Bluewater Betrayal: The Fifth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 5)

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Bluewater Betrayal: The Fifth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 5) Page 19

by Charles Dougherty


  "Okay. When?"

  "I got some sources that I made a deal with; I can't use it until they say so."

  "These sources, they wouldn't be…"

  "You know I can't say, Paul, so don't even guess out loud. My face would probably give it away, and you're a smart guy. You've probably figured it out. Close enough, anyway."

  "Call me before you turn it loose?"

  "Of course." Maggie snatched the check. "Stay in touch, handsome."

  ****

  Paul was almost home from his meeting with Maggie when his phone rang. He punched the green button and switched it to the hands-free mode.

  "This is Paul Russo."

  "Hey, Russo. You alone?"

  "Yeah, Luke. I'm in the car. Just left a meeting with your friend Maggie."

  "I know."

  "You following me now? Or her?"

  "Nah. You two ain't worth the trouble."

  "So how'd…"

  "Look, I'll cut to the chase here. We can talk later; we gotta talk later."

  "What…"

  "Listen, Paul. D.E.A. investigation. I just got my ass reamed; they think you're workin' for me."

  "Sorry, Luke. Remind them that I don't work for them either. If they want my co-operation, this ain't the way to get it."

  "They might lock your ass up and lose the key."

  "They tell you that?"

  "You know those bastards."

  "You know me. They do, too. Remind them how well I react to shit like this."

  "There's a new guy running the task force. He doesn't…"

  "Well, help him learn. Fast."

  "Cool down, Russo."

  "I'm cool. Tell the D.E.A. guy to check me out before he pisses off the wrong people. You know who I mean."

  "Jesus, Russo."

  "Nothin' personal, Luke. I know you're just doin' your job; I never kill the messenger."

  "I know. Love ya, Russo."

  "Look. Tell 'em I may have a different agenda here, but we're not in conflict. They'll have to trust me on that. I won't blow their gig, but I gotta look after my friends. I think I know where they're goin', and I'm willing to work with 'em, but not if they give me a bunch of crap. Tell 'em I got an anonymous tip that connects O'Leary and Delgado to Levine and the Senator; that's a good faith offering for 'em."

  "Yeah, I'll try that on them. It might help. By the way, they think O'Leary is down in the islands. Might want to give your friends a heads-up."

  "Thanks. I'll pass that on."

  Chapter 28

  Liz was peeling freshly steamed shrimp at the galley sink when she felt Vengeance shift beneath her feet. She looked out the porthole on the opposite side of the boat and saw a man's slacks and street shoes on deck. She picked up her eight-inch chef's knife and stepped backward into the aft cabin as she heard his footsteps in the cockpit. She closed the door most of the way, leaving a narrow gap that afforded her a view of most of the main cabin. She heard the man come down the companionway steps, and then he stepped forward into the main cabin. She watched as he swept the interior with his eyes, hands empty but held at the ready. He moved like a cat, checking out the forward cabins with quick smooth movements. She knew it would only be a moment before he came back to look in the aft cabin; she considered her options. She turned the doorknob as she pushed the door shut, releasing the knob slowly so that the latch didn't click. She stepped back away from the door just as he opened it.

  Remembering Dani's admonition that a knife was an offensive weapon that should never be shown to an opponent, she turned her left shoulder toward the opening door and tucked her right hand and the knife out of sight behind her right thigh. The man smiled when he saw her.

  "Good morning," he said. "I'm looking for Liz."

  "I'm Liz. And you are?"

  "Sorry. Dan O'Leary."

  As he gave a mocking half-bow, Liz pivoted and drove the knife toward his lower belly, visualizing all of her strength flowing in a direct line with the tip of the blade. As it touched the fabric of his shirt, she felt a lightning bolt of pain shoot up her right arm as his left hand clamped around her right wrist. He pivoted out of the way of her thrust as he twisted her arm. The knife clattered to the cabin sole.

  "Not bad for a girl," he said.

  Liz followed her wrist as he pulled her around until she was at an angle that allowed her to use the leverage of her arm against the thumb of his right hand. She snatched her wrist free and continued to turn until she had her back to him, at which point she drove her left elbow back into his solar plexus with all of her 115 pounds behind it. He gasped for breath as she completed her turn, facing him again.

  He immediately wrapped his arms around her torso in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet, effectively limiting her mobility. She ducked her head and butted, aiming for his nose, but he was quicker. Her forehead met the top of his skull and she saw stars. He began to crush her; she felt her ribs were about to crack. Stunned and unable to breathe, she knew her time was limited.

  At least he hadn't trapped her arms in the bear hug. She clawed at his eyes, but he buried his face in the junction of her neck and shoulder to protect them. Her vision began to narrow, but she managed to clamp his right ear in her left fist. With a violent jerk, she tore the cartilage away from his skull, pulling his ear loose as his flesh tore. He screamed in pain and dropped her.

  His hands flew to the side of his head, but his ear was still in her hand, barely attached by a flap of bloody tissue. She gave it a final yank and dropped it. She gasped, filling her lungs, and stepped back a few inches. She folded her right hand and delivered a knuckle strike to his larynx with all of her remaining strength. His screams were cut off abruptly as he collapsed at her feet.

  She took another deep breath as she looked at the mess. Dani had told her that tearing someone's ear off caused profuse bleeding and sometimes shock, but she was still surprised. The aft cabin looked like an abattoir, and the blood was still pouring over the side of the man's neck.

  She stepped through the doorway into the galley and pulled out the drawer where they kept an assortment of tools, tape, and odds and ends for quick repairs. She grabbed a handful of cable ties and used them to hog tie O'Leary, rolling the semiconscious man onto his stomach and tying his wrists and ankles together. He groaned as she jerked the final cable tie into place, pulling his ankles up to his wrists and drawing his back into an uncomfortable arch.

  "Bitch," he muttered. "I'm gonna make you scream like no orgasm you ever imagined."

  "Not right now, loverboy. I've got a headache," Liz said, as she tore off a length of duct tape and wrapped it twice around his head, covering his mouth. She looked at the bloody mess again and stepped back into the galley. She grabbed a handful of paper towels, folded them neatly, and taped them to the side of his head to stanch the bleeding.

  She ran some water into a bowl and picked up a sponge, cleaning up the blood in Connie's cabin before it set. Finished, she stood up and stretched her back. She saw him following her with his eyes as he writhed, testing the cable ties. She watched him for a moment. Satisfied that he was secure, she clenched her teeth and delivered a swift kick to his ribs. "Now I need to shower and change before I can finish in the galley. Lunch will be late, thanks to you, you worthless bastard."

  ****

  Paul was at his desk making notes on his meeting with Maggie O'Malley when Luke Pantene called.

  "You scored some points with that guy we were talking about a little while ago," Luke said. "I don't think it hurt anything that he mentioned your name to some of his troops. Couple of them remembered working with you a few years ago on the task force, I guess."

  "Great. So he's not gonna send me to Guantanamo anymore?"

  "I wouldn't go that far. He's still an asshole, but he's smart enough to know when he's in a box. They got a guy on the inside; he confirmed some of what you said. Guess they hadn't asked him the right questions until you gave 'em that lead."

  "That's good, because I'll proba
bly never know who that woman was that called me."

  "He told them that Rudy helped Dulzuras disappear after O'Leary talked about 'punching her ticket' to keep her quiet about the Senator."

  "I thought you said O'Leary was down in the islands. I was just about to call my friends down there and see if they knew anything about him."

  "Yeah, I figured that. Your new best friend at the D.E.A. heard that you had pretty solid contacts down there. He's trying to get a warrant for O'Leary -- wondered if you could help round him up."

  "That's a real switch from a couple of hours ago."

  "Yeah, it sure is. Did you call somebody? Complain about him?"

  "No. Haven't had a chance. Maybe he complained about me to the wrong person."

  "Could be. Or maybe he's smarter than I thought."

  "Thanks, Luke. I need to make a few calls -- warn my friends down island. Maggie heard that O'Leary had his sights on them. If he's in the islands, I need to let them know."

  "Right. Stay in touch."

  ****

  As Connie and Dani rounded Lind Point on their return trip to Vengeance, they saw Liz sitting in the cockpit. Her position looked odd, but they were too far away to make out much detail. When they were a bit closer, Dani noticed that she was almost reclining, leaning back against the back of the deck house, facing aft.

  "Looks like she's napping," she said to Connie over the noise of the outboard.

  "But why out in the cockpit?"

  "No. Wait. She's got something on her head."

  By then, Liz heard their approach and sat up. Moments later, Connie brought the dinghy alongside, and they saw that Liz was holding one of the cold packs from the first aid kit against her forehead.

  "What happened?" Connie asked as Dani scrambled aboard, leaving her to tie up the dinghy.

  "We had a visitor."

  "Who?" Dani demanded. She took the cold pack from Liz and examined the blue knot just below her hairline.

  "Dan O'Leary."

  "He's gone?" Connie asked.

  "In your cabin. I tied him up."

  "What happened?" Dani asked.

  "Head-butt gone wrong. He's got the fastest reflexes I've ever seen. Bastard."

  Connie was below by now, looking at their captive. "He's a mess," she said as she came back up the companionway ladder. "Where did all the blood come from?"

  "I tore his ear off. Thought I had it cleaned up. I couldn't finish fixing lunch -- think I have a mild concussion."

  "He's out cold," Connie said. "Did you knock him out?"

  "Smashed his larynx, maybe. He came to while I was tying him up."

  "Probably in shock," Dani said. She went below. "Jesus, Liz! You tore his ear clean off. It's on the cabin sole under him."

  "You told me…"

  "Yeah, I know. Don't stop while your opponent is still breathing. The quick and the dead, and all that. He's bled quite a bit, if you already cleaned up once. No wonder he's out. I couldn't rouse him."

  "Now what?" Connie asked.

  "How long ago did this happen?" Dani asked.

  "Right after you left. At first, I thought you had forgotten something and turned around, but then I saw his shoes through the porthole."

  "So about half an hour, 45 minutes, max," Connie said.

  "Seems longer," Liz said.

  "He must have planned to wait for all of us," Dani muttered. "If he's got backup, they'll be here soon if they saw us come back. Let's get out of here before we have more company."

  "Shall we pick up the dinghy?" Connie asked.

  "Move it to the stern. We'll tow it; the sea's calm enough. Once we're far enough south of the islands to have some privacy, we'll stop and pick it up if nobody's chasing us."

  Dani started the diesel as Connie went forward and released the mooring pennant.

  "What about clearing out?" Connie asked as she started removing the cover from the mainsail.

  "Not required for a U.S.-flagged vessel leaving U.S. waters."

  "Where are we going?"

  "I don't know; let's get out of sight of land while we think about it. Once we're sure we're clear, I'll wake him up and see what I can get out of him, but I'm thinking we'll give him to the professionals back in Martinique. They can use drugs; I'm worried he might die on us before he talks if I rough him up too much."

  Chapter 29

  Louis Godfrey had called Phillip and told him what he had learned at Leclerc's bar the previous night. They had agreed that Phillip should arrange to have Jimmy Campbell questioned, and they were drinking coffee on Phillip's veranda while they waited for word of his capture. Louis had been trying to learn more about his new allies, but so far, he had only managed to determine that Phillip was skilled at conversing without giving away anything of value. Phillip had spent a good deal of time telling him about how his relationship with Dani had evolved, and his friendship with her father, his former business partner. Godfrey knew now that they had brokered trade between U.S. and European manufacturers and a number of countries in Central and South America. He suspected that they had not been dealing in bicycles or kitchen appliances, but he had no hard basis for his suspicions. When the phone rang inside the house, Phillip excused himself to take the call, and Godfrey poured a fresh cup of coffee and put his feet up on the railing, leaning back and admiring the yachts in the anchorage off Ste. Anne.

  "They couldn't find Jimmy Campbell at first," Phillip reported in a few minutes. "They started at the hotel he listed on the landing card when he got off the flight from St. Vincent. He had a room, but he didn't sleep there last night. After they chased their tails for a while, they discovered he was in jail."

  Godfrey raised his eyebrows at that.

  "The gendarmes caught him early this morning loading two bodies into a boat in the harbor the local fishermen use -- the one just west of the marina."

  "Who did he kill?"

  "Well, that's where it gets interesting. He claimed he didn't kill anybody; he was just supposed to ditch the bodies. He didn't know for sure who killed them, but Dan O'Leary had told him to get rid of them. One was David Roux, Henri's older brother, who's been missing from La Duprey for a couple of days, and the other was Guy Leclerc himself. Both of them had been tortured; burned with cigarettes, and the bodies were damn near frozen."

  "How were they killed?"

  "They're waiting on a full coroner's report, but the preliminary guess is an ice pick in the ear."

  "Sounds like a professional job, maybe."

  "Yeah."

  "Any leads on O'Leary?"

  "He boarded a flight to St. Thomas the day after Campbell got here."

  "How about Caroline Delorme? Anything?"

  "Campbell never heard of her. Sorry."

  "What's next, then?"

  "I want to call a friend in Miami; see if he's learned any more about O'Leary."

  "You don't want to warn the girls on Vengeance?"

  "They're already on high alert; they know somebody's after them. No point in bothering them unless I know more."

  ****

  Vengeance was hove to about 15 miles south of St. Thomas. Liz was feeling well enough to help Dani and Connie take the outboard off the RIB and was securing it to the stern rail while they hoisted the RIB itself onto the coach roof and lashed it down. They all kept a wary eye on the horizon to the north as they worked, but they were beginning to believe that O'Leary had indeed been working alone.

  Before they had stopped, Dani had ripped the duct tape from his mouth and doused him with ice water, bringing him around enough for him to curse her soundly and describe in great detail what he would do to her and Liz.

  "Sounds delightful," she had said, "but I don't think a one-eared man will do it for me, and Liz still has a headache. Maybe later. You got any friends that could help you out? I don't think you're man enough for all three of us."

  "You're going to scream, bitch! Cut me loose or I'll…"

  He shrieked as she stuck her thumb into his eye socke
t, her nail in the corner next to his nose. As he thrashed, she kept enough pressure on her thumb to keep it in place and grabbed a handful of his hair with her other hand.

  "Be still, now, or you'll be a one-eyed, one-eared man. Or would you rather I let Liz take your other ear? She's thinking about starting a collection."

  "Bitch," he muttered, but he held still.

  "You don't know the half of it, asshole. I'm gonna ask you a question, and if I even think you might be lying, it'll cost you an eye and your other ear. You believe me?" She took her thumb out of his eye and jerked his head back with her left hand. "Look me in the eye, scumbag."

  He stared up at her, studying her cold blue eyes until he blinked and looked away. "Okay," he mumbled. "What do you want?"

  "Is anybody working with you, or did you think you could handle this by yourself?"

  "I always work by myself. That's all I'm gonna to tell you, though."

  "Oh, you're going to tell us stuff you think you've forgotten before we're through with you. But that's enough for right now. Rest. You're going to need your strength when my friends get hold of you in a few hours."

  She picked up the satellite phone on her way back to the cockpit. "He says he always works alone," she told the others. "Guess we're okay to stop and bring the dinghy aboard."

  ****

  As she and Connie finished lashing the RIB in place, Liz picked up the satellite phone. "Should we call Phillip?" she asked.

  "Sure. Go ahead while Connie and I get us under way again."

  By the time Phillip answered, Vengeance was making nine knots on a southerly course. Liz switched to hands-free mode and set the instrument on the cockpit table. "We're all here, Phillip," she said.

  "Good. Louis Godfrey is here with me, and I have Paul holding on the other line. Can I bridge him in?"

  "Sure," Liz agreed.

  "Hello, everybody," Phillip said in a moment. "You there, Paul?"

  "Here."

  "Louis and I were just talking about you with Paul. We're pretty sure there's a guy named Dan O'Leary looking for you. He's in St; Thomas, and you need to watch out; he's a nasty character. Where are you now?"

  "We're about 15 miles south of St. Thomas, under sail. Don't worry about O'Leary; he's under control. That's why we're calling."

 

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