Jay Giles (32 page)
On Wednesday, Ellsworth called. “Mr. Seattle,” he said politely. “We need to talk.” When I hesitated, he said, “Now.”
On my drive to the police station, I copied what I’d seen
Tara
do. I checked my mirrors, watched the cars behind me, took a circuitous route. This late in the game I didn’t want D’Onifrio’s people seeing me going to the police.
Ellsworth didn’t offer me Starbuck’s, only a brusque “Sit down.”
When I was seated, he handed me a stack of eight and a half by eleven black-and-white glossy photos.
“These were taken at Sarasota/Bradenton International Airport earlier this afternoon.”
I looked at the top photo.
“That’s Enrico Menendez.” The photo showed a stooped, older man with a lined face and thinning hair walking across the tarmac from a private jet.
I went to the second photo.
“Little Ernie. Behind him, on the right, is Paso Diaz, head of security. They brought fifteen bodyguards on this trip. That’s a lot of muscle, even for them.”
I placed Little Ernie’s photo on the desk next to Enrico’s. Looked at the next one.
“That’s the other nephew, Eduardo.”
I put his photo next to Little Ernie’s, studied the nephews. They looked like brothers; both had the same dark hair brushed back, the same round face, the same slash of a mouth. Little Ernie wore a goatee, Eduardo, a moustache. Little Ernie looked shorter and thicker than his brother. No one—in any of the photos—was smiling.
“The rest are close-ups of the bodyguards, shots of the limos that took them to the Colony.”
I rifled through those quickly, placed them in a pile on the desk.
Ellsworth gathered the photos, put them in a certain order, set them on the side of his desk. He leaned back in his chair. “Did seeing them make these people real for you? Do you understand that each one of these men has been responsible for multiple deaths?”
I nodded, said nothing.
“Keeping you alive isn’t going to be easy.”
Again, I nodded, said nothing.
“Don’t make it harder than it already is,
Seattle
. I know you’re planning something; tell me what.”
There was no mistaking the threat in Ellsworth’s voice. “All Raines told me was he wanted to catch D’Onifrio with Rosemary. He didn’t tell me how or where he planned to do that.”
“Then why did you go to City Hall with him?”
“He wanted me to see the place. His idea was for D’Onifrio to bring Rosemary to the wedding, make the exchange there. But D’Onifrio wouldn’t agree to it.”
“Of course not. D’Onifrio’s not going to put himself in a position where he can be caught with this woman. So what’s the plan, now?”
“I don’t know that there is one.”
Ellsworth stared at me, frowned. “I could put you in protective custody, keep you alive.”
“You could, but he said he’d kill Rosemary if I’m not there. If you want to help us, don’t let them take us out of that building.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do what I need to do—even if you aren’t leveling with me.”
Having made his point, he told me to go. I did. I drove home hurriedly. In my condo, I paced from room to room. Maybe Ellsworth had been right; seeing those pictures did make it real. I was definitely more tense. I started to put on my workout clothes, picked up the phone instead, dialed Tory’s number.
“Hello,” I said after she answered. “I was wondering if you had plans for dinner.”
“My plans included cold, left-over pizza.”
“I can do better than that.”
“I was hoping you could.”
“How about if I pick you up in an hour?”
“I’ll be ready.”
When I pulled in the drive, she was sitting on her porch. She smiled, stood, walked down two steps to the drive. I got out of the car, opened her door for her.
“Thanks,” she said as she slid in the seat.
I got in my side, backed up, headed for a place a mile or so down the beach from her place called the Sandbar.
“This is better than cold pizza,” she said when I pulled into their parking lot.
The Sandbar had good food and a location that provided panoramic views of the beach. In season, we’d have had to wait an hour for a table on the deck overlooking the Gulf. In August, five minutes.
“What prompted this?” Tory asked when we were seated.
“We probably have some business that needs discussing, but mostly, I wanted to see you.”
She smiled.
Our waiter arrived, gave us menus, took drink orders, and left.
Tory reached in her black bag, took out a five-by-seven printed booklet, handed it to me. “A stack of those came today from Bill Perez. I dropped off two dozen with Raines.”
I examined the booklet. The cover was dark blue, the logo of the Foundation for Latina Speech and Hearing Services imprinted in silver. Inside, on the left-hand page, was the agenda for the evening. The page on the right included a photo of D’Onifrio and a bio listing his accomplishments. The next left-hand page showed the rest of the evening’s award recipients. Five smaller awards were also being handed out. The rest was about the organization.
“Raines thinks he can fit my little write-up in this?”
She nodded. “That’s what he said. He’ll have people positioned as ushers who’ll watch for Enrico and the nephews, hand them the doctored programs.”
Our drinks arrived. I raised mine. “Here’s to pulling this off.”
She clinked glasses with me. “It’s going to go swimmingly. I know it is.”
I took a sip, put my glass down on the table. “Ellsworth wanted to see me today. Showed me pictures of Enrico, Little Ernie, and Eduardo walking from their private jet. Questioned me about what Raines was planning.”
“You say that like he’s planning trouble.”
“He might. He says they’ll cooperate, but there’s something between him and Raines.”
“Raines seemed pretty confident when I talked to him. He has forty agents working on this. He said he had D’Onifrio under twenty-four hour surveillance, scenarios for everything that could possibly happen. He also suggested I spend Friday at his headquarters. He said I might be able to help and would be safe there.”
It felt reassuring to hear that Raines had forty agents, more reassuring to know Tory would be safe. Some of my doubt about Raines vanished.
“The lovebirds seem happy, too. Frankie has been taking Janet places, spending money on her. That seems to be what she wants, constant attention.”
“No chance she’ll stand him up at the altar?”
“The limo’s to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Our waiter returned. “Have you folks decided yet, or do you need a little more time?”
We opted for more time. We weren’t in any hurry.
“Has he had any more conversations with D’Onifrio?”
“They talk every day. My sense is things must be getting better. Frankie seems more upbeat and confident that he’s actually going on his honeymoon.”
“Nothing more we need to do for him?”
She shook her head.
“Anything more we need to do for anybody?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then the business part of this meeting is adjourned; on to more pleasant topics.”
She grinned. “And what might those be?”
“You and me, of course,” I said lightly. “I want to know all about you.”
We traded stories over dinner and coffee. Went for a walk on the beach. Talked more. It must have been eleven by the time I drove her home. Even then, we sat in the car talking. Neither one of us wanted the evening to end.
I walked her to the door. She leaned forward and kissed me. It was a kiss meant to be quick. It quickly turned into something far more. Reluctantly, we parted.
“There’ll be time for us once this is finished,” she said, smiling.
Thursday morning at seven-thirty I called Dr. Swarthmore.
“Matt, good to hear from you. Things are going well, I hope?”
“That’s why I’m calling. I think they are going well. I’ve met someone, a lady by the name of Tory Wright.” In the background, I heard the scratching sound of her pen taking notes.
“The two of you are attracted to each other? You have told her how you feel?”
“Yes. To both. I surprised myself. I opened up.”
She gave a little dry laugh. “Felt good, didn’t it?”
“You know, Adelle, it did.”
“And you don’t feel guilt, do you?”
“No guilt. Uncertainty. But no guilt.”
“It’s natural for you to feel some uncertainty. However, if you are attracted to each other, the uncertainty will work itself out as your relationship deepens. This is the best kind of therapy for you, Matt.”
“Sure feels like it. Adelle, thanks for getting me this far. I want you to know I appreciate all you’ve done, all these phone calls you’ve taken at odd hours of the day and night.”
“Thank you, Matt. That’s very kind. Stay in touch.”
“You know I will. Bye, Adelle.” I rang off.
I made myself some breakfast. Cheerios, half a grapefruit, orange juice, coffee. Went over my plan for the day. Workout, walk on the beach, visit with Dan, maybe play a little golf. I’d just finished breakfast when the phone rang. I carried dishes over to the counter, picked up the receiver. “Matt Seattle.”
“It’s Raines. I think it would be good if we went over plans one final time.”
“Okay.”
“Here’s what I want you to do. At eleven, be at Mote Marine Lab.” It was a marine research facility on the south end of Longboat Key that had become a tourist attraction. “A woman will be waiting for you by the windows to the Manatee exhibit.”
“I’ll be there.”
I looked at my watch. Eight. I punched in Dan’s number. When he picked up, I said, “Dan, Matt. I thought maybe I’d stop by if you’d like a little company.”
“I’m going crazy, Matt.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour, and you can tell me about it.”
I hadn’t seen Dan since Tuesday, when I’d dropped by in the afternoon. He looked more haggard, seemed more depressed. We sat in the living room.
“I think the police know things they aren’t telling me,” he said wearily. “I talked to Ellsworth yesterday afternoon, and he told me they’d know something Saturday. When I pressed him on why Saturday, he clammed up. What’s that mean, Matt?”
“Sound like he’s got a lead but won’t know anything definite until then. He may not be hiding anything; he may just not want to get your hopes up.”
Dan rubbed his face with his hands. “This waiting, not knowing anything, is eating me up.”
We talked for another hour. I listened, tried to offer reassurance, got him talking sports. Dan was a huge Tampa Bay Bucs fan. I also watched the clock. At ten-thirty, I stood, told him I had to go. He walked to the car with me.
“Thanks for coming by,” he said as I opened the car door.
“Hang in there. Things are going to get better.”
He nodded, but the look on his face said he didn’t believe me.
I had to hustle to get to the Mote by eleven. The place was filled with vacationers, from kids to empty nesters. At the Manatee exhibit a lone woman stood off to the side, watching. I started toward her. She nodded me off. I walked on to the main window, watched the Manatees swim.
She waited five minutes, walked over to me. “I needed to make sure no one was following you. We can go now.”
She led me out an employee’s entrance to a van parked behind the building. We got in. She drove nervously to the parking garage of a downtown Sarasota office building, parked, led me inside.
She took me to a large, windowless room on one of the building’s upper floors. On the walls were maps, blow-ups of floor plans. In the center of the room, a large square table held computers, telecommunications equipment. Raines and three men were huddled together around one of the computers. He looked over when we entered the room, came over, shook my hand. “This is our situation room,” he said by way of a greeting. “Everything that happens tomorrow we’re going to monitor from here.”
This is where Tory’s going to be,” I said making the connection.
He stroked his moustache, nodded. “She may be able to help. Her dealings with Bill Perez may come into play as the evening progresses.” He went over to one of the computers, booted it up. “I want you to know what we’ll be doing tomorrow.” He patted the top of the monitor. “We’ll be tracking D’Onifrio every step of the way. Any activity, any movement by his people will be reported here. Ten agents will be at City Hall. Thirty more will be ready to move as directed.”
“Do you know where he has Rosemary?”
“No. We theorize she’s being held at someone’s house. If that’s the case, there’s no way to find her now. As things develop tomorrow, they’ll have to move her. We’ll be monitoring their activity and that’ll tell us where they have her.” He keyed something into the computer. “Here’s our coverage in and around City Hall. We have agents stationed near all the exits. Nobody will be able to enter or leave without our knowing about it.”
“Let me tell you my biggest fear.”
Raines turned away from the computer screen, looked at me, his face expressionless.
“They don’t bring Rosemary. The more I think about this, the more I think D’Onifrio’s too smart to be caught with her. What happens then?”
“We have several scenarios in case that happens,” Raines said matter-of-factly. “Remember, this thing has been billed as a trade. If they don’t bring her, they’ll have to talk to you, broker arrangements. Otherwise, there’s no deal; you don’t go with them. You don’t leave City Hall. Once we know where she is, we’ll get her, get you out of there.” He turned back to the computer screen. “That’s why we have agents in all these locations.” He indicated agents spread from
Bradenton
to
Venice
. “Wherever she is, we want to be able to get to her fast.”
Made sense. “Let me tell you my second biggest fear.”
That got a wan smile.
“What if this awards presentation doesn’t come off? What if D’Onifrio cancels at the last minute? If Enrico and the nephews don’t show up? What happens then?”
“Nothing.”
The surprise must have shown on my face.
“You’ve got to understand, my main concern is getting the Shears woman back and not having an incident at City Hall. If—and it’s a big if—we can pit D’Onifrio against Enrico or the nephews, that’s icing. I’m not counting on it. I won’t be surprised if it doesn’t work. This whole awards presentation, missing-money thing is flimsy at best.”
Hearing him say his main concern was Rosemary helped me. In the back of my mind was Ellsworth’s comment that all Raines cared about was getting D’Onifrio.
When I didn’t say anything, he looked at me, half-smiled. “What? You aren’t going to tell me your third biggest fear?”
“I just had the two,” I said quietly. “You seem to have things under control.”
“That’s why I brought you here. To see for yourself that we’re on top of the situation. We’ve got this thing mapped out. If anything feels wrong to you—at any time—let us know; we’ll shut it down.”
“How do I do that?”
“My people will be in room 410 with you. All you have to say is I’m not comfortable. They’ll know to get you out of there.”
“What if D’Onifrio has people there, too?”
“That’s why you’ve got the vest.”
On that happy note, the conversation ended, and Raines had the woman take me back to Mote. I drove home, changed into some trunks, and went for a walk on the beach. I walked hurriedly, fueled by tension.
If Raines thought seeing his operation eased my concerns, he was wrong. I didn’t have a clear understanding of what he expected from me. Couldn’t imagine how I was going to broker arrangements. Nor did I understand how he was going to liberate Rosemary. How was I going to alert Raines’ people where she was being held? I should have asked more questions, pinned him down on exactly how all this was going to work. Maybe I hadn’t asked because I really didn’t want to know. If I knew the details of what was about to happen, I might not want to go through with it. The fact that Raines had given me the vest told me he thought there could be trouble.
I walked to the pier at the Colony Beach, where Enrico and his entourage were staying, turned around, headed back. I didn’t worry on the way back. I watched for shark’s teeth. Found one good one just as I reached the Watergate.
About six, I got hungry, made myself something to eat. After dinner, I called Tory.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I just want to get tomorrow over with.”
“I don’t blame you.”
I told her about the meeting with Raines, that he seemed to have things under control.
“That’s what I got from him when I took him the awards booklets. He seemed confident that he had all the possibilities covered.”
“We’ll find out tomorrow,” I said a little apprehensively. “Since I won’t have a chance to see you tomorrow, I thought I’d see if you wanted to get together Saturday evening.”
“I’d like that.”
“Pick you up at six thirty?”
“See you then. Good luck tomorrow.”
I hung up, aware of the real reason I’d called her. If I made plans for Saturday, that meant I couldn’t die on Friday.
In spite of all Raines’ assurances that nothing would happen to me, I kept seeing Wilder shoot Eddie. If Wilder got his hands on me, it wouldn’t be as quick or painless.
I puttered around the rest of the evening, went to bed at eleven, slept well. No dreams. That morning I did comfortable, familiar things. Worked out in the gym. Walked on the beach. Mostly I tried to stay positive. The closer it got to two o’clock, the more nervous I became. By lunch my stomach was in a knot.
After lunch, I changed clothes, put on the bulletproof jacket, a bulky shirt to hide it. Before I left, I spent a long time looking at photos of Claire and the kids. At one o’clock, I put them away, went out to face whatever was waiting for me.
