Ring of Lies

by Howard, Victoria

  The voice on the other end gave a dry chuckle. ‘See you around, Jack. I’m counting on you.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Jack. Lost in thought, he stared out of the window at the trees swaying in the light breeze. He wasn’t worried about the Suárez family or the fact that one of their number had chosen now to come after him. He was more concerned with the lies Catherine had told and what it would do to Grace when she found out.

  Pain showed in his eyes and in the tight lines around his mouth. The fax machine in the corner whirled into life. The cover sheet informed him the contents were privileged information. He flipped the page. The tech guys had done their best to enhance the photo taken from the airport security cameras. Even so, the image was very poor quality. He folded the fax and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans.

  No time to waste.

  Game on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Catherine tossed her blonde hair out of her eyes, and padded over to the coffee machine. ‘What time is it? My watch has stopped,’ she asked, and helped herself to a cup.

  ‘Eight-thirty.’ Grace looked up from the slice of toast she was buttering. She arched an eyebrow and skimmed her gaze over her sister. Her thin pink T-shirt clung to her curves and barely reached the top of her thighs.

  ‘My God, is that all? My body clock must be really screwed. Where’s Jack?’

  ‘Right here,’ he said, entering the kitchen.

  Grace burned Catherine with a look that said aren’t you the slightest bit ashamed of how you’re dressed? Catherine missed the admonishment, or ignored it. Instead she smiled broadly at Jack, clearly inviting him to see what she wasn’t wearing. She leaned back against the counter and crossed her long, shapely legs at the ankles.

  ‘Don’t mind me. Just carry on as if I’m not here.’

  Grace buried her head in her hands. ‘My God, Catherine…’

  ‘What?’ said her sister, feigning innocence. ‘I was just saying good morning. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘It’s just—look at you—not what you’re saying, but how you’re saying it.’ She crumpled her napkin and turned away.

  Jack laid a hand on her shoulder and addressed Catherine, his eyes never leaving Grace. ‘Grace and I have to go out. Stay in the house, away from the windows.’

  ‘What for?’ said Catherine.

  ‘There’s an agent posted outside. You’ll be quite safe.’

  ‘You could at least tell me why. Anyway, it’s a pity you’re leaving. I was hoping you’d demonstrate the finer points of close protection to me.’ She laughed, and slanted Jack another look from under her lashes.

  ‘Thanks. But no.’

  Catherine gave him a long smouldering look, then smirked. ‘Your loss. But if you should change your mind, you know where I am.’

  Grace frowned. ‘Stop it, Cat!’ She collected the breakfast dishes and dropped them on the counter, smashing a plate in the process.

  ‘I’m only kidding. You know that, right, Jack?’

  Grace slammed her hand down on the table. ‘You are not kidding and you don’t give a damn about me, do you? I should have seen this before. I’ve been so blind.’

  ‘Oh lighten up, sister dear. I’m just playing—’

  ‘Life’s one big joke to you, Cat. You don’t understand how serious this situation is.’

  ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Grace. I’m sick to death of your righteous sister act. Look, I’ll be out of your way in a few days, and then you can go back to your boring life.’ With that, she stomped out of the room.

  Grace slumped against the counter, head bowed.

  ‘Don’t let her get to you,’ Jack said.

  ‘We used to be the best of friends years ago, but now—she’s changed. I hardly know her anymore. I don’t know her anymore.’

  ‘She travels a lot. Even family can grow apart.’

  ‘It’s more than that, Jack. It’s as if Cat’s jealous, not that she has reason to be. After all, she fulfilled her dream to go to university and have a career, while I’m just a dreary housewife.’

  His hand tightened over hers. ‘No you’re not. Catherine takes you for granted, which is a really shitty thing to do. Let it go for now, Grace. We have to get going. I want to have another chat with Jacobs’ secretary.’

  ‘You mean Mercy?’

  ‘Yep. I need to see if I can get access to his files. We can’t lose sight of our mission, Grace. I know you’re upset—you have a right to be. Just not right now. Put it on a skyhook. Know what I mean?’

  Grace died her eyes with her napkin and nodded. ‘Sometimes, Mr. West, you actually make sense.’

  He grinned. ‘I’ll try not to make a habit of it.’

  The drive into Boca Grande took less than five minutes. He turned off the ignition and looked across the sidewalk to the front door of Seaplane Charters.

  ‘It doesn’t look as if anyone is home,’ Grace said.

  ‘The office is at the back, remember?’

  ‘And if Mercy’s not there?’

  ‘Then we’ll ask around. Find out where she lives.’

  ‘You can just ask? Won’t people say no?’

  ‘It’s the way you ask,’ Jack said. He got out and walked round to open the passenger door for Grace. ‘I can be very persuasive. Trust me.’

  ‘I do.’

  His hand rested lightly on her back. ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  She smiled and nodded.

  They walked around the back of the building. He turned the doorknob, but it was firmly locked. He rapped sharply on the wooden frame. A loud bang came from within followed by a curse. Jack tensed, ready to push Grace to one side. The door opened and Mercy slowly shuffled out.

  ‘Hi, Mercy, may we come in?’ said Jack.

  ‘Hi, Mr. West, Mrs. Lattide. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I’d like to ask you some questions,’ he said showing her his ID card and shield.

  Mercy’s eyes widened. ‘FBI? Why are you interested in Mr. Jacobs?’

  ‘Pete Jacobs’ and Mr. Lattide’s death are somehow connected. I’d like to see Pete’s flight logs.’

  Mercy played with her hair. ‘He was such a nice man. He didn’t deserve to die like that.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘The files belong to Mr. Jacob’s wife now. I guess you could say she’s still his wife. They had some problems. I don’t know if I should even be saying that.’

  Jack drew in a breath. ‘Mercy, listen to me. I can get a court order, but that will take time. Three people are dead, including Jacobs. Do you really want to be responsible for putting more lives at risk?’

  Mercy stiffened. ‘Well, no of course not.’ She glanced at Grace, her brown eyes full of sadness. ‘Come on through to the office. Pete’s filing system isn’t what you’d call organized.’

  Jack patted her forearm. ‘Thanks, Mercy. You’re doing the right thing.’

  Jack and Grace followed her along the corridor into the office. Two filing cabinets stood on the back wall opposite the large window that overlooked the bayou and Charlotte Harbor.

  Jack tested the handle of the uppermost drawer. ‘Locked. Can you get me the key?’

  Mercy nodded and opened the top drawer of an old, battered desk and handed him a small key ring. ‘The chrome key opens both cabinets. The brass one is for the safe, but there’s nothing in there.’

  ‘Thanks, Mercy. We’ll take it from here. If we need anything more we’ll come and find you.’ She nodded and shuffled away, eyes cast down.

  The drawers were full of loose papers. ‘Mercy was right about the filing system. It looks as if Jacobs just tossed everything in.’ He pulled out a sheaf of papers and spread them over the desk. ‘See if you can find anything that mentions or corresponds to Elliott’s visits to Sand Dollars.’ He dumped the contents of the second drawer on the floor and crouched down, sifting through the documents.

  ‘Do you really think Jacobs kept a record of the times he flew Daniel down to the island?’ Grace asked.

  Jack thought for
a moment. ‘The FAA requires all planes to file a flight plan. Jacobs had to comply otherwise he’d lose his pilot’s licence.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Grace. She started sorting papers into piles. ‘These all seem to be credit card receipts going back for years, mainly for AvGas purchased at the marina and spare parts for the plane. Don’t you think that’s strange?’

  ‘How?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Well most businesses set up an account for such thing as gas and servicing. You fill up at the pump, sign the receipt and then settle the account at the end of the month.’

  ‘Jacobs clearly had bad credit. That being the case, I don’t think he did any end-of-the-month account settling.’

  ‘There’s no excuse for how he kept his books.’

  ‘You see, Grace. You’re more talented than you know. You’ve got business sense.’

  ‘I never thought about it before.’

  ‘Well, start thinking about it,’ he grinned. ‘Your future will be whatever you make of it.’

  After they’d finished going through the first cabinet, Jack leaned back and scowled. ‘There’s nothing here but letters from Jacobs’ bank threatening foreclosure on his home and nastygrams from the state of Florida for failure to pay alimony and child support. So far he sounds like a prince. What have you got?’

  ‘I’ve found the statement letter from his credit card company. He owed more than $150,000 and had exceeded his credit limit.’

  Jack let out a long whistle. ‘Sounds like he was ten minutes away from bankruptcy. Why don’t you go and see if you can talk Mercy into making us a pot of coffee while I try to put this shit away?’

  Jack picked up stacks of paper and files and eased himself off the floor. As he began to shove the mess back into the cabinet drawer, he saw what he’d been looking for.

  Grace set a chipped mug of coffee on the desk and looked enquiringly at him.

  ‘What did you find?’

  ‘It’s Jacobs’ logbook. His real accounting system. Take a look at these entries.’

  Grace rested a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘Why, those dates match two of Daniel’s visits to Sand Dollars.’

  ‘Yeah. And what’s more, the destination is shown as Marathon Key. And there were two passengers.’

  ‘Which means you were right; Daniel didn’t travel alone.’

  Jack thumbed through the logbook. There were a lot of empty gaps were Jacobs had either forgotten or been too lazy to fill it in.

  ‘Look at this.’ He held up a newspaper cutting.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Grace paled. ‘That’s Daniel! And the guy standing next to him holding the fish is Parous.’

  ‘Do you recognize the third man?’

  She took the cutting from him and carried it to the window. ‘I’m not sure. His face is turned away from the camera, but he looks like the man from the graveyard. I wonder which newspaper it’s from.’

  ‘Let’s see if Mercy knows.’

  Grace handed Jack the clipping and followed him through to the front office.

  Mercy sat at the reception desk nervously fidgeting with the telephone cord.

  ‘You could ask at the local paper. There’s an office in town.’

  ‘What about this guy,’ Jack asked, ‘the one turned sideways to the camera? Do you recognize him?’

  Mercy shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. West. As I told you, I haven’t worked here very long.’

  ‘Never mind, Mercy. Thanks for trying.’

  They both shook her hand and left.

  The office of the local newspaper was situated up a narrow flight of stairs above a clothes store and staffed by one reporter and a receptionist. Jack strode up to the desk and showed his ID to the young woman with short, curly blonde hair.

  ‘I’m trying to identify the man in this picture and I wondered if it was taken by your staff photographer and published by your newspaper.’

  She frowned at the cutting. ‘It’s not one of ours.’

  Jack chuckled in surprise. ‘That was a pretty quick assessment. How can you be sure?’

  ‘The name of the photographer is missing.’ She pulled a copy of the current issue off the rack and pointed at a picture on the front page. ‘See? The photographer’s name appears under every photo, even if the picture was sent in by a reader.’

  ‘Any idea when this picture might have been taken?’

  ‘I’d guess during the annual Tarpon Tournament in July, but it’s difficult to know for sure.’

  Jack thanked her, and he and Grace walked back to the car.

  ‘Now what?’ she asked.

  ‘We go back to the house, grab a bite to eat, and see there’s any news about Kennedy and Mike.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ‘You want to make a start on lunch, while I call the hospital to see how Mike is?’ Jack slipped the key into the lock and stepped aside to allow Grace to enter first, and closed the door behind them.

  Grace dropped her purse on the table. ‘Cat?’ She called out from the hallway. ‘We’re back. Cat?’ She turned to Jack. ‘Surely, she can’t still be in bed, can she?’ She started to call out again when Jack put his hand on her arm.

  ‘Leave her be, Grace. She’s not worth your concern.’

  Grace opened her mouth to defend her sister, but realized Jack was right. He was merely pointing out the truth. She let out a muted sigh.

  ‘It hurts. After all I did for her; it hurts to know she cares only for herself.’

  There was nothing Jack could say that would make Grace feel better, so he simply took her hand. He led her down the hall, through the family room at the back of the house and pushed open the door to the office.

  ‘What the hell—’

  Catherine stood in front of the open safe. She started to turn away, but wasn’t fast enough. Jack’s hand closed around her wrist and yanked her back.

  ‘Looking for something?’ he asked.

  Catherine’s lip trembled as she rubbed her wrist. ‘It was like this when I came in, I swear.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘Bullshit! I checked the safe this morning and it was locked tight.’

  Catherine’s lips drew tightly across her teeth. ‘It was open, Jack. You can’t blame me for your own ineptitude. It was open and I was curious. Ask my loving sister. She’ll tell you my curiosity is how I earned my nickname.’

  ‘That much is true,’ said Grace.

  Jack pointed a finger at her. ‘I couldn’t care less if your curiosity got you the name of Snoopy. You’re lying, just like you lied about your passport getting stolen.’

  ‘You’re crazy.’ Catherine turned to her sister. ‘You believe me, don’t you, Gracie?’

  Grace looked at her sister. Catherine’s brittle, calculating stare bore into her. ‘I’d like to hear your explanation before I decide.’

  Catherine shrugged. ‘Okay, so I’m lying after all. But I was curious. I thought it would be fun to see if I could open it. I spun the dial, it clicked a few times, and then just opened.’

  Jack gave a slow handclap. ‘Very good. Only I’m not buying. Was this what you were looking for?’ He pulled Elliott’s notebook out of his back pocket. He watched the play of emotions on Catherine’s face.

  ‘You don’t honestly believe I’d steal from my own sister, do you?’

  ‘I don’t believe anything you say. Let’s put the issue of the safe to one side for the moment. Care to explain how you came by an Irish passport?’ He pulled a sheaf of papers out of his pocket and handed them to Grace. ‘Diego faxed this to me yesterday. Recognize the woman in the photograph?’

  Grace studied the photocopy of the passport. ‘Catherine?’

  ‘Okay,’ she shouted. ‘So I lied. Again. But it’s no business of yours what passport I carry.’

  ‘Forgery will earn you a prison sentence. So will murder and theft. You know what bothers me about your story? Grace left messages for you on both your home and cell phones, yet you ignored them. Weren’t you the slightest bit interested to know what
she wanted? Or did you know Elliott was dead and figured hiding out in Europe until things died down was your best bet?’

  Catherine shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

  ‘I’ve told you—’

  ‘You can tell me as many times as you want, lady, but it’s still a raft of bullshit. I say we take a look in your purse to make sure.’ He jerked her towards the door.