The Whistler (The Whistler #1)(68)
More than once, Lacy said, “Michael, I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Why can’t she call the police and report him missing?” he argued. “Let them handle it. She can leave the boat with whatever she wants to take and go home. If a crime has been committed down there, then the police need to know about it.”
“Cooley mentioned that and it frightened her. Not sure why, but then we don’t know everything about Myers and his boat. Maybe she doesn’t want the cops poking around. Maybe she’s undocumented.”
“Tell her to destroy the files, anything that looks suspicious, keep the phone she’s using, and toss the other one, along with the laptop, overboard.”
“That sounds nice and efficient sitting here in your office, Michael, but we don’t know what she knows. And you could be asking her to destroy evidence. Anyway, she’s not going to do that. She’s terrified and she doesn’t know what to do. We need to help.”
“If she leaves, what happens to the boat?”
“Who cares? The cops will eventually be called, I guess. At some point they’ll decide there is a missing person involved and they’ll do whatever they need to do. We have enough problems of our own.”
“You’re not going, Lacy. I’m not running the risk of you getting hurt again.”
“Okay, then Gunther can handle it by himself. He can fetch Carlita and get her off the boat.”
“Do you really trust him?”
“Yes. In certain situations he can be quite reliable.”
Michael was clearly troubled. Another casualty. Perhaps Myers left something crucial behind. BJC had no experience in matters such as these. Where were the real cops? He took a sip of coffee from a paper cup and said, “You know, Lacy, if Dubose is behind this, then they know that the complaint against McDover was signed by a guy who has been neutralized. Game over, Lacy. We cannot proceed without the complaining party.”
“Let’s worry about that tomorrow, please. Right now we need to get Carlita and whatever Myers might have left behind.”
“It’s over, Lacy.”
“No, it’s not, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Here’s an idea, Michael. You and Gunther buzz down to Key Largo together and get her. The weather is perfect. He says the airplane holds four passengers. An easy trip.”
“I don’t like small airplanes.”
“You don’t like big ones either. Man up, Michael. You’ll be back before you know it. We’re not breaking any laws here. Just a quick flight down there, get her, drop her off somewhere, and you’re back home.”
“And I’m stuck with Gunther for four hours in a small airplane?”
“I know, I know, but you know it’s important.”
“Why bother, Lacy? This file is about to be closed.”
“Not if the FBI gets involved. When they find out a key witness has vanished, they might change their minds.”
“Sounds pretty desperate.”
“That’s because we are desperate.”
Michael took a deep breath and shook his head in frustration. “I can’t go. We’re having a small party for my mother-in-law this afternoon. It’s her ninetieth birthday.”
“Then I’m going. I swear we’ll be safe. Look, it’s just a nice little flight on a beautiful Sunday. It’s my day off. If I want to go flying, who can stop me?”
“I’ll authorize you to go on one condition: You cannot get near the boat. If someone is watching, then that someone might recognize you. No one knows Gunther, but that’s not the case for you. Make sure you get possession of Myers’s papers, phones, and laptop. She knows you and she’ll trust you more than your brother. Who wouldn’t? Anyway, drop her off along the way, give her some money for a cab or a bus, and make sure she understands that she talks to no one.”
Lacy was already headed for the door. “Got it, Michael.”
—
An hour later, they lifted off from the Tallahassee airport in the Beech Baron. Gunther, seizing the moment and thrilled with the adventure, sat in the left seat and flew the airplane. Lacy, with headphones, sat beside him and was captivated by the chatter between the controllers and the traffic. They headed almost due south and were soon over the Gulf. At nine thousand feet they leveled off and hit their maximum speed of 230 miles per hour. The din of the piston engines eased somewhat, though the cabin was far noisier than Lacy had ever experienced.
After two hours, they began to descend, and Lacy took in the view of the ocean and the islands. They touched down at 11:40. Gunther had called ahead for a courtesy car at general aviation. He drove and Lacy navigated from a tourist map. Cooley was still somewhere around Tallahassee and talking to Carlita. As they approached the Key Largo Harbor Marina, Cooley gave Gunther her number to facilitate the pickup. The harbor was busy with sailors heading out to sea and fishing boats arriving with their morning catches. A dive boat had just docked and a dozen divers were unloading their gear. Lacy stayed in the car and watched everything as Gunther strolled along the dock, just killing time and admiring boats. Carlita stepped off the Conspirator and managed to smile as if all was well. She had three bags: a backpack, a nylon sack stuffed with what appeared to be clothing, and Myers’s olive courier bag. Gunther grabbed two of them and they casually walked back to the parking lot. In the car, Lacy scanned the entire marina and saw no one who appeared to be watching them. Carlita was thrilled to see her, a familiar face.