Follow the Evidence (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 2) (16 page)

“Stop, stop it there,” I said.

“Do you have slow motion on this
thing?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Bain said.

“Watch closely-there. See that?”

“It looks like two, no, three men,”
Madison said.

“And they’re getting on the
Wind
Dancer
at four in the morning,” I added.

I was grateful there was a time
stamp on the video.

Wind Dancer
was resting
calmly at the dock one moment and the next was rocking as it if was in a
terrific storm.
If only there was audio
. The sailboat’s violent pitching
subsided, stopping as suddenly as it began. The cabin lights came on as shadows
moved by the cabin windows. A shape back lit by the cabin light appeared on
deck and looked around.

“What’s that?” Madison said as
first one then another figure appeared on deck. They were carrying something.

The two figures stepped off the
boat placing their burden on the dock. Two more appeared and waited on the
sailboat.

“They’re carrying someone,” Bain
exclaimed.

“Wait, that’s four men. Where did
the fourth man come from?” Madison asked.

“Sergio,” I replied. “Sergio
Sebastian is the fourth man. He kidnapped his friend,” I said. “I bet he set up
the whole caper.”

Wide eyed with disbelief, I could
see the rage building in Madison’s eyes.

“Look,” Bain exclaimed.

We watched with horrified
fascination as one of the silhouettes signaled with three flashes of light
followed by darkness, and then three more flashes. Moments later, a boat pulled
up to the near side of the dock. It was familiar to me though I’d never seen
it. It was a cigarette boat with a swirling design on the side that looked for
all the world like a dragon. I’d found the demon from Danny’s imagination.

The four figures loaded their heavy
object I believed to be Jennifer Summers into the cigarette boat. Two of the
dark shapes bent down doing something on the dock.

“What are they doing now,” Madison
asked.

“They’re untying, the mooring
lines,” Bain snapped.

The dock lights played on the
boat’s dragon’s head as it slowly moved out of the frame. The ghostly image
sent a shudder down my spine. The men on sailboat tossed a line off the bow.
The
Wind Dancer
slowly disappeared, towed out to sea to her ultimate
death.

“Well, that certainly puts a
different complexion on things,” Madison said. “It appears a woman was
abducted.”

“We can’t be sure but it sure looks
that way and it may be just the tip of the iceberg,” I replied. “Is the
identification of this boat enough to get a search warrant for Munoz’s place on
Eleuthera and this boat?”

“If I can get a clear picture of it
in daylight to compare to what we saw here,” she replied. “When was that boat
last here?”

“I’m sure I can find several clear
images for you,” Bain said.

“Send them to me at this address,”
Madison said, handing him a business card. “We’ll go out to Eleuthera and…”

“He’s not there,” Bain interrupted.

“What?” Madison and I said at the
same time.

“Mr. Munoz is in Miami for the
annual meeting of the offshore racing organization.”

“I think it’s time I met Mr.
Munoz,” I said, “and had a quiet conversation.”

I cracked my knuckles as I felt my
face burn hot.

I walked toward Madison’s Navigator
racking my brain for a way to break the case.
There has to be something I'm
missing
.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Madison
said as we reached her SUV.

“Just coming up with a plan,” I
replied. “I know more than I did yesterday, but it’s not enough.”

“We can…”

My phone rang cutting her off. I
looked at the phone. It was Roscoe and knew I had to answer. I looked over at
Madison, who gave me a frown.

“Do you have to answer,” she
whined.

I ignored her and answered the
phone. “Roscoe any news on Lia,” I said.

“No, no news,” he replied. Tears of
anger welled up in my eyes.

I let out a sigh.

“When are you coming back?”

“Soon,” I replied. “I should be
able to head back tonight, tomorrow at the latest.”

Madison gave me a sideways glance
then pretended to concentrate on the road. She apparently had other plans.

“You’ve been sayin’ that.
When
the hell are you coming back? Randi has been asking for you wonderin’ why you
ain’t called her. I think she’s sweet on ya. I can’t imagine why. I told her to
forget you and…”

“And what, go dancing with you?
You’re a big help. Anything else?”

“Stan is anxious to talk to you
too. He says he has something for you, not about Lia though. By the way, he’s
pissed you skipped the country without letting him know. Randi says you’re
workin’ something with him.”

“Tell them both to cool it.” I
said. “I’ll see you soon Roscoe.”

I hit end and stared out the
window.

“Any news on your friend?” Madison
asked.

“She’s still missing,” I said. “I
need to make some calls and work out a plan.”

“You can use my office.”

“I need time to think this
through,” I said. “I work better alone.”

“So that’s what it is? You know,
you’re a bastard, Mac Everett.” Her voice was suddenly brittle. I’d hit a
nerve. “You want time to think, indeed. You can have all the time you want.”

“Whoa, Madison, don’t get your
panties in a wad,” I said. “I’m just not used to working with someone. I have
to figure my next move and…”

“And you don’t need me anymore.”

She’d picked up speed while we were
talking. It was a good thing Sunday drivers weren’t the norm on New Providence
Island.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re meaning is clear,” she shot
back.

“My intent is to find two kidnapped
women before they’re killed,” I replied.

“You think I don’t want that too?” she
said. “I guess getting involved was…this case is going to be a huge problem for
my agency. I…”

“I get it. It’s a high profile
crime. Madison, I'll help anyway I can to get those women back, but I have to
do it my own way.”

“You are in my country. You’ll do
what I tell you.”

“I don’t work like that. I might
have to do something you're better off not knowing.”

She didn’t say anything, but
concentrated on the road, her eyes fixed ahead. I could see the wheels turning
in her head. After a long silence, she slowed to nearer the speed limit and
said, “What do you want to do?”

“For starters, drop me at the place
we went last night,” I said. “I’ll think it through, make some calls, and come
up with a plan. We can hook up later and I’ll fill you in.”

She gave me another suspicious
glance. She was wondering if I was backing away from her, which I was and if
she could trust me. The latter point was an open question.

“Now you don’t want to be around
me?” she said. “You want to shag someone else, is that it? It’s Randi, you
are
involved.”

“For God's sake Madison, get over
yourself.”

She shot a look that went right
through me.

“It has nothing to do with you or
Randi,” I said. “This case has gone from bad to worse, Hilton’s screw up not
interviewing Cox, the abduction of my assistant plus I’m off my own turf. I
need to sort out this mess.”

“Time without me is what you mean.”

“No that’s not what I mean,” I
said. She was exasperating. “You’re a cop and by all appearance a damn good
one. What I have to do may not be exactly legal. I can’t risk getting you in a
jam. You’ve helped me a lot but do your job and let me do mine.”

“All right,” she said with a forced
smile, “If that’s all it is. I need to report what we found and I should have
another chat with Mr. Cox anyway. A high profile abduction in my country will
cause quite a stir. If Laszlo Munoz is involved, it will be even worse. I will
have to report that to my former husband.”

“You don’t mind?”

“What-talking to my ex-husband…”

“No, dropping me off, you rube. Do
you mind?”

“A little, but I’ll let you make it
up to me later,” she chuckled.

Thoughts of her naked body perked
me up and I said, "It's a deal. Later.”

Madison dropped me at the Quarter
Deck with minimal grumbling. We both had work to do. I’d promised to call her
in a couple hours. I wondered what I was getting myself into, as I watched her
drive away.

A tall, thin waiter greeted me as I
came through the door. He had a glossy Bahamian sheen to his dark skin.

“Good afternoon, sir, welcome to
the Quarter Deck,” he began. His voice had that Bahamian lilt that’s so easy on
the ear. “How many?”

“Just one,” I replied. “How about a
quiet spot where I can make some calls.”

“No problem, sir,” he replied with
a broad smile. “We don’t get busy until late on Sundays. Would you like a table
outside?”

“Sure…ah, I was here last night and
sat on the balcony,” I said. “Got a table there?”

“Oh, I remember, you were with a
lady. Sure same table for you, sir.”

We walked through the empty first floor
dining room and past the bar. There were a handful of loud drunks who looked as
if they were holding on to their bar stools for dear life. I’d bet they were
tourists who’d been drinking all day.

“Their wives are shopping,” the
young waiter offered when he noticed me watching the men.

I followed him up stairs, then to
the far end of the long balcony. I took a seat facing the stairs. The harbor
and marina spread out in front of me and I could see anyone entering the
balcony. The boat basin, the boardwalk around it and the parking lot beyond
were empty, no afternoon strollers or boat traffic. It was a lazy late Sunday
afternoon. Except for the shopping refugees downstairs, there wasn’t a soul in
sight.

“What can I get for you, sir?” my
waiter asked as he handed me a menu.

“Grouper sandwich, peas and rice,
some conch fritters and a coke,” I replied without looking at the menu. “No
better make that a beer, Corona with lime, no glass.”

I’d fallen head first off the wagon
last night so what did it matter. A cold one would taste good. It might be
November, but Nassau was still warm.

“Yes sir,” he replied.

I watched the waiter disappeared
down the steps and when he was out of earshot, I dialed Marco. As his voicemail
picked up, he answered.

“Mac, glad you called. Are you OK?”

“I’m fine Marco.”

“Sebastian, he knows you’re looking
for him.”

“How would he even know about me?
Am I looking for him? What about Sebastian?” I asked.

My waiter brought a group of six
people up the stairs, and then seated them at the top of the stairs. I gave the
guy a wave and a smile.

Marco was anxious. I could hear it
in his voice. I took a lot to shake this man. I waited for him to let it spill.

“The man is the Michael Corleone of
the Southern hemisphere,” Marco began. “He stays in the shadows and keeps the
dirty work at arm’s length but has his fingers in anything illegal in a half
dozen countries. My sources tell me he’s been trying to go legitimate the last
few years but old habits die hard.”

“What’s his game?” I asked.

“He’s into everything, but
smuggling and drugs are the main attraction. He smuggles weapons, computers,
anything he can get his hands on,” Marco replied. “He uses his legitimate
businesses to recycle his dirty money.”

“Money laundering, that’s good.
Maybe I can use it,” I muttered. “Anything else?”

“He’s got some small freighters and
a couple fishing and racing boats.”

“Where’s he based?”

“That’s hard to pin down,” he
responded. “He’s always on the move. He has a compound outside of Bogotá they
say is a palace, but he’s got a home in Panama too, and one not far from you on
an island called Eleuthera.”

“I heard about that one. You pick
up anything on a guy named Laszlo Munoz?”

“Munoz is Sebastian’s right hand
man,” he replied. “He’s worked his way up fast. The guy’s from LA. The story is
he bailed a few years ago after a shoot out in Southland, you know, South Los
Angeles. He was part of a Mexican syndicate running dope and guns. Word on him
is he’s up to his old habits, but he’s a moving target too.”

“How about Sebastian’s son Sergio?”

“
El hijo de la gata ratones mata
,
like father, like son. Sergio has been taking control of the transportation
side of the business.”

“How would Sebastian know about
me?” I asked.

“My source in south Florida says
the information is coming from where you are-Nassau. It could be a leak from
the cops. This guy says there is someone in custody Sebastian is worried
about.”

“Where is the old man?”

“I’m not sure yet, but the guy that
gave me this says it’s
Sergio
that’s worried, not the old man.”

“Sergio’s been reported missing.” I
said. “He’s probably dead.”

My but told me it was Sergio on the
Palm Harbor video, but it was only a suspicion. Hannah London was alive, why
not Sergio too? There was still the mystery of Jennifer Summers.

“About that…my people say Sergio
Sebastian has been in Miami at least two weeks. He’s using an alias, but two
sources guarantee that it’s Sergio.”

“Interesting, I bet the coasties
will love to hear that. Have you heard anything about an abduction ring? You
know, kidnap for hire, that sort of thing.”

“Only rumors so far, I’m afraid.”

“At least there’s that,” I replied.
“What’s the word on the street?”

“If there is such a thing it would
be the boy’s operation. The old man is traditional-very old school. Nothing
solid on that yet, but I’ll keep digging.”

“I wondered about that. Thanks
Marco. That’s a big help.” I thought for a moment and then asked, “Can you set
up a meeting?”

“With who, Sebastian?” he
exclaimed. “You don’t want to do that Mac.”

“Yeah, I want to meet him.”

“That’s not a good idea. He may
know you are looking at him.”

“Understood, but it’s the only way
I can think of to bust this open,” I replied.

“I can’t do it but I know someone
who can. When, where and what’s your cover?”

“South Florida would work, Orlando would
be better,” I replied. “Get word out that a former officer at the Bank of
Bermuda who now works for the Bermuda Financial Intelligence Agency has a drug
habit he could use to his advantage.”

“He’ll check up on you.”

“Let me worry about that,” I replied.
“Can you make the call?”

“Sure. Your neck should be in
another noose by morning.”

“Another noose?” I asked.

“That cop at the Colombian National
Police I told you about, he’s on Sebastian’s payroll. There could be a contract
out on you. It’s not a sure thing, but I wouldn’t go on any long walks if I
were you. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my best customer.”

“I wouldn’t want that either.
Thanks Marco. We’ll talk soon.”

“Be careful Mac.”

I hit end as two large groups of
people came up the stairs. The waitress, a short pudgy girl with a winning
smile seated them next to the previous group. I gave her a wave and she smiled
back.

I pulled up my phone’s contacts
list and put in a call to Peter Morris in New York City. Pete had been an Intel
analyst in Iraq and he’d scored a job with the United Nations Office of Drugs
and Crime. He was their money-laundering guru and I was sure he’d help me out.
It was late Sunday afternoon so I was surprised when he answered.

“Morris,” he said.

“Hey Pete, Mac Everett.”

“Mac, it’s been a long time. It’s
good to hear from you. How are you doing these days?”

“Good, good,” I said trying to
remember when we’d last spoken. “What’s a big shot like you doing working on
Sunday?” I asked.

He laughed.

“I’ve got a budget presentation in
the morning. I’m asking the brass for more of everything. It’s always like
pulling teeth. Not like the army, we had the best training and equipment
anywhere.”

“We did. I know it’s been a long
time since we talked, but I need a favor.”

“What is it?” he said with a tired
sigh. “Let me guess-you need tickets to a show. When are you going to be in
town?”

I wondered how often Pete got out
of the blue calls from people wanting Broadway show tickets.
Must be a
regular thing, he sure sounded annoyed.

“I guess you get that a lot. No,
nothing like that Pete, I’m working a case.”

“Well, that’s different,” he said,
sounding a bit brighter. “What are you into these days Mac?”

“I’ve been a PI for a few years
now. I’m working a missing person case only now it looks like abduction,” I
replied. “My assistant has been kidnapped too.”

“Whoa, that sounds rough. How can I
help?”

“There may be a Columbian organized
crime connection, maybe even some money laundering. I know AML is right up your
alley, so I thought of you.”

“Yeah, I’m the manager for the Anti
Money Laundering Section, but that’s why you called isn’t it? What do you have
in mind?” Pete asked.

“You remember when we planted one
of our people into that revolutionary group in 2000? He was former Republican
Guard.”

“Sure I do. They killed him…the
second day,” he replied.

“Well, same idea, build a tempting
cover story, only hopefully this time the pigeon doesn’t’ die,” I said. “I’m
the one who’s going in.”

“You’re still crazy. What are…?”

“Hold on a minute,” I said

A waiter brought my beer. I took a
long pull of it.
Damn that’s good.
I wiped my mouth. “I’m back. I’m only
crazy when I have to be, Pete,” I said as the waiter walk away.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Can you get word out that that a
guy from the Bermuda Financial Intelligence Agency has a drug habit the bad
guys could use against him? Make him a former officer at the Bank of Bermuda?”

“Why Bank of Bermuda?”

I worked a case a while back in
Miami. The assistant manager at Perrine Federal Savings was copying safe
deposit keys and taking the good stuff. He blew town just ahead of the cops.”

“What happened?”

I traced his money to Bank of
Bermuda. He’d gotten a job there under an alias. They arrested and extradited
him but kept it out of the papers. He’s doing fifteen to twenty-five in
Leavenworth.”

“Whoa, you don’t want to mess with
a federally insured institution, do you? Why this guy? Why the Bermuda
Financial Intelligence Agency?”

“First, the guy looks enough like
me to be my brother. Second, he’s out of circulation. His name is Ralph
Lawless.”

That fits,” Pete chuckled. “And
third, the Bermuda Financial Intelligence Agency doesn’t have all that good a
reputation. I get it. Yeah, I can set that up, but I want in on the bust. Who’s
the target? Maybe I can help.”

“This is a shoestring operation. I
hope you don’t mind but I want to keep this on the down low. Depending on where
it goes down, I’m sure I can get you in on it.”

“OK, Mac, I don’t like flying
blind, but I’ll do it. I need a piece of it though. It looks good at budget
time, like now.”

“You got it buddy. How soon can you
make it happen?”

“I’ll get a bulletin out in the
next few minutes. Ralph Lawless should be in hot water by morning.”

“Thanks Pete, I owe you one.”

“Just remember my agency when the
bust goes down,” he replied.

“Will do Pete, will do.”

The young waiter caught my eye and
I waved him over.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“I was waiting until you finished
on the phone. Your meal is ready. Shall I bring it out?”

I felt like a heel. He’d kept other
customers at a distance, even getting the other staff to seat people away from
me.

“Yeah, I’m ready. What’s your name
kid?” I asked

“Marcellus” he replied with a
sheepish look.

“What’s the biggest tip you ever
got?”

“I don’t know, maybe 20%. The
tourists…”

“Never mind the tourists; you’ve
earned yourself a fifty. Thanks kid.”

“Thank you, sir!” Marcellus said.

He was back in a flash with my
grouper and another beer.

I made some notes while I devoured
the sandwich. The blackened grouper was just right. It was the perfect meal.
The conch fritters were like little fried flavor bombs exploding in my mouth.
When I wasn’t thinking about the local cuisine, I was considering my next move.
I ate with enthusiasm while I contemplated what that might be.

When I looked up, Marcellus was
hovering out of earshot. I waved him over and he said, “Would you like dessert?
We have a great guava duff, fruit tarts and scratch made coconut cream pie.”

“Maybe later, but how about another
beer?

“Yes sir, right away,” he said as
he scurried away.

Marcellus came back with the beer
then disappeared again. The three tables of tourists at the other end of the
balcony had grown to nine. They were loud and oblivious to me. The place was
filling up.

I took a long pull on the Corona
and decided to call Stan. I’d done about as good job of keeping my wingman
updated as I had staying away from the booze, beer, and one-night stands.

I dialed Stan’s number.

“Mac,” he said when he answered.
“It’s about time you called.”

“Anything on Lia?”

“No nothing. I’m beginning to
worry.”

“You’re behind the curve on that
one,” I said.

“We could get a break soon.”

“Maybe we already have,” I mumbled.

“Whad’ya mean?” he asked.

I filled him in on the Palm Harbor
video, the apparent abduction of Jennifer Summers on dry land, and the faked
sinking of the
Wind Dancer
. I added a rundown on discovering the true
location of the
Wind Dancer’s
departure, my conversation with the very
much alive Hannah London, the connection between the mysterious boat and the
Sebastian crime family, and my plan to bust it all open.