Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 01 - Wendy and the Lost Boys (5 page)

“I’m calling my lawyer.”

He put his hands up, palms facing me. “Calm down.”

I jumped up. “Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down after you come in here with all these outrageous accusations about me being a part of his swindling and… stolen artifacts? What the hell are you talking about?” That Internet story I skimmed must have had some truth in it, but how could this bozo think I had something to do with artifacts or the Ponzi?

“While our team was looking for Hook on the 30
^th
floor of his building in Manhattan, his people were loading a van with antiquities in his private underground parking garage. The truck got away. As a big time real estate agent, you have access to a lot of vacant homes with big garages – garages where the truck could be stashed.”

I damn sure wasn’t going to dignify that idiotic conclusion with an answer. I crossed my arms, compressed my lips, and tapped my foot to let him know the interview was over. Of course, he was too much of a cement-head to pick up on it.

“That pirate has his own museum on wheels somewhere in the states.”

“Can’t you see I’m done listening to your baseless, insulting, and moronic accusations?”

He pulled some papers out of a file and smiled smugly. “You and the Hooks have been in constant phone communication for weeks.”

That slammed me hard. My head felt light. I sat down. Innocent phone calls from Marni were about to hang me. I should have known better than to have anything to do with her after she attached herself to that slime-ball. No good deed goes unpunished.

“Wendy, you know how those optical illusion pictures work? It looks like a crazy pattern, but if you relax your eyes you see a three dimensional object rise from it? All I had to do was step back, relax, and I knew the players in this game. You’re in this with Marni and Hook.”

“This is outrageous. You’re just fishing. If you had something on me you’d be arresting me. But that’s not going to happen because there’s nothing to get on me.”

Special, not in my opinion, Agent Roger Jolley tucked his tie into his jacket, and his infuriating, supercilious smile got even more so. He paused for effect. “There’s an even stronger link between you and Hook. He has offshore accounts on Nevis Island in the Caribbean and makes frequent contact with someone on that island at a place called Nevisland, somebody named Peter Payne. Does that name mean anything to you, Wendy?”

I gulped so loud my ears rattled. “Peter Payne!”

Jolley looked jolly. He’d hit a nerve. “You and Payne are lovers.”

“You idiot, Peter Payne was my first love. We were high school sweethearts, not lovers. I haven’t seen him in almost twenty-five years. You say he’s on an island? Nevis Island?”

“I’m going to get this bastard.” Reaching into the file, he pulled out a fistful of receipts and shoved them at me. “While Hook was drinking $1,950 bottles of 2003 Screaming Eagle Cabernet at the Solitaire in Manhattan, Mr. George Smitty was leaping from the balcony of his high-rise retirement condo in Miami. Smitty and many thousands of hardworking people were destroyed at the hands of your associate. Thirty-two billion dollars. I’m going to find what’s left of the fortune and return it.”

Peter was alive and living on an island was the only thought that made it through clearly.

Special Agent Jerk tapped me on the arm. “Are you listening? Hook used a tsunami of hedge funds to pull off the biggest Ponzi scheme in history. People lost their pensions, their savings, and in some cases their homes.”

“If they hadn’t been greedy in the first place–”

“That’s not your call,” he snapped.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“That hot breath you feel on your neck… that’s me.”

As I escorted Jolley out the door and clicked the deadbolt, my cell phone rang.

I grabbed it on the second ring.

It was Marni. “Wendy, I’m really scared. Help me.” The connection broke. She was gone.

Chapter Eight

I fretted every day about Marni, but with no way to contact her, all I could do was wait and hope for another call that let me know she was just being Marni – bubble-headed, gold-digging, melodramatic Marni. And hope equally hard that I didn’t get a call from that long-eyelashed doofus Special, only to himself, Agent Jolley. What had that foolish Marni gotten herself into… with my help?

When caller ID showed unknown on a Sunday morning almost a month later, I quivered as I answered. I was shocked to hear Hook’s irritating voice. “Wendy,” he cleared his throat. He was curt, the connection garbled. “Marni’s dying. She’s asking for you.”

My knees buckled. I braced myself against the kitchen counter. “What… are you saying? Was she in an accident? What hospital is she in?”

“She’s not in the hospital. It’s too late for that. She’s on the
Predator.
”

“Let me talk to her,” I demanded, my mind racing.

Marni’s voice, so weak it was barely audible, came through. “Please, Wendy. I need you.”

Hook got back on, “Well?”

I gasped for breath as I forced the words out. “What’s wrong? What do the doctors say?”

“She has bad stomach pains, been vomiting for five days, and her hair’s falling out. I can’t get a damn doctor to come look at her. She’s burning up with fever.”

“Get her to a friggin’ hospital!”

“It’s too late.”

“Bullshit!” My vision dimmed and my entire body shook. What was this monster doing to her? I took a deep breath and sucked it up.

“I’ll be there with Kit.”

“We don’t need that smart-mouthed fairy.”

Through tight jaws I said, “Marni wants me there and I won’t come without him.”

“Alright. Let Marni’s last days be good ones.”

Her last days?

“How the hell am I supposed to find you?”

“In two and a half hours Jaxbee will have my helicopter at the same hanger where we first met.”

I dialed Kit and begged him through my tears. “I don’t know what I’m getting us into, but once we get on the
Predator
, I’ll call the feds. Pack an overnight bag. I’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?”

He started to ask a question but bit if off and said, “Whatever you need, sweetie. I wouldn’t think of letting you go alone, even though I’ll have to miss the dress rehearsal for my new drag show.”

The room spun. A thought fought through. Marni’s last call. Was this what she was afraid of?

I grabbed a small suitcase and threw in jeans, t-shirts, bathing suit, sweatshirt, and cosmetics… the basics. I was set to go. I called our receptionist. “Linda, I’ve got to go out of town for a few days. Keep the clients happy. Call Treanna and tell her not to worry. I’ll see her next weekend.”

She tried to squeeze in a question but I cut her off and hung up.

Locking the front door, I spun and slammed my suitcase into the abs of a jerk in a cheap brown suit. Just what I needed, Roger fucking Jolley.

“I have more questions, Wendy.”

I shoved him down the steps. “Not now. I’m in a hurry!”

“You could be arrested for failure to cooperate with a federal investigation.”

“I don’t give a damn, but you’ll have to arrest me later. Hook’s sending his helicopter for me. Marni is dying.” I couldn’t believe I was saying those words.

“From what?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out and save her.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Like hell. Hook won’t let you anywhere near his yacht. And the only person who wants you there less than Hook is me.”

He winced like I’d slapped him. Then his face got red. “You’re protecting him. I wasn’t sure before, but now I know you’re part of his operation. Well, you’re not skipping out on me. Not when I’m this close to recovering his treasure.”

“I’m not letting you anywhere near Marni. You’re trying to frame both of us.”

“How do I know she’s really sick? It’s convenient Hook called right now.”

This guy was so ridiculous that he was calming me down. “You stand here all… earth-toned and threatening. Why should Hook let you set foot on his ship? Move. I have to go.” This goofball needed to get out of my way.

“I trained as a medic in the army. I specialized in tropical diseases.”

That got my attention. Marni sick with god-knows-what and that scumbag Hook not taking her to the hospital. “You trained as a medic? Did you actually practice medicine?”

He shook his head. “I pass out at the sight of blood.”

What a loser. I wanted to pop him one, yet I could see he might have value. And now that my blood pressure was back down to near normal, I noticed he had the cutest expression on his face like a little boy admitting he’d just broken a window.

“If Marni’s really sick, we’ll make sure she gets medical help. If you’re shooting straight, you’ll want me to go. You tell Hook I’m your personal physician. Her life might depend on my being there. If you don’t want me to go, I’ll know everything you just said is a lie.”

I didn’t give a damn about whether he thought I was lying or part of Hook’s schemes. But I did give a damn, a whole lot of damns about Marni. I might have more or less inherited her, but I couldn’t fail her, and maybe more importantly my dear old friend, her mother. Maybe a tropical disease specialist could help.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable in those clothes, doctor. There’s no time to go home and pack.” I pointed to his suit and snorted.

“You don’t think my suit is perfect for yachting?”

Could he be more irritating?

Chapter Nine

The last time I’d stood at this hanger, Marni was with me. The chopper landed on the tarmac with a bounce. We shielded ourselves from the wind and vibration until Jaxbee waved us on. Kit, Roger, and I crab-ran to the aircraft. I held onto Kit’s hand so I didn’t blow away. We threw our two small overnight bags to Roger as he jumped into the back seat. The cabin was a tight fit – the pilot with two passenger seats up front and one behind.

I took the middle seat next to Jaxbee with Kit on my right. The noise from the rotors was so loud it made my head hurt. She gave us a thumbs-up and motioned to the headsets. Roger, Kit, and I clamped on the earphones. We buckled in and a wobbly instant later the ground dropped away. I gritted my teeth as my stomach turned over. The cruise ships beneath us became toys in the blue-green sea as the fuel smell in the cabin dissipated.

Jaxbee’s voice crackled in my earphones. “Wendy, I’m so sorry.”

I nodded. My hands were sweaty and I felt dizzy. If I’d had more time to think about this, I might have chickened out. Kit grabbed my hand and held on – two wet palms meeting in panic.

“Who’s the dude in the back?”

“My doctor.” Now I was lying for Roger.

“It’s almost a two-hour flight to the yacht. Want to take the controls?” Jaxbee asked.

I shook my head, no.

“It’ll take your mind off Marni. This can be your first Jaxbee flying lesson.” She placed my left hand on the stick and held it there. “That’s the cyclic, it makes the nose go up or down and changes the direction. I’ll hold your hand on it.”

My fingers trembled. I was afraid to move.

“Watch your rpm’s. I’ve got the rudder pedals.”

What the hell was she talking about? I had visions of us falling from the sky like a bunch of Looney Tunes characters.
Acme
helicopter bites the dust.

The chopper had a glass dome that curved from above our heads to below our feet. It created a dizzying depthless torment to my coordination-challenged mind. I couldn’t gauge how high above the whitecaps we were as the blue ocean raced beneath our feet. I imagined at any second we would plunge into the sea.

Scared frozen – my hand remained on the stick and my eyes fixed on the horizon. Jaxbee’s hand never left mine as she moved the cyclic giving me the feeling for the control.

We’d flown for what seemed like the longest hour and a half of my life when Jaxbee nudged my hand off the stick. “Hang on,” she said as the chopper dropped twenty feet. “Going below line-of-sight before we land on the ship. The
Predator’s
cloaking shield is up.”

“Where? I can’t see the ship! Oh shit!” I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the impact.

Nothing.

I opened one eye. We were flying about fifteen feet over the water alongside the
Predator.
It appeared as a hologram over Jaxbee’s shoulder, close enough to touch. She twisted the top of a lever on her left and the bird climbed level with the upper deck of the monster ship. Hearing a whirring noise, I looked back. It was the tail rotor kicking in. The chopper turned into a landing position facing the helideck, lowered, and slid onto the landing pad coming to a perfect stop as gently as a butterfly landing on a flower. I was more than impressed. I had yet to master parallel parking.

“You only have fifty-nine more hours till you get your license. You can breathe now,” she said as she cut the engine. Three crewmen rushed out and tied down the chopper. I scrambled out as the blades slowed. Kit and Roger followed.