Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series)

by Wayne Stinnett

  “Might rain tonight,” I said by way of reply. “I gave Deuce and Julie the house and Cindy has the boat.”

  “Seems like a nice lady,” Dawson said. “What’s her story?”

  “She was close to my late wife, back when she lived in Oregon. They started a sort of halfway house for troubled kids there. Taught ‘em to fish and camp and stuff. She wants to start one here, too. So I told her I’d bankroll it.”

  “You got the coin to do something like that and you sleep on the ground?” Jared asked as he stretched out on the bunk across from Tony.

  “Probably slept more nights on the ground or in a boat, than in a house. You guys want me to douse this light?”

  “Scott and Jeremiah are taking your watch, huh?” Tony said. “Yeah, kill the light.”

  I switched off the light and lay down on the bunk. I made a mental note to buy a couple more coffee makers in the morning when we went into town. I was asleep within seconds.

  My subconscious registered the sound of Grayson and Simpson quietly entering the bunkhouse, but I remained asleep. The snores of the seven men had no effect on my sleep, either.

  I woke up completely aware. I quietly pulled back the blanket and slipped on my tee-shirt and worn topsiders then headed outside. The sun was just starting to tinge the eastern sky a dark purple.

  “Coffee?” Deuce asked from the nearest table. I walked over and he poured a mug from a thermos. “I put on another pot.”

  “I’ll pick up a commercial sized coffee maker when we go into town today.” Pescador came trotting up to us from the direction of the main house. “Hey boy, where’ve you been?”

  He sat down and looked from me to Deuce who said, “He stayed in the house last night. Guess he heard the weather report, but nothing came.”

  We sat and enjoyed our coffee, but all three of us were vigilant. The early morning hours are the best time to attack and both Deuce and I knew it. As the sky to the east lightened, our tension eased. A few minutes later, Jared and Tony came out of the bunkhouse, followed quickly by Hinkle and Mitchel.

  “I’ll go get some more mugs and refill the thermos,” Deuce said then headed toward the house.

  The four men sat down at the table, Jared looking around, seeing the island in the light for the first time. “I don’t suppose you have a shower on this island?” he asked.

  I grinned and said, “Two, in fact. There’s one up on the deck, fed by the cistern and another that Carl just installed out on the end of the north dock. Neither is heated, but this time of year the water in the cistern is warm. We bathe in the sea and rinse the salt water off in the shower.”

  Jared noticed Pescador for the first time, who was now curled up next to the stone barbeque. “Where’d he come from? I don’t remember seeing a dog last night.”

  “That’s Pescador,” Tony said. The dog lifted his head at the mention of his name. “Jesse found him last fall, after Hurricane Wilma, stranded on an island out here.”

  “Strange name,” Hinkle said. “What’s it mean, mate?”

  “It’s Spanish for fisherman,” I said.

  Jared looked puzzled and asked, “Why would you call him fisherman?”

  I stood up and said, “Follow us and we’ll show you.” I headed toward the pier, jutting out behind the bunkhouses. Pescador trotted beside me, his tail wagging. The four men followed closely behind us.

  When we got to the end of the dock, I looked down at Pescador and asked him, “Fish for breakfast?” He barked once and waited expectantly. “Go get it,” I said and he ran back and forth along the tee at the end of the pier, then leaded into the water. Carl had built a small ramp down to the water for him and a moment later he surfaced with a small snapper firmly in his mouth. He swam over to the ramp and then trotted up it, dropping the snapper at my feet.

  “Crikey!” Hinkle exclaimed. “The bloody dog catches fish!”

  “Unbelievable,” Jared said.

  “That’s a word I used a lot when we first found him. We tried to find his owner, he’s obviously well trained. Never found anyone that claimed him.”

  Charlie and the kids walked out onto the dock, all wearing bathing suits. The kids quickly went to Pescador and gave him a hug. “Breakfast will be ready in about 30 minutes, Jesse. We’re just gonna get cleaned up real quick.”

  “No hurry, Charlie. You’ve met most of these guys. This is Dave’s son, Jared.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Jared said.

  She shook hands with him then she and the kids grabbed small bars of soap out of a closed box mounted on the end of the pier and jumped into the water. The kids squealed and yelled for Pescador, who was still sitting in front of the snapper, waiting.

  “Eat first, then you can play,” I said and he tore into the small fish, eating bones and all in just a few bites. When he finished he ran and leaped into the water. We heard the chopper start up and a few minutes later it lifted above the trees and headed northeast.

  “Come on,” Tony said peeling off his tee-shirt and kicking off his sneakers. He removed a holstered Sig P226 and placed it on the shirt and shoes. As he grabbed a bar of soap from the box and jumped into the water, the others started peeling off shirts, shoes and side arms. In seconds all seven men were in the water, splashing and carrying on like the kids.

  Cindy walked out onto the pier and asked what everyone was doing. “Bathing before breakfast,” I said. “I was waiting for you to finish so I could grab a shower and some clean clothes from the boat.”

  I left her there to watch the action in the water and headed to the Revenge for a quick shower. Twenty minutes later, clean and wearing clean shorts and a Rusty Anchor tee-shirt, I went back down to the tables. The others were filing into the bunkhouse to change into dry clothes after rinsing off. Charlie and the kids must already have gone in the other bunkhouse.

  Julie and Deuce joined me at the table. “What’s the plan for the day,” Julie asked.

  “Me, Tony, and Carl are going to the Home Depot to pick up the appliances for their house. Dawson said he was going to do some more planting and Hinkle will probably take the others out fishing.”

  Chyrel joined us and said, “The Colonel’s on video for you, Deuce.”

  Chyrel sat down with Julie and Cindy while Deuce and I headed into the bunkhouse. Deuce sat down at the desk facing the open laptop and said, “Good morning, Colonel.”

  “Are you ever gonna just call me Travis, Deuce,” he asked.

  “What’s up, Travis?” I asked.

  “Hi Jesse. Look, I’m sending Brent over to Miami’s ICE office. Smith used to give instruction on disguise in his early years with CIA and Brent was in one of his classes. He has some ideas to give ICE, should Smith try to reenter the States.”

  “Anything you can share?” Deuce asked. Brent Shepherd is part of Deuce’s team and came from CIA. He speaks several languages and is the teams resident disguise specialist.

  “He said Smith put a lot of stock in prosthetics.”

  “You mean like fake legs?” I asked.

  “No, like fake scars, moles, or other deformities. Anything that draws your attention away from the face. Brent said that Smith always taught that if you could draw people’s attention to something else, they rarely remembered the face.”

  “Anything else?” Deuce asked.

  “Yeah,” Stockwell replied. “I think it’d be a good idea if the two of you split up. Just in case.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “Deuce and Julie have things to do in Marathon to get ready for Sunday, anyway.”

  Deuce looked up and asked, “What things?”

  “Trust me, Deuce,” Stockwell said. “She’ll have a whole lot for you to do.” I just grinned and nodded my agreement.

  “Alright,” Deuce said.

  “And take a couple men with you,” Stockwell added.

  “I don’t think that’s really necessary, Colonel.”

  “Then consider it an order, Commander,” Stockwell
said with a sideways grin as the screen went blank.

  I laughed and said, “I’m really starting to like that guy.”

  “Stuff it, Jesse.”

  “Besides, I know Tony wants to visit with Rufus and enjoy some more of his cooking. Take him and Grayson.”

  “Grayson?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He can’t possibly get enough calories up here eating fish. A guy that big, needs beef.”

  When we went back outside, Tony, Jared, and Grayson were sitting at one table, while the women were still talking excitedly at the other, apparently about the upcoming wedding. That reminded me of something.

  “Deuce, come with me,” I said. We walked across the clearing to the main house and went inside. I went into the bedroom, opened the bottom drawer of my small dresser and took out a small box. I carried it into the living room, where Deuce waited.

  Handing him the box, I said, “I’m sure Rusty wants you guys to have these, but he’d never ask for them back.”

  He opened the little box and looked up in surprise. “These are the rings he gave you and Alex.”

  “Yeah,” I said as he started to protest. “He shouldn’t have. They should be worn by you and Julie.”

  He closed the box and extended his hand, “Thanks, man.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I said, taking his hand. “Now, let’s get some breakfast so you and Julie can head off to pick out napkins and flowers and shit.”

  Joining the group outside, which now included everyone but Trent’s kids and Pescador, we sat down to a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. When Deuce showed Julie what I’d given them, she came over and gave me a huge hug.

  After breakfast we split up. Cindy went fishing with Charlie in the Grady, while Hinkle, Mitchel, and Simpson took their snorkeling gear and borrowed spear guns from the gear locker under the house and headed out to the southern pier, to spear fish in Harbor Channel.

  “Scott, you and Tony want to go to Marathon with me and Julie?” Deuce asked.

  “Will there be meat?” he asked, causing Deuce and I to laugh.

  “Yeah,” Tony answered. “Wait till you try old Rufus’s cooking.” Turning to Julie he asked, “Think he’ll have some of that bacon fish?”

  She laughed and said, “If he doesn’t Tony, we’ll go spear fishing and get you some.” When I first met Deuce, Tony, and Art, they were looking for me to take them to a reef to spread Deuce’s dad’s ashes. I’d recommended they try Rufus’s blackened hogfish and jokingly said it tasted just like bacon.

  “Jared, how about you give Carl a hand with whatever he’s got going on this morning?” I said. “Me and Dawson can go to Big Pine to pick up the appliances.”

  “Sure thing,” he said.

  “We didn’t know how many people were going to be here, when Charlie bought groceries,” Carl said handing me a piece of paper. “She made this list for whoever went into town next and here’s the keys to my pickup at Wooden Bridge Marina. It’s parked in front of Skeeter’s barge.”

  Dawson and I took my skiff and he waited at the dock, while I went to the grocery store to fill Charlie’s order. On the way, I called Doc to tell him we would be going to DC to meet with the President early on Saturday.

  When I called Jackie to tell her, I managed to catch her between rounds. “About time you called,” she said.

  “Sorry, we’ve been real busy on the island. Are you busy Saturday?”

  “My CO already told me. What’s this about?”

  “All I know is that the FBI wants to interview each of us and the President requested we come to the White House.”

  “Have you made airline reservations yet?” she asked.

  “Better than that,” I replied. “Stockwell is sending a Gulfstream. We’ll leave at 0700 and be at Andrews by 1000.”

  “Isn’t Deuce and Julie’s wedding on Sunday?”

  “Stockwell assured us that we’ll be back by sunset.”

  She had to go, so we said goodbye and I went into the grocery store. Charlie’s list was long, as feeding 12 people takes a lot. It took me an hour to find everything and when I got back to the dock at Wooden Bridge, Dawson, the Home Depot truck driver, and his helper were just finishing loading the last of the appliances. When I saw the commercial sized coffee maker was when I realized I’d forgotten to pick one up. As usual, Charlie and Carl were a step ahead of me. Charlie didn’t cut corners, just like I’d told her not too. Everything was top of the line equipment and fixtures, from the double gas oven to the bathroom sink.

  What I hadn’t expected to see were fruit trees. There were two apple trees, five orange trees, three papaya trees, three banana trees, and my own favorite, two mango trees. They were large, some already bearing fruit and each one was in its own thirty gallon bucket. I hadn’t even thought of fruit trees, but was very glad to see that either Carl or Charlie had.

  It took another ten minutes to move the boxes of groceries from the back of Trent’s pickup to the barge. I planned to take the barge all the way around to the north side of the island to make it easier to move the heavy equipment ashore. It only drew about 18 inches of water and with the heavy stuff loaded to the rear of amidships, the square bow could be nosed right up to the beach, next to the pier.

  The barge only had an old 50 horse Evinrude outboard, but it started instantly. It took well over an hour to get back to the island and docked on the north side, me piloting the barge and Dawson in the skiff. It was nearly noon when we started unloading. Charlie took charge, directing where everything was to be taken. With all of us working, we had it unloaded in an hour. Trent had everything ready in his house to hook the equipment up and he and Jared started working on that, with Simpson helping.

  Dawson and I worked on the aquaculture system, planting more and more seeds and small plants in places that Charlie had already marked. We worked straight through lunch and it was a blessing when Charlie brought us sandwiches. Hinkle and Mitchel had the hardest job. Digging the holes for the trees.

  “I put stakes in the ground where the fruit trees will go,” she’d told them. “Some by the main house, some by our house and some on the ends of the bunkhouses.”

  “You think they’ll grow alright in this soil?” I asked.

  “The only ones I’ll have to baby will be the apple trees, but I love fresh apples. The others are native to sandy and salty soil. We can water them daily from the crawfish tank.”

  “You’re the boss,” I said and she smiled.

  Dawson and I went back to work and by midafternoon had everything planted in the aquaculture system. Jared and Simpson joined us, helping to move the big trees to their spots and put them in the holes. By supper we had all 15 trees planted and supported.

  While we ate burgers from the grill, I set up a watch assignment. With six of us, we’d each be on 90 minute rotations through the night starting at 2100. Each man coming off watch, would remain outside as a quick reaction force during the next man’s watch before turning in. That would give us one man alert and ready, and another man on hand until dawn.

  Just after sunset, my satphone chirped. It was Deuce. “Hey,” I said. “How’s the napkin selection going?”

  “Stockwell was right about that,” he replied. “She has a list of things we need to do in the next three days. Stockwell called.”

  I could tell by his voice it wasn’t a social call. “What’s the news?”

  “Brent spent the day with ICE agents in Miami, reformatting their facial recognition software. Smith came through customs in La Guardia early this morning. Backtracking from there, they found that he flew from Saudi Arabia, to Turkmenistan, to Switzerland, to New York.”

  “He gained a lot of frequent flyer points. Did we have anyone at the bank in Switzerland?”

  “Yeah, CIA. But they must have missed him. He made a wire transfer from a bank in the Caymans. Just over $5 million. His disguise was just like Brent said it would be. A long scar on his cheek and something in his mouth to change his jaw line.”


  “Where’d he go from New York?” I asked already knowing the answer.

  “Rented a van from Enterprise at 0735. One way to Miami.”

  I thought about it a moment and said, “That’s over 1200 miles of driving. What time did he leave the car rental?”

  I could hear paper rustling. “He left there at 0800. Driving straight through with minimal stops, he could make it to Miami by noon tomorrow.”

  “He won’t drive straight through. Not after a 7000 mile flight over 8 time zones,” I said. “He won’t make Miami until tomorrow night. How many days did he rent the van for?”

  “It doesn’t say.”

  “We need to find out,” I said. “And why a van?”

  There was a moment of silence then Deuce said, “I need to find out how long. I’ll call you back.”

  Chyrel was listening to my one sided conversation. “Did Deuce say what time he rented the van?”

  “Yeah, 0735 this morning.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” she said as she headed toward the bunkhouse.

  “Hey,” I called after her. When she turned around I said, “Let’s have another look at that list of Stolski’s associates, too.” She gave me a thumbs up and disappeared into the bunkhouse.

  “Whatcha thinkin’, mate?” Hinkle asked.

  “Why would a person rent a van and not a car?”

  “To move a lot of people or stuff,” Mitchel said. “But, if he bugged out of Djibouti in a hurry, he wouldn’t be carrying a whole lot of luggage.”

  “He plans to pick something or someone up along the way,” Jared said.

  “I’m not likin’ where you’re thinkin, mate,” Hinkle said.

  “Me neither,” I said as Chyrel came back out of the bunkhouse, with a folder.

  “He rented the van until next Monday,” she said. “Not a passenger van either. A cargo van.”

  I flipped open the file, while the others looked over my shoulder. I scanned down the first page, then the second. On the third page, I found him. Joshua Lothrop. A bomb maker. Last known address was Baltimore.

  Just then my phone chirped again. I answered it and said, “He has it until Monday right.”