Desperate Measures (28 page)

“But wait, aren’t you going to ask me about the nice lady who brought me the tea, don’t you want to know what she looked like?”

Ben looked at her. “Mabel, I already know the answer to that question. She looked very similar to you, didn’t she?” With that question, Ben broke every rule in the handbook. He not only jumped to conclusions, but he led the witness.

With a short labored intake of breath, Mabel asked, “Why yes, how did you know?”

“I’m not at liberty to say more, Mrs. Thompson, but once this investigation moves along, I’ll answer all your questions.”

Ben left the hospital and speed dialed FBI Agent Rich Gilbert. He knew Rich was leading the St. Kitts/Nevis/New York case. Ben’s professional integrity took precedence over his own career advancement. He went with his gut instincts again. They hadn’t let him down yet. Ben contacted the FBI before his own lieutenant.

* * * *

The text message sent, Mackenzie stared through the copse of trees. He leaned his head against a sprawling pine, laptop computer propped on his thighs. Obtaining any electronic signal, cell-phone or computer, was a miracle up in the rainforest, not to mention all of the other good fortune that had, so far, gone his way. His e-mail notified him that the message had been opened. Mackenzie knew, pardon the pun, he wasn’t out of the woods but was getting close. Very, very close.

He packed up and trekked down the mountain. Everything has gone so well, better than he expected. Curiosity burned within him. He wondered about the scene this morning after the drug induced night. They all must be so confused not knowing what the hell happened. A bunch of idiots. The poisoned food, a stunt to fuck with them, represented the power he held. He’d get to Caitlin one way or another. He stopped and peered into his bag. Satisfied with the contents, everything ready to go, he continued on.

Mackenzie couldn’t get too self-confident, significant risks lay ahead. He refused to let negative energy invade his thoughts and enjoyed the dewy forest surrounding him. He allowed his confidence to surge.

It’ll work and Caitlin will show up at the warehouse. From the newspaper articles, Mackenzie deciphered the importance of the location. Caitlin made commitments to the Board of Directors and backed herself into a corner with a tight deadline. Before the board approved the purchase, she had to present a detailed budget and convince the financial backers to invest in the expansion as a cost savings initiative.

Caitlin would jump into action and meet the realtor but Laura Evans wouldn’t show. How could she? She had no idea her privacy had been invaded. It served her right for plastering her name and number all over this island. Mackenzie didn’t know every detail about Laura but had enough information to place her as a pawn in his scheme. He knew the make and model of her vehicle and hacking into her cell-phone to send a phony message presented no challenge to a man with his expertise.

He also knew Laura sold the Martel’s the lot on which sat the huge expensive house, overlooking the Caribbean Sea and the mountains.

Enough speculating, Caitlin would come, even if she didn’t, he had a back-up plan. Mackenzie checked his watch as he rounded the last curve on the trail. Seven-thirty a.m., perfect timing to catch the first ferry to Nevis and be back here in time for the final act. The paved street leading to downtown came into view.

The ferry to Nevis docked fifteen minutes ahead of schedule on this early Sunday morning. Mackenzie walked off the ramp, stepped onto the pier, and headed for the car rental agency.

“Are you sure you want to rent the truck for just today, Mr. Yates? Your business trips to our island are usually longer than one day, and you reserve a midsize car,” the Nevis rental car agent asked.

“Yes and please hurry up with the paperwork. Have my vehicle ready as soon as possible.” Mackenzie ordered.

He mystified the rental agent but couldn’t risk further inquiry. The questions started to annoy him and ignite his anger. Who the hell did she think she was? He’d passed as Mabel and this nobody before him challenged him as Ian Yates. She didn’t know shit, and he didn’t give a damn. He had to get back to the ferry. He tapped his fingers on the counter.

Minutes later she got her act and paperwork together. “Your truck is outside in the parking lot, you’re ready to go.”

“I’ll turn the truck in later this evening.” Mackenzie grabbed the keys and left the office.

He had no intention of returning the truck or the keys. He assured himself that no unforeseen circumstances would arise. He planned to leave the island of St. Kitts in a forty-five foot boat. He’d stolen it once. The owner, a nice enough fellow, kept the keys in a small unlocked compartment near the steering wheel. The people on this island were so damned nice and too trusting. Didn’t they know a killer was on the loose? Well, killer may be an exaggeration, he’d never taken anyone’s life deliberately, but that might change today.

Mackenzie drove in the direction of the pier with plenty of time to make the return ferry back. He turned on the radio. The island music put him in a good mood. His thoughts put him in a better mood. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, not to the beat of the song, but in anticipation of the day ahead.

He checked his watch, not much time remained until his sister checked in for the flight. It had all been so simple. He permitted himself a few moments to gloat over his achievements. As if some divine entity intervened, he’d found the woman at Miami International Airport, whose physical appearance earned her a role in the drama. Once the initial contact had been made, all it took was a flash of his blue eyes, some cash, and voila! The woman agreed to check-in with the passport and then disappear. He had no intention of keeping his promise to see her again, or pay the remainder of the money he’d promised.

Mackenzie’s mind visualized the sequence of events; his biological sister en- route to Atlanta, an imposter would soon present a passport in the name of Constance Spencer and pay cash for a ticket to St. Kitts, and then all hell would break loose. The FBI would chase their tails and business with Lukas could be finalized. Old man Bucklin, in for the surprise of his life, would have to get over the fact that their meeting had been bumped up by a day. With Barry as his guest, Lukas will get the signal when the shit starts hitting the fan. That private jet could have him delivered to St. Kitts in less than an hour, perfect timing.

Scott dozed in the hospital chair, a cell-phone shrilled and he jerked awake. He fumbled for the ringing device and rubbed his sore neck. “Hello,” he grumbled and his voice croaked.

“Scott, it’s me Caitlin. Any news yet?”

Scott coughed to clear his throat and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He answered his wife in a voice less chilly than last night. “Hi. Neither one of them is awake yet but Tomas is coming around. About four this morning, he started tossing and turning. I tried to shake him awake but all he did was look up at me and ask where he was and went back to sleep. About 6:00 a.m. the same thing happened but he said a little more. He’s semi alert now.” On the sink, Scott found a travel-size tube of toothpaste, squirted some on his index finger, and rubbed it across his teeth to rid his mouth of the horrible taste of morning breath.

Caitlin, with impatience evident in her voice, asked, “And, what has he said?”

“Not that much, and he doesn’t understand what happened. When I asked him if he ate a lot of the food, all he said was he wanted to because the meal was delicious but he kept getting up from the table to check his e-mail. He did say he could see Linda the whole time and she showed no hesitation what-so-ever. She took generous portions of both the soup and grouper for herself and ate heartily. He figured he’d let her eat, see if anything happened, and then chow down later.”

“Did Linda say anything to suggest how the food may have become contaminated?”

“Not yet. Drew sent someone over to her house and café last night to search for any, what do you call it?”

“Luminal!” Caitlin shouted into the phone.

“That’s right, and the doctor confirmed the food contained it. Drew’s staff questioned Linda’s employees but got nowhere. According to all of them, she made the meal herself. Are the kids still sleeping?”

“Yes, they went to bed late last night.”

“I’ll call you as soon as Linda wakes up, give Chad and Alexandra a big hug and kiss from me. Hopefully I’ll be back later this morning,” Scott promised.

“Okay,” Caitlin responded but sounded distracted.

Before Caitlin could hang up the phone, Scott called out to her. “Caitlin, we still don’t know for sure it’s Linda. You need to be careful, do you hear me? Do not leave the hotel and make sure at all times you and the kids are with Chris and Pam. Mitch is there, right?”

Caitlin cleared her throat then answered, “Yes, Mitch is still here. Don’t worry, Pam and Chris will be at our sides at all times. I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

* * * *

Caitlin distorted the truth but reassured herself with the knowledge that she hadn’t totally lied. Chris Dobbs, wrapped in a hotel issued bathrobe, appeared and the sight of him alleviated her guilt. She forced a bright smile and said, “Perfect timing, I need to talk to you.”

A wary look crossed his face as he asked, “About what and who were you talking to?”

Chris leaned against the terrace wall. Caitlin relayed a brief synopsis of what Scott told her, then moved on to the real agenda. Chris wouldn’t be happy. She planted her hands firmly on her hips in an effort to exhibit strength, confidence, and intimidation. She’d need those qualities for her next statement. “Now, I need you to help me with something. We need to move fast, before Scott gets here.”

Chris stepped away from the railing and stood tall in front of Caitlin. “What do you need me to help you with, and what are you keeping from your husband?”

“I’m not keeping anything from Scott. I just need to take care of something and this is the perfect opportunity before it’s too late. Are you going to help me with what I need or not?”

Caitlin gasped at the look on his face, and then put her hand over her mouth. Chris thought she was coming on to him! “Oh, Chris, I’m sorry. I babbled on and realize how that must have sounded to you. It’s nothing like what you’re thinking, really.”

In a defensive stance, Chris crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Really? And what exactly was I thinking?”

Caitlin realized she not only embarrassed Chris but herself too. She had to turn this awkward situation around and quick. She erased all humor and friendliness from her face, a severe look dispelled any misunderstanding. “I need to go to the warehouse and meet the realtor. I’m going with or without you. So which is it?” She left no room for argument. Didn’t explain further that if Scott knew what she was up to, it would be the same old fight again about her obsession with her career and company. Just like the day they arrived and she told him about the note delivered to her office.

Chris stepped back and held his hands up in protest. “Whoa, whoa wait a minute. You’re not going anywhere, lady!”

“The hell I’m not!” Before continuing, Caitlin took two steps toward Chris. “The realtor has to leave today and I need the architect to give me an estimate on the renovations. I gave my word to the Board of Directors that I’d have this finalized by the end of this quarter, or the investors will pull out of our Caribbean expansion.”

Chris had stepped so far back, he hit the terrace wall, trapped, no room for movement or escape. “There’s no way you’re leaving this hotel alone, especially after what happened to Tomas and Linda last night.”

Caitlin grinned. “Great, so you’ll go with me for bodyguard duty right? Pam and Mitch can stay here with the kids, we won’t be long.”

“Shit no, that’s not what I meant! This warehouse is on a deserted road, right? You’ll be open and exposed to anything there. I’m not doing it. Scott, never mind Barry and your father, will have my ass!”

Caitlin strode the last two feet to reach Chris. She reached up and took a strong hold of both his arms. At five-foot-eight she wasn’t short. Chris’s six-foot-five frame forced her to tilt her head back in order to stare at him in fierce determination. With a slight threat to end the discussion, she took control of the conversation. “I’ll say it again. I’m going with or without you! What the hell do you think Barry, my father, or Scott will do to you when they find out you let me leave alone?”

Caitlin’s grip around his large biceps strengthened. Her entire hand didn’t come close to encompassing a quarter of his upper arm. During the drawn out silence, she glanced at his big arms. He had on a thick robe, but damn her hands looked as small as Alexandra’s. She let go, looked into Chris’s eyes, and held his gaze for several seconds. He responded in a low, almost sensual and husky, voice. “Fine, give me a few minutes to shower, and we’ll go.”

Caitlin smiled. “It won’t take me long to get ready either but there’s no need to rush. We don’t have to be there until 9:30. I’ll leave Pam and Mitch a note, if they’re not awake before we go. Thank you.” Caitlin held out her hand in an effort to form a truce. Chris ignored her and didn’t smile back. He brushed passed her and went inside.

Scott struggled to keep Tomas’s attention but it was useless. He needed his agent to help him sort out the details but couldn’t get more than a word or two. Still groggy, Tomas succumbed to the drug easily and drifted off to sleep in mid-sentence. Scott had no information, no clue of what happened at the dinner table, and an agent who couldn’t keep his eyes open.

With impatience, Scott waited for Tomas to stir again but a shadow in the doorway diverted his attention.

The doctor entered and gave an update. “Mr. Martel, Ms. Sampson seems to show the signs Mr. Medina exhibited hours earlier, waking for a few moments at a time.” The doctor looked at Tomas. “If you’d like to speak to her during the time she’s awake, you can ask her the questions you need to. I’m not sure how far you’ll get, given Mr. Medina’s present condition.”