"I know. I just -- "
"Shut up and listen. You kicked a goddam hornets' nest into the fuckin' FBI. You had a mole there you were gonna take care of, right?"
"Yeah. I -- "
"Shut up. They aren't buying the suicide, just so you know. There was some kind of internal investigation already going on because he stuck his nose into that Barrera thing. Turns out she's some kind of undercover agent. The ones they're after are the Lewises. Those are the people we want. Not Barrera and her husband. Okay?"
"Okay. Are you sure about this? Because I've got -- "
"Damn right I'm sure about it. I'm on the oversight committee, remember? It's in my briefing package this morning. Now here's what I want you to do. You listening, boy?"
"Yes."
"Get hold of our favorite contractor. You know who I mean?"
"Yes."
"Have them intercept that damn yacht, but make sure it's out at sea, in international waters. Have them follow it as long as they need to, cost be damned. You with me so far?"
"Yes. Got it."
"They're gonna stop the yacht and pretend to arrest the Lewises, take them into custody, and all their belongings. It needs to look like a legitimate arrest; not some kind of cluster-fuck drug bust. Make sure they understand that. They gotta have a warrant, read 'em their rights, all that shit. Barrera's husband's a cop, remind 'em. He knows how that shit's supposed to go down."
"Right. Got it. Nice clean arrest. What about Barrera and Russo?"
"They aren't to touch them; don't harm a hair on their heads. I don't know who's behind her and him, but whoever it is already turned loose a damn shit-storm when they found out that guy was snoopin' in her files."
"So just let them go once they arrest the Lewises?"
"That's it. Apologize for upsetting them, treat 'em like they're fine, upstanding citizens, thank 'em for their support, that kind of shit, okay?"
"Got it. And what about the Lewises?"
"Get 'em well clear of that yacht -- clean outta sight. Then find out who the hell they are, who they're working for, everything. Probably should hold 'em for a while, too, just to be sure we got everything we can from them."
"Okay. I'll handle it."
"Don't forget to destroy that phone, boy."
"I won't."
****
"Hello, Jorge," Contreras said, as he answered the phone. "Where are you guys?"
"West Palm. We caught a good flight out of L.A. after we dropped you off. We got here about two a.m. local, this morning." He yawned. "Excuse me."
"I guess you haven't been able to do much, then."
"We did the job we talked about. Neither of us was sleepy, and we figured nobody was gonna be in the office at three-thirty, four o'clock. Went straight there from the airport."
"You find anything?"
"Nah. Clean as a whistle. Hard to believe he practices law outta that place. Lots of empty drawers, man. But we left him a little something, you know?"
"Wired for sound?" Contreras said, with a chuckle. "Something like that?"
"Yeah, man. That's why I'm calling. We already got stuff from it. I'll email you an MP3 file in a bit. Miguel's still working on it, trying to clean it up a little. Sounds like it was a cellphone call. We got a nice, clear recording of his side, but we may be able to pull out the other party, too. That's what Miguel's doing. We been listening to it so long, I'm able to pick out a lot of what the other guy's saying, so I thought I'd call you."
"When did the call take place?"
"About eight-thirty, nine o'clock this morning. Phone rang, and our boy answered it. No names, all the way through. And the other guy finished off by telling him not to forget to destroy the phone."
"Ah!" Contreras said. "So just summarize it for me, then."
He listened without interrupting until Jorge was done. "Sounds like they're giving SpecCorp more work, huh?"
"Yeah," Jorge said. "Interesting about Barrera and Russo, though. Who do you suppose they really are? You think they're working for the government?"
Contreras thought for a moment. "Anything's possible in this game, I guess. You said these clowns thought she and her husband were protected by somebody up pretty high. It sure would be nice to know who that was on the other end of the call, speaking of 'up pretty high.'"
"Yeah. Not sure how that could happen, unless we persuade the lawyer to tell us."
"I'm not willing to allow that, Jorge."
"Even after what we did to those other two? I mean, we're already in pretty deep, there."
"Yeah, but that'll never come back to us. Besides, they brought that on themselves. This Jansen, he hasn't threatened any of us. Not personally, like those two did."
"I see what you mean. And technically, we didn't do anything permanent to them."
"Technically. But I doubt they'll make it out of the desert. Still, they'd have done the same, or worse, to me."
"Yeah, okay. He did say something about an oversight committee briefing, though."
"He?"
"The other party on the phone call."
"Hmm. That could mean anything. Or nothing. We need more context."
"Maybe when Miguel's done, we'll get more."
"Maybe. Meanwhile, sit on Jansen. See where he goes, what he's up to. You put a tracker on his car?"
"Yeah. We got him covered."
"Good. Stay in touch. I think I'm coming your way. I'll let you know once I clear it and arrange some transport."
"Good. We'll save you some mosquitos."
"Yeah. Do that. Catch you later."
Chapter 26
Connie was relaxing in the cockpit. The Lewises had left with Sharktooth a few minutes earlier, and Paul was below making a fresh pot of coffee. She was enjoying watching the harbor come to life as the morning sun finally crept over the mountains to the east, burning off the morning mist. Although the sun had been up for a couple of hours, Prince Rupert Bay and Portsmouth were in the shadow of the mountains until mid-morning. Connie always enjoyed watching the shadows recede toward shore during the early mornings here.
The chime of a text message arriving on their satellite phone snapped her out of her reverie. She picked it up and glanced at the screen as Paul came up the companionway ladder with a thermal carafe of fresh coffee and two mugs.
"Who's it from?" he asked, as he put everything on the cockpit table and sat down next to her.
"Noah Johnson." She thumbed the buttons on the phone and held it where they could both read the screen.
"Let's call him, since we have the chance," she said.
Paul nodded as he poured coffee into the mugs. "May as well."
She placed the call and switched the phone to speaker mode as she put it on the table and picked up a steaming mug. Holding it under her nose, she took a deep breath, enjoying the rich aroma of the dark roast coffee.
"Johnson speaking."
"Good morning, Noah. Paul and Connie here," Paul said, as Connie took a sip of the coffee.
"I just sent a text to you."
"Right," Connie said. "We read it and decided to give you a call. The Lewises are off on a snorkeling trip this morning.
"Ah. I thought you'd be sailing south. What's happening?"
"They've got some slack in their schedule, so they decided to enjoy life in paradise for a few hours," Paul said.
"You still on track to become investors in this scheme of theirs?" Johnson asked.
"Yes," Connie said. "The timing's perfect. Kathy's planning to walk us through the whole thing this afternoon. She's going to show me how we can track our account activity, everything. We'll just buy in, once she's done that. You said you were ready on your end."
"Yeah, we're set to monitor everything that happens once the money leaves the account. They'll probably do multiple transactions, but that's okay; we're covered. You said something about tracking your account activity; does that happen online?"
"I think so, from what she said last night. We'll know for
sure this afternoon."
"Good. That probably means a website, with some sort of secure logon. You'll need to send me all of that -- username, password, security questions, PIN, everything she gives you. Make some excuse to do that ASAP; we'll use your access to hack into their site and see what's going on behind the user screens."
"I should be able to get an email off to you while I'm fixing dinner," Paul said. "Kathy usually sits up in the cockpit talking with Connie, and Frank's online, doing whatever he does."
"All right. I'll be here late tonight; in fact, I probably won't make it out of the office for the next day or two. Once the money starts moving, things will get crazy. These deals go really fast when we've got this kind of inside access. We'll owe you two big-time for this one."
"Anything else on the two fake agents in Bakersfield?" Paul asked.
"Nothing. Contreras hasn't shown up yet, and none of the other people around his gym know anything. They aren't exactly the kind of people that are open with law enforcement, you understand."
"Do you think he's all right?" Connie asked.
"I can't say; I'd just be guessing. Apparently, it's not that unusual for him to skip work for a day or two every once in a while."
"How about his home?" Paul asked.
"We're watching; not 'round the clock, but checking on a regular schedule. His car's there, and the woman he lives with is using it, going back and forth to work at some restaurant. From what we've been able to learn, that's pretty typical."
"The coincidence bothers me," Paul said. "I can't help it; this looks suspicious."
"I agree, Paul. It does, but we're stymied. You understand how that works. Charging in there full-bore without knowing more could do more harm than good."
"Yeah, you're right," Paul said. "Was he on parole after he got out of the pen?"
"Good question," Johnson said. "You're thinking his P.O. might be able to tell us something about his hangouts?"
"Could be. Depends on how long it's been, among other things. It was just a thought."
"A damn good one, too. I'll put somebody on it. You haven't lost your touch, detective."
"Sometimes I wish I could."
"Yeah, I'll bet. Don't we all. Once a cop, always a cop."
"Uh-huh. I guess so," Paul said.
"Speaking of that, you still show up in the files as a special U.S. Marshall. You got a warrant card handy?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Just checking our options. If it comes down to it, how would you feel about me emailing you an arrest warrant for the Lewises?"
"Not a problem," Paul said. "Just so you know, I'm not armed, but I don't think that would be an issue with them."
"Well, you never know. I'm surprised, though. I thought you yacht people all carried weapons."
"Some do. It's a big hassle, though, when you clear in and out of different countries as frequently as we do. Most countries impound weapons and ammo while you're in their territory. It's one more headache we don't need. Besides, most of the crooks down here don't have guns, either. Only the really bad guys, and we don't go where they are."
"Good for you. Well, we'll probably handle it from here, but I just wanted to check. You never know what's going to happen in out of the way places like where you guys are. I'll probably have to line up Coast Guard support to arrest them, and fly a couple of Special Agents down from Miami. But it's good to know that you're an option."
"Yeah, that's fine," Paul said. "I can do it if you need me to."
"Great. Well, I need to go. Send me all those access codes as soon as you can."
"Do we need to let you know when we transfer the money?" Connie asked.
"No." Johnson chuckled. "We'll know; don't worry."
"Okay. Catch up with you later," Paul said.
"Stay safe," Johnson said, and disconnected the call.
"I'm worried about Leon Contreras," Connie said. "I've gotten used to the idea that I've got a first cousin. I've been thinking about what you told me about how your uncle had so many of your father's traits. I'd like to get together with him. It would be nice to have a close relative after all this time without one. You think he's okay?"
"Probably. Don't go borrowing trouble, as my mother used to tell me. Let's see what Noah comes up with."
"I know you're right. What say we go for a swim?"
****
Leon Contreras fidgeted with the plastic coffee cup on the tray table in front of him. The coffee had been sour; but he needed the caffeine. The flight was relatively empty. He'd considered indulging in his penchant for brainstorming on paper, but thought better of it. Putting the kinds of things he was thinking in writing was too risky.
He reclined his seat and poked at the switches on the armrest until he got the overhead light turned off. He closed his eyes and began to work through his jumbled thoughts. He was surprised at how protective he felt toward Connie Barrera. Logically, it made no sense. He'd never even met the woman, but somehow his cultivated objectivity was failing him. That wouldn't do; he needed to guard against that.
For all he knew, she could be part of the drug trade. It was his skepticism that kept him alive; he couldn't afford to develop a soft spot for her, no matter how appealing she might be. Still, he'd been relieved by what Jorge had told him a few hours ago. She might or might not be part of a cartel, but at least she didn't appear to be part of the new bunch that was trying to take over South Florida.
Although Jansen had been ordered to leave her and her husband untouched, Contreras knew what happened when outfits like SpecCorp were unleashed. He'd done some research on them after hearing Miguel's comments. It wasn't easy to get information on quasi-legal outfits like them, but he had his sources.
From what he'd gathered, they were among the worst of the shadowy organizations that fielded what amounted to private armies. None of the private security contractors were known for recruiting from Sunday school, but SpecCorp had the reputation of hiring misfits. They had a preference for people who were dishonorably discharged from the military, usually for inappropriate violence.
The more he'd learned about them, the less regret he felt about what he and his men had done to Overton and Willis, or whoever they really were. In spite of Jansen's orders to snatch the Lewises and leave Connie and her husband untouched, SpecCorp's field operatives were a law unto themselves. In the isolation of the open sea, they wouldn't hesitate to exceed the scope of their contract if it suited them.
Contreras shook his head. Protecting Connie wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. He couldn't afford to risk this operation to save one woman. And he didn't even know her, aside from a few brief exchanges. She could well be his next target, once he'd wrapped up this gig. She'd just have to take care of herself.
****
"While you were snorkeling that reef this morning, Paul and I talked some more about investing with you," Connie said.
Paul smiled and nodded when their guests looked at him. "I think we're ready to hear the particulars," he said.
Frank and Kathy sat in the shade of the cockpit awning, sipping chilled white wine and snacking on the platter of fruit and cheese that Paul had put on the table between them.
"Great!" Kathy said.
"What can we tell you?" Frank asked. "Do you have specific questions?"
"Kathy," Connie said, "you said you were going to load some things on your iPad to show me. Maybe that's a good place to start."
"Sure. And I did that, last night. Let me just grab it from our cabin. I'll be right back."
"While she's gone, how much are you thinking about investing to start with?" Frank asked.
"A million," Connie said. "We would plan on picking up some other investors over the next few months to build our syndicate."
Frank nodded, bending to the side to let Kathy resume her place at the table. "That's a solid start," he said, as she set up her iPad on a little easel, turning it so that Connie and Paul could see it.
"How much?" Kathy asked. "I
didn't catch that."
"A million," Paul said.
"Good! That's a nice round number, and it sends a signal to prospective members of your syndicate about your confidence in the program," she said.
"It's timely, too," Frank said. "We've got a hot opportunity opening up in the next few days we could put you into."
"Don't rush them, Frank." Kathy smiled and shook her head, winking at Connie. "He acts like every investment is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This is a particularly attractive situation, but if you miss it, there will always be another one. Don't let him hustle you into something you're not sure about."
"She's right," Frank said, "but the quicker you put your money to work, the sooner you reap the rewards. This one's golden; it's going to pay off like a broken slot machine. Mark my words."
"We could move pretty quickly," Connie said, glancing at Paul. "Should we just -- "
"Not so fast, Connie," Paul said. "Let's see your presentation."
"Well," Kathy said, "it kind of assumes that you're ready to make the commitment. I'm not sure it's fair to be putting a glitzy pitch in front of you if you have doubts." She took the iPad from the easel and turned it so that she could see it. She made a show of flipping through images on the screen, but they weren't visible to Connie and Paul. She was shaking her head. "Maybe not," she said, and put the iPad on the table, face down.
"They're ready, Kathy," Frank said. "Aren't you?"
"Yes," Connie said, watching Paul shaking his head.
"Slow down," Paul said. "I want to hear more about it."
"What can we tell you, Paul?" Kathy asked. "If you're not comfortable, maybe this isn't right for you."
"I'm not sure," Paul said, shaking his head, "but it just seems too quick."
"Timing is everything in this business," Frank said.
"Not if you aren't ready, Frank," Kathy said. "Let's approach it this way." She paused, waiting a few seconds until Connie and Paul were both focused on her. "There are always alternatives when it comes to investing," she said.
Connie and Paul both nodded.
"If you have the kind of money to even be considering this, you've already made some investments. I know you have, Connie. We've talked about that. How about you Paul? Have you done this kind of thing before?"
Sails Job - A Connie Barrera Thriller: The 6th Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Connie Barrera Thrillers) Page 19
