"That's awesome! Do you miss it? the excitement of closing a deal?"
"Oh, sometimes. But not enough to give up what Paul and I have."
"So he doesn't get a kick out of things like that?"
"He does, I think, but it's different for him. It's like solving a puzzle to Paul, much more intellectual. For me, it was more emotional, like ... well, I don't know, winning some kind of game, maybe?"
"Ever think about something where you could both get your different kicks from doing the same thing?"
"This is pretty close. I've got the business challenges, and Paul keeps everything working. It suits us."
"Uh-huh. I guess it does."
After several seconds of silence, Kathy stood up. "Thanks for visiting with me; I enjoyed our chat. But I keep thinking about Frank down there snoozing, and it's making me drowsy."
"Have a nice nap," Connie said.
Chapter 16
"Hey! I thought you were going to sleep," Connie said, as Paul joined her in the cockpit, handing her a steaming mug of coffee.
"Changed my mind after Kathy came back below."
She held the mug under her nose and inhaled, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the aroma. "Thanks! I needed this. Why did her going below change your mind?"
"While I was cleaning up after lunch, I overheard her telling Frank she wanted to chat with you, so I thought I'd give you two a little private time. But she came back before I was finished in the galley, and I wasn't really sleepy."
"She said Frank was taking a nap, and that she was headed that way, too," Connie said.
"Yes, she told me the same thing when she came back below. They worked all morning at whatever it is they're doing. Both of them, heads in their computers. Seems like an odd way to spend a vacation, doesn't it?" Paul asked.
"It does to me, but as she said, some customers don't like to wait."
"So what was on her mind, anyway? You didn't talk very long."
Connie shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "She was asking a lot of questions, mostly about my business background."
"That seems odd. Wonder why she was curious about that, all of a sudden?"
"I don't know. It felt almost like a job interview, except that she kept buttering me up. I couldn't figure out where she was going with it, but it sure seemed like she had an agenda of some kind."
"Any focus to her questions? Anything that jumped out at you?"
"Yes, now that you mention it. She was curious about how much selling I'd done. And about how much experience I had in the financial area."
"How did you answer?"
"I just gave her straight answers. Mostly about my time starting the clinic. She wasn't intrusive, or anything, but she was pretty intense."
"Intense seems to describe her in most situations," Paul said. "She keeps her eye on the ball; poor Frank's running to keep up most of the time, I think."
"I'd agree with that. She seems to be the one in charge, at least when it comes to their business."
"Neither of them appears to have any interests outside that," Paul said.
"That's pretty typical of entrepreneurial types, at least the ones that succeed."
"You'd know more about that than I would. It takes a lot of self-confidence to go out on your own. I'd have never gotten into this business if it hadn't been for you."
"It's like anything else; the assurance comes from experience. If you survive your first entrepreneurial spasm, you realize failure isn't terminal."
"Yeah, okay. But where do you get the guts to take the risk in the first place?"
"Desperation," Connie said.
"What?"
"It's not guts. It's desperation. At least it was for me. I think it is for most people who start businesses, at least on some level. I mean, I was desperate to make a living -- basic stuff -- but I've known other people who put everything they had into a business because they were desperate to prove something. There's all kinds of desperation."
"So what about the Lewises? You think they're desperate?"
"I'm surprised you'd even ask. You're the one who commented on how hard they're working while they're supposedly on vacation."
"Well, they did say it was a working vacation," Paul said.
Connie nodded and took a sip of her coffee. "They're missing a glorious sail."
"They surely are. And as best I could gather, they've booked themselves a couple of appointments tomorrow, with the resort and a banker."
"Were you eavesdropping, Lt. Russo?"
"No. They were asking me about taxis and how far apart things were in Antigua, time-wise."
"I see. I thought maybe you were making an extra effort, on account of Johnson."
"No. I told you before, I think the best thing we can do is try to forget about that and just treat them like any other guests. Remember what he said about snooping?"
"It could tip them off," Connie said. "But what do you think about them? Really? Are they up to something?"
"Of course they are," Paul said, grinning at her.
"I thought so, too," Connie said.
"The question is whether they're up to anything that's illegal," Paul said.
Setting her empty coffee mug down, she punched him on the shoulder. "You're teasing me."
"Only a little. I need to ask you something. Tell me the truth, now, okay?"
She cut her eyes over at him. "Maybe. It depends on the question -- and maybe on what's at stake."
"That's fair. If you didn't know about the FBI's interest in them, would you still be suspicious of them?"
She thought for a minute. "You're serious."
"Yes."
"I thought you were about to flirt with me; ask me some inappropriate question."
"Would I do that?"
"A girl can hope."
"They're going ashore tomorrow afternoon, so hold that thought," Paul said. "But for now, answer my question. We'll need to call Johnson tomorrow while they're ashore. Might as well talk it over now."
****
"You said you found something on Contreras," Jansen said, as he slid into the booth. The man had ordered a beer for him, but he pushed it aside.
The man nodded. "That's his real name, in case you care. He's got a record, but it looks like he's clean now."
"What record?"
"Possession with intent."
Jansen shrugged. "Big deal. You called me for that?"
"He was busted with a couple hundred pounds of weed. Went away for almost ten years, because he wouldn't roll over on his connections. He was a gangbanger, got the tats and scars to prove it. Still not interested?"
"It's getting better. You said it looks like he's clean, though."
"Looks like, but ... " the man waited, taking a sip of his drink.
"But what?"
"He runs a gym, supported by a charity of some kind."
"So?"
"So, he's got all these gang kids that hang out there. It could be a cover."
"Was he on anybody's radar?" Jansen asked.
The man shook his head. "No. But he might be, now."
"Is there any way you can slow roll the Bureau's involvement?"
"Probably not. Once I did that records search, it put him on a list. Why?"
"I know some people who might want to talk with him before the Feds spook him."
"You've probably got some time. He's not exactly a high priority. They'll start with a bunch of background stuff, maybe get a warrant for his email and phone if it looks worthwhile. The fact that he and the Barrera woman are emailing might be enough for that, given the warrant for her email. It'll take them a week or two, if they're even interested, unless there's something else about him that gets them excited."
"Okay. I'll pass that along. Anything else?"
"Not much. The Lewises nailed down a meeting with a couple of managers at that resort in Antigua. They're thinking about having some kind of big conference there."
"What kind of conference?"
&
nbsp; "They didn't say. And they also lined up a meeting with some banker there, too. From the emails it sounds like they know him already -- been doing business, looking to expand it soon, that kind of thing."
"I need the details -- who and when."
"It's all here. As much as we got, anyway." The man pushed another microSD card across the table. "Both meetings are tomorrow, by the way, in case you're wanting to send somebody to watch."
Jansen stared at the man, a cold look on his face, until the man began to sweat. Jansen shook his head, and the man looked away. "I didn't mean anything. I -- "
"What I or my client might want to do is not your concern. You just keep the information coming. Understand?"
The man nodded, his head jerking up and down.
Jansen put a $20 bill on the table to cover the drinks and picked up the microSD card. "You did well. Just don't get curious." He slid out of the booth and walked to the door, his beer untouched.
****
"So, did you feel her out?" Frank asked, as Kathy stretched out on the bed beside him.
"Uh-huh."
"Well? What do you think?"
"She's a perfect mark. Little Miss Sunshine, oozing positive vibes all over the place, talks about selling 'win-win' propositions. We could sucker her in a heartbeat."
"What about him?"
"That's still a puzzle. We talked a little about how differently the two of them relate to this business. I mean, this is the place she knows him from, right?"
"I guess so," Frank frowned. "What are you getting at?"
"She's only seen him in this one situation, this business with the boat. I think he's kind of in a supporting role. She's the one that makes things happen, and he picks up after her."
"Sounds familiar," Frank said. "Behind every successful woman, there's a -- "
"Shut up, Frank. You're nothing but a stage hand. Don't get carried away."
"Yeah, yeah. So where does that leave us, anyway?"
"She says he's more analytical in his approach, and she's more emotional when it comes to selling."
"Male versus female, huh?"
She made a fist and landed a solid punch in the muscle on his right shoulder. "Asshole."
He rubbed his shoulder, massaging the knot in the muscle raised by her blow. "Sounds like you're the one buying into the stereotypes."
"There's a reason for stereotypes. They're right most of the time."
"What about this time?"
"She's a successful entrepreneur, Frank."
"You don't know that for sure."
"She's pretty young, and she's managed to buy a million-dollar yacht outright and get this business off the ground. She's got hustler written all over her. Even you can see that."
"How do you know he didn't pay for the boat?"
"A retired cop? Give me a break, Frank."
"He could have inherited money."
"Bullshit. You're pulling my chain."
"I'm trying to rein in your emotions and keep us out of trouble. Or he could have been crooked. Crooked cops can make a lot of money. Cash, too. This would be a good place to hide some dirty cash, buying a boat like this."
"Fuck you, Frank. So, where do you want to go with this, Mister Voice-of-Reason?"
"I think we had it right before. Let's see how they interact with the people from the resort and the bank. It's not like we have to make a decision right this red-hot second, is it?"
No, I'll give you that one. A day or two won't make much difference. We can put it off if you want to."
"I'm just sayin' we shouldn't burn the bridge before we come to it, Kathy."
"Yeah. Go to sleep, Frank."
Chapter 17
"I'm guessing they've gone to their meeting at that resort?" Noah Johnson's voice came from the speaker of Paul's iPhone, which was sitting on the saloon table. Diamantista II was anchored in Parham Sound, a few hundred meters from the resort where Paul had dropped the Lewises off a few minutes earlier.
"Yes," Paul said. "You got that from their emails?"
"I read them last night, and the time looked about right. Besides, I didn't think you'd have me on the speakerphone if they were on the boat with you."
"How did you know we weren't ashore?" Connie asked.
"I'm looking at your location from the GPS in your phone. You're about three quarters of a mile west of an island in Parham Sound. That's the island with the resort. I figured if you weren't on the boat, the phone would be too wet to work."
"That's creepy," Connie said.
"It's a fact of life. There's not much privacy if you want modern conveniences like cellphones. Have you picked up anything from them since we spoke last?"
"Nothing specific," Paul said, "but Connie had an interesting conversation with Kathy late yesterday."
"Tell me about it, Connie."
"It almost felt like a job interview," Connie said, and filled him in on their chat.
"Interesting," Johnson said, when she finished. "It sounds like she's grooming you."
"Grooming?" Connie asked.
"Gathering information and laying the groundwork to set you up for something," Paul said. "I hadn't thought about it that way, but you're right, Noah."
"What would she be setting me up for?"
"Maybe it was a job interview, of sorts," Johnson said. "They told you earlier the purpose of their trip was to scout locations for a conference to recruit or train some sales people, right?"
"Yes."
"The questions she asked you sounded like prescreening for a sales job."
"I didn't think of that at the time. She was pretty smooth," Connie said, "but I see what you mean."
"Do I detect an increased level of suspicion on your part, Noah?" Paul asked.
"Damn, you're good. What tipped you?"
"Context, and the tone of your voice. Anything you can share?"
"Maybe so. You two gave me the information that led to my heightened curiosity."
"When we talked from St. Martin, you mean?"
"Yes. Remember, Connie, what you said about her time in London?"
"You mean my thinking that she'd gotten her doctorate awfully quickly?"
"Exactly. Turns out you were right."
"I was right?"
"She wasn't there long enough to get a doctorate. In fact, as best we can tell, she wasn't there at all."
"Aha!" Connie said. "I knew something was off about her."
"Easy, Connie," Paul said. "She's not the first person to falsify academic credentials. That doesn't make her a criminal."
"No," Johnson said. "You're right, Paul. But when we discovered that her husband didn't go to Harvard either, it piqued my interest."
"I see," Paul said. "That would do it. So, who are they?"
"We don't know, yet. They just appeared in Florida about three years ago. We're still backtracking their identities, but it looks like they're manufactured."
"You mean, they could be anybody? Crooks, killers?" Connie said.
Paul scribbled, "Back off, 'Maria Constanza Velasquez,'” on his notepad and stuck it in front of her. "Using a false identity isn't a crime, in and of itself," he said.
"No. Unless it's used for illegal purposes, that's right," Johnson said. "So far, we don't have evidence of that, but it is suspicious behavior."
"So now what do we do?" Connie asked.
"No change," Johnson said. "We observe and record. I'll be particularly interested if Kathy follows through on trying to recruit you, though, Connie. Don't initiate anything, but if she leads, you follow eagerly, okay?"
"Okay."
"Paul?" Johnson asked.
"Yes?"
"Give Connie a short course in avoiding entrapment, just in case, please."
"Sure. That's simple enough."
"Good. I'm hoping to have more on them soon. Do you think we can find time to have another private call tomorrow?"
"I think so. They're planning to check out another resort here in Antigua tomorrow,"
Connie said.
"Good. Call me when you're free of them. Thanks, folks."
"Entrapment?" Connie asked.
"Let's fix lunch, and I'll tell you all about it, Maria." Paul said, grinning at her.
"You know why I did that. They were trying to kill me."
"Yes, and I don't blame you. For all we know right now, the Lewises have a reason as good as yours."
****
"Four people for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres at 5:30?" Paul said.
"Yes, that's right. Will that be a problem?" Kathy asked.
"No, not at all," Paul, said, moving his phone away from his face long enough to check the time. "That's four in addition to you and Frank, correct?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Okay, any preferences as to what we serve?"
"Oh, no. You've earned my trust on that. Anything else you need to ask? I have people waiting for me."
"Sorry," Paul said. "Do we need to pick you or your guests up in the dinghy?"
"Oh! Good question. Hold on for a second."
Connie shook her head and chuckled as they waited.
"Hey, Paul?" Kathy asked.
"Right here, Kathy."
"The resort will provide a launch, and they say you can call them on VHF channel 68 when our guests are ready to come back ashore. Does that make sense?"
"It makes perfect sense. We'll see all of you about 5:30, then. Thanks for the heads-up."
"Yes. We'll see you then." She disconnected the call.
"What will you serve?" Connie asked.
"I'll cut thin slices of the leftover baguettes from St. Martin and toast them. We've got some tapenade and plenty of cheeses and saucisson sec. You can help me cut up some fruit, and that should do it. We have water crackers if there's not enough bread."
"Sounds good. I can't wait to see these two in action."
"Why do you say that?" Paul asked.
"I'm curious to see how they behave with people they don't perceive as hired help."
"You're still getting that feel from them?" Paul asked, raising his eyebrows.
"From Kathy, mostly. You're not?"
"Not that I've noticed, anyway. But you've spent a lot more time with her. Frank hardly has anything to say."
Sails Job - A Connie Barrera Thriller: The 6th Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Connie Barrera Thrillers) Page 12
