Geek Mafia: Mile Zero (20 page)

"I mean crews, like mine or yours or Winston's. We're like packs of wolves aren't we? Feeding off the herd."

"That's a less than lovely metaphor," said Winston.

"It's a less than lovely murder," said Paul.

"And you're certain that one of us was responsible?" asked Isaiah.

"Well, not one of us in this room, I hope. But yeah, one of the Crews out there. Definitely."

"Why do you say that?" Isaiah asked.

"Well, it's a two-man job at least, probably more, and it's unlikely this is all a coincidence of some kind. And then there's the whole putting the body back in her room. Why do that? To send the rest of us a message."

"Explain," said Isaiah.

"Well, the killers put her back in her room. Why? Not to hide the body from the police, that much is for sure.

There wasn't a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. The maids would have found her body this morning. And then the police would have gotten involved. Plus, if they were moving her body anyway, then they could have hidden it anywhere. Or dumped it in the water - we're never more than a half mile from the ocean here. No.

They put her in her room, where there was every expectation that we would find her before dawn. Hell, we found her in under two hours once we started looking. So I figure they had to be sending us a message."

"I agree," said Isaiah.

"Well, that's nice to hear," said Paul. "Do you have any idea what the message is?"

"Do you?"

"No idea," said Paul. And he didn't. He knew it was a message, but he thought it was a pretty crappy one.

"Some sort of warning I guess."

"I agree with that assessment as well," said Isaiah.

"And what do you two think the killer was warning us about?" asked Winston. "Assuming that's what's really happening here."

"I assume that the killers are trying to scuttle our new project," Isaiah said. "By killing a key player in the corporation and then placing her body where we alone would find it in time, they're hoping to scare us off.

That alone tells us something about the killers,"

"What's that?" asked Winston.

"That they do not know me very well at all. I will not be dissuaded. And I hope you won't either," he said, looking both to Winston and Paul. "This should, if anything, strengthen our resolve. We need to find the Chapter 16

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killers. We need to take care of them. And then we need to move on. Our course is clear."

Isaiah's voice never changed from its level, careful tones, but Paul saw real anger in the man's eyes. From the little he knew of Isaiah, he could guess that he was a man who prided himself on keeping his emotions in check. But behind the calm façade was a hint of fury that he couldn't hide. "What do you mean, take care of ?"

Paul asked.

"That depends on who and what we find. But we obviously need to make sure that whatever group or person killed Raquel can never hurt us again. Absolutely sure. We are all agreed on this point, are we not?"

"Of course," said Winston.

"I guess so," said Paul. "I mean, I'm not making any promises. And I'm not going to turn into anyone's hit man. We'll just have to see how it plays out, won't we?"

"Yes," said Isaiah. "Which is why we need to proceed with the investigation. I know this is your island, Paul.

And I know that you have resources and knowledge here that we visitors can't match."

"You seem to have good resources of your own," said Paul.

"Not as good as you think. You were just sloppy. I put this down to your inexperience with such matters and the natural stresses you must have felt dealing with a murder for the first time," said Isaiah. Not quite the first time, thought Paul, but there was no reason to point that out to Isaiah. "Hopefully you have now learned a lesson. My point is this: We probably won't be able to solve this mystery without you and Chloe, so I want you to continue your investigation. If you need anything from me or from Winston, don't hesitate to ask."

"And what're you going to be doing in the meantime?" asked Paul. "Snooping around on your own behind our backs, I assume."

"Winston is going to help dispose of the body. I'm going to continue doing what I came here to do - I will not be dissuaded. Later today I'm meeting again with Eddie to discuss future plans and alternatives to how he might be involved now that Raquel is gone. Hopefully you and Chloe will turn up some more leads by then."

"We're working on it," said Paul, but his mind was elsewhere. He was remembering Sandee's conversation with Eddie, which he'd watched via the party's hidden cameras. Eddie had been pretty careful, but Sandee had gotten him to brag about his prowess as a planner. He'd talked about having a backup plan. How he always had a backup plan. A particularly nasty possibility occurred to Paul.

"I think we're done here," said Isaiah. "We've all got much to..."

"Wait a sec," interrupted Paul. "There's another possibility."

"What's that?" asked Isaiah.

"When you talk to Eddie, there's a strong possibility that he's going to suggest someone to replace Raquel in the corporation. Someone or some crew that he already knows and trusts."

Isaiah stared at Paul for a long, hard moment. "Why do you think that?"

"Like you said, this is my island and I've got resources here you two don't. Just trust me on this one. Eddie's got someone else lined up and ready to jump into the inner circle now that there's an opening at the table. I'll bet you."

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Isaiah sat back in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table. "I don't bet."

"Whatever. Just wait and see. It'll happen."

"And if it does?" Isaiah asked.

"Well, then that opens up another possibility. No one was sending a message or trying to scuttle the group.

They were just trying to change the dynamic of the founding members. They killed Raquel and left her body in her room because they knew we'd find it." Paul's mind was racing and he was talking almost as fast, the realizations spilling out of his mouth as they occurred to him. "If they dumped the body in the water, we wouldn't know for sure that she was dead. They leave it out for the cops to find and, well, now you've got the cops involved and no one wants that. Place the body where only we will find it and now we know for sure that she's dead, but there are no cops. And since we know she's dead, we also know that we can start looking right away for someone to replace her."

"It's an interesting theory," said Isaiah, his face blank.

"And you suspect Eddie?" asked Winston.

"Yeah, Eddie's the most likely candidate isn't he? Or maybe it was the replacement he has in mind who went ahead and acted alone. Or maybe they were both in on it together." Paul was excited now that last night's events were finally starting to make sense to him. Something about Eddie had rubbed him wrong from the moment they met, and now he knew why. The man might be a murderer.

"It's worth investigating," said Isaiah. "If Eddie does indeed offer a replacement at my meeting with him, then I'll be sure to keep both him and the new potential player at arm's length while we look into the matter."

"But you need to be careful, Paul," Winston chimed in. "You and Chloe need to take every precaution when you're dealing with Eddie. If he is behind the murder, then..."

"I know," said Paul. "Then he's very dangerous. Well, if I've learned anything in the last twenty-four hours, it's that you can't be too careful."

Winston nodded in approval. "And don't hesitate to ask either of us for help."

"And keep us updated on your progress every three hours," Isaiah added.

"Yes, sir," Paul shot back, not liking Isaiah's commanding tone.

Isaiah ignored the sarcasm and stood up. "Well, we're done here. I'll pay downstairs. If you two want more breakfast, feel free to stay."

"Thank you, Isaiah," said Winston, who remained in his seat. "I too would like some eggs. Paul, will you stay and eat with me?"

"Sure," said Paul, "Sounds good." He'd welcome a chance to talk things over with Winston without Isaiah's intimidating presence in the room. Isaiah gave them both a blank look and then nodded, leaving without another word. Winston poured Paul a glass of juice.

"Now, Paul," said Winston. "Can you tell me what you really think is going on here?"

Paul looked around the room. At the framed pictures on the wall and the clock and the little ceramic sun and Chapter 16

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the plastic flamingo. They could all have cameras or microphones or both. After Isaiah's morning demonstration of his omniscience, Paul doubted that he would have left him and Winston alone in a room without a bug.

"Sure, I'll tell you whatever you want to know," Paul lied.

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Chapter 17

CHLOE fumed as she hit the street. The whole world was spinning out of her control. Nothing pissed her off more than being out of control. Isaiah's little "message" to Paul through that fucking game had been a real shock to her. Despite all her many misgivings about being in Key West, she thought at the very least that they'd managed to create a secure environment for themselves. Between Bee's spy cameras and their own security measures around the house and the network of contacts she and Paul had cultivated, they should have had some hint that Isaiah was poking around in their affairs. But for all she knew, he could have been surveilling them for days or even weeks, and she'd never had a moment's suspicion that he was out there.

Could he and his crew be that good?

Once again she cursed the fact that they didn't have a real hacker in their crew anymore. Raff had been brilliant with all the computer stuff, and given the time and resources, there wasn't a system he'd failed to crack for her and her Crew. But Raff had turned out to be a fucking rat bastard. She needed a non-rat-bastard Raff. But surprisingly enough, the city of Key West was known more for its margaritas and bare-breasted festivals than it was for its booming tech industry. Isaiah had her totally outflanked on the hacking front, and that scared her. Their system at home was as secure as they could make it, but she and Bee weren't experts.

And when it came to computers, Paul was basically useless.

It took her and Bee an hour to finish sweeping the computer room upstairs. After that, she left her friend to finish the rest of the house. As far as she was concerned, the whole place needed to be treated as compromised from now on, no matter what Bee's equipment found. There would be no talking outside of Bee's safe room about anything important until all this bullshit with Isaiah and Raquel's murder was resolved and these crazy fuckers left her island.

Now Chloe buzzed along on her scooter, on her way to see the girl that had first told Paul where Raquel was staying. She was the receptionist at Raquel's guest house who worked the day shift and was staying in one of the rental properties the Crew controlled. Her name was Riva Lindell, and she'd never done much to earn her keep before as far as Chloe could remember. She was a friend of a friend of Sandee's and had been living for free in a time-share off Roosevelt for two and a half months. Sandee said she was a good kid, a party girl, and that she'd be cooperative.

The house where Riva was staying was really more of a tiny bungalow, tucked in behind a larger house that the Keys Condos and Estates also managed. The bungalow had been a guest house originally, but at some point the original owner had sold it off as a separate property. It was a cute little place, although it could use a new paint job. Now that hurricane season was over, the owner might actually want to spend money on something like that.

She knocked on the door louder than was polite. Riva wasn't supposed to be at work for another two hours, and odds were that she was still asleep. Getting no response to her first round of knocks, she pounded on the door even harder. It took a third barrage to finally rouse the resident. A heavyset, bleary-eyed woman with a tangled mass of brown hair flung the door open, looking very angry. She wore only an oversized Miami Dolphins jersey that barely came down to her upper thighs.

"What?" she shouted, rubbing her eye with one knuckle.

"Hi," said Chloe. "Sorry to..."

"Who're you?" Riva asked sleepily. "Do I..."

"I'm your landlord," said Chloe.

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That woke Riva right up. "Oh, I'm just... it's a friend's place..." she stammered. "I'm just..."

"It's ok, Riva," Chloe assured her. "I'm a friend of Sandee's."

"Oh, shit, thank God," said Riva with relief.

"Can I come in? I've got a question or two. You're not in any trouble, and you don't have to move out or anything. I just think you can help me out."

"Um... sure. Of course," Riva replied, looking over her shoulder nervously. Chloe peered past her into the one-room bungalow and saw that there was someone else lying in the bed. "Sorry about the mess. My boyfriend..."

"Why don't you throw on some pants, and we'll talk out here," said Chloe. She didn't know who this guy in the bed was, but she didn't want to have to deal with him right now.

"Sure," said Riva. "Just a sec." Riva shut the door again and Chloe thought she heard anxious whispering between her and the boyfriend. Chloe thought about how well the real estate scam had worked out for them.

Taking over Keys Condos and Estates had been a stroke of genius and it continued to pay unexpected dividends. There was no such thing as affordable housing in Key West, and it wasn't like they were making any more land. Property was king on the tiny island, and the more properties they controlled, the more influence they had.

Riva had thrown on a pair of jeans and some sandals and tied her hair back with a scrunchy. "Sorry about that," she said as she stepped out.

"Don't be. I'm the one who should be sorry for waking you up," Chloe assured her. "It's just that I have a ton of stuff to do today, and I needed to get these questions out of the way while I had some time. It's nothing too important, just a few little things."

"Ok, sure. What do you need?"

"You talked to my business partner last night about a guest at the place where you work."