Caribbean Capers

by Dan Kelly

  Bent over close to the ground, they begin to slowly make their way to the RV when its door flies open and a young couple with their clothes in disarray and laughing hysterically at something only they were aware of stumble down the steps obviously more than slightly pickled. The woman turns to the man and manages to say, “We’ve really got to do something about those steps. Every time we have a few drinks they do their damndest to trip us up.” This brings on another fit of laughter and then they went staggering off towards the back yard.

  Pete lets out the breath of air he’s been holding and softly says, “That was way too close for comfort, although in their present state if they had seen us they probably would have thought they were hallucinating.”

  Abby whispers back, “Since we’ve come this far, let’s make the trip worthwhile.”

  Taking the lead and staying in a crouched position, she cautiously moves along the edge of the property line between the house and the empty lot. When they get a view of the backyard, the magnificent landscaping, the ornate dock leading out into the lake, the beautiful launch tied up to it, the large covered patio running the entire width of the house which is quite broad, the subdued lighting everywhere, it’s like they’ve stepped out onto an old 1940s Hollywood movie set. It is elegance to the nth degree.

  Afraid to talk for fear they will be heard, they look around for some safe place to hide. At first there doesn’t seem to be anyone out on the patio, but that proves to be an illusion as they soon are made aware there is an old man sitting in a darkened corner of the patio sipping on what looks like a margarita. He gave himself away when he noisily set his drink down on the small table beside him. They don’t think he saw them yet and want to make sure it remains that way, so they quickly back off behind the RV to figure out where the best place would be for their stakeout.

  Pete whispers, “I was expecting to see goon body guards, not old men sipping margaritas and couples regrouping after a groping match or a coitus celebration. I wonder who they are.”

  “They’re probably either relatives or employees in Juan’s inner circle that play a key role in his operations. Right now we have a more important question to answer. Where’s the best place we can plant ourselves to have a good view of both the front and back of the house and no one can see us.

  “The front and back yards are too open and the street is out because a strange car parked close to the house for an extended period of time would definitely attract attention. The lot would work at night, but during the day we’d certainly be spotted by anyone walking by or through the lot, especially if we huddled near the edge of the lot. If we moved into the center of the lot, we’d be too far away from the house to see anything.”

  Pete thought for a moment and then asked, “How are you at climbing trees?”

  “Huh?”

  “How are you at climbing trees? There are plenty of tall ones with lots of broad leaves to hide behind in this lot.”

  “No way, Jose. Good old terra firma is where these feet are staying. If we were spotted, we’d be easy targets. I’m no monkey when it comes to tress. I’m more like a sloth. I fell out of a tree once when I was a kid and damn near broke my neck. There’s got to be another way.”

  Teasingly Pete said, “I don’t believe it. Wonder Woman is afraid of something.”

  “Don’t be a smart ass, Brody. There’s got to be a better way to cover this place.”

  Pete said, “What we need is a drone.”

  Abby said, “Get real. Where are we going to get a drone in Maracaibo? Wait a minute. That gives me an idea that might be doable and give us mobility to boot.”

  “Now it’s my turn to say huh?”

  “Surveillance cameras. If we can lay our hands on some surveillance cameras that can be controlled remotely, we could, you could, place them up in those trees you want to climb and our problem would be solved. We could position ourselves away from the house so no one will have a clue they’re being watched.”

  “You might have something there, but where are we going to find the equipment we’d need in Maracaibo?”

  “It’s time to call in the cavalry again. Let’s get back to the car and I’ll put our dilemma on Dave’s plate.”

  Luckily for them, Dave has a voracious appetite for dilemmas and told them what they wanted to hear. “I’ll have what you’ll need delivered to your hotel sometime tomorrow afternoon, including some back up. This Julio Mendoza is turning out to be quite the find. We owe him.”

  “I’ll pass that along. Thanks, Dave.”

  When Abby hung up Pete asked, “Well, what now? Do we stay here or head back to the hotel?”

  “I doubt if anything is going to happen tonight and even if it does with just the two of us our surveillance would be like a sieve, full of holes. The house and property is too big for two people to adequately cover. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

  As promised, about three the next afternoon several relatively small packages were delivered to the hotel. They contained four surveillance cameras, two small monitors with split screen capability, four remote controls and special miniature communication gear with just one encrypted and cloaked channel of communication for use between them and their back up. If anybody is scanning the air waves to eavesdrop on traffic, all they’ll hear is an intermittent hiss.

  Also as promised, about 4:30 that same afternoon their back up announced their arrival with a knock on the door and a deep voice saying, “Room service, the backup you ordered.”

  They both recognized the voice immediately and Pete said, “Leave it at the door and here’s your tip. Never trust a Navy Seal. They have water on the brain.”

  Abby threw open the door and grabbed Manny by his collar and gave him a big hug. Looking up at his smiling face she said, “I swear you’re still growing. It’s got to be something in that Navy food.”

  Pete grabbed his hand in a firm grip and slapping him on the back said, “How many times do I have to tell you? The ocean, that body of water with the big waves in it, that’s where you belong, not in a sea of concrete. Did a porpoise ever clobber you in the head when you were a pup?”

  “Okay, okay you two. Guys, these two aspiring comedians, and failing miserably I might add, are Pete Brody and Abby Keenan. These three gentlemen are the remaining members of my team who you haven’t met yet and they were just dying to take a trip to the Caribbean, so I invited them along.”

  This got some sarcastic groans and mumblings and then some smiles as hands were shaken all around.

  Getting serious Pete said, “We’re glad you’re here, guys. This yahoo we’re after is a very dangerous man and surrounds himself with very dangerous men. He is not going to be taken dead or alive without putting up one hell of a fight. We believe we know where he’s hiding out, but we haven’t laid eyes on him or even his body guards yet.”

  Abby gave them a full briefing and told them Pete would install the surveillance cameras in the trees surrounding the property late that evening when everyone in the house and their neighbors should be asleep. “Once the cameras are installed, all we can do is sit and wait for some confirmation that Fuentes is in that house. Once we get that, it will be piñata time again, Manny.”

  “My favorite time, Senorita.”

  That night Pete got the cameras in place without a hitch and for the next two days they caught nothing of interest unless you were a squirrel looking for another squirrel’s stash.

  Manny and his men were sitting in a car in a small shopping plaza a couple of blocks due west of the house and Pete and Abby were now sitting in a van, which they had swapped for the car they had been driving, approximately the same distance due east of the house in front of a hair salon.

  “Pete, we may have been played for fools. I’m beginning to think that company name used for the rental was just part of a clever ruse to lead us down a road to nowhere. Fuentes may never have stepped foot in that house or plan to do so.”

  “I know you think these guys are more than ruthless th
ugs. I’ve heard you say more than once that they’re also very smart and clever or they wouldn’t have lasted as long as they have, but I think you give them more credit than they deserve. These people are full of themselves and those types fail to give credit to anyone else and that’s their Achilles heel. I’m willing to bet Fuentes is thinking no one is as clever as he is, no one will ever figure out the connection of the company name with his. I say we stay put and stay alert. Fuentes is the kind of guy that’s going to go stir crazy if he stays cooped up in that house much longer. If he’s there and I believe he is, he’ll show his puss when he can’t take it any longer.”

  Letting out a big sigh, Abby nodded her head and said, “Okay, I’ll stick it out until the end of the week, but if he doesn’t show his face by then I’ll have to chalk one up for the bad guys and go back to the drawing board.”

  Less than 48 hours later Abby threw away her chalk.

  Chapter 47

  - Miami, FL –

  After Paul gets off the phone with his brother, he immediately calls his partner, Frank Delucia, and asks, “Are you working on anything that can’t be put on the back burner for a while?”

  “How long is a while, a day, a week, forever?”

  “I don’t know and wish I did.”

  Something in Paul’s voice makes him realize that something is really out of whack, so he puts a sock in the wisecracks. “What’s happened? Did something happen to your mom?”

  “No, she’s okay for now, but that’s why I’m calling. I just got a very upsetting call from my brother concerning an old friend of mine who might have become a new enemy.”

  Paul proceeds to give Frank a rundown on what’s going on with Damien, barely able to control his temper during the telling.

  “Damn, Paul, if this guy tries to take out your mother it would be like something you’d see in an old Alfred Hitchcock movie. From what you’ve told me about him, he was always over at your house when you were kids growing up. Your mom was like another mother to him. Do you really think he’s drifted that far off the main highway?”

  “Pete has access to information that has convinced him that Damien has acquired some new friends and a new philosophy on life. If Pete’s worried enough to call me and warn me about what might happen, there’s no way I’m not going to heed his warning.”

  “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

  “I’ve made a list of all the places Damien and I used to hang out. I haven’t been to some of them in years and some may not even be there anymore. If Damien is on his way back to Miami or is already here, there’s a good chance he might fall back into some of his old habits and start frequenting some of these places again. From what Pete tells me, Damien’s appearance has changed a lot over the years. Life has worn grooves in his face that was smooth as a baby’s butt when he was younger. He’s put on some muscle and his hair has thinned out from the mop he used to toss around and he’s lost the blanket of freckles he use to have plastered all over his face. If there’s anyone from the old days still hanging out at any of these places, there’s a slim chance to none that he’ll be recognized.

  “I’d like to split this list between us and start checking these places out on a regular basis. We might get lucky and find him in one of them. I don’t know how much money Damien has access to, so I don’t know what kind of lodging he can afford and even if he can afford nice digs he might still opt for something lower on the social status scale. He’s not going to get in touch with family or old friends because he knows those are the first ones we’re going to start keeping a close watch on. He may have become scum, but I don’t think he’s become stupid as well.”

  “In addition to splitting up your list, why don’t we split the city up into sections and each take a section at a time and check out the available lodgings each one has to offer. We could check with realtors that do rentals so we can include rooms in residences that are available or have recently been rented. Do you have a recent picture of Damien we can make copies of and show and pass around?”

  “I can get one from Dave Morrison.”

  “Does your mom know about this latest development?”

  “No. I’m going to call her next and also and touch base with the folks guarding her. I sure am glad my mother finally listened to reason and agreed to wear a disguise when she’s not home and went along with the subterfuge of taking a business trip to South America. I won’t really be able to relax though until Damien and Fuentes are out of the picture.”

  “Okay, Paul, I’ll clear my calendar and we can get started first thing in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Frank.”

  “Not another word.”

  After Paul made the calls to his mother and the man in charge of the guard detail, he was too wound up and angry to get any sleep, so he grabbed his keys and went out for a drive with the hope of clearing his head and getting a brilliant idea about how he could find his traitorous ex-friend. His wife and daughter are over at a friend’s house for a few days helping her adjust to life with a newborn baby in the family, so he didn’t have to come up with any lame excuses for wanting to go out for a drive at eleven o’clock in the evening.

  After driving aimlessly around for over an hour, he remembers an old all-night diner he and Damien used to hang out in after a movie, Bud’s Diner. The diner served the greasiest and best tasting hamburgers in Miami and the French Fries were as crisp as new dollar bills, but quickly became soggy when they drenched them in ketchup, befuddling them to the max. They never could figure out why. This reminiscence briefly brings a smile to Paul’s mouth, but only briefly. It is quickly replaced by a scowl and growl as he remembers why he is out and about.

  As he pulls into the parking lot, he’s glad to see that the old diner has survived even though its original owner who was also a bookie hasn’t. He remembers reading in the paper a while back that during his last and one of his more lengthy stays in the hoosegow for taking bets over the phone in the diner he was taking bets in the jail and reneged on a payoff and wound up with a homemade shiv in his gut. The article pointed out that the man was obviously a few cards short of a full deck to pull a stunt like that on inmates in a jail and gave an account of another situation where he became a guest of the city because he was taking bets in the diner while a uniformed cop was eating at the counter only fifteen feet away. “Old Irv wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he certainly had balls.”

  The diner is about half full, mostly truckers judging from the rigs parked outside and a few people who probably just got off their swing shift at the hospital, judging from the scrubs they’re wearing. “Hey, here I am people! Paul Brody, ace detective, able to deduce earth shattering facts at a single glance, at your service. Oh boy! I need a junk food fix real quick before I crash and burn.”

  Sitting in a booth instead of at the counter so he can watch what’s going on outside, just like he did when he was a teenager, he orders a red and white ice cream soda, just like he used to do when he was a teenager, and sits back and tries to think of other places Damien might be found.

  Half way through his ice cream soda a police car pulls into the parking lot and two officers get out who Paul knew when he was on the force. The two of them, one tall with a headful of dirty blonde hair, the other short and bald, both built like an Abrams tank, have been riding together forever it seems to Paul and they still look none the worse for it.

  When he knew them, they were constantly disagreeing and arguing about every topic under the sun and everyone was always wondering when they were going to have a go at each other, but it never happened. Everybody eventually realized that wasn’t ever going to happen, that arguing was the way they handled the stress and boredom of the job and that they actually enjoyed it.