The Dark Tide Free for a Limited Time (27 page)

Another day passed while Karen waited for Charles’s instructions. This time she wasn’t nervous or afraid. Or surprised when she finally received them.

Just resolved.

Karen knew the place. They had sailed around there a couple of times. It was a beautiful spot on a horseshoe cove, a cluster of thatched bungalows nestled right on the beach. Completely remote.

Charles added:

There were many things Karen thought to say to him. But all she wrote back was:

R
ONALD
T
ORBOR WRESTLED
with what to do. That very morning he had looked up and seen Steven Hanson, the American, standing in front of his desk.

Come to close out his accounts.

The bank manager tried to camouflage his surprise. Since the two Americans had been to his house, he had prayed he would never see this man again. But here he was. All the while they talked and conducted business, Ronald’s heart was hammering out of his chest. As soon as the man left, Ronald rushed into the office bathroom. He splashed cold water all over his burning face.

What should he do?

He knew it was wrong—what those awful men had asked him to do. He knew it violated every fiduciary oath. That he would be fired if anyone found out. Lose everything he had worked for all these years.

And Ronald liked him. Mr. Steven Hanson. He was always cheerful and polite. He always had a good word to say about Ezra, whose picture was on Ronald’s desk and whom Hanson had seen once before when Ezra and Edith had been visiting in the bank.

But what choice did he have?

It was for his son that he was doing this.

The mustached man had promised—if he ever found out that Ronald had screwed him, they would be back. And if they had traced Hanson this far, they could trace him further. And if they found out his accounts had been transferred out, it would be worse for them. Edith and Ezra.

Far, far worse.

Ronald realized there was a lot more at stake than just his job. There was his family. They had threatened to kill him. Ezra. Ronald had vowed he could not see that look of fear in his wife’s eyes again.

Mr. Hanson, please understand. What choice do I have?

There was a pay telephone on the far end of the square outside the bank. Next to a bench, with an election poster on it, a picture of Nevis’s corrupt incumbent minister over the slogan
TIME COME FOR DEM TO GO
.

He put a pay card in the slot and punched in the international number he’d been given.
Make sure I hear from you, Ronald
, the mustached man had said as he left, patting Ezra’s head. “Nice boy.” He winked. “I’m sure he’ll have quite a future in life.”

The call connected. Ronald swallowed back his fear.

“
Hello,”
a voice answered. Ronald recognized its tone. Just hearing it again sent a shiver of shame and revulsion down his spine.

“It’s Ronald Torbor. From Nevis. You said to call.”

“Ronald. Good to hear from you,” the mustached man replied. “How’s Ezra? Getting along?”

“I’ve seen him,” Ronald said without responding. “The man you’re looking for. He was here today.”

“I’m going alone,” Karen explained to Hauck.

They met for coffee again at Arcadia in town. Karen told him how Charlie had contacted her at last, and about his instructions. “He said just me. That was the deal I made. I’ve got to do it, Ty.”

“No. You’re not.” He put down his coffee and shook his head. “That doesn’t fly, Karen. You don’t have any idea who else he may be involved with. There’s no way I’m going to let you put yourself at risk.”

“That’s the deal, Ty. I agreed.”

“Karen.
” Hauck leaned in close, lowering his voice so people at the nearby tables wouldn’t hear. “This man walked away from you and your family. You know precisely what he’s done. You also know what he has to protect. This is dangerous, Karen. This isn’t some high-school stunt. You told Charlie exactly what you’d uncovered about him. People have died. No way in hell would I let you go down there alone.”

“You don’t have to remind me what the stakes are, Ty.”
Karen’s voice was strained, and growing louder. She looked at him pleadingly. “When I came to you, I trusted you. I told you things I could never tell anyone else.”

“I think I’ve earned that trust, Karen.”

“Yes.” Karen nodded. “I know you have. But now you have to trust
me
just a little, too.
I’m going,
” she said, her eyes lucid, unwavering. “This is my husband, Ty. I know him, whatever it may seem. And I know he would never harm me. I told him yes, Ty. I’m not going to lose this chance.”

Hauck exhaled a deep breath, his stern gaze reflecting his resistance. He could stop her, he knew. He could blow the whole thing wide open today. Take the heat he had brought upon himself. But this was what he’d always promised her. From the beginning. To find Charles. And as he ran through his remaining options, he realized that in many ways he was already in too deep.

“It has to be somewhere very public,” he said finally. “I have to be able to watch out for you. That’s the only way.”

She widened her eyes. “Ty…”

“That’s not negotiable, Karen. If the situation seems safe once we know all the details, you can go see him. Alone. I give you my word. But I’m going to be around. That’s the deal.”

Karen’s face carried an admonition. “You can’t use me to get to him, Ty. You have to promise.”

“You think I’m going down there to arrest him, Karen? What do you think, I’m going to call in Interpol and set up a sting like on
Miami Vice
?” He fixed on her. “The reason I’m going there is that I’m probably in love with you, Karen—don’t you understand that?—or something pretty damn close. I’m going there because there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you get in over your head and get yourself killed.”

The look in his eyes was determined and unbending. The shining blue in them had hardened into more of an intractable gray resolve. For a while the two of them just sat there, Hauck bristling.

Then slowly Karen smiled. “You said ‘probably.’”

“Yeah, probably.” Hauck nodded. “And while I’m at it, probably a little jealous, too.”

“Of Charles?”

“Of eighteen years, Karen. This is the person you built your life with, whatever the hell he’s done.”

“That part is over, Ty.”

“I don’t know what’s over.” He looked away for a second, then sucked in a frustrated breath. “Anyway, I said it, stupid as it sounded, what the hell.”

Karen reached over to his hand. She pressed his palm inside both of hers, massaging the soft cushions. Eventually he met her eyes.

“You know, I probably love you, too.” She shrugged. “Or something close.”

“I’m overwhelmed.”

“But if we do this, Ty, we can’t do it like that.
Please.
This is the most important thing for me now. That’s why I’m going down there. Afterward…” Karen pressed her thumb into his palm. “Afterward we’ll see. Is that a deal
?
”

He wrapped his pinkie around hers and granted his reluctant agreement. “Do you know this place?”

“The St. James Club? We were there once. We pulled in at the dock for lunch.” She saw his concern. “It’s like in
Condé Nast Traveler,
Ty. It’s not exactly the setting for an ambush.”

“So when do you go?”

“
We
go, Ty.
We
. Tomorrow,” Karen said. “I already booked the tickets.”

“Tickets?”

“Yeah, Ty,
tickets.”
Karen grinned. “You honestly think I thought you’d ever let me go down there on my own?”

Rick and Paula were away. As were Karen’s kids. She e-mailed the lodge where Sam and Alex were staying and told them she would also be away for a few days. She realized she should let someone know where she was going. She dialed a number and a familiar voice picked up, at home.

“Saul?”

“Karen?”
Lennick sounded surprised but pleased. “How are you? How’s that gang of yours?”

“We’re all good, Saul. It’s why I’m calling. I’m heading out of town for a few days. The kids are off in Africa, if you can believe it. On safari. Sam’s graduation present. With my folks.”

“Yes, I remember you talking about that,” he said blithely. “It certainly pays to be young now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Saul,” Karen said, “I guess it does. Listen, they’re a little hard to reach there, so I left your office number at their next lodge. You know, just in case anything comes up. I wasn’t sure who else to call.”

“Of course. I’m delighted, Karen. You know I’ll do what I can
do. So where are you heading? Just in case I need to reach you,” he explained.

“Down to the Caribbean. The British Virgin Isles….”

“Excellent.
The island are nice this time of year. Any specific place?”

“I’ll leave my cell number with you, Saul.” She decided to hold the rest back. “If you need me, you can reach me there.”

Saul was Charlie’s mentor. He had overseen the shutdown of Charlie’s firm. He had learned things about him. Archer. The offshore accounts. He’d never said anything about it to her. With a chill, Karen suddenly wondered,
Does he know it all?

“I know that Charlie was up to some things, Saul.”

He paused. “Just what do you mean, Karen?”

“I know he was handling a lot of money. Those accounts we spoke of, offshore. That’s what those passports and the money were about, weren’t they? You never got back to me, but I know you know that, Saul. You knew him better than I did. And you’d protect him, Saul, wouldn’t you, if something came out? Even now?”

“I never wanted to worry you, Karen. That’s part of my job. And I’d protect you, too.”

“Would you, Saul?” Suddenly Karen felt she understood something. “Even if it threatened you?”

“Threatened me? How could it possibly threaten me, Karen. What do you mean?”

She was about to press him—ask him if he knew. Did he know that her husband was alive? Was Saul part of it? Part of why Charlie was hiding or, as a foreboding thought flashed through her, even the person he was running from? Was he a part of what came between them?
Saul?
He would have known about Jonathan Lauer. He never told her about that. Karen felt a nervousness snake through her, as if she had crept into a forbidden space, a closed vault, chilly and tightly sealed.

Saul cleared his throat. “Of course I would, Karen.”

“Of course you would
what,
Saul
?
”

“Protect you, Karen. And the kids. Isn’t that what you asked?”

Suddenly Karen felt sure. He did know. Much, much more than he was telling her. She could feel it in the quiver of his voice. Saul was Charlie’s mentor.

He knew.
He had to know.

And now Saul knew that she knew, too.

“You never told me.” Karen wet her lips. “You knew that Jonathan Lauer had died. You knew he’d tried to contact me. You knew that Charlie was handling this money. Charlie’s dead, right, Saul? He’s dead—and you’re still protecting him.”

There was a pause.

“Of course he’s dead, Karen. Charlie loved you. That’s all you should be thinking about now. I think it’s best to keep it like that.”

“What did my husband do, Saul? What is it with you people? Why are you holding things back from me?”

“You enjoy yourself down there, Karen. Wherever you’re heading. You know I’ll take care of whatever needs to be done up here. You know that, don’t you, dear?”

“Yes,” Karen said. Her mouth was dry. A chill of uncertainty passed through her, a window left open to a world she once trusted.

“I know that, Saul.”

The twelve-seater Island Air Cessna touched down on the remote island strip, its wheels barely finding the slip of land in the green-blue Caribbean Sea. The small plane coasted to a stop at the terminal, basically a Quonset hut with a tower and a wind indicator.

Hauck winked to Karen across the aisle from him. “Ready?” Two baggage handlers in T-shirts and shorts ran out as soon as the propellers stopped.

The young pilot in wraparound sunglasses helped passengers out onto the tarmac at the bottom of the landing steps.

“Nice flight,” Hauck said.

“Welcome to paradise.” He grinned back.

They had taken the morning flight down to San Juan from JFK, caught the American Eagle connection to Tortola, and now the cramped puddle jumper over the glasslike sea to St. Hubert. Karen had been quiet for much of the trip. She slept, fidgeted through a paperback she’d brought along. Anxious. To Hauck she could not have looked prettier in a tight-fitting brown tank
and white capris, an onyx pendant around her neck, and tortoiseshell sunglasses perched on her head.

Hauck helped her off the steps and flipped down his own shades. Whyever they had come here, it was beautiful. The sun was dazzling. A cool trade wind off the sea caressed them.

“Friedman? Hauck?”

A local representative from the resort, dressed in an epauletted white shirt and holding a clipboard, called out to them.

Hauck waved him over.

“Welcome to St. Hubert.” The young black man grinned amiably. “I’ll be taking you to the resort.”

They loaded their bags into a hotel Land Cruiser. The island seemed barely more than a large ribbon of sand and vegetation in the middle of the sea. Only a few miles from end to end. There was a small mountain splitting the island, some makeshift food stands, locals selling fruit and homemade rum, a few goats. A couple of colorful billboards for a local rent-a-car service and Caribe beer.

The trip to the hotel took a little more than fifteen minutes of bouncing over the uneven road. Soon they were pulling into the St. James’s resort.

The setting was beautiful, lush with vegetation and tall palm trees. It took about two seconds to establish that this wasn’t the type of place Hauck could afford on his own. A week here probably cost more than a month’s pay. At the open-air front desk under a thatched roof, Karen asked for the two adjoining rooms she’d reserved in the hotel part of the resort. They had discussed it. That was okay with Hauck. This wasn’t a holiday. It was important to remember just why they were here.

“Any messages?” Karen inquired as they checked in.

The pretty island desk clerk behind the counter scanned the computer. “I’m sorry, Ms. Friedman, none.”

A bellman took them out to their rooms, each tastefully decorated with a large canopied bed and expensive rattan furniture.
A large marble bathroom with a big tub. Outside, palm trees swayed right up to the terrace, which looked over the perfect white-sand beach.

They met on their adjoining decks, gazing out at the sea. There were a few tented cabanas dotting the beach. And a gorgeous white thirty-foot yacht moored at the pier.

“It’s beautiful,” Hauck said, looking around.

“Yeah,” Karen agreed, inhaling the ocean breeze, “it is.”

“No point in just sitting around until you hear from him.” Hauck shrugged. “Want to meet for a swim?”

“What the hell?” Karen smiled. “Sure.”

A short while later, Karen came down in a stylish bronze one-piece and a tie-dyed sarong, her hair pinned above her head. Hauck had on a pair of “designer” Colby College shorts.

The water was warm and foamy. Tiny white waves lapped at their feet. The beach was pretty much deserted. It was June and the resort didn’t seem exactly filled. There was a small reef a couple of hundred yards out, a handful of sunbathers camped out on it. A young couple was playing paddleball. The sea was almost as calm as glass.

“God, it’s gorgeous.” Karen sighed, as if in heaven, wading in.

“Man,” Hauck agreed, diving into the surf. When he came up, he pointed. “Want to swim out to that reef?”

“Swim? How about I race you?” Karen grinned.

“Race me? You know who you’re talking to, lady?” Hauck laughed. “I’m still the third-leading all-time rushing leader for Greenwich High.”

“Oh, I’m quaking.” Karen rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “Watch out for sharks.”

She dove in gracefully ahead of him. Hauck let her get a couple of strokes’ head start, then went in after. He pulled hard, a few small waves breaking against him. Karen cut through the surf in an effortless crawl. He wasn’t gaining. No matter how he pushed he couldn’t seem to make up ground. Once or twice he
tried to lunge and grab her legs. It took about three minutes. Karen beat him to the reef by a mile. She was already waiting as he climbed out, sucking air.

“I’ve been had.”

She winked. “Atlanta AAU twelve-and-under freestyle champion.” She shook the water out of her hair. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Ran into a shark,” he snorted, grinning coyly at her.

Karen lay back on the fine sand. Hauck sat with his arms wrapped around his knees, looking back at the thatched roofs and swaying palms on the beautiful tropical isle.

“So what else do you do well?” he asked, feigning dejection. “Just so I know.”

“Chili. Tennis. Large donors.” She grinned. “I’ve been known to successfully raise a few bucks in my time. You?”

“Clear out a hockey crease. Get cats out of trees. Munch on doughnuts,” he replied. “Catch the occasional blue.”

“You paint,” Karen said encouragingly.

“You saw it.”

“That’s true.” She poked at him playfully with her toe. “You could call it that!”

Hauck watched the beads of water drying on her wet skin.

“So what happens?” Karen asked, her tone suggesting that the subject had changed. “After?”

“After?”

“After I see Charles. Then what happens to him, Ty? All those things he’s done…”

“I don’t know.” Hauck exhaled. He shielded his eyes from the sun. “Maybe you can convince him to turn himself in. We found him—someone else could also. He can’t run forever.”

“You mean go to jail, right?”

Hauck shrugged.

“I don’t think that would happen. I don’t see that, Ty.”

He tossed a pebble into the water. “First let’s see what he has to say.”

She nodded. They looked at each other a few seconds, neither of them wanting to put into words their fears for a future they didn’t know. Then Karen prodded him again with her toe, smiled. “So…uh, double or nothing on the way back?”

“Not a chance. You should know, I don’t take defeat very well.”

“Your loss!” Karen chimed in with a conspiratorial grin, looking back at him as she pushed herself up and into the waves.

He jumped in after her. “On the other hand, I don’t take being shown up particularly well either!”

Later they met for dinner. The dining terrace overlooking the cove was barely half filled. A few honeymoon couples and a couple of European families.

Hauck ordered a local spicy fish dish; Karen had lobster. Hauck insisted he pay, and ordered a fancy bottle of Meursault. Karen, already slightly tanned, was dressed in a black lace dress. Hauck knew the ground rules, but he could hardly keep his eyes off her.

Afterward they walked back along the pathway to the front desk. She checked her BlackBerry, disappointed. Then she asked at the desk for her messages.

Nothing there either.

“This was a nice day,” he said.

Karen smiled sweetly. “Yeah.”

Upstairs, he walked her to her door. There was an awkward moment until Karen leaned close and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

She smiled at him again, with a grateful twinkle and a wave of a finger, as she closed the door. But Hauck could see the worry in her eyes.

Still no word from Charles.