Fallen Mangrove (Jesse McDermitt Series Book 5) (21 page)

“Not to worry, Captain,” Thom said, coming back out for two more bags. “You can see the whole dock clearly from any of the west-facing windows. We’ve never had a problem here.”

“Thanks, Thom,” I said. Looking east down the driveway and out over the five villas, I had a partial view of the Atlantic.
Yeah
, I thought,
clear some of these trees and this place would be a fortress.

As Thom led us up the steps to the door, he said, “The master suite is the whole second floor. It has a king-sized bed and a private bath with a shower and bathtub, plus a pull-out sofa. The other three bedrooms are on the main floor, two with queen beds and one with double singles. There are a couple of pull-out beds in the living room, too. More than enough for all of you.”

While Thom brought in the last bags from the cart, we went inside and looked around the house. It was really beautiful with lots of tongue and groove walls and ceilings. The kitchen and one of the bedrooms looked west toward the docks. Each had glass sliding doors opening onto a deck, with a pool and gazebo below.

After Thom left we gathered in the large dining room, which had a breakfast bar big enough to seat all of us. Deuce received a text message from Chyrel and pulled out his laptop. Once he’d connected to the satellite and the connection to Chyrel was made, her face appeared on the screen.

“It took a while,” she said, “and I had to get Jim to help, but we finally found a connection that might interest you.” Jim Franklin is a semiretired CIA surveillance expert. He created a device and a program that, when given a target phone number, can trace and extract other phone numbers called and even identify any active phone that is near the target phone on more than one occasion when a call is made or received.

“First off,” Chyrel said, “I did like you asked, Jesse, and checked Conner’s and Bradbury’s phone records for calls to one another about the same day that Doc came out to the island with his coconut. You were right—Conner called Bradbury early the next morning. The call lasted less than two minutes and it was the first time either of them had called the other.

“Conner’s dirty,” Chyrel continued. “Though we didn’t get any direct connections from Bradbury to anyone other than regular business and personal connections, he’s dirty by association. Conner called a particular number three times in the last week that belongs to one Valentin Madic. The first call was just a few minutes after calling Bradbury.” A surveillance photo appeared showing a man in his fifties, fit-looking and well dressed, with a pocked face. “Madic’s Croatian. Arrived in the States about ten years ago and started building what is now a growing Eastern European mob presence in south Florida. The two goons you guys rousted at the bar work for him.”

Pictures of the two men from the
Anchor
came on the screen. “This is Borislav Varga and Ivo Novosel, both former Croatian military. Varga was drummed out of their army when he was connected to a string of prostitute murders, apparently killing them during intercourse. Novosel was a pilot in their air force, similarly discharged for suspected serial rape against underage girls.”

“That’s a couple of sick pervs,” Charity said. “That’s all they got was a bad discharge?”

“Pretty much,” Chyrel replied. “The Croatian Army looks the other way about certain things that might bring bad press and just gets rid of the offender.”

“Aside from the phone call, how is Bradbury connected,” I asked.

“Madic’s been under surveillance by both Miami-Dade and FDLE for some time. He’s slippery, though, and they haven’t been able to get anything on him. I hacked their files and found surveillance photos of Madic and his two goons, along with an unidentified woman, entering Conner’s office in Cutler Ridge the day after we were all on the island. Bradbury was at the meeting.”

Four photos appeared on the screen. One was of the same pock-faced man with the two guys from the
Anchor
and a dark-haired woman
.
They were walking toward a door in a strip mall. Madic and his goons were looking around as though searching for trouble. The woman’s back was to the photographer and all that could be seen for certain was that she had dark hair. In the second one, Madic was holding the door open for the woman while he and the two guys were again looking around the parking lot. The third photo showed Bradbury getting out of an older Buick sedan, carrying a briefcase and with his coat over his arm. The shadows suggested this picture was taken an hour or more after the first two. The fourth photo was of Conner, shaking hands with Madic just outside the door. The two big men were standing at the open doors of a black sedan, looking in opposite directions. The woman was getting in the backseat of the car, with one long, attractive leg sticking out.

“Apparently,” Chyrel continued, “both Conner and Bradbury had a meeting with Madic.”

“So how do the Maggio law firm and Consuelo Reynolds figure into this?” Deuce asked.

“And who’s the babe?” Tony chimed in.

“There’s nothing in either the Miami-Dade or Florida Department of Law Enforcement files on her, Tony. There’s really not much of a connection, Deuce. The Maggio firm is highly respected in the Cuban community in Miami. They do represent some bad people, though. One of them is Madic and another is Madam Reynolds. There are calls made between Madic and Maggio going back a long time and Madic was surveilled a number of times entering Maggio’s building, but none of those occasions really correspond with the times of the calls to Bradbury. As far as I can tell, Bradbury has never had any contact with the Maggio firm at all. FDLE has been trying to get a wiretap warrant for a while, but so far they haven’t produced enough evidence for a Judge to grant one.”

“Stay on it and tell Jim thanks,” Deuce said and ended the connection.

Deuce looked at Doc, “Together or separate, we’re looking at possibly eleven bad guys that we know of. Maybe more.”

Doc gave it some thought, then said, “Maybe we should call the whole thing off. I don’t want to endanger any of you guys.”

Tony chuckled and said, “We’re not the ones in danger, Doc.”

“It’s your call,” Deuce said. “I think I can speak for everyone here when I say we’ve got your six. Speaking for myself, I don’t like being followed and I really don’t like being shot at. If it was up to me, I’d hunt them all down and make them rue the day they decided to do either.”

“Let’s stick with it, Bob,” Nikki said.

Doc looked at his wife, then nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Our first order of business was setting up sleeping arrangements, then a shower and some rest. Deciding to maintain the appearance of three couples, a Captain, and two crewmen, Bourke and I would stay aboard the
Revenge.
Doc and Nikki protested their room assignment, but since this whole idea was theirs, they finally relented and headed up to the master suite on the second floor. Deuce and Julie took the west-facing bedroom with the queen bed, while Charity took the other queen room that faced the Atlantic. Rusty, as the Captain, would also stay in the house and bunk with Tony in the middle of the three downstairs bedrooms with the two twin beds.

We agreed to rest up for a few hours and then have an early lunch before taking the boat to Hope Town Harbour to refuel and arrange to rent a few golf carts to get around on. Once back aboard the
Revenge
, I showered quickly, and after switching on both the generator and water maker, I crawled into bed for some much-needed rest.

James had discreetly stopped at Ettaleigh’s cottage at her beckoning twice during the day and both times she’d offered him her energy concoction after they’d had sex. When he left that afternoon, she’d made him promise to meet her at the post office dock precisely at seven that evening. She wanted to go to Bluff House on nearby Green Turtle Cay for dinner. While he’d agreed reluctantly, mumbling something about fishing, she knew from past experience that by the time he got off work, he’d be ready to mount anything that moved and was sure to be at the dock at the appointed time.

Her employer was due to arrive in the morning and this would be her last chance to have fun, possibly for quite some time. After tonight she’d have no further use for James and would be throwing herself back into her work.

She opened the bureau and took out a black leather briefcase and placed it on the table. She spun the little wheels to the correct numbers and opened the case. Removing three binders, a notepad, and a few unfiled work-related papers, she carefully pulled on the identification tag that seemed to be sewn into the bottom edge. The false bottom unsnapped and she lifted it out and set it aside.

The inside of the hidden compartment in the briefcase was only an inch thick and lined with red velvet. It contained twelve small bottles in recessed holders, along with an eye dropper, a syringe, a length of rubber tubing, and three very small measuring spoons of different sizes. She removed three of the small bottles and opened them. Retrieving her flask from her purse she filled it nearly full with bottled water and carefully measured in the precise number of drops from each of the three little bottles, then replaced the caps and put them back in the case. After putting the false bottom back in place, she replaced the business contents and locked the case, securing it back in the bureau.

Shaking the flask a few times, which now contained a more powerful dosage, she removed the top and took a small sip of the sweet liquid.
This should be perfect
, she thought.

Putting the flask in her purse, she showered and dressed for the evening. She decided on a black knee-length halter dress with a neckline that nearly reached her naval. It was slit up the right side all the way to her hip. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she put on her best black open-toe high heels. She had every intention of driving the poor boy out of his mind with lust. And then some.

Checking herself in the mirror quickly, she grabbed her purse and left the cottage. It was already seven o’clock, but she knew the young man would be waiting. She doubted he’d be waiting patiently, however.

A few minutes later, as she walked between the two rows of cars in the dock parking lot, she saw James halfway out on the dock. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a light blue button-down shirt, his blond hair ruffled by the light breeze.

Turning the corner and walking slowly down the dock toward him he heard the click of her heels and turned toward her. As she walked seductively toward him under the sparse dock lighting, he became obviously aroused, which excited her even more.

“I’m sorry I’m late, James,” she said with a pout, biting on her lower lip.

“L-late?” James stammered, eyeing her hungrily.

“I’m famished, how about you?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes glued to her cleavage.

She leaned on him and started to remove her heels, then seeing three fishermen watching her, she pretended to stumble and fall into his arms. As he held her she could feel his excitement through the thin material of her dress.

“Oops, maybe I should sit down to take these off.”

She sat on a bench and slowly undid the straps on her heels and removed them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the three fishermen craning their necks for a look down her loose-fitting dress. She put her heels in her purse as she stood up and with a seductive smile asked, “Are we ready?”

“Very ready,” he said hoarsely as he held her hand and helped her down into the little boat. He saw the fishermen and recognized them but was no longer concerned about it getting back to his boss. Right now, he had only one thing on his mind and it’d been that way most of the day.

Once he was seated beside her at the wheel and started the engine, she turned slightly so that her bare thigh was against his. The heat between them was almost unbearable. She knew they weren’t going to arrive at the restaurant anytime soon.

A few minutes later, they were out of the harbor and skipping across the Sea of Abaco at nearly forty miles per hour, headed toward Green Turtle Cay thirty miles to the north.

“Do you think anyone will be at that little beach we visited?” she asked while holding her hair over her left shoulder with one hand and clutching the inside of his thigh with the other.

Without a word, James changed course a few degrees and pushed the throttle a little further. Fifteen minutes later, he slowed the boat as they approached the beach.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” she said. “Can we go ashore? Do you have a blanket or a towel? The stars are beautiful way out here.”

“You’ll ruin your dress,” he replied.

She moved her hand a little higher on his thigh. “I have no intention of wearing it.”

He slowly approached the white sand beach and, seeing no sign of anyone around, he gently nudged the boat up onto the sand and shut off the engine. Silence immediately engulfed them, only the slight wash of their bow wave as it continued down the beach breaking it. Putting one bare foot over the side, he stood up in the knee-deep water.

“I have a blanket in the fish box,” he said.

“It doesn’t smell of fish, does it?”

“I just washed it. Give me just a second.”

He walked forward and grabbed the gunwale, pulling the boat higher onto the beach. Opening the fish box he pulled out a large red beach blanket, walked up to a clear, flat spot, and spread it out on the sand.

When he turned back to the boat, Ettaleigh was standing on the casting deck, backlit by the rising moon. She slowly reached up and untied the top of the dress and let it fall slowly to the deck.

Thirty sweaty, passion-filled minutes later, the two lay next to one another, looking up at the stars that seemed to fill the sky from horizon to horizon. Though he was exhausted, James’s obvious excitement hadn’t dissipated in the least.
Time for round two
, Ettaleigh thought as she rolled over on top of the young man.

When they were underway again, Ettaleigh took a small drink from her flask and offered it to James. The immediate sensation caused by the concoction excited her senses. James took it from her hand and after a long drink, she had to take it back.

“Easy there, big boy,” she said with a knowing smile. “You don’t want to overload your heart.”

When they finally arrived at Bluff House, they were both very hungry and ate ravenously, washing their lobster down with rum cocktails. They spent an hour on the dance floor, gyrating in wild abandon. Every man in the place watched them enviously as they ground against one another during a slow song.

When they finally left and were heading south in the Sea of Abaco, Ettaleigh said, “Slow down a little, I want to ride on the front.” James did as she asked, bringing the little boat down to just a few miles per hour.

Ettaleigh took the flask from her purse and carefully made her way up to the casting deck, where she sat sideways, turning her body and facing forward. Looking back at James, she took a small sip from the flask and smiled seductively in the moonlight.

“Is there a way you can make the boat go straight, without you at the wheel?”

James needed no further prodding than the look she gave him when she drank from the flask once more. His heart began to pound in his chest as he pulled a bungee cord from under the helm and lashed the wheel in place. Standing up, he moved toward Ettaleigh as she rose to a kneeling position on the elevated deck with her back to him. He came up behind her, embracing her and cupping her breasts as she arched her back, pushing back against his groin.

Ettaleigh removed the cap from the flask and took another sip, instantly feeling the rush and tingling sensation it brought on. She turned her head and kissed James passionately as he ground himself against her. When their lips broke free, they were both panting like dogs. While pulling down the zipper of his shorts with one hand, she offered him the flask.

This time, she didn’t stop him or even caution him. Instead, she tugged him free of his shorts, lifted her dress, and guided him, pushing back against his groin. He took her long black hair in one hand and, pulling her head back, began thrusting with wild abandon while he tilted his head to the stars and drank down every drop of the sweet nectar.