“People know I’m here. Someone may have seen me come in. And I don’t have a weapon.”
“You will have. It’s going to look like you came in, tried to rob me, and I shot you in self-defense.”
Before Thorny could reply, Rosenburg pumped three hollow points into his chest. Thorny was dead before he hit the floor. Rosenburg stepped from behind his desk, slipped a wicked- looking open stiletto into Thorny’s hand, and dialed 911.
Chapter 10
I stepped off the plane at George Town, Grand Cayman Island, and stepped into paradise. The warm, humid sea breeze sure beat the cutting cold wind I’d left behind. Clearing customs, I saw Cyrus in the small crowd waiting to meet passengers. He looked right at home in cream-colored slacks and a light-blue silk shirt.
“Trace,” Cyrus yelled, waving his hand.
I grabbed my luggage and headed in his direction.
“Cyrus, thank you for picking me up,” I said, shaking his hand.
“My pleasure, Trace. Sorry to hear about Tina’s mother. I was looking forward to meeting Tina.”
“Thanks, Cyrus.”
“I keep a townhouse here, but I’ve booked you a suite at the Colonial. The Hollywood boys have used the hotel in lots of movies. Just beware of hookers at the bar,” Cyrus said, with a laugh.
“I remember some of the movies. And don’t worry. I’ll be careful . . . but not too careful.”
“Fair enough. I’ll drop you at the hotel. Take a swim, relax a bit, and I’ll meet you there for dinner. Jack’s Grill, in the hotel, around seven?”
“Perfect.”
“See you then.”
Cyrus dropped me off at the hotel. I checked in and then hit the pool for few laps. Rejuvenated, I plopped in a lounge chair and called Dominic.
“Dominic? Trace Brandon. Did Wally get hold of you?”
“Yes, Trace. Do you want to meet?” she asked, her French accent adding to her allure.
“Can you come over to the Colonial?”
“Give me about fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll be at the pool. I’m about six feet with dark hair, navy swimsuit, and Central Washington University tee shirt. Bring your swim-suit if you want to take a dip.”
Twenty minutes later, I spotted her. Wally’s rating was a tad low. I put her closer to a twelve. Dark complexion, shoulder- length, jet-black hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and a body like a centerfold. She looked in my direction, and I waved her over.
“Trace?” she asked, extending her hand.
“Dominic, very glad to meet you,” I replied, shaking her firm hand.
“So, Trace, you’re meeting with Cyrus?”
“Well, when he called and invited me to come down here for a meeting, it was about twenty degrees in Ellensburg with blowing snow. Coupled with the fact that Cyrus is a large shareholder in Montana Creek Mining, the decision wasn’t too tough,” I said, with a laugh.
Dominic laughed. “Very understandable. I hate snow too. Have you met Cyrus before?”
“Yes, he came to a presentation I made in Vancouver. We spoke for a few minutes. He’s quite a character.”
“Yes, he can be all charm and wit, but don’t underestimate him, Trace. He’s hard as nails and gives no quarter.”
“I know. He’s already had a couple of his miscreants try and foul up our drilling operation. And as you found out, he’s acquiring our shares both here, and in Vancouver.”
My cell phone rang. “Speak of the devil. Excuse me just a sec.”
“Trace, Cyrus.”
“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?”
“Listen, Trace. I’m bringing a date with me to dinner. Do you want me to have her bring a friend for you?”
“Hold just a sec, Cyrus,” I replied, cupping the phone. “Dominic, care to have dinner with me, Cyrus, and his date? Jack’s around seven.”
“Love to. It should be quite interesting.”
“Cyrus, I’ve got a date. We’ll meet you at seven.”
“Tell Dominic I look forward to her company,” Cyrus said, with a chuckle.
“Why am I not surprised you’d figure it out?” I said.
“It’s a small island, Trace. See you tonight.”
Dominic and I swam, had a drink with an umbrella in it, and got to know each other a bit. Around five she left to get ready for dinner.
At seven sharp we all met at Jack’s Grill.
“Dominic, Trace, I’d like you to meet Lisa Miller. She’s from Savannah, Georgia. Graduated from the University of Georgia and is a former Miss Georgia. Lisa manages the day- to-day operations of Carib International. Of course, you may already know that.” Cyrus said, smiling at Dominic.
“Nice to meet y’all,” Lisa said, her southern drawl like warm butter.
She looked to be in her early forties, but still a beauty.
Cyrus had reservations, and we were seated ahead of a large crowd waiting for tables.
From our table, in a VIP reserved area, we had a breathtaking view of Seven Mile Beach.
We all ordered drinks, and Cyrus ordered a starter of broiled scallops for the table.
“I think you’ll find the food here excellent,” Cyrus said, between bites of seared, curried scallops. “Jack’s has become one of the most popular restaurants on the island. If you’re not a friend of the management, so to speak, it’s damned hard to get a reservation.”
Dominic and I ordered the red snapper with cous-cous. Lisa went with the wahoo, and Cyrus chose lobster. Several bottles of two-year-old, and very expensive, Sauvignon Blanc complemented the seafood and the conversation.
“So, Trace, my compliments on your acquisition of the Sullivan Mine, going public, and a rising share price,” Cyrus said, raising his wine-glass in a toast. “I’m glad my vigilance of new mining claims allowed me the good fortune to participate in your venture.”
“Thank you, Cyrus,” I replied. “We appreciate Twisp River taking down a good portion of our private placement, and Carib’s continued investment in our shares.”
Cyrus smiled and nodded at Dominic. “Actually, I’m quite happy Dominic was able to provide you with information on my ownership of Carib International. Without which, I doubt we’d all be together here tonight.”
Dominic smiled at the polite jab. “Corporate research is my speciality, Cyrus.”
“Touché,” Cyrus replied, winking at Dominic. “Dessert anyone? The vanilla bean créme-brûlée is top of the line.”
As we were leaving Jack’s, Cyrus invited Dominic and me to join him and Lisa tomorrow for a cruise and lunch on his boat.
“Tomorrow at eleven, Blue Water Yacht Club. Dominic knows the way,” Cyrus said. “I’m moored at slip number thirty- five. She’s a black-and-white, forty-four-foot Atlantic.”
‘I’m good to go,” I said. “How about you, Dominic?”
“I think I can clear my schedule,” Dominic replied. “I’ll pick you up in front of your hotel at ten forty-five.”
“Excellent. We’ll look forward to seeing you both,” Cyrus said, “and thank you for a lovely evening.”
Dominic and I watched as Cyrus escorted Lisa out of the hotel.
“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” I said, with a smile.
“No, it was fine,” Dominic replied. “Cyrus even picked up the tab.”
“Yep, he’s a major piece of work,” I said, with a laugh. “Could I interest you in a night-cap?”
“I would, Trace, but I’m going to have a busy morning if I’m to make our lunch date.”
“No problem. I’m full of wine and great food, and I’m pooped. I’ll see you tomorrow at ten forty-five,” I said, giving her a good-night kiss on the cheek.
“Tomorrow it is. Sleep well. I enjoyed your company, Trace. See you in the morning.”
The next morning Dominic picked me up. and we drove a short distance down Seven Mile Beach to the yacht club. We parked her car and walked down the docks until we found Cyrus’s slip. His boat was named the TaxEvader, and she looked sleek and fast.
> “Welcome aboard,” Cyrus called out. “We’re just about to shove off.”
Dominic and I hustled aboard.
“I love the name,” I said, grinning broadly.
“Yeah, me too,” Cyrus said, squeezing my shoulder. “I thought it up while I was making license plates in Oregon.”
“Income tax evasion?”
“You got it. I had a crooked accountant,” Cyrus said, with a laugh. “Can you believe it? The SOB cooks the books, and I go to jail.”
“What happened to the accountant?”
“Sky diving accident,” Cyrus replied, with a wry grin. “Chute didn’t open. Guess he couldn’t pack a parachute any better than he could keep books.”
I helped Lisa cast off the lines, and Cyrus piloted us out of the marina. Dominic and Lisa went below to prepare a light lunch. I went up on the bridge with Cyrus.
“It’s a hell of a nice boat, Cyrus.”
“Thank you. She’s one of a kind. A custom-built Atlantic. Forty-four feet with twin three-hundred-eighty-horsepower engines. She’ll do thirty knots, flat out.”
“Impressive.”
“I’ll take her out a bit and drop anchor. We’ll have a hell of a view of the island while we eat lunch.”
Cyrus found a good spot and, dropped anchor and the girls laid out lunch. We were enjoying conch fritters and cold beer when Cyrus’s cell phone went off.
“Excuse me just a second. It’s Malcolm with Twisp River.”
Cyrus listened but asked few questions. I could see his demeanor change during the call.
“I’m sorry all, but I’m going to have to head back in after you finish your lunch,” Cyrus said, closing his flip phone. “There’s been an accident. Bill Thornton, my long-time associate and close friend, has been killed. I’m going to have to get back to Spokane as soon as possible.”
“What happened, Cyrus?” I asked.
“Well, I may as well tell you, ‘cause you’re going to find out in any case. Richard Rosenburg, one of the founders of the Vancouver shell you merged with, shot and killed Thorny.”
“Why would he kill Mr. Thornton?”
“I don’t have all the details, Trace. But, I’ll get to the bottom of it when I get back to Spokane.”
With Cyrus leaving, there was little point in me sticking around. Although, if Dominic would’ve asked, I’d have stayed on. We’d developed a very good chemistry in only a few days. I sensed if I stuck around, we would find ourselves in a relationship. Discretion being the better part of valor, I packed up, said good-bye to Dominic, and flew back to frozen Spokane.
On the long flight home, I pondered why Rosenburg would’ve killed Thornton. In my gut, I knew it had to be connected to the shares he owned in Montana Creek Mining.
Chapter 11
Richard Rosenburg was a long-time donator to the Vancouver Police Department and a close friend of the chief constable. His testimony and the physical evidence at the crime scene supported his claim of self-defense in the shooting death of William Thornton. No indictment was issued.
After the heat simmered down, Rosenburg called Al Pantelli in New Orleans.
“Mr. Pantelli, this is Richard Rosenburg in Vancouver, Canada. I would like to talk to you, if you have a minute?”
“Goddamn, Rosy, you sure took care of Thornton.”
“He tried to steal some stock certificates from me, and pulled a knife. I had little choice.”
“Uh-huh. Well, it’s water under the freakin’ bridge. So, what can I do for you?”
“It concerns my debt to the Comstock Casino, Mr. Pantelli.”
“Rosy, I assigned your debt to a third party, one of whom you’ve already drilled.”
“What? Who?”
“I assigned it to a Cayman corporation called Carib International.”
“I see,” Rosenburg said, nervously as he grabbed for a pen and paper. “Carib International?”
“Correct.”
“So you and I are square?”
“As a four-by-four. Makes me wonder, though, why Thorny tried to steal your cert’s. Hell, he could have filed a lien on any of your property and gotten the shares legally. He didn’t have to heist them.”
“Well, maybe he wasn’t too smart.”
“I guess not. He’s dead.”
“I appreciate the heads-up, Mr. Pantelli.”
“It wasn’t a heads-up. It’s just how it is. One other thing, Rosy. Stay out of our casino. Next time you get behind, will be the last time you get behind. Capisce?”
“Understood, Mr. Pantelli,” Rosenburg replied, hanging up.
Rosenburg put both elbows on his desk, interlocked his fingers, and rested his chin on his thumbs. This could be a damned dangerous situation, he thought. Or, it could be a hell of an opportunity.
When I got back to my office, my first call was to Tina.
“Tina, it’s Trace. How’s your mom doing?”
“Better, Trace, but it’s going to be a long haul. How was your trip?”
“It got cut short. One of Cyrus’s associates was killed in Vancouver, and he had to get back. So I didn’t get much on-island time, but what I did see, I liked. When we get a break, and your mom’s better, I’ll take you down there.”
“Sounds good, Trace, and I’m sorry about Mr. McSweeny’s friend, but I’m very glad you’re back.”
“Let me get caught up a tad, and we’ll spend some time together.”
“You’ve got a date, cowboy.”
My second call was to Wally, in Vancouver. I wanted his take on what went down with Thornton.
“Well, Trace, Rosenburg told me this Thornton character pulled a knife and tried to steal his Montana Creek Mining shares. Richard kept a revolver in his safe and pulled it out instead of the stock cert’s. He shot Mr. Thornton three times in the chest. Point-blank range.”
“Damn, what in the hell is going on?”
“Good question. Listen, the name Thornton seems familiar to me. Do we know somebody by that name?”
“Remember Ike, the core rustler?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Ike told me he’d been hired by someone called ‘Thorny’.”
“I’m surprised that idiot told you anything.”
“Yeah, well, I had to use enhanced interrogation techniques.”
“What?” Wally said, stifling a laugh. “What did you do to him? Or maybe I don’t want to know.”
“Nothing much really. My techniques are a few levels below water-boarding.”
“Uh-huh. So, if Thorny and Thornton are one and the same, then this leads back to Cyrus?”
“Could be.”
“Stealing the shares for Carib wouldn’t have worked. The shares would have to be transferred legally. New cert’s issued from the transfer agent, all the normal paperwork.”
“Maybe Cyrus has something on Rosenburg and was trying to get the shares legally?”
“Well, there were some rumors on the street about Rosenburg being into a Vegas casino for some serious money. Could be there’s a connection?”
“Possible. At least the shares are still in Rosenburg’s hands. Maybe we should see if we can buy him out. Before someone else comes after him or he dumps the shares.”
“My thoughts exactly. And we better move fast, before the Virus whacks him for killing his buddy, Thornton.”
Chapter 12
A couple days later I got a call from Jim Lee at International Uranium Corp.
“Trace, Jim Lee with IUC. Got a minute?”
“Yes, sir. How are you?”
“Good, Trace. I’m in Toronto meeting with fund managers and wanted to get back to you on acquiring a minority interest in Montana Creek Mining.”
“What did your board think?”
“Oh, they’re like me. They’d like a bigger stake. But I convinced them this is all that’s available at the present time. The situation hasn’t changed, I assume?”
“No, we’ll sell up to a twenty percent interest. I’ve already cleared it
with my board.”
“Okay, Trace. We’re willing to take twenty percent of Montana Creek Mining at a twenty percent premium to the share price. Based on a thirty-day price average prior to the closing date. We’ll also agree to provide all the technical support you’ll need. We would like a first right of refusal to meet or beat any offers, should you decide to sell additional interests in Montana Creek. And I would like a seat on your board.”
“Sounds doable, Jim. I’ll brief my board, and we’ll look forward to receiving a formal proposal.”
“I’ll FedEx it to you today. I’ll be in Vancouver later in the week. Would it be convenient to meet on Thursday?”
“Perfect, we can meet at Walter Wilkins’s office. Wally’s one of our directors and a Vancouver attorney. I’ll bring Will Coffee, our other director, and we can approve the deal in Vancouver.”
“Sounds good. My board has already approved the deal in principal, and I’ll be able to sign for IUC.”
“Okay, I’ll e-mail you Wally’s coordinates after we hang up. I look forward to seeing you in Vancouver, and to a long and profitable partnership.”
“Same here, Trace.”
I set up a conference call with Wally and Will and filled them in.
“Boys, this is a hell of a deal for us,” I said. “We get a major mining company for a partner, technical expertise to production , and a cash infusion of about three and a half million bucks.”
“Should be enough cash to carry us through the drilling,” Will replied.
“I’m damned glad you got the standstill agreement, Trace,” Wally added. “This deal with IUC is going to whet a lot of appetites for a piece of Montana Creek Mining. Being able to vote their shares will keep us out of a hostile takeover attempt.”
“Yes, absent any further dilution, it will,” I replied. “However, fellows, at some point we’re going to be approached to sell the balance of the company. Either to IUC or another major company.”
“You’ve just summed up our exit strategy, Trace,” Will said.
“Agreed,” Wally replied.
“I’m glad you guys agree. It’s the only way for the three of us to cash out and leave the company, and our shareholders, in good stead.”
Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1) Page 8
