Green-Eyed Monster (13 page)

❖

Ginette peered through the binoculars until she felt her eyes would bug out permanently. Much to her consternation, she had witnessed Victoria being ordered on board by the sexy black woman with the decidedly unsexy gun.
Shit!

She knew it had been a wacko idea, but would Victoria listen?

No, never. And now it was all dumped on her to be a rescuer, or hero, or something totally alien to her.
Damn it!
So what were the options? Run for help? But in what direction? Ginette looked around the expanse of liquid blue; one wrong turn and she could easily end up in Cuba. Well, a girl could do worse than Cuba, but that wasn’t exactly getting her money back. No, she needed Victoria for that, and that bitch Mickey.

Okay, so she had a chart and a compass, but she could never do that “distance times speed, times whatever,” formula that Victoria did to tell if there was enough fuel to go anywhere. And she certainly didn’t want to run out of fuel out here. Especially not out here.

She could radio for help.

Mayday. Mayday. My ex-girlfriend, the tax evader, has been abducted by an armed hijacker, onboard the boat of an embezzling FinCEN agent gone bad. Please send an honest accountant.

Mmm, maybe not.

The powerboat engine was far too noisy for a sneaky approach.

At least not until she knew there’d be a friendly welcome. Perhaps she too should swim out there and do something wonderful to save the day—and her money.

Looking into the topaz blue waters, Ginette shuddered at the hundreds of sharks and giant squid just waiting for her to so much as dip a toe in.

No, better wait and see what happens next
. It was late afternoon, and Victoria had only just climbed aboard. At this very minute the skilled and twisted businesswoman was doubtless talking herself out of any tight spot and negotiating a takeover bid. Stretching, Ginette decided the best course of action she could possibly take was to wait and top up her tan. Who said she couldn’t multitask?

❖

“Start by telling me who
you
are.” The dark woman leaned back on the galley counter, tapping her fingers absently on the gun that once more hung from the lanyard. Her eyes narrowed to glittering slits.

Victoria answered with the most plausible thing that sprang to mind.

“I’m Michaela Rapowski. I report to FinCEN, and I’ve been on the trail of this piece of thieving scum for several weeks now.”

Mickey’s eyes flashed angrily, and a series of anguished squeaks and muffles filtered through the gag. The dark woman processed this information thoughtfully.

“Got ID?”

Victoria indicated her apparel. “Well, usually I roll it up cylindrically and store it up my ass because I’m waterproofed on the inside. But today I just plain forgot.” The woman chuckled. “I can easily check, you know.”

“My ID or my ass?” Victoria chanced a cheekily flirtatious route with this charmer. Her gut instinct told her it would deliver better results. Mickey managed to flash a disgusted look from Victoria to her abductor and back.

Another chuckle. “I already checked one. When I reconnect the radio, I’ll do the other. Here.” Despite the cavalier attitude, she tossed a T-shirt to Victoria. Gratefully, she shrugged it over her meager swimwear.

“Be my guest. I’m with the Boston office,” she said, holding out a hand in greeting. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

“Bar Jack, but they call me BJ.” A brilliant smile accompanied her introduction. They shook warmly, hands clasped right in front of Mickey’s extremely disgruntled face.

“So tell me, BJ, how come you can check out my ID?”

“I work for FinCEN, too, through an independent agency.  We get a lot of your kind of clientele out here in the Caymans.  We monitor unusual financial activity and report it to…interested parties. When people like our friend here move onto the Islands, we watch
very
closely. Especially when they make a large cash investment. It draws many eyes.” BJ shrugged at the simplicity of it. Mickey blinked worriedly at BJ’s answer.

Victoria stiffened slightly. This was the information she needed to hear.

“I audited her trail halfway across Europe, but it faded after sterling changed back into U.S. dollars. The trail was almost stone cold, but luckily, I had people watching the neighborhood down here, too. Always worth a little investigation, a big cash buy like that.”

Mickey’s eyes widened further, and Victoria gave her a smug look.

“And a police check shows she escaped a cabin fire recently.  No doubt a deal gone sour made her run. Why else would she move so fast as to draw unwelcome attention?” A wolfish smile accompanied BJ’s words. Mickey’s alarmed blue gaze flashed back to Victoria, who now spoke with great care.

“Gresham hasn’t been seen publicly since the fire. Officially, she’s stood down as director of her corporate interests. Retired early? Gone underground?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “It was only a question of when and where she’d pop up. Scum always floats to the surface.” She gave Mickey a long, hard stare, and Mickey glared back with equal animosity.

“It’s nice to meet you, BJ. Perhaps between us we can bring this two-faced, double-crossing, underhanded cow to justice.” BJ frowned at the vehemence of the words, and Mickey squeaked indignantly. Victoria gave a charming smile.

“Sorry. I’m very passionate about my work. Big on taxes.” Quickly changing the subject, Victoria asked, “So what are the plans for extraditing her? When do we head back to port?” BJ hesitated. “Mmm, I wasted time today waiting to see what you were up to. I don’t know if the boat is rigged for safe night running. The anchor light works, and we’re over sand, so I’m gonna sit here tonight and pull anchor early in the morning.  You’re welcome to stay.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Can I fetch you a drink? That was one long, hard swim,” BJ said. It seemed she wanted to keep her unexpected guest close at hand.

Mickey sat stunned as BJ and Victoria went topside. What an opportunistic, lying little bitch Victoria Gresham was! And what manipulative scheme was she up to now? And what was she doing here if she wasn’t behind all this?

In fact, the more Mickey thought about it, the angrier she became.
Little ship’s weevil, flouncing round
my
boat wearing that miniscule, indecent…rag. And in front of that ogling, gunslinging butch. And they’re lighting up
my
barbeque. They better not scorch anything…or get grease spots on the brightwork.

Bare feet padded back down into the cabin. Victoria appeared before her and leaned down to look into her eyes.

“My, it’s like looking into a mirror. Hello there, Michaela, or should I say, tricky Vicky?” She smiled brightly, ruffling Mickey’s hair. “It’s taken a little longer than expected to sniff you out, and unfortunately, it seems the ‘friends of FinCEN’ have pounced first. Poor Booboo. Of course, the fact they think you’re
me
adds an interesting twist, don’t you agree?” Mickey glowered at her, and Victoria’s grin broadened.

“Now, I’m not the esoteric one here, so I wouldn’t really know. But maybe this little mix-up is the universe telling you you’re a bastard for stealing my money and bringing the heat down on me.”

Victoria saw no need to inform Mickey that she was brokering a deal with the tax authorities and was practically a legit citizen again. Nor that there was no way the gun-toting butch up top was who she represented herself to be. Let Mickey stew in her own juices for a while. At least until Victoria had figured out an exit from this mess. Mickey glared back at her, the only possible recourse for a bound and gagged woman, as Victoria knew only too well.

“So the way I see it,” Victoria continued happily, “is you play along and
be
me, and I, God help me, will be you. We’ll ditch Top Gun”—she indicated above to where BJ hummed tunefully over the barbeque—“at the first opportunity, and you’ll transfer all your ill-gotten gains back to me. I have the paperwork already prepared and waiting at my hotel room. Then you are free to crawl back to whatever rock you were born under.” Mickey still glared at her.

“Just nod yes, sweetie. Otherwise, you can sit here until BJ’s employers figure out who you really are. Then both our asses will be on the line. Except mine will be long gone. I’m not here for you, Mickey. I want the money that you’ve been throwing around like confetti. It’s up to you. But be warned, if you won’t play then I’m jumping ship first chance I get, and you’re on your own. And I’ll bet you my last million dollars BJ’s boss doesn’t play nice.” Mickey glared at her one last, long time and then nodded curtly. She was busted and she knew it. Best to go with the devil you know at a time like this. And truth was, now that she’d seen Victoria Gresham again, she would quite happily dance after her all the way to the gates of hell. But Victoria didn’t need to know that. “Atta girl, Vicky.” Victoria gave her a condescending pat on top of the head, then collected a tray of steaks from the galley fridge before heading back up top without a backward glance.

Mickey sat and fumed. She was playing with a couple of scorpions here. Her instincts told her BJ was way off target as a supposed FinCEN informer, but it might be to Mickey’s best advantage to see how things worked out. She had no idea what Victoria’s game was, but it would be interesting to see how she planned to play Michaela Rapowski and get them both out of here.

❖

The smell of barbeque jerked Ginette awake. Sitting up with an abrupt squeak, she examined her slightly pink legs and sighed with relief. She had dreamed she was cooking.

She slapped on another thick layer of lotion and glanced across to the
Green Eyed Monster.
There seemed to be more activity on deck now. She leveled the binoculars at the boat and found the source of the mouthwatering aroma that had hijacked her dream. They were having a barbeque—without her!

We’ll soon see about that,
she huffed to herself before firing up the engine.
Margaritas, here I come.

Victoria and BJ looked up at the approaching vessel.

“Ah, I was wondering when your friend would show. See?  It took the smell of barbeque to winkle her out,” BJ murmured beside her. She seemed pleased at the appearance of Victoria’s hidden accomplice.

“Oh. Please. I cracked the cap of the tequila. It’s like calling sukie to a pig.”

The black powerboat slowed down as it closed in.

“Throw me a line,” BJ called out. “Cut your engine and we’ll raft up alongside.”

BJ’s strong arms flexed as she easily hauled the smaller craft in and secured it as Victoria dropped fenders between the two hulls. BJ’s movements were efficient and fluid. Victoria could tell she knew her way around a sailing boat.

Ginette stood on the coaming of the smaller vessel to clamber onto the higher hull. BJ scooped under her arms, lifting her easily onboard like a child. On deck, face-to-face with BJ’s gleaming smile and wickedly glinting eyes, Ginette stood bedazzled and breathless.

“Why, thank you,” she crooned, her fingers still resting on BJ’s biceps. “My, but you’re strong.”

Behind BJ’s back, Victoria childishly mimed a gag reflex at the overt flirting. Ginette chose to ignore her. Her quick proprietary scan of BJ’s body came to rest on the Glock hanging from her neck and her smile faltered.

“I like your bling,” she said dryly, withdrawing. All ideas of flirting quashed. There was obviously a situation going on here, and while Victoria seemed relaxed and not under any threat, Ginette decided she’d better wait and catch the score before investing any further in this interesting stranger.

“Please let me introduce myself. I’m Bar Jack, but call me BJ. And you are?”

Victoria hurriedly took over the introductions, dropping Ginette a few clues.

“BJ, let me introduce you to Ms. Ginette Felstrom. Ginette, BJ  is
working
for FinCEN,
too
. She’s single-handedly apprehended our target, Victoria Gresham. Who is currently incarcerated below deck.”

Ginette drank in these details without batting an eyelash.

Inwardly, her mind was spinning.
What the fuck? Why, just for once, can’t I appear at a cabin, or on a small boat, collect my money, and leave? Why do Mickey and Victoria have to turn everything into a freaking circus act?

Victoria continued seamlessly. “Ginette is Ms. Gresham’s ex-girlfriend and is assisting FinCEN with its inquiries. This might be a good opportunity for a formal identity confirmation of the woman held below. Ginette, would you like to meet Victoria?”
Oooh, you betcha!
Ginette gracefully nodded acquiescence.

She had no idea what was going on, but as with everything Victoria did, it seemed Ginette was being dragged along for the ride. Which was only fair, she supposed, considering she’d almost fried her. But she had apologized. Why couldn’t Victoria just wrap up this deal, get Ginette back her money, and say adieu?

Why was there always a walk-on role for poor Ginette to ad-lib through?

“Can you tell me exactly what happened, Officer Jack?” Ginette decided to go fishing for herself.

“BJ will do. I’m no officer. We’ve been monitoring Ms.  Gresham for some time now, after an out-of-the-blue purchase of a holiday resort.” BJ shrugged. “We think she planned to fake her death in a cabin fire, and then start up fresh in the Caymans.  I suppose she thought she could hide down here and put all her tax-free money into legit businesses.”

“My, what an absolute bitch.”

Victoria looked a little startled at the vehemence in Ginette’s voice.

“Spending other people’s money like that. Victoria always was born slippy.” Ginette continued, warming to her theme.

Tucking her arm into the crook of BJ’s, she moved toward the cabin hatch.

“She was never good to me, you know.” She leaned into the dark dreads conspiratorially. “Very secretive and bossy. And then I was approached by this nice officer…um?” She waved casually in Victoria’s direction.

“Rapowski. Officer Rapowski.” Victoria sourly filled in the last remaining details for her.

“Rapowski,” Ginette repeated. “I’m hopeless with East European names.” She giggled up at BJ, her arm now wrapped around a beefy bicep. “When Officer Rapowski here approached me, I could do nothing but offer assistance. After all, I was a victim, too. I had been left alone and penniless, to struggle. No alimony, no nest egg, nothing.” She stared up into BJ’s bemused eyes. “She lost
all
my savings, you know. In a
very
bad deal.” She delighted in Victoria’s bristling at her twist on things.