“Arrested here for what?” Cleary asked.
“For starters, drugging me,” I said.
“With the same drug she probably used on your brother,” Doc added.
Cleary’s head snapped around. “My brother?”
“Tena Horvac was registered at the Hope Town Harbour Lodge under the name of Ettaleigh Bonamy,” Deuce said.
“From what Jesse described the drug doing to him, I feel pretty confident that you’ll find one or more of these drugs in your brother’s system,” Doc said, pointing at the open briefcase.
Cleary looked at Horvac then at the case and finally at me. “What did these drugs do to you, exactly?”
Charity and Nikki both giggled as Rusty chuckled at my discomfort. “If I remember correctly,” Doc said, “Jesse claimed it made him want to ‘hump a fence post.’ His words.”
“It’s some sort of aphrodisiac?” Cleary asked, annoyed.
“Far beyond that,” Doc said, getting serious. “It apparently attacked Jesse’s circulatory system, causing his heart to beat at double strength and double speed. It’s also a mild hallucinogen, which caused him to see and feel everything as being suggestive and sexually exciting. Sort of like the drug ecstasy. Combined and given to a man in a large enough dosage, he’d want nothing more than to literally have sex until his heart exploded. And the drug could very well give a man that ability.”
I could almost see the light go on inside Cleary’s head. His head turned slowly back to Horvac and he said, “You screwed my brother to death?”
“Feel free to take this briefcase, Sergeant,” Deuce said. “I’m sure your ME will be able to do a comparison and determine if that’s what happened.”
“What of these other two women?” Cleary said, never taking his eyes off of Horvac.
“We know nothing about them,” Deuce said. “They are staying in one of the villas below here and when the shooting started, we thought it best to keep them here where they couldn’t be hurt.” Looking directly at Rosales, he added, “Since there seemed to be a lot of people running around who weren’t who they said they were, we thought it best to restrain them.”
“None of you know who these women are?” Cleary asked, looking around.
“We’re just a couple of tourists here to do some diving,” Yvette said.
“Yeah, you need to let us go, or we’ll sue you for false arrest,” added Melissa.
“No,” Deuce replied. “We have no reason to believe they’re anyone other than who they say they are.”
“Release them,” Cleary said.
Tony went behind the couch and used a pair of wire cutters to cut the zip ties that secured their wrists.
“No hard feelings, ladies,” Tony said and the two women left in a huff.
“Tena Horvac,” Cleary announced, “you are under arrest for suspicion in the murder of James Cleary.”
He went on to read her pretty much the same rights she’d have had in America and then took her into custody. Before leaving he gave Deuce his card and said when we were ready to start our search, to let him know and he’d contact the homeowners and pave the way.
“Cleary’s wrong,” I said to Deuce after Cleary left with Horvac. “There’s two groups of three running loose out there.”
Turning to Rosales, I asked, “Why didn’t you tell him about the other three men and what happened at Hole in the Wall?”
“They probably wouldn’t find anything there,” she replied. “I overheard Reynolds tell the pilot to return there, clean up, and dispose of the bodies.”
“Bodies?” Rusty asked.
“Yes, bodies. One of their men was killed in the firefight, along with Gary Lopez, Reynolds’s partner. The light keeper was killed before we even arrived. By now, their bodies have been dumped far out at sea.”
“They killed King Charles?” Rusty asked, standing suddenly. “That old man wouldn’t hurt nobody.”
Deuce turned to Charity. “Sit down with Agent Rosales and do sketches of anyone she can identify.” Then he asked Rosales, “I don’t suppose you know what kind of chopper it was?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a smile. “It’s a Bell 407, white with a red stripe. It’s owned by Maggio and the pilot’s name is Quintero. Madic has a Bombardier Challenger at the Marsh Harbour airport, also.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“What should we do now?” Sabina asked when she and Elana got back inside their villa.
“Do?” Elana replied. “We get out of here. Now!” She started toward the bedroom to grab a few essentials.
“Wait, Elana,” the dark-haired woman said. “There may be something else we can do.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Elana exclaimed, spinning on her heel. “Our employer is dead, Sabina!” Pointing toward the house, she continued. “There are nine of them up there. All well-trained American agents. And they have the backing of the local politia. You heard what their leader said. Whoever killed Valentin numbers three and then there are three others somewhere. Someone is cleaning up the mess. In case you have not noticed, that makes fifteen of them against just the two of us.”
“Yes,” Sabina said with a smile. “But we know all nine of the ones here. That makes eleven against six.”
Elana walked over to a chair and flopped down in it to think about what Sabina had just told her.
Sabina walked around her and sat down in the chair across from her, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. She waited until Elana reached the same conclusion on her own, knowing she would.
Elana looked up at her companion and smiled. “We bide our time? Work our way into the Americans’ trust?”
Sabina smiled and said, “They’re sure to hide the treasure on that big boat of theirs. All we have to do is take over their boat somehow.”
Elana looked across the room, through the open window and up at the big blue house. She slowly looked back at Sabina, smiling. “And kill them all. It might work. Here is what we should do.” The two women leaned toward each other conspiratorially.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Wearing a clean pair of khaki pants, docksiders, my one and only short-sleeved white dress shirt, and a pair of aviator shades I picked up at a gift shop, I strode into one of the fixed-base operators at Marsh Harbour airport. Both Madic’s plane and Maggio’s chopper were parked right in front of it.
“You need fuel, sir?” the young man behind the counter asked. He was wearing a white polo shirt, with Cherokee Air Services embroidered on the pocket. His name tag said his name was Clifford.
“Thanks, Clifford,” I said, looking around and seeing that he was apparently working alone. “We got fuel when we arrived a few days ago.” It was a busy airport and I knew from my own experience that to locals, most tourists’ faces seem to blend together after a while.
“What can I do for you? Mister…”
“Madic,” I replied. “I think my friend’s cell service must not work out here.” Jerking my thumb over my shoulder toward the white Bell chopper on the apron, I continued. “The Bell 407 out there? Mister Maggio’s people? I can’t find them anywhere and it’s a small island.”
“Four men and two very pretty women?” Clifford said with a grin. Most tourists’ faces blend together, I thought, but not all.
Knowing that a pilot always leaves contact information with an FBO in case they need to move his plane, I grinned. “Yeah, that’s them. They’re supposed to stay at the same place we’re staying, but they’re not there. I figured I’d find Quintero either at the nearest bar, or right here. He’s particular about Mister Maggio’s chopper.”
He glanced down at his ledger, flipped back a couple of pages, and ran his finger down the list of incoming flights, stopping twice. “Here it is, Mister Madic. Arrived the night before you. Mister Quintero said he would be staying at Abaco Inn, at White Sound.”
“Abaco Inn?” I asked. “He told me they’d be at Hope Town Harbour Lodge.”
“Is that where you’re staying
? What happened there?”
“From what I heard, some rival drug gangs,” I replied. “Abaco Inn, huh?”
“Yes, sir. I can call the desk if you like.”
Pulling my satellite phone out, I said, “So can I.” I slipped a twenty across the counter and, after looking left and right, Clifford snagged it and stuck it in his pocket.
“Thanks, Clifford,” I said as I turned and headed toward the door.
“Any time, Mister Madic,” my new best friend replied.
Outside, I climbed into the waiting cab and was whisked back to the ferry dock. An hour later, I was back at the house. Deuce and Julie were there with Linda Rosales.
“They struck out at the first site,” Deuce said. “At least the homeowner was willing to let them search the yard with the metal detectors.”
“Where’s Tony?” I asked. Tony had stayed behind to spear some fish in the lagoon for supper.
“Those two women staying in the villa stopped by,” Julie said. “They asked if anyone knew anything about diesel engines, so he went down to the dock to see if he could help.”
“They’re still here? I figured they’d have cleared out pretty quick after last night.”
“Me, too,” Linda said. “The blonde said that they understood you were only trying to protect them.” Just then Rusty came through the door, his bald head beaded with sweat.
He went straight for the fridge and drank down a bottle of water in one pull. “This treasure hunting is hard work,” he said as the others came in.
“We did a preliminary check,” Doc said, “with the metal detectors set for precious metals at max depth. All we found in a thirty-foot grid from where the treasure should have been was a few Bahamian coins.”
“What’d you find out, Jesse?” Deuce asked.
“The chopper and Madic’s plane are both still at the airport,” I replied. “Quintero is staying at Abaco Inn, just a little north of here.”
“Get a room number?” Bourke asked.
“No, but that shouldn’t be hard,” I said, smiling at Linda.
She looked up at me and asked, “Having a flashback from the drug Horvac gave you?”
I blushed slightly, remembering the previous night and this morning. “No! Sorry, I didn’t mean anything like that.”
“Just pulling your leg, Jesse,” she said. “You want me to persuade the desk clerk at Abaco Inn to give me Quintero’s room number, right?”
“And maybe get him to open the door,” I said. “Without a gun in his hand.”
“The way he kept ogling my legs on the flight up from Hole in the Wall, it shouldn’t be any trouble. What’s your plan?”
I looked over at Deuce, who said, “While you were gone, I called Sergeant Cleary and offered our assistance and told him we might have a lead on where his gunmen are staying. He said he’d come by here after he gets Horvac booked and in a holding cell.”
“Kind of a reach, isn’t it?” I asked, sitting on the stool next to him. Usually it’s me making rash connections based on a hunch. “I mean, Maggio obviously sent those shooters to eliminate not only Madic and his people as rivals, but also the three that could connect him to anything. My guess would be he’d want to eliminate Quintero and the two men with him as well.”
Deuce’s laptop beeped and he opened it. A window opened saying that he had a video call from Chyrel. He clicked the connect icon and Chyrel’s face came up on the screen.
“Hi, Deuce,” Chyrel said. Then, in what I’m sure she considered a sultry voice, she said, “How’s it hanging, Jesse?” She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, laughing.
I glared at Deuce. “Is there anyone you guys didn’t tell?”
“I’m pretty sure the First Lady doesn’t know,” Chyrel said, laughing even harder.
Getting control of herself, she said, “The information you asked for just came through, Deuce. I forwarded it to the Director and emailed it to you. Checking immediate family and known associates I found that Alfredo Maggio has a cousin in Kendall by the name of Rodrigo Quintero and another cousin in North Miami named Manuel Serrano.”
“Everybody’s got a cousin in Miami,” I said, which caused Chyrel to start laughing again.
“I didn’t know you were a parrot head, Jesse.”
“A what head?”
“Never mind,” Chyrel said and continued. “Rodrigo Quintero has a helicopter pilot’s license and sometimes flies Maggio’s Bell for him.”
“Good work,” Deuce said.
“Hey, when are you guys coming home? It’s too quiet around here.”
“With any luck, by the end of the week,” Deuce replied. “Contact the Director and let him know what happened here last night and that, as shorthanded as the local LEOs are, I volunteered our services.”
“Will do. Talk to you later.” The screen went blank and Deuce closed the computer.
“Who is Manuel Serrano?” I asked. “And what’s a parrot head?”
“Manuel Serrano is the other man that was killed at Hole in the Wall,” Rosales replied.
“That’s the hunch I had,” Deuce said. “Maggio isn’t going to kill his cousin. But he will send mercs to help his cousin, when someone kills a family member.”
“So you think Quintero is hiding the Brits?”
“We’re the only ones that know who Quintero and the other two from Hole in the Wall are. For that matter, we’re the only ones that know they exist.”
I thought about that for a minute. It would be best if we had the local Police support, to clear anyone else out of the hotel.
“Are you going to stay for supper?” Julie asked Linda. “We have plenty. That is, if you like fish.”
“Hadn’t really thought about it,” she replied. “Nor where I’m going to stay.”
“You’ll stay here, of course,” Charity said. “It’d be dangerous for you anywhere else. Tony can move into my room and you and I can bunk in his, where there’s two beds.”
I looked out the large glass sliding doors to the southwest. “It’s almost sunset,” I said. “I think I’m gonna go get a shower and give Kim a call, then have a beer and watch the sun go down.”
“Keep your phone handy,” Deuce said. “And see what’s taking Tony so long.”
I headed down the path with Pescador trotting ahead. When I got to the dock, I could hear Tony laughing and talking to the two women.
“Deuce was wondering if you’d been kidnapped,” I said, approaching the women’s boat. “What was the problem with the engine?”
“Believe it or not, as clear as the water is here, the intake strainer was fouled, causing the engine to overheat. Guess they don’t check them over all that well at the rental marina.”
“I’m gonna hit the showers. Deuce was asking about you—I think they’re about to start supper.”
“Hope it’s all right,” Tony said. “I invited Michelle and Yvette to eat with us. Figured it was the least we could do, after last night.”
I nodded at the two women, grinned, and said, “Hope this Squid didn’t hurt you ladies.”
They both looked puzzled for a moment, and then the blonde said, “Oh, no, we’re both fine. We slept through most of it.”
I continued up to the dock and stepped down into the cockpit of the Revenge. Pescador went over by the transom door and, after making a couple of turns, settled down for a nap. I unlocked the hatch, turned off the alarm, and went straight forward to my stateroom.
Ten minutes later, after a shower and fresh clothes, I was sitting on the bridge with a cold beer, thinking over everything that had happened in the last few days. Looking over the starboard bow at the sun slowly sinking toward the horizon, I took out my phone and called Kim.
She was excited to hear from me, explaining that she’d gone to the gun range early the day before, which was why she didn’t get my call. I told her about some of the things going on here, leaving out the dangerous parts. She was excited about the treasure hunt and part of me wished she were here
to share the experience. The irrational part. The rational side knew it was still far too dangerous. We talked for a few minutes more, when I heard footsteps coming down the dock.
Linda had changed clothes. Her feet were bare and she was wearing khaki cargo pants and a long-sleeved plaid shirt that I recognized as belonging to Julie. I told Kim I had to go and ended the call, with her saying, “I love you, Dad.”
“Mind some company?” Linda asked when she got to the end of the dock.
“Come on up, Agent Rosales,” I replied. “You’ll need to ask the dog’s permission first, though. He’s picky about that, thinks it’s his boat.”
“May I come aboard?” she asked Pescador, as if talking to a dog was an everyday occurrence. He looked up and barked once.
“I take it that’s dog talk for ‘permission granted’?”
“Far as I know, yeah.”
She dropped lightly down to the deck and climbed quickly up the ladder. She sat down on the end of the port bench and looked out over the water toward the setting sun.
“Care for a beer?” I asked, nudging the small cooler with my foot.
“Thanks,” she said, opening it and taking a bottle. She twisted the top off and took a long, slow pull on the ice cold Kalik. “Since we’re drinking buddies now, do you think you can drop the ‘Agent’ part? Just Linda will do fine.”
“Okay, Linda,” I replied. “Welcome aboard Gaspar’s Revenge.” I held my bottle out to her and she clinked the neck with her own bottle.
“Hard to believe any kind of violence could ever happen in such an idyllic place as this,” she said, watching the sun sinking lower. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more peaceful sight.”
She was right; this was one of the most tranquil, beautiful places I’d ever been to. But even though it’s very small, this island had seen its share of violence over the centuries. I kept dwelling on the Spanish sailors that met their end in a storm a couple of miles from here and the survivors finally dying of thirst, starvation, or injuries they’d sustained in the wreck. Maybe a combination of all three. I suddenly felt a chill and shuddered.
Fallen Mangrove (Jesse McDermitt Series Book 5) Page 26
