Desperate Measures (10 page)

“I know. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I thought it would be best to get her out of there and not leave her alone for one minute. You take care of Caitlin. I’ll go to the room and distract the kids.”

* * * *

Lukas’s blood had run cold from the phone call. He closed the balcony door and entered the spacious living room of his Mediterranean style villa.

He walked the stone tiled floor, and talked to no one but himself. “I can’t let this piece of shit ruin me. He has enough information to take down my empire and destroy my family.

“How the hell did I know who the blackmailing computer tech I hired really was? He sure as hell covered his tracks and got past the Bucklin mandatory background check. Fortunately, I had enough time to expunge him from Bucklin’s employee and screening records.

“When I started the Electronics Division, I hired him from the competitor. All I told the asshole to do, was bring with him what he could on their latest technology, keep everything on the up and up. Not do anything unscrupulous. I never said to destroy them and start a fire that killed ten people. At least the idiot had enough sense to rig it where the fire ended up being ruled accidental due to faulty electronic wiring of the building and failed water sprinkler system.”

Lukas had been a suspect but had managed to dodge the bullet and avoid further suspicion. The other company declared bankruptcy after the OSHA fines and lawsuits were filed. Bucklin Electronics made millions in their first year of operation.

Lukas continued his monologue, “Thank goodness I made the right changes to prevent a fiasco like this from ever happening again and outsourced new employee screening. That damn investigator I hired to do all of the background checks costs me a fortune, but is well worth the money. An investment into the safety and security of my empire and family.”

Lukas poured himself another scotch, dreaded the call, but he punched in the number.

“Hello.”

“James! Why didn’t you tell me we’re being investigated and the FBI’s been calling?”

Lukas hated himself for reacting this way but he had to get control of the situation. The piece of shit that called was scum. Lukas decided to give the call some credence and confront James with unfounded suspicions, rather than give his son a chance to sugarcoat anything, or worse, lie.

“Dad, don’t worry, I have it under control. All questions are being forwarded directly to Zach Owens. He’s demanding warrants for any questioning and DNA tests. Can you believe they actually want a blood sample from you and me? Who is this dumb bitch bimbo, Caitlin Martin anyway? She’s nobody, trying to get a piece of the Bucklin pie. Dad, that’s all I know. I have to get back to my dinner meeting and I have an early tee off time tomorrow with some important investors.”

“James, I’ll call Zach but I want you to stay the hell out of this and forward all questions to me and our attorneys. By the way, it’s Caitlin Martel and she’s not a Nobody. She’s been quite successful and started up her own company which could be a major challenger to our Water Resource Division.”

Lukas continued to berate his son. “I want a daily report on the Pharmaceutical Division. You’ve spent millions in restructuring and I have yet to see any returns on the investment. Just remember, Son, I still control the reins. Instead of your damn golf game tomorrow, I suggest you buckle down and make some serious decisions. Convince me I made the right choice in naming you CEO!”

Lukas slammed the phone down but grateful James had enough sense to get Zach directly involved. Zach Owens, lead corporate counsel, has been brilliant for over thirty years and pulled Lukas out of some serious jams in the past, but nothing like this.

“Well you did it again, didn’t you, old man? At the mention of Caitlin’s name, you jumped down James’s throat and got defensive again.”

Lukas quickened his pace and continued his one-sided conversation. “At eighty-three I am too old for this. I covered all my tracks and protected my family and those most important to me. How do I let myself be controlled by these nitwits? I know I made the right decision all of those years ago. My biggest mistake has been that damn fool. Where’s he getting his information? He has no proof but enough speculation to destroy everything.

“My billions of dollars mean nothing if one more person gets hurt or killed due to my bad decisions. No, I refuse to believe that. The decision I made was for the best. Somehow, I’ll find a way to keep everyone safe and do it right this time. I need to get to St. Kitts but I can’t even do that. I have the Bucklin jet at my disposal on the runway of Barbados Airport. The minute it leaves, I’ll be under investigation once again. I can’t let that happen.”

Lukas stopped pacing and allowed his lips to curl into a smile. A plan formed in his brilliant mind. He forced himself to be patient, not to make any rash or impulsive decisions, remove all emotional ties to the situation; the same technique hadn’t failed him in business. He broadened his smile. This is business after all, isn’t it? Confidence and satisfaction replaced the previous worry and uneasy feelings he’d experienced earlier.

* * * *

Thankful, Tomas fulfilled his promise and managed to distract Chad and Alexandra. Scott directed a still drowsy Caitlin into the master bathroom and straight into the shower. A shower should bring her around. He left her under a stream of cold water and joined his children. The remnants of a room service dinner lay strewn on the table. With Scott’s appearance, Tomas left to meet Drew at the police station. Mitch stayed put.

Twenty minutes later, Caitlin appeared, clean from the shower but still glassy eyed. A walk, some food, and fresh air was what she needed, Scott decided.

Before Chad or Alexandra could notice their mother’s odd demeanor, he diverted their attention. “Kids, how would you like to go to the pool for a little while this evening? It’s only seven o’clock.”

“Yay,” Alexandra screeched. “Mitch take us but I want to go with Mommy and Daddy.”

“Mommy and Daddy will both go and Mitch will too, come on let’s go. They’ll probably have one of those shows tonight with the dancers on stilts.” Scott encouraged his daughter.

“CC, let’s go pool, swim!” Alexandra shouted to her brother.

Caitlin still hadn’t spoken but looked presentable. A light sheen of pink lipstick diminished some of her gray pallor and she’d combed her wet hair. The tank top and shorts were normal attire for the pool restaurant but her eyes remained unfocused. He handed her a pair of sunglasses and ushered his family and Mitch out the door. “Let’s go. You two go swim and listen to Mitch. Mom and I haven’t eaten dinner and want to get a hamburger at the pool restaurant.”

* * * *

Weary and overwhelmed, Tomas walked into the police station. He found Drew seated at the conference table with an assortment of paperwork in various stages of disarray. The table appeared to be in the same condition as Tomas’s mind, cluttered with details and information, but lacking answers.

“Anything jump out at you yet, Drew?”

“Not a damn thing! Do you have that sign from the beach and do you think it was left by the same person who sent the notes?”

“Yes, I have it but I don’t expect to find anything. The sign looks like it got wet. It rained here two nights ago, right? To answer your other question, I have no idea if it’s related because the message isn’t consistent with the other notes. Let’s forget the sign for now. I want to ask you some questions after I saw most of the island today.”

“By all means have a seat, but you’ve heard the Bucklins are lawyered up and aren’t talking. Junior called in Zach Owens, who is throwing up every roadblock imaginable. Senior hasn’t been located. Apparently he’s out of the country.”

“Yeah, I heard about that and James is on the top of my list of suspects, of course. He would have the most to lose, as sole beneficiary, if Lukas is indeed Caitlin’s grandfather.”

“So what do you want to ask me? It better be about this case and not the history of this island. I’m embarrassed to say Scott and Caitlin know more than I do,” Drew confessed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to recite any historical facts. Those small islands, in close proximity to St. Kitts, trouble me. We found nothing from the customs records from Robert L. Bradshaw Airport, so how’s this asshole getting onto the island? How hard would it be to drive over here on a boat?”

“I assume you’re referring to St. Barts, St. Martin, and Antigua. Those islands look close, but in a private smaller boat? The seas are rough out in the open Atlantic. Nevis is on our Caribbean side and very accessible by small boat. We now have the ferry that takes cars,” Drew explained and then his eyes got wide.

“Tomas, I see where you’re going with these questions. Most tourists, vacationing on Nevis, fly into St. Kitts then take the ferry over. However, there are a few direct flights to Nevis on island hoppers from San Juan. I’ll get the Nevis air travel records ASAP.”

“Good, that’s exactly what I hoped you’d say. What about cruise ships?” Tomas asked.

“Cruise ships? This is summer and we only have one ship that comes into port every other week. From November through April, we have one every day. The last ship docked here a week and half ago and the next is due to arrive this Monday. St. Martin and Antigua are on more summer itineraries than we are. You’re not thinking what I think you are?”

“Oh, yes I am. Rough seas or not, getting from one island to the next is very doable, even in the short amount of time a cruise ship spends in port,” Tomas stated.

“How the hell are you going to get those records? Each ship passenger doesn’t have to clear customs personally, or fill out a duty free declaration and embarkation form, except in the Virgin Islands.”

“You’re right about the cruise ships, with at least three thousand people on each vessel we’d waste valuable time. As a precaution, since we can’t confirm this criminal is still on the island, I advise we get a list of ticketed passengers on the ship arriving on Monday. The FBI’s Miami office can do that. Do you know the port it leaves from and is it the same ship that comes in every two weeks?”

“It’s the same ship every week with a Southern Caribbean itinerary, departing from San Juan.”

Tomas recited the plan and delegated responsibility. “I’ll have Miami get on it, in addition to the flight records for the surrounding islands. You can cover Nevis.”

“Nevis won’t be a problem. It’s the sister island to St. Kitts, so I should be able to have them early tomorrow morning. By the way, nothing unusual has shown up from Avis or Thrifty, the two car rental agencies on the island. Furthermore, in questioning the employees at the hotels, restaurants, and shops, no one’s reported any suspicious or out of the ordinary guests or visitors.”

Gary Spencer awoke at 9:00 a.m., after only a few hours of sleep. He dealt blackjack until 4:00 a.m. and had the rest of the day off. The high rollers tipped him better than usual last night. Wednesday night and the early hours of Thursday morning typically were slow, but not at Gary’s table. He’d raked in about two grand in tips.

Gary looked forward to the day ahead of him. He intended to take his boat out on Lake Mead, relax, and fish. Tonight he had a date with a cocktail waitress from the casino. First he needed a caffeine boost. He measured the coffee, turned the pot on, and strode down the hallway of his small two-bedroom, one-bath house. If he showered while the coffee percolated the quicker he’d be on his way. He’d stripped out of his boxer shorts when he heard a knock at the door. He ignored the intrusion because he intended to be on the lake by noon. The knock became louder and more incessant. Whoever stood at the door wasn’t going to leave until Gary answered. The coffee and shower had to wait. Annoyed, he thrust his arms into the sleeves of his robe, cinched the belt around his waist, and stomped out of the bathroom.

A male voice called out, “Mr. Spencer, are you home? This is the FBI. I have a few questions to ask you about your family.”

Shocked, Gary flung open the door. “Questions about my family, has something happened? Why in the world would the FBI be asking questions about my family? Let me see your ID.”

“Of course,” Agent Edward Cox said. He flashed his badge and handed over his card. “I’m an agent from the Vegas office but feel free to call and verify my identity. I’m working with the Miami agents on a case involving your niece.”

Gary snatched his head in the direction of the agent. “Lindsey, is she okay?”

Moving into the small foyer, Edward stared straight into Gary’s eyes. “Interesting comment, Mr. Spencer. Why would you immediately assume it was Lindsey I referred to? You do have another niece, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Gary fumbled. “My brother Jack has a daughter, Caitlin, who’s also my niece. I’ve never been close with either of them, other than Christmas cards. What happened with Caitlin? I can’t imagine her ever doing anything wrong to involve the FBI.”

Gary berated himself for his change in attitude. He knew his last statement contained a bitter tone.

Edward remained silent for a moment then continued. “She didn’t do anything wrong. She’s been receiving threats that have a family tie. I can’t divulge any details at this moment. Let’s get back to why you and your brother never got along.”

“We just never clicked. Jack was always so focused and successful and it seemed as if he judged me and I didn’t meet his standards. After our mother’s funeral, we had a huge falling out and haven’t spoken since,” Gary answered, keeping his voice calm, removing the anger from his tone.

“This falling out happened when Caitlin found out about her grandfather, right?” Edward stated matter.

“Oh Christ, you know about that?”

“Yes, your brother’s background and parental ties are part of this investigation.”

Gary rubbed his head and got up from his chair. “I need a cup of coffee, do you want one, Agent?”

“No thanks.”

Gary left the room, relieved with the reprieve from the agent’s scrutinizing stare for a moment. He returned with his coffee and managed to control his anger.