Bluewater Rendezvous: The Eighth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 8)

by Charles Dougherty

  Bluewater Rendezvous

  by C.L.R. Dougherty

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  Copyright © 2015 Charles L.R. Dougherty

  All rights reserved

  Puerto Rico to Dominica

  St. Thomas – St. John

  Antigua

  Les Saintes

  Chapter 1

  "Be careful what you say. I'm sure they're recording this."

  "I love you, Angie. I can't wait to see you, but this whole secrecy thing is nuts. Why can't we just — "

  "Don't say any more. I'm serious. Just follow the instructions that you're going to get. If they don't know where we're meeting, they can't stop us."

  "You think your father doesn't know who I am?"

  "Hush; I don't want to discuss it. It's too dangerous. You have no idea what's going on here, and I can't tell you until I see you. Just trust me, and be there."

  "I don't understand, Angie. It'll be great to have a couple or three weeks together, but then what? When it's over, he'll still be who he is and — "

  "I have to go. You remember how I told you to retrieve the message tomorrow night?"

  "Yes."

  "Then do it. Follow the instructions. Be there. I'll explain it all then." Angela hung up the phone before her resolve failed her.

  She lay in bed, contemplating what she had set in motion. She knew the risks she was running, but she saw no alternative to the course she had chosen. Her father wasn't the only stubborn one in the family, nor was he the only one who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He had, after all, raised her. He was the one who had drawn the battle lines, but he had no idea what he was up against.

  A sliver of her consciousness remembered the joy of being held in his lap while he told her bedtime stories. That part of her hoped that he would change his mind about John Welsh. She knew her hope was futile, though. He'd been explicit in his threat about what would happen if she continued to see John.

  The part of her plans that bothered her the most was that she was putting John at risk. Her father was an old man, and not a nice one. He'd lived the better part of his life; his health was in decline now, anyway. He didn't know the stakes in this game, but that wasn't her problem. He was the one who had taught her to always rig the outcome. She shivered when she thought about all the things that could go wrong. All of them would have dire consequences, but not for her. For her father, for John, for the women who ran the boat — but not for her.

  ****

  Dani sat at the cockpit table, her notebook computer in front of her as she gazed at the boats sailing past out in the Windward Passage. Vengeance swung at a mooring in Hawksnest Bay on the northwest side of St. John.

  "You look lost in thought," Liz said, putting two steaming mugs of coffee on the table and sitting down across from her friend. "What's on your mind?"

  Dani shook her head and reached for the mug in front of her. She focused her eyes on the cup as she lifted it to her face, pausing to inhale the luscious aroma before she took a sip. "Thinking about the new charter tomorrow," she said, still not looking Liz in the eye.

  Liz didn't say anything, and after a moment, Dani looked at her and nodded at the open laptop.

  "Email from my mother," Dani said.

  Liz nodded, thinking for a moment. "You hardly ever hear from her."

  "Thank God," Dani said.

  Liz made no comment. She and Dani had been friends since before they bought Vengeance, but Dani had never said much about her mother. Liz knew all about J.-P. Berger, Dani's father, and his wife Anne. They had spent time on Vengeance early in her days with Dani, and Liz was fond of them. J.-P. and Anne had treated her like family once they learned that she had no living relatives, and Liz had responded in kind to their affection. She had wondered about Dani's mother since then. She refrained from asking because she knew there was some tension in that relationship. She assumed it stemmed from Dani's departure from her mother's family's investment banking business in New York. Curious, but not wanting to pry, she said, "Mm."

  Looking out at the passing boats again, Dani said, "She wasn't happy when I took off to go sailing full-time. Not what she had in mind for me."

  "You hated working in finance," Liz said. That was a safe topic; both of them had jobs in the financial arena right out of university and neither found the work rewarding.

  "That didn't matter to her. She's the fourth generation in her family to have a partnership in the bank. Her great-grandfather was one of the founders."

  "You said before that it was a family business," Liz said. "It's not surprising that she would want you to be part of it."

  "No. No, it's not. In fact, she and her partners had a succession plan all worked out. Me, my brother — "

  "Your brother? You've never — "

  "No, I know. My half-brother, actually. She remarried not long after she and Papa split up."

  Liz nodded and took a sip of her coffee.

  "Anyway," Dani continued, "it was all set, in her mind. The two of us and my fiancé were supposed to carry the firm into its second century."

  Liz's jaw dropped. "You were engaged?" she asked. "I'm sorry, but ... "

  Dani smiled at Liz's surprise. "That's okay. Yes. I kind of left him at the altar when I took off to crew on Ramblin' Gal."

  "I never would have guessed that you once considered marriage. I mean, I know, someday, but ... "

  "Yes. Someday, but I'm in no hurry. They railroaded me into that situation, as the saying goes in the States. Nobody quite got around to asking me; it was just kind of assumed that I'd go along with the flow."

  "Either you've changed a lot since then or they didn't know you too well. I can't imagine you 'going along with the flow' if it didn't suit you."

  "My mother never spent any time with my brother or me. She didn't know either of us well. She and her cronies mistook silence for consent. I let them mislead themselves until I had my escape sorted out."

  "Was your fiancé ... "

  "His uncle's one of the current partners; he was another legacy participant. Not a bad person, but kind of a gutless wimp, just like Rollie."

  "Rollie?"

  "Sorry. My half-brother."

  Liz took a sip of coffee. Dani closed the laptop and said, "I need to service the diesel before dinner. Thanks for listening."

  "Any time," Liz said. "I need to check in with Elaine about this next charter; she was expecting to get the details of the pickup this afternoon."

  "I thought it was going to be here," Dani said.

  "Right. It is. We just need the specifics — don't worry."

  ****

  Giuseppe 'Joe Bones' Bruni studied his manicured fingernails as he listened to Guido Cappelletti. The older man was rambling on about the importance of cooperative effort. Guido was a throwback; he started his career by picking up and delivering betting slips for the mob when he was eight years old. He had advanced through the organization because of his ruthless intensity. Now, sixty years later, he was running things, but to Joe Bones and his Ivy League contemporaries, the Don was an anachronism. Joe Bones tuned in as the old man said, "The days for guys like me are past. You and Mickey and the others are the future. Don't think I can't see that."

  Joe Bones couldn't believe what he'd just heard; he wondered if he had dropped off to s
leep and dreamed it. "Wait, Don Guido — "

  "No. I'm too old to wait. You listen; show me respect, even if it's just 'cause I raised your old man from the gutter."

  Joe Bones clenched his teeth, but he nodded, and the old man resumed.

  "The problem you boys got is that there's still a buncha the guys in the middle who think that me an' the other old farts run things the right way. You move too quick, an' there'll be a blood bath. They don't teach you 'bout goin' to the mattresses at Harvard an' Yale. Lots of the old soldiers would come after you boys if we flipped a switch tomorrow and put you in charge."

  "They'd lose. We're tougher than they think," Joe Bones said.

  "Maybe," Guido said. "For sure, there'd be blood in the streets, and that's bad for business. We don't need a damn shooting war." The old man worked a toothpick around in his mouth as he watched Joe Bones holding his tongue. After a moment, he said, "Good for you for listening. You're a smart boy. Your day's coming, and sooner than you think. I got a plan for how we gonna do this, smooth-like."

  "I'm listening, Don Guido."

  "It's gonna be the time-honored way. You wanna be the king, you gotta have a queen. You capisce?"

  "I'm not sure. I — "

  "You're single, Giuseppe. You want to be the head of the family, you got to be married. You got a girl?"

  "Not one I'd marry."

  The old man nodded. "That's good. I got a girl for you."

  Joe Bones swallowed hard; he could see what was coming. He hadn't expected this, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. "Angela?" he asked, stalling for time.

  Guido nodded, working the toothpick around as he watched Joe Bones's face. "My baby girl. You marry her, give me some grandchildren, and before you know it, the old Mustache Petes will be kissing your ring instead of mine. That's the way we gonna do it. Nice and easy, family-like, see. No guns, no blood."

  "What if I had been engaged already, Don Guido?"

  "You won't say no to me; you're a smart boy, a good boy. 'Yes' is your answer, isn't it?"

  Joe Bones clenched his teeth again, but he nodded. He remembered what had happened when his father crossed the old man all those years ago. "Of course it is, Don Guido. I'm honored. I would have never had the nerve to ask for Angela's hand, but you make me a happy man."

  "I'm glad, Giuseppe. I knew you wouldn't ask. It would have been too pushy, but I know you'll take good care of her. An old man worries about his daughter, you know? I wouldn't want nothin' to make her unhappy, and I know you'll treat her right. I'm gonna rest a little now, but we gonna talk more soon. Meanwhile, you keep those hotheads of yours quiet. We don't want my Angela to be a widow before she even gets married."

  ****

  Dani and Liz were sipping wine and picking at a platter of cold cuts at the cockpit table. The pastel colors of the reflected sunset faded from the white, fluffy clouds. Dani put her glass down and dipped a carrot stick in the bowl of curried yogurt. "You didn't mention whether you talked with Elaine," she said, before she took a bite and picked up her wine glass.

  "Yes. I meant to tell you earlier, but you were head-down in the engine compartment, and then I got distracted by dinner."

  "So what's the deal?"

  "It's weird."

  "Trouble with the fee?"

  "No, nothing like that. I mean, she got the deposit by wire. We're covered for up to a month, with a two-week minimum. It's the pickup arrangements that are odd. We're supposed to meet our guest at the fuel dock in Redhook Bay at 7:15 a.m. tomorrow."

  "At 7:15? They won't even be open. And just one guest? I thought there was a couple."

  "Right. Elaine said the woman would be waiting. She doesn't want us to tie up to the dock; just touch and go. She'll step aboard with her bag, and we're supposed to leave immediately."

  "Something strange is going on, all right. There's no guy?"

  "The woman — Carlotta Solanó — will tell us where to pick up the man."

  "This makes me a little nervous," Dani said. "Did Elaine verify who this Carlotta woman is?"

  "Yes. She faxed Elaine the first page of her passport."

  "Well, I guess we can take a look at it when she boards. Anything else?"

  "Yes. All the arrangements were made by a third party — even the payment. And Elaine said it got even stranger. The guy asked to be remembered to you in particular."

  "Who was he?" Dani was frowning.

  "Somebody named Ralph Suarez. You know him?"

  Dani's eyebrows lifted in surprise, wiping the frown from her face. "Yes. Raphael Angel Suarez y Sanchez."

  "Who's he?"

  "Remember the commander of the detachment of Venezuelan marines in St. Lucia? When we had those people aboard making a documentary about Voodoo?"

  "He's the guy you, um, ... or ... him?"

  "Yes," Dani said, smiling at Liz's stammering.

  "You never told me whether you ... he ... "

  "No, that's right. I didn't."

  Chapter 2

  While Liz was cleaning up the galley after their dinner, Dani sat in the cockpit pondering their upcoming charter. She chuckled to herself at Liz's reaction to the Ralph Suarez thing. She'd been dying to know if Dani had slept with him that evening in St. Lucia. It suited Dani to keep such details to herself, even though there was little that she didn't share with Liz. It was just her nature to keep such things private.

  Liz's curiosity aside, Dani wondered what Suarez was up to. She hadn't thought of him since they put that ill-fated charter behind them. Now he was sending them business and asking to be remembered to her. He had some roots in the U.S., even though he was serving in the Venezuelan armed forces. He had been no fan of his government back then. Was he still in their service? If he was, was this charter an official venture of some sort, or was it personal with him?

  She wasn't worried either way; he'd been helpful back then, and she had no reason to think he intended them harm now. Still, the situation was odd. He had told her something about American cousins on his mother's side of the family, but she couldn't remember the details. His family background wasn't relevant to her needs back then.

  "Where's that smile coming from?" Liz asked, interrupting Dani's woolgathering. She set two small brandy snifters on the table and sat down across from Dani.

  "Was I smiling?" Dani inhaled the fruity aroma wafting from the snifters. "Shrub?"

  Liz nodded. "The last of that bottle we picked up in Ste. Anne." Shrub was a generic term for the potent, rum-and-fruit-based liqueurs from Martinique. Every person on the island had a recipe handed down through generations. "You looked far away."

  "I was just wondering about our new guests."

  Liz raised her snifter and took a tiny sip. "Wonder how your friend, Ralph, figures in this?"

  "There's no way to guess that. I imagine we'll find out, eventually. If it was some dark secret, he wouldn't have told Elaine to give me his message. I was more curious about this couple. I keep imagining scenarios to explain the odd pickup."

  "Me, too," Liz said. "It sounds mysterious and romantic, doesn't it?"

  "Not to me. I think it sounds like somebody's on the run."

  "On the run? You mean, like, criminals?"

  "Honest people don't usually take so much trouble to cover their tracks," Dani said.

  "You have a paranoid streak, sometimes."

  "It's served me well so far."

  "But isn't it more fun to put a romantic spin on things?" Liz asked.

  Dani grinned. "Fun's where you find it, I guess. We'd better get some sleep. We'll have to leave here just after sunup to make our pickup."

  "I thought you were going to call your mother this evening."

  "Damn! You're right. Thanks for reminding me. It had conveniently slipped my mind."

  ****

  Angela said, "No, Papa. I haven't given any thought to marriage. I just want to have a little fun." She and her father had just finished dinner. He sat at the head of the table, and she sat on the side
, just to his right. She was surprised that he'd wanted dinner in the formal dining room, with its table for 24 people. Now she understood. He always handled family matters in here.

  "But Angie, remember how your grandpa loved you?"

  "What's that got to do with it?"

  "When you were born, he was younger than I am now. I — "

  "Wait a minute! You want me to get married so you can have a grandchild?"

  "Well, not just — "

  "It's all about you, isn't it? It always has been. You never care what I want."

  "Angie, that's not so. Think of how nice it would be to have a baby; all women want children."

  "Not me, Papa. Not now. Babies are sticky and messy, and they smell up the house. Besides, it would ruin my figure."

  "You'd look good with some meat on your bones."

  "Like hell!"

  "Angela! I've told you, ladies don't use that kind of ... "

  "Fuck you, Papa. You don't know shit about ladies."

  The sound of the slap reverberated from the plastered wall of the dining room. He hadn't hit her hard, but Angela was stunned, nonetheless. She didn't remember her father ever having hit her.

  "You will show respect to me. Your mother and I know what is best."

  She looked at him. Fright mingled with loathing in her wide-eyed stare.

  When she didn't say anything, he spoke again. "You're 25 years old; it is time for you to settle down. You go to St. Thomas tonight, like we said; you enjoy the villa. Take some of those magazines with the wedding dresses in them. When you come back, we will set the date."

  "But Papa?" Her voice trembled.

  "What, my baby girl?"

  "I'm not even engaged."

  "Yes, you are. It is all arranged. Within a couple of weeks after you come back, you will be Mrs. Giuseppe Bruni."

  "Joe Bones!?"

  "You will never call him that again. Only our men call him that. From anyone else, it is a lack of respect."

  "But, Papa, ... "

  "Yes?"

  "I don't ... um ... "