Connections: Conexiones (Mercenaries Book 3) Read online

  “Well done,” Ian said. “Possibly a viable connection.” He sighed and looked into Beckie’s eyes. “Promise me you will write notes with more clarity, should you find it necessary. Is Ms Rochambeau going to visit Goldfarb? Does she believe he is a person we should investigate? How might he be connected to Ms Ardan’s ordeal?”

  “Well, given Abby’s not here to explain herself, let’s do what she expected us to do when she wrote this.”

  “What would that be, Rebecca?”

  “I think Abby’s sent you this because she depends on you to help her. Now, what she might view as help is problematic.” Both Ian and Boynton smiled. Well, Boynton smirked. “Yeah, I know,” Beckie continued, “easy for me to say. But she’s smart enough to realize going alone is foolish when the team’s ready to help for nothing but the asking.

  “However, Abby’s nothing if not proud. Could be Amy’d have some insight, you know. And we promised to keep her up to date.”

  “Millie would have to know as well. How will you dissuade Ms Ardan from attempting to join us?”

  “By saying ‘No!’ as forcefully and as often as I need to. I have no interest in putting her at risk. Millie will back us up. And—”

  “I notice you keep saying ‘us.’ What about your school?”

  Beckie could feel the blood rushing to her face. She looked down at the passport lying on the napkin. “Ah. School. I forgot… They…” She forced a neutral expression to her face and body before looking up. “I got a call from the Dean of Students. She believes I would be better off leaving this semester and returning when I can apply my talents to attending class more often.”

  “You’ve been thrown out,” Boynton said with that little smile of his, as if he’d known it all along.

  “In words of one syllable, yeah.” She looked at her hands, writhing as she twisted them together. “Until January.”

  “Do you believe you will be able to put our work aside in January?”

  “I can’t answer that, Ian. Will something come up I can help with? Maybe Shalin and Kevin’s kids’ll be stolen? All I can say is I’ll try.”

  “Your parents… This violates the spirit of our implicit agreement with them.”

  Beckie shoved the chair back; she reached to catch it, but missed. Crying, she ran to the railing overlooking the ocean and vaulted over. When she hit the sand four feet below, she thought, Damn, that was stupid. Ankle still hurts. She took a deep breath and ran to the ocean.

  Why’d he have to bring the parents into this? That’s not fair! I can’t control what happens, only how I react to it. She ran into the low surf until she had to swim, then she swam another few yards. Not getting any smarter, am I? Weighed down by the wet jeans and shirt, she wriggled out of them and, holding the bundle on her chest, did a one-handed backstroke back to the beach. The waves helped, allowing her to awkwardly surf until she hit her head on the compacted sand.

  She threw the clothes over her head and turned to swim out. I need to work… No, damn it! I need to apologize to Ian. This acting like a baby; it won’t work. It doesn’t even make me feel better!

  She flipped over and headed toward the beach. She tossed her head to clear the salt water from her eyes and nose. A tall form stood in the shallows. Well, yeah, you didn’t think he’d let you stay out here alone, did you?

  She swam to knee-deep water and stood in front of him. “I’m sorry, Ian. That was so completely uncalled for… I wouldn’t blame you if you threw me out again. I wouldn’t like it, but I deserve it, this time.”

  “Never. Would you like these?” He was holding her dripping clothes.

  She waded to him, took the bundle and pitched it further up the beach. “Too cold in these wet things.” She unhooked her bra, then shoved her panties down.

  Ian looked a moment. “Surely you will be chilly.”

  She felt a shiver, but it wasn’t the cold. She held out her hands to him. “Surely you will warm me.”

  He removed his shirt and pulled it around her shoulders as she hugged herself to his warm bare chest.

  Amy’s Message

  In the bright sunlight of morning, Beckie led Ian to the kitchen, where, as she was coming to expect, the coffee maker chimed as she reached for a pair of cups.

  As they enjoyed the Jamaican Blue Mountain, she said, “You know, I was right. Abby does have a lawyer friend.” Ian said nothing; rather, he gave her an inquisitive look. “That newspaper article Derek sent us. Not only did it mention Goldfarb, but Abby’s lawyer, too, an Eilís O’Bannon… though why she needed an attorney is another question.”

  “According to everything I could find,” Boynton said, “anyone dealing with Talos would be well advised to bring their own legal team.”

  “Ah. Well, I noticed it then, but forgot it till now. I’ll call her later; see if she knows anything. But now…” She pulled her phone out and scrolled to Amy’s number. She slid it across the table. Ian looked quickly, then nodded.

  She punched Talk. “Amy? You ready for the day? I’ll be over in ten minutes, so get outta the PJ’s!”

  Thirty minutes later, she led Amy to the table on the lanai. Boynton was just setting pastries and fresh coffee to the side. “Or would you prefer tea, Miss Amy?” She shook her head and he left.

  Ian entered as Boynton disappeared. “Good morning, Amy Rose. How are you today?”

  “Fine, except hungry for one of those rolls and jealous—” She clapped a hand over her mouth, red flowing up her cheeks.

  “Jealous?”

  Beckie laughed, and it set Amy off. “Yeah! It’s just so obvious that you guys… well… You know,” she finished weakly.

  “Amy,” Beckie heard Millie from just off the lanai, announcing her arrival, “intellectually, you know couples… enjoy themselves.”

  “Yeah, Mom, but Beckie so enjoys it!”

  “And it’s polite not to mention it in public. That aside, why are we invited to interrupt the love birds this beautiful morning?”

  Beckie glanced at Ian, who nodded back. That wonderful smile, God, I love him!

  “Com’on here to the table,” she said. “We got this from Abby.” She pointed to the envelope. “Actually, I guess it came yesterday morning, but we opened it last night. By the time we got to where we could call you, it was too late, so…”

  Amy was wiping crumbs from the passport from her fingers while Millie read the note about the passport. Amy picked up the envelope with Ian’s name and looked at him. When he nodded, she slid the paper from within and read it.

  “Jesus, this is just like her!”

  “Amy, there’s no call for—”

  “Sorry, Mom.” She handed the note over.

  “What does this mean?”

  ^“We were hoping for a reading from Amy.”

  Amy’s glance snapped to Beckie, then she picked up the paper again. “Well, she does like to talk in codes. But, I don’t think I’ve heard this, exactly…”

  “Dewey Cheatum and Howe is a derogatory way to refer to a law firm—”

  “Oh, I get it. That’s good! And the JD? Not juvenile delinquent, I guess?”

  “Juris Doctor. A law degree, if we didn’t get the first reference. And the guy’s name is from the trial Ian told you about. The defense attorney.”

  “So…” Amy took the note to the railing Beckie had vaulted. She looks more stable than me, though. Beckie glanced around; everyone, even Boynton, was intent on the girl in shorts and hip-length robe leaning against the deck rail. She was as oblivious to her audience. Her eyes scanned back and forth over the words. She lifted the paper to her face, breathing in any scent it might have had left. After a minute, she folded the note and wiped her eye. “I don’t know what I can tell you.” Her voice caught twice as she spoke.

  “Well, I don’t want to put words in your mouth, so… Why did she send this, addressed to Ian?”

  “Oh! To tell him what she was doing. Going after this guy…” She looked at the note again. “… Goldfarb. And telling M
r. Jamse it’d be okay if he helped out.” She lifted her gaze to Ian. “That’s why she sent it to you.” Once again, she wiped her overflowing eyes. “She thinks a lot of you, you know. Everyone, really, but you and Mr. Hamilton are top of her list.” She walked back to the table. “May I keep this?” she said, not extending the hand with the note. “Please?”

  “Of course. We are confident there is no secret ink message.”

  “So, if we went after her—”

  Amy’s voice stopped her. “Can I—”

  The chorus of “No’s” was deafening, even to Beckie.

  “Com’on, Amy.” She pulled the girl’s hand down from her face where she was covering her tears and led her outside. Back on the beach, she put an arm around Amy’s shoulders, but didn’t resist when Amy turned to hug her with everything she had. “We talked about this, remember? You’re not healed, yet, and you’re still fifteen, and—”

  “And, and, and!” she cried into Beckie’s neck. “I just… She wouldn’t be in this mess if… if I hadn’t been so stupid!”

  “I thought we punched this ticket already. You’re not stupid, and neither is Abby. You got fooled by some guy who gave you a pretty good reason to believe what he was selling. Like I said, they wouldn’t have stopped there, even if you’d talked to your mom, or me or Shalin. Or even Abby.”

  “But… I feel so helpless.”

  “Com’on, walk with me. Let’s wade along the water, okay?”

  Beckie started with her arm around Amy’s shoulder, but in a few yards, shifted to holding her hand. A quick glance back showed her Ian was following at a respectable distance. She held Amy to a slow pace, drifting in and out of the waves.

  She looked at Amy, who was looking out to sea. The girl’s eyes were wide and her face looked drawn. As she asked “What?” she followed Amy’s gaze.

  “Nothing,” Amy said. “Trying to… I don’t know, exactly. Just thinking about Abby.”

  “Yeah.” She looked back again; this time Ian waved toward the dock. “Let’s see what Ian has in mind.”

  Ian was waiting as they approached the dock. As they came up on it, suddenly Amy fell to her knees and dropped back to sit cross-legged. Her elbows hit her knees and her face landed in her hands.

  “Okay, girl, what’s the matter now?” Beckie said as she waved Ian to a walk.

  “I am so stupid!” Amy screamed into her hands. “I know how…” She took Beckie’s hand and helped pull herself up. “Abby’s private email. I’ve known all along. And a number that used to be good for texting, too,” although Beckie could see more doubt as Amy said that.

  “And what will you send?” Ian said.

  “To tell her I’m okay and with you guys, and safe. Even if I can’t go.”

  “You know you can’t go. We’ve had that conversation.”

  Amy’s head drooped and she shoved her hands into the pockets of the short robe she was wearing. “Yeah, I know. But…” Her head came up and her eyes flashed. “… I still want to come and help.”

  “Letting Abby know you’re safe will help. Maybe she’ll even come back.”

  Amy looked out over the ocean to the east. “No,” she finally said. “Not till she’s done. But it’ll help if she knows I’m safe. And if she expects Mr. Jamse to help.”

  Ian had landed the skiff and walked with them to the security office. As Beckie looked around to see who was there, Amy said, “I’ll need my phone.” Millie dug in her pocket and slid a cell phone across the table. Amy glanced at it and said, “No, sorry. My iPhone.” She looked across at her mother with a look of shock before putting her head on her arms, sobbing quietly. “It’s probably still on Guppy, waiting for me. In Providen—”

  “Guppy’s in the anchorage,” Kevin said. “I asked a couple of the guys to sail her back, rather than running up a humongous bill before you remembered her.”

  As he finished, Amy landed a huge hug. “Oh, thank you so much, Mr. deVeel! I can’t thank—”

  “Don’t mention it. This hug makes it all worthwhile. Now pull yourself back together and wait while I ask… Where did you leave the phone? No one saw it.”

  “It’s in the forward cuddy, along with my passport and a folder of cash. In case the marina needed more,” she said. She stood to allow Kevin to straighten, and she pulled her robe closed. “7-23-14, for the lock.”

  Elena was standing by the door; she nodded and left. While they waited, Amy composed a message using Shen’s laptop. When she’d finished, she turned to Beckie. “Can we talk?”

  With a nod, Beckie led her to the restroom where she’d earlier found Millie. “What is it?”

  “We had a joke, Abby and I, the next time she’d see me…” Beckie was amazed at the color in Amy’s face. That’s not a blush, it’s a conflagration! “She’d see me… naked.” Amy spun to face the sink, unaware or uncaring Beckie could see her face in the mirror. She still glowed bright. “If you take a picture of me… to attach, you know, to the message… then… then she’ll know it’s really me, and I’m really ok.”

  “Oh. Oh.” Beckie stammered a few more times before grabbing Amy’s shoulder and spinning her around. “Oh!” Amy’s robe was once again undone, revealing her chest, bare. “Now I understand what Kevin meant,” Beckie said with a giggle as she pulled the robe closed. “Do you think it would be enough just to snap your boobs? Not your whole body?”

  “Yeah! Yeah, that would be fine. I’m sure Abby’ll get the message.”

  In another fifteen minutes, Elena had returned bringing Amy’s phone, passport and cash. “Thanks, Ms Rios,” she said before sliding the cash across to her mother, mumbling, “For our vacation… I hope…” and handed the phone to Beckie. In the restroom, Beckie took the photo and Amy rewrote her message to Abby. She clicked send, and then sent a text message to Abby’s phone: “U have mail.”

  Chapter Eight

  Following Abby’s Signal

  Brewster

  THE LINK BETWEEN GOLDFARB, TALOS and Abby had been clarified—slightly—during Beckie’s conversation with Eilís O’Bannon, Abby’s lawyer. While most of what Eilís told her was recapitulation, hearing it live from one who’d lived through it made it more real.

  Once Amy’s message had been sent and Abby’s response cheered, Beckie felt like she’d spent the rest of the day flying, with Westchester County Airport the final destination. Ian guessed New York would be a good jumping-off point; Jean-Luc had already filed the documents for the flight. After Beckie’s conversation with Eilís, Shen had no difficulty tracking Abby’s return text message to Chatham, Massachusetts, specifically to Eilís’ home. Abby’s phone was again trackable and Eilís had shared Abby’s destination: Talos’ home in Brewster, New York.

  By eight, they’d landed at Westchester and rented a black Escalade. As Kevin started the engine, Ian said, “To review: Our sole brief is to find and support Ms Rochambeau. I expect we shall return in short order.

  “We have reviewed the map of the area. Beyond that, we have no sit-rep other than the building, according to Ms O’Bannon, was Talos’ home prior to his incarceration and his men may be securing it. If possible, refrain from gunplay, but take care.”

  Kevin drove out of the airport lot as Elena set the GPS for Talos’ address. Beckie and Ian shared the back seat with Millie and her medical kit.

  After forty minutes on the rain-swept roads, the GPS proclaimed “Your destination is on the left.” Kevin drove a few more seconds until he reached a wide spot, a boat-launching ramp, from which they could deploy.

  Beckie got out of the SUV; Ian and Kevin followed. Elena delayed to check the radios with Millie, who would stay with the vehicle unless someone was injured. They’d stopped just past the house; once the team moved off, Millie planned to move to a parking lot away from the lake.

  When Elena joined them and Millie’d driven away, they surveyed the area. Across the road, the lake was black in the night. Trees lined both sides of the one-lane road. Steady rain splashed in puddles on the
cracked asphalt; it was getting heavier. Beckie hunched up the collar of her black shirt, which was rapidly absorbing the water that didn’t run down her back between her shoulder blades. She shrugged and stepped off behind Ian, leading the way through the woods. For a couple steps, she heard Kevin or Elena behind her, but after that, nothing but drops on leaves. The wind was still.

  Beckie stepped carefully, placing her boots where Ian had set his. The half mile that would have taken ten minutes at a reasonable pace took forty-five, between Ian’s checks and watching so carefully where she stepped. Ian held out his hand and pointed through a scraggly bush.

  The house had two windows on the first floor lit, and one on the second. There was no sound except the rain. Beckie looked around, but saw nothing she didn’t expect. Ian reached around her to point to Kevin, sending him off to the left. Elena didn’t wait, but turned to the right.

  Understanding her role—stay back, don’t take the point and help where needed—Beckie leaned against a tree where she had a better view of the field between the team and the house. After a minute spent scrutinizing, she turned her attention to the woods to the left and then the right.

  Well, Abby’s supposed to be here. She tapped Ian and signed, “I’m backing up a little so I can talk to Millie.” He agreed, and she walked back about fifty feet. She pressed the mike. “Millie, has anyone said where Abby’s phone is now?”

  While she waited, she heard Kevin’s voice, “I think Abby beat us here. Just found a guy all tied up out of the way back here. Nothing else.”

  Millie was quiet so long Beckie was ready to do another radio check. but then she heard, “Her phone’s about two hundred feet from yours. Been moving slowly toward the house, Shen says.”

  “Cool, thanks.”

  Millie said, “Hundred seventy-five feet.”

  At the edge of the trees, Beckie dropped to her knee to see if she could backlight anyone against the lights in the windows. “There!” she whispered into the mike. She felt Ian kneel beside her and sight along her arm. He nodded.