Bluewater Enigma Read online

  One had short, wavy blonde hair. That would be Dani Berger, he knew. Liz Chirac was the one with the reddish-blonde hair pulled back into a bun.

  That little shit with the airborne tattoos was right. They were definitely babes. It was too bad the mission precluded physical proximity.

  His eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, he watched as they came almost within arm's distance before they turned to follow the sidewalk to the Port Authority office.

  "Did you want to make a grocery run after we clear in?" Berger asked.

  "We've got all day tomorrow," Chirac said. "Let's chill out this afternoon. We'll bring Vengeance into the marina in the morning and go shopping then. That will save hauling everything out to the anchorage in the dinghy."

  He smiled, admiring the view from behind as they climbed the stairs to the office. Their plans suited him; he could have his men test the surveillance system one last time once they were in the marina. If they found a problem, they'd have a perfect opportunity to fix it while the women were grocery shopping.

  Now that he knew what they were up to, he didn't have to post a watch, either. He could give those two fools a little time off tonight; let them blow off steam. He took a last sip of the fruit punch and left some bills under his glass, including an oversized tip for Annie. She might come in handy; it wouldn't hurt anything for her to remember him favorably.

  8

  "Are you about ready?" Dani called down the companionway to Liz. Vengeance was in a slip in the marina, and Liz was below in the galley, checking her grocery list. They had reserved the slip when they were ashore the previous afternoon, wanting to get an early start on the provisioning this morning. It would be hot later in the day, but they would be done by then, relaxing in the shade of their big cockpit awning.

  "Yes," Liz said. "Almost."

  A minute later, she came up the companionway ladder and sat down near Dani. "Check this over for me and see if I missed anything," she said, handing Dani an index card.

  Dani took it, frowning, and said, "I wouldn't know."

  "Humor me, please. I might have missed something."

  Dani shrugged and looked down at the index card. "No," she said. "It looks good to me. Let's go; we can talk about it on the way. Are we walking or taking the dinghy?"

  "Let's walk over to the place in Gros Islet. We can take the dinghy to the supermarket by the mall; that's too long a hike with groceries."

  "I'm ready," Dani said. "Lock her up."

  Liz closed and locked the companionway doors, and they stepped over the lifelines onto the dock. Once they reached the marina parking lot, Dani broke their silence.

  "We should be okay here," she said. "The note was a clever idea. When did you notice that the surveillance system was active?"

  "When I went into the head to put on fresh sunscreen."

  Marie's technician had mounted a warning light and the switch to disable the system in the medicine cabinet in the head that Dani and Liz used when they had guests.

  "I wonder how long it was on?" Dani asked. "I don't remember seeing it when I was in there."

  "You put on sunscreen right after we tied up in the slip," Liz said.

  "Right. I would have noticed it then, I'm sure."

  "Did you open the cabinet again while I was going through the fridge?" Liz asked.

  "No," Dani said. "So it could have been on for what? Thirty minutes, maybe?"

  "That's about right," Liz said. "Did we say anything damning? Do you even remember what we talked about?"

  "We couldn't have said much. I put on my sunscreen and took my coffee up to the cockpit. You were rummaging in the galley lockers. We might have said something in passing, but nothing important."

  "That's right," Liz said. "I remember now. You complained that it was stuffy in the slip and wondered if we should put up the awnings before we left."

  "Right. And you said you wanted to hurry and go, so we'd get back before it got any hotter. That's about it."

  "Then they didn't get anything," Liz said. "But why do you suppose they were monitoring us? They must know Beverly and what's his name aren't here yet."

  "I don't know," Dani said. "Did you happen to notice anybody nearby? On the dock, or one of the other boats?"

  "No. Why?"

  "I'm wondering how they activated it. Marie said there was a proximity key, remember?"

  "Yes," Liz said. "Wi-Fi, maybe?"

  "No, she said the Wi-Fi would only work if the system was already activated. It had to be somebody nearby with a proximity key, whatever that is. I wish I had asked more questions, now."

  "Like how close they had to be?" Liz asked.

  "Yes."

  "Let's just call her and ask," Liz said.

  "Sometimes I think you're a genius," Dani said, slipping her phone out of her pocket. She scrolled through her contacts and touched Marie LaCroix's number. In a few seconds, she shook her head. "Voicemail," she said.

  "You could have left a message," Liz said.

  "I'll send her a text. I should have thought of that to begin with." Dani's thumbs flew over the screen. "There. We'll probably get our answer more quickly, anyway."

  "Good," Liz said, "let's hurry and get the shopping done. Now I'm curious to see if the system's still active when we get back."

  "Me, too. I guess we'd better start assuming somebody's listening, unless we check that indicator light. Now I wish we'd had him put it somewhere easier to see."

  "Too late to second-guess ourselves," Liz said. "It will be fine, once the guests are aboard. We'll be on guard anyway, with them around."

  Guillermo Montalba was lost in thought when the encrypted cellphone rang. He picked it up from his desk and accepted the call.

  "Yes?"

  "Good morning. Our surveillance team is in place in St. Lucia. Berger and Chirac returned to the boat and took it out of the marina sometime in the last few days. When the team resumed their watch yesterday, the boat was anchored out in the bay. They brought the boat back in this morning, and they're getting ready for the arrival of Velasquez and the woman."

  "Are your people ready?"

  "Yes, sir. They tested the surveillance equipment this morning and were able to hear the women discussing going to the grocery store. Hardly exciting intelligence, but we know the system is working."

  "Good," Montalba said.

  "Are Velasquez and the woman still expected this afternoon?" the man on the phone asked.

  "Yes. She's ready. I met with her last night and covered the last-minute things."

  "She will have them leave St. Lucia for Bequia tomorrow morning, still?"

  "Yes," Montalba said. "And she will request that they hug the shoreline as they pass St. Vincent, as you suggested."

  "Berger and Chirac won't like that. The wind shadow of the island means they'll have to run the diesel for that whole stretch. I'm sure they'll try to convince the woman — "

  "Her name is Beverly Lennox," Montalba interrupted. "Stop calling her 'the woman.'"

  "Sorry, sir. They'll no doubt try to talk Beverly Lennox into allowing them to pass well out to the west of the island — probably ten miles or more. They would have a sailing wind out there, and the trip would be more pleasant."

  "She's prepared for that; she's an amateur photographer, and she's taking her camera equipment. She wants to be close inshore so that she can photograph the hillsides. She's their paying customer. They'll accommodate her."

  "As long as they're not more than three miles out, preferably closer. The patrol boat can't go farther than three miles to the west unless they're in hot pursuit. Plus, there's the endurance question."

  "What endurance question?" Montalba asked.

  "The ability of the boat to stay at sea. The people we've made our arrangement with only have access to smaller patrol boats. An intercept far out to the west would require one of their larger vessels, and our contacts don't have that authority."

  "I see. They do understand what's expected of them, don
't they?"

  "Yes, sir. They'll carry out a routine boarding and search the vessel for contraband under the pretext of a safety inspection. That's a relatively common thing. Berger and Chirac should take it in stride, at least until they find the drugs."

  "All right," Montalba said. "And do they know where to look?"

  "Yes, sir. Our team provided them marked-up photographs of the concealed contraband. An idiot would be able to find it."

  "Once they find it, what happens?"

  "The boarding crew will confiscate the drugs and document the search and seizure using their normal report forms."

  "But no official report will be filed, is that correct?"

  "Yes, sir. They will have a private conversation with Velasquez — rather, Jeffrey Starnes. They will believe that he's a wealthy person, since he's chartered this luxury yacht. They will offer to 'lose' the report in exchange for whatever amount of money they can negotiate with him. Of course, this will all be recorded by the surveillance system. Then we will have implicated him in the crime of bringing illegal drugs into the waters of St. Vincent, as well as bribing law enforcement. This is all in accordance with your wishes, still?"

  "Yes. That's perfect. What will happen as far as paperwork is concerned?"

  "The boarding party will fill out two reports. One will describe a routine boarding where nothing was found, and the other will cover the confiscation of the drugs. They will have Berger sign them both, as she is the captain. They'll be mixed together, and she'll have a number of things to sign. She won't realize there are two conflicting reports. The original and the carbon copy of the report listing the drugs will be given to our field manager, who will forward them to me. Berger will be provided a copy of the routine boarding report, and the boarding party will file the original of the routine report through their chain of command as they normally would."

  "So I will have the only record of the seizure of the drugs, then?"

  "Yes, sir, once I forward it to you. I'm sure that Berger and Chirac will keep their mouths shut. They'll probably find out about the bribe from Velasquez and Lennox, but they won't dare say anything to anybody. They'll be relieved that their boat wasn't confiscated."

  "Good. Thank you for the explanation."

  "You're welcome, sir. Anything else?"

  "No."

  "I'll call after the boarding has taken place, then."

  "I will be waiting," Montalba said, disconnecting the call.

  "Welcome aboard Vengeance," Liz said, as she took Beverly Lennox's hand and helped her up from the marina's floating dock. "I'm Liz Chirac, and this is my partner Dani Berger. She's the captain of your yacht, and I'm the first mate."

  "And a gourmet chef, from what the broker told me. I'm Beverly Lennox, and this is Harry Starnes."

  Harry stepped aboard without Liz's help. Once on deck, he grasped her right hand in his, he covered it with his left and shook it with enthusiasm. With a wide grin, he said, "It's great to be here, Liz. Call me Harry."

  "We're glad to have you with us, Harry." Liz said, glancing around to see Beverly shaking hands with Dani.

  When Dani shook Harry's hand, she asked, "How was the taxi from the airport? Did Felix take good care of you?"

  "He did," Beverly said. "He gave us a good bit of background on St. Lucia, too. I guess you know he's a tour guide; he's full of interesting information."

  "Yes, he is," Dani said. "He's our first choice for tours here in St. Lucia."

  "He'll bring your luggage down to us in a minute or two," Liz said. "Why don't we move back to the cockpit? It's nice and shady under the awning, and I have a little fruit and cheese platter set out."

  She shepherded them to seats in the shade and asked, "What can I get you to drink? We have a good selection of wine, cold beer, and whatever else you'd like — whiskey, rum, the usual."

  "I read about this St. Lucia rum in the airline magazine," Harry said. "It got rave reviews, but I can't remember what it was called."

  "Chairman's Reserve?" Liz asked.

  "That's it!"

  "We have a bottle. It's quite good, but Dani and I both prefer Saint James Reserve from over in Martinique. We keep it aboard, too. If you like rum, you'll want to try them both while you're with us."

  "Where'd Dani go?" Beverly asked.

  "She and Felix are putting your luggage in your stateroom. She'll be — "

  "Hi," Dani said, climbing up the companionway ladder and stepping into the cockpit. "I put your bags in the big locker by your berth. Felix said to tell you he enjoyed chatting with you on the drive."

  "He's gone?" Harry asked. "But I didn't pay him."

  "We take care of that," Dani said. "Don't worry."

  "I'll get you that rum, Harry," Liz said. "The Chairman's Reserve?"

  "Sure."

  "If you don't mind a suggestion," Dani said, "it's nice on the rocks, with a twist of lime."

  "Sounds great," Harry said.

  "Good," Liz said. "One Chairman's Reserve, rocks and lime. Beverly, what can I get for you?"

  "Do you have a dry white wine?"

  "We do," Liz said, standing up. "Dani?"

  "White wine's fine for me, thanks." Dani slid into the place where Liz had been sitting. "How were your flights?"

  "They were flights," Beverly said. "On time, no problems. Crowded, but that's flying these days."

  "I like traveling at seven or eight knots, myself," Dani said. "Liz and I both hate flying; we did more than enough in our former lives. The flying itself is okay, but the hassle at the airports is awful. It's gotten worse since we quit flying all the time."

  "Your former lives? What did you do before?" Beverly asked.

  "I worked in a family business in New York, and Liz worked for the E.U. in Brussels," Dani said.

  Liz set the drinks tray on the table and sat down. "I brought these little welcome-aboard shots of a rum-based liqueur called 'Shrub,'" she said. "It's a tradition of ours, if it's okay with you."

  "Sure," Beverly said.

  Harry nodded, smiling.

  Liz passed the shot glasses around the table.

  "To traveling under sail," she said, lifting her glass. "We're pleased you chose to spend your holiday with us."

  The other three touched the rims of their tiny glasses to Liz's.

  "Cheers," Harry said, and slugged down the shot. "Oh, boy! That is good."

  Liz smiled. "Every island has its rum drink, but this one's special. It's from Martinique; it's white rum with a secret mix of herbs, spices, and fruit. They age it in the sun, like sun-tea, but with a kick. A friend of ours made this batch. Everybody over there has their own recipe. Help yourselves to some fruit and cheese."

  Dani took a sip of her wine and said, "I don't want to rush you, but if you want to leave St. Lucia tomorrow, I should hustle over to the Port Authority office in the next half hour and clear us out. Have you thought about where you'd like to go while you're with us?"

  "Bequia was recommended by a friend," Beverly said. "Is it far?"

  "It's a nice day's sail," Liz said, "and it's a magical place. It's one of our favorite spots. We'll want to get a reasonably early start, so we can get in before dark. It's a fabulous spot to watch the sunset."

  "I'm sold," Beverly said. "Okay with you, Harry?"

  "Sure," he said, spearing a melon cube wrapped in prosciutto and popping it in his mouth.

  "Then if you'll let me have your passports," Dani said, "I'll go handle our departure clearance. I need to get our papers."

  She gathered up the four shot glasses and took them below. In a minute, she returned with a canvas briefcase and collected Beverly's and Harry's passports.

  "I'll be back shortly," she said.

  9

  "Too bad she wants to hug the coast," Dani said. They were motor sailing at nine knots, about a mile off St. Lucia's western shore. "It's a beautiful day; we'd be having a glorious sail if we were out there." She was looking at the western horizon.

  "It's her mon
ey," Liz said. "And she'll probably get some nice shots of the shoreline."

  Dani shrugged, tweaking the autopilot. Beverly was on the foredeck with her camera, happily snapping away. Harry sat on the forward end of the coachroof, chatting with her and sipping coffee from a mug. Their conversation wasn't audible over the soft rumble of the diesel, but every minute or two, Beverly would turn to Harry and say something, and he'd hand her the coffee mug so that she could take a sip.

  "Isn't that sweet?" Liz asked. "At first, I was afraid he was going to be a jerk."

  Dani glared at her and put her index finger across her lips, shaking her head.

  "It's okay," Liz said. "I switched it off. There wasn't anything to record, and the engine noise below deck would drown out anything anyway. Besides, the light wasn't on."

  "Oh, okay," Dani said. "We need to be careful, though. We mustn't get careless. Wonder why it wasn't on? Maybe that proximity thing has a manual switch on it."

  "Maybe," Liz said. "That would make sense. Marie's text said most of them worked from several yards away, but it wasn't on. Either they can switch it on and off, or it's broken. Which one is the keeper of the key, do you suppose?"

  Dani thought for a few seconds. "She is. She seems more on top of things than he does."

  "You think she's setting him up, then?"

  "That's my bet," Dani said. "Why did you say you thought he was a jerk at first?"

  "Maybe jerk's not the right word. He seemed phony at first, starting with that two-handed handshake and the big grin. I noticed he didn't do that when he shook your hand. Wonder why?"

  "He's got the hots for you," Dani said, an impish smile on her face.

  Liz stared at her for a moment. "You're teasing me."

  "Yes, but I still think he has the hots for you," Dani said. "I saw how he shook your hand; it made my skin crawl. I took defensive measures."

  "What did you do?"