Hawaiian Thunder (Coastal Fury Book 4)

by Matt Lincoln

  “Try yours,” I told Holm.

  He did, and the same thing happened.

  “What the hell?” He tried flipping the card around a couple ways. “This is the right room.”

  “Yeah.”

  I knocked. “Maybe Meisha set the lock weird.”

  Heavy footsteps stomped toward the door. That wasn’t Meisha or Davis. Holm and I backed away from the door.

  “What d’you want?” a low, growling voice demanded from inside.

  “We’re here to make sure your arrival was pleasant,” Holm improvised. “We’d like to do a customer satisfaction review.”

  The lock clicked, and a beefy man wearing nothing more than pajama pants swung the door open. His jowls trembled as he looked us over. Further into the room, another person ran to the bathroom while covered in a sheet.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” the man bellowed. Veins stood out at the sides of his neck as his face went deep red. “I left instructions to not disturb me or my wife for any reason until morning.”

  I pulled out my phone and tapped at the blank screen.

  “Oh, dear,” I sputtered. “I am so sorry. Our followup is supposed to be down the hall. I reversed the room numbers.”

  “You idiot,” Jowls spat. “I’ll see you lose your job for this.”

  He slammed the door and thudded away.

  “I’ll see they make sure he doesn’t have a prostitute in there,” Holm muttered.

  As we walked back to the elevators, I tried to get Meisha on the phone, but all I got was a busy signal. Next, I tried Davis. It rang twice.

  “Ethan, thank God,” Meisha exclaimed. She muttered to someone in the background. “I finally got Kyle here and was just going to call you. My phone service got turned off.”

  “What’s going on here?” I demanded. “Where’s our stuff? Where are you?”

  “I got a room, but it was the only one available. We moved your things to this room, but we’re still sorting out this mess.” She told me a room number, which was two floors up and at the opposite end of the building. “I’ll explain when you get here.”

  Holm and I got to the new room to find everyone but Little Jo and Stark piled in. Our bags and suitcases were neatly stacked on the bureau. I recognized Stark’s paisley luggage set as well. Meisha sat on a bed alone with her balled fists on her thighs. Her nostrils flared with each breath.

  “First, my department phone got cut off,” she growled. “Next, the hotel gets a hold of Kyle to let him know that we have to clear out of the rooms paid for by MBLIS. My agency card was cut off today, and the hotel couldn’t charge it.” She seethed and let out a sigh through her teeth. “This room is on my dime, and you better believe I’m going to the agency to refund it. Kyle and TJ are worked to get my phone back on, and Diane is trying to find out from her end what the hell is going on.”

  “When did all of this happen?” Holm asked in astonishment.

  Davis swiveled back and forth on the desk chair at the other end of the room. “About an hour after you left, as far as I can tell.” Meisha nodded, and Davis continued. “My phone account is in my name, so it’s not getting cut off any time soon. Since they couldn’t get ahold of Meisha, they eventually called to tell me they couldn’t charge anything to her card.”

  Meisha narrowed her eyes. “Why bother offering me this position when they knew it wasn’t going anywhere? I can’t think of a damn thing I’ve done to screw this up or to piss off the brass. I ran a tight West Coast office and really thought this new office launch was a… a reward of some sort. But all they’ve done ever since is screw us over.”

  This tied so deep into what Admiral Farr tried to tell me weeks earlier that a chill coursed through me. Someone wanted to hurt MBLIS, and they knew where to hit. It had nothing to do with Ronnie’s case and everything to do with something bigger.

  “It’s not you,” I told her. “I don’t know who is behind this, but I will find out. We will find out.” I sat next to Meisha. “You’re an ass-kicker, and you’re going to have the best team in the Pacific. All we have to do is figure this out.”

  “Is that all?” Meisha asked with heavy sarcasm.

  “Got it,” Warner called out. He was at the desk in an armchair since Davis had stolen the chair with the wheels. “It looks like a glitch shut down the Honolulu accounts. Nothing else should be affected by it, though, because it’s only been a few hours.” He looked up. “Oh hey, Marston and Holm.”

  Holm and I shared a glance. Warner had finally dropped the title “Agent” when addressing us.

  “How did a ‘glitch’ like that happen?” Meisha demanded. “Better yet, how do we keep it from happening again?”

  Warner fidgeted in the armchair. “I don’t know yet.” That got my attention. Warner almost always had something, anything to avoid an “IDK” moment, as he often called it. “I’m calling it a ‘glitch’ only because I haven’t pinpointed the cause. Normally, I’d blame user error, but not in this case. It’s something I’ve never seen before.”

  Davis’s phone chimed. He glanced down and huffed a little. “I’m making my call in ten minutes,” he reminded us. “Whatever we do, it’ll be based from here.” He handed key cards to Warner, Holm, and me. “Meisha’s covering this room. Do not raid the minibar.”

  I held my card to my chest. “I would never. Well, not to Meisha. Next time, MBLIS owes all of us drinks, though.”

  “Funny, Marston,” Meisha said as she rolled her eyes. “Bonnie, Jo offered to let you stay with her. Abbie is staying with me.” She wagged her finger at the three of us assigned to the hotel room. “Stay out of trouble and mind your p’s and q’s tonight.”

  “What does that even mean?” Warner asked. “I mean, I get your message, but ‘p’s and q’s’?”

  “I have no idea where the expression came from,” I admitted as I checked my wristwatch. “We’ll have to look it up later. It’s time for Davis to make his call.”

  Davis stood and went next to the window. Everyone in the room went still as he typed in the phone number from his card. He made a round of eye contact with the rest of us. Meisha and I nodded at the same time, and Davis hit SEND.

  He fiddled with a pen and small notepad as he waited for his call to be answered. For a long moment, I worried that nothing would happen. As he was about to give up, someone answered. I couldn’t hear since he wasn’t about to put it on speakerphone, and we didn’t have the equipment to all jack in to the call.

  “This is Letts,” Davis said when the call was answered. “Yes, there is an exchange that needs to happen… Indeed… I heard about you from a friend who is to remain anonymous.” Davis paused and then laughed. “True. Discretion plays a vital role to success, particularly given my specialty… I will do that when we meet… Ah, I see. Of course, you must take precautions.” Davis wrote on his notepad. “Thank you, sir. Dasvidania.”

  Davis ended the call and looked at our expressions. “Yeah. He’s Russian. TJ, see what you can find on Russians in the antique business in Hawaii. If you don’t get me, cross-reference the home states from the list of buyers and sellers.”

  “Yes, sir.” Warner set to it on his laptop.

  “This guy is smart,” Davis told us. “He wants to meet us separately at first. Tomorrow.” He met my eye. “We need to have our stories synced perfectly, but from our separate points of view. If he likes us, we’ll meet the day after tomorrow.”

  I cut a look to Holm. His fists were clenched and lips pressed tight. God, I wanted to move faster, but there was nothing I could do to change that.

  “Robbie…”

  Holm shook his head and then stalked out of the room. He slammed the door behind him, and then I heard the door to the stairs slam down the hall.

  “Shit,” Meisha whispered.

  “Should… should someone go after him?” Warner asked in a small voice. “Agent Marston?”

  “It’s probably best to leave him alone.” I dropped onto a bed and stared at the ceilin
g. We were getting to the point I couldn’t imagine reaching. If we didn’t get her back soon, we might never see Ronnie Holm alive again.

  CHAPTER 22

  It was my turn for a call with our so-called appraiser. The room quieted, and I stayed by the window, as Davis had done, to make sure the call didn’t drop. One thing I did differently was to have music on in the background. It wasn’t too loud, but not too quiet, either. I worked into character for a minute before placing the call. The moment the burner phone ticked to twelve minutes after five, I hit SEND. It rang three times.

  “Yes.” The single word sounded like an order.

  “Yeah, hi.” I aimed for casually anxious. “So, I got this number from a guy who said you can help us get an appraisal or something.”

  “‘Or something’?” The speaker did indeed have a Russian accent.

  “You know, I need help making a sale. My buddy and me…”

  “Yes, yes, yes. I understand.” Definitely Russian. Definitely annoyed. Good. “I have rules you follow. We meet tomorrow. No weapons, no recording, no phone.”

  “Dude, how do I get the location if I don’t have my phone?”

  “Идиот.” I knew enough Russian to get that he was calling me an idiot. He continued, “Leave phone in car. Is not difficult. We discuss sale, we meet the day after to appraise.”

  “Can’t we do the sale tomorrow?” The disappointment in my voice was not fake. “I’m kinda in deep shit—”

  “My rules or no sale.” He swore in Russian under his breath. “You are most difficult, Alec James Dalton. I will not give you another opportunity. No weapons, no recording devices, no phone.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said in a subdued tone. Alec Dalton, a spoiled trust fund thirty-something was a man-child who wouldn’t have noticed that the Russian had used his middle name, information we had not given to Jones. “I’ll do what you say.”

  “This is better.” He sounded somewhat mollified. “Park at Children’s Hospital at nine in the morning. Be alone.”

  “Okay. Is Mr. Letts going to be there? He hasn’t called or anything.”

  “Just you. Is precaution. Goodnight.”

  The Russian ended the call before I could do anything else to annoy him. I tossed the phone onto the bed and shook my head.

  “Was it the Russian guy?” Davis asked.

  “Yeah. If he’s not the boss, he’s close.”

  “I need a drink,” Davis said, “which won’t happen until I get home. Let’s figure this shit out before it goes up in flames.”

  I took the rolling desk chair now that it was unoccupied. “Did he use your cover’s middle name?”

  Davis shook his head. “I take it he did with yours?”

  At my nod, Warner half stood from his armchair but then plopped down.

  “The cover is as solid as I could get with so little time and without my usual equipment.” Warner picked at the edge of his seat. “I’ll get someone in Miami to throw more layers at the covers. We got most of it in place, but if this guy likes deep dives, we need to shore it up. I mean, what I did from here is good, but—”

  “Easy, TJ,” Meisha interjected. “Your work is solid. Diane swears by your skills. Go ahead and have Cyber build more into their covers. Make sure there are arrows pointing to Dalton’s predilection for hiring prostitutes.” An evil grin grew as she spoke. “Add an arrest or two for possession. No convictions, but a little trouble couldn’t hurt.”

  “The unsub has already done his homework,” Davis pointed out. “Don’t go overboard, or he’ll notice that some of that stuff wasn’t there before.”

  “I know, I know,” Warner answered. “Director Griezmann, I need to get back to my equipment at your office.”

  Bonnie stirred. She’d been reading a book about forensic ecology, and I wasn’t sure how much she’d listened to in the past hour.

  “Josephine should be ready to let us back in soon,” she told us. “The chlorine leak was small, barely present, and the HAZMAT crew should’ve had it in hand a couple hours ago.”

  “Wait, what?” I stared at Bonnie and Meisha. “What chlorine vapor?”

  Bonnie set her book on the bed. “One of the bullets nicked a box in the lab. They checked it last night. It seemed fine, but there was a slow leak.”

  “I smelled it when I got there this morning,” Warner complained. “I still don’t know if it damaged my equipment… What?”

  Davis cleared his throat after chuckling. He waved off the question, and Warner’s ears went red. We had more blushing beauties than we could handle. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes, though.

  “Bonnie, you’re not helping over there because why?” I asked with more snark than warranted.

  “They bounced me.” She shrugged. “The HAZMAT team said that since it wasn’t my lab, I had no authority to be there. Jo had things in hand, so I left her to it.” She looked around the room. “I ended up back here in time to help move our things from the other rooms.”

  “Speaking of, where’s my hard-sided case?” I asked. Meisha pointed, and I nodded. “Thanks.”

  The lock on my suitcase was still intact. I trusted everyone in that room, but I needed to check. Meisha moved to give me some room as I laid the case onto the bed. When I opened it, I found the extra ammo boxes and my Ka-Bar combat knife secure in its sheath. Holm’s and my gun cases were untouched, while Stark had already locked hers up at the office. She’d get it out again once her hand healed.

  “Satisfied?” Davis asked with half a smile. “Your toys are all there.”

  “I don’t like other people moving my gear around,” I admitted. “You all did what was needed, and I appreciate it.”

  I closed the suitcase and set it on the floor next to the bed.

  “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Davis wanted to know. “This guy’s going to look for any little tell he can find. Like I said, our stories have to match. We can not blow this.”

  We spent the next hour rehashing the story from the Letts and Dalton perspectives both. They had to match on the most important points, but they also had to vary the same way any story with two or more sides varied. Our job was to weave it just right so the Russian would see the “truth” in the middle. From there, he should be able to determine the best item to post as a Letts “family heirloom” and how to conduct the sale with Jones.

  Toward the end, I had a question for Davis. “Any chance your pal Jerry won’t freak out if I keep the car for the night?”

  Davis sighed. “I’ll promise to put it in my garage, but I won’t call until after the sun goes down. He doesn’t like his ‘babies’ to be driven in the dark. If he asks, we got distracted by a game of poker and forgot to keep an eye on the time. He likes poker, so he won’t be too upset.”

  Meisha raised a brow. “How much is this car costing us?”

  “It’s not.” Davis shifted in his seat. “Jerry got into a little trouble a while back. I saw that he was a decent guy who got mixed up with some dipsticks with dealings in Cuba. I helped get him out of trouble, and he’s helped me out ever since.”

  Meisha turned to me. “That reminds me of Dollar Store. How’s he doing?”

  “Don’t know.” I pressed my lips together for a moment. “We haven’t heard from him since the hurricane that hit Grand Bahama. He’s not the sharpest tack in the box, but he knows not to screw around when the big hurricanes get going.”

  “Who the hell is Dollar Store?” Davis asked with a slight smirk. “Sounds like a third-rate informant.”

  “First and a half,” I answered. “He’s annoying and doesn’t take enough showers, but he comes through for us when we least expect.”

  I didn’t feel the need to add that we could pop Dollar Store at any given time for weed. I didn’t like dealing with paperwork for stuff that was almost legal anyway. The Store’s intel was way too valuable for that.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Sadie.

  Got off shift, she wrote. Want food?

  Stand by, I
texted back.

  “What’s everyone doing for dinner?” I asked the group.

  “You guys are on your own,” Bonnie said. “I’m going to take Abbie over to Meisha’s house. She can’t wait, and I want dinner.”

  I snorted into a laugh. “She hasn’t met your mom yet, has she, Meisha?”

  “Watch it, Marston. Everyone loves my ma.”

  Davis gave a serious nod. “That woman can bake a mean German chocolate cake.”

  “Dutch apple pie,” Warner said in a dreamy tone.

  “How do you know her?” Meisha demanded. “We left before you moved to Ethan’s team.”

  “She brought extras to us in Cyber. She didn’t want you to make a fuss about it because she was already bringing stuff in for you. Your mom is the best. We all miss her.”

  Meisha laughed. “I’ll tell her to leave you a pie in the break room freezer. If anyone messes with it, they’ll answer to my old partner.” She brightened. “I’ll have Mom make a pie for Lamarr, as well. He can eat one fresh and keep yours at his house.”

  “How long will she be in Miami?” I asked. “It’d be a shame to cross paths without saying hi.”

  “She’s getting ready for that listing. It depends on how long it takes for the new flooring in. And a new look in the pink bathroom.”

  Warner looked thoughtful, and a smile appeared. I was about to ask why when he turned to his laptop and tuned us out. Letting it go, I moved on with more important matters.

  “Sadie asked about getting food. You all seem to have plans, but I’m putting it out there. Anyone interested?” Yeah, I hoped not, but I didn’t want to seem like an ass and not ask.

  Davis laughed. “I don’t think she’s asking the group, Marston. Does she have a garage? Because I’m telling you now, that car better get back to Jerry in pristine condition.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” I admitted. “I can take it to your house and have Sadie pick me up there. I don’t get the feeling that she’d care either way about a car like that. Hell, it might be a turnoff for her.”