you were born in Havana.”

  “Yes.” From the corner of my eye, I saw her give me a long look. “You want to hear about how I know Philippe, don’t you?”

  “I want to know whatever you feel like telling me.” I glanced over at her and then back to the road. “It would be nice to get to know you a bit since we’re stuck together during this investigation.”

  “Are we ‘stuck’ together?” she asked. “This has already been one of my favorite postings. Most of the time, I am truly stuck by showing foreign businessmen around Havana and the countryside in the north here. It’s not always pleasant.”

  Her voice caught at the end, and she looked away. A small fire burned in my chest. She was a beautiful woman who would seem exotic to visiting men. It was no wonder her skills as a liaison were in demand.

  “I can’t imagine,” I said in a soft tone. “I promise that nobody from my office would… would hurt you.”

  A tremulous smile graced her lips. “I believe you. Thankfully, no one has h
urt me, but some men think it’s okay to grab women without asking.”

  “It’s not,” I growled. “I’m sorry you’ve had those experiences.”

  She waved it off. “They weren’t you. You aren’t like they were at all.” She was silent for a moment, and I didn’t know what to say. She brightened. “Let’s pick up a treat for everyone.”

  We were a third of the way to the airport, and I frowned.

  “I don’t want to be late to pick up Lamarr,” I told her. “Can we do it quickly?”

  Her grin did something to my gut, and I had to focus on the road before I drove onto the shoulder.

  “My favorite bakery is two streets ahead.” She looked up and sighed. “I haven’t had their tres leches in ages.”

  “Ooh, that’s good stuff.” I thought to the time Muñoz brought in a homemade tres leches cake that melted in my mouth. “I am so on it.”

  I followed her directions to a tiny storefront with a single window. My mouth watered as we walked up. The aromas of fresh bread and several kinds of pastries teased at passersby. I made the mistake of looking in the window and felt like a kid. Tarts, cakes, rolls, cupcakes, churros, and a few things I didn’t recognize made my stomach rumble. Loudly.

  “Wait until we get inside,” Yoani said with a laugh. “It gets better. Their café con leche? The best.”

  There were three tres leche cakes in a cooler. One had strawberries nestled into whipped cream. Another had the strawberries but with a chocolate drizzle in delightful zig-zags. The third was a caramel tres leches cake. They all looked fantastic.

  “I can’t choose.” Yoani sighed. “They’re all muy bueno.”

  The baker at the counter chuckled. “I put heart in them,” he said in heavily accented English.

  “I’ll take all three,” I told him. “Two café con leches to go, as well.”

  “Si, señor. Thank you very much.”

  Yoani raised her brows. “You don’t have to do that. I can pay.”

  “I need to make sure my crew is properly fed.” I deadpanned. “We exist on sugar and caffeine.”

  Her laugh broke my pseudo-serious facade. The baker’s grin faded a little as he watched our interaction. He boxed the cakes and tallied the bill. Once I paid in the tourist pesos, Yoani went to the door and held it for me.

  “Señor, a moment,” the baker said in a low voice.

  “Sure.” I clicked the unlock button on the Emgrand’s fob, and Yoani went on out to put the coffees into the vehicle. “What can I do for you?”

  “I see your look,” he said. “Do not break her heart, por favor.”

  “We’re working.” I tried to assure him with a smile, but the worry lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. “I won’t do anything to hurt her.”

  He shook his head as Yoani returned to hold the door. His glare seemed to bore into me, to see a spark that I had barely acknowledged myself.

  “This is what they all say,” he whispered. “Buenos dias, señor.”

  When we got back on the road, Yoani looked in the rearview mirror and then considered the café con leche in her hands.

  “What did Señor Peña want?” she asked.

  “He’s looking out for you. I got the feeling that he’s seen a few women get hurt by visiting foreigners.”

  “Ah.” She sipped at her drink. “Yes. We talk about it sometimes. I’ve gone to his bakery for years, and he tells me about this or that woman who was promised the sky and ended up alone, sometimes with a baby.”

  “I’ve learned not to make life promises,” I said. “My life is too chaotic to do that. Some people can swing it, but it seems like too many situations come out of left field for me to ask someone to roll with it.”

  To my surprise, she nodded. “I would not call my life chaotic, at least not most of the time, but I do get assignments that throw my routine out of sorts.”

  “What’s your usual day look like?”

  She cast a sharp look at me. “How do you mean?” Her cautious tone had a sharp edge.

  “I don’t mean anything.” I glanced at her and offered a small smile. “No offense, but if I were spying, your daily schedule wouldn’t be on my list of things to ask. I’m honestly curious about what your life is like.” I changed lanes and passed a lumbering box truck that looked ready to fall apart. “Philippe mentioned your mother. Do you spend much time with her?”

  “We share an apartment.” Yoani sank back into her seat. “She is… she’s ill. When I’m away, my cousin stays with her.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I hadn’t given a moment of thought to how the situation could have interrupted her life. Sometimes I needed the reminder that the people I worked with during cases had their own realities outside of my interactions with them.

  “Life isn’t meant to be fair,” Yoani said. “It is a series of challenges, and you do your best to navigate them for the best outcome.” Her sad smile was a punch to the gut. “Yes, my mother will die from this, but I have been fortunate to have a good relationship with her. After…” She cleared her throat. “When she is gone, I will use the experience to help other people.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes. There are groups who visit the sick, and I will have time to volunteer.”

  She sniffed a little and then looked out the window to where a jet was on approach to the airport. The late-day sun reflected off the plane’s side to make it look like a shooting star. I wondered if anyone ever wished on those reflections. If I could, I’d wish for something to ease Yoani’s sadness. It reminded me of my own sadness some years back.

  “Remember to take your time,” I told her in a low voice. “I was close with my grandfather. Even though I knew it was coming, it was still a shock to the system.”

  I didn’t feel the need to add how other events in my life had led to periods of time when I could have used recovery time but didn’t get those chances. That was part of the life I chose. That was not the life Yoani had asked to be given.

  “The people in these programs have said the same.” She laid a warm hand on my forearm. “Thank you for understanding.”

  We parked and went into the terminal to meet Birn.

  CHAPTER 22

  The whipped cream was only a little droopy by the time we got the cakes, Birn, and the suitcase full of money back to the hotel. It turned out that Diane had pulled a few strings to get Birn through the hoops and red tape.

  “They put me on the regular flight so I wouldn’t stand out,” Birn told us between bites of tres leches. “My name for the trip is Charlie Sampson, and I’m supposedly Ted Sutton’s head of security.”

  “You brought money from the office to me.” I grinned and held my palms out and up. “That sounds like assistance to me.”

  “Assistance that I don’t get paid enough to provide.” Birn’s hearty laugh was a welcome sound. “The wife is annoyed because this was supposed to be date night.”

  “Aw, man.” Holm patted Birn’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way to make it up to you two.”

  “Let me borrow your plane, Marston,” Birn said with a grin. “I’ll take her somewhere special, out of cell phone range.”

  I laughed. “We’ll talk when this case is over.”

  “Speaking of talk, give the director a call,” Birn said. “She wanted to know that I didn’t fall off the map.”

  With that much money, I didn’t blame her. Of all people, though, Birn was one of the most solid guys I knew. I gave him a light punch in the arm and then dialed Diane.

  “Ramsey,” she answered after one ring.

  “It’s me. Birn’s here, safe and sound. How’re things there?”

  “Mike is home, and we’re keeping an eye that he stays out of trouble.” With her barely audible sigh, I pictured her rubbing the bridge of her nose. “He hasn’t left his house since he got back. They aren’t pressing charges for violating the agreement. Lucky bastard. Sylvia is keeping an eye on him.”

  “Who’s checking into th
e name he gave us?”

  “I have agents on that,” she said. “We don’t want to spook the suspect.”

  “We should have something actionable soon,” I told her in a low voice. “We can plan the sting at delivery.”

  “And you seriously believe the Cuban government will allow even one car to be shipped to Florida?”

  I didn’t blame Diane for her disbelief, but I wasn’t about to express my doubts to her.

  “We’ll do what needs to be done to bring this guy’s operation down.”

  Diane’s frustrated grunt came through loud and clear. “Don’t ruffle more feathers than you have to. You know the spiel.”

  I glanced toward Yoani and Philippe on the other side of the room. They didn’t appear to be listening in, but it was best not to assume they weren’t. I kept my voice low.

  “We’ll know more tomorrow. I’ll call you then.”

  “You better. I want this over yesterday.”

  “You and me both, boss.”

  I ended the call and snagged a slice of cake as Diane’s new percolated through my mind, particularly in regard to Mike. He sure as hell had connections, but that didn’t mean he had the license to do what he wanted. Diane was right that he was a lucky bastard for not facing charges. What worried me was that he’d holed up in his house. Mike was all about getting things done. There was no way he wasn’t cooking up a plan to go knock heads until he got answers. Now that he had a name to chew on, I had a bad feeling.

  “Lamarr, Robbie, we need to talk.” I pointed to Philippe. “Have Clyde get his ass over here, and then you and Yoani need to give us the room for a while.”

  “Do you have new information?” Yoani asked as she stood.

  “Not relating to this.” It wasn’t a total lie, I told myself. “We need to talk in private.”

  She narrowed her eyes but dragged Philippe to the next suite. Clyde emerged with his book in hand and used his foot to shove the door shut behind him.

  “What?” he complained.

  “First, have you heard anything from the Havana crime lab?” That had been nagging at the back of my mind for a while. “We need something useful about that intruder, so we know what direction to go.”