Baiting & Fishing Page 25

  She opened the package and found eight napkin rings, hand carved from drift wood and polished to perfection. Each one was different. There was a circle of dolphins following one another. Another was sea turtles marching behind one another. Victoria gasped and then said, “These are exquisite. Thank you so much!”

  He grinned, “And thank you for not adding that lame 'you didn't have to do this' statement.”

  She kissed his cheek. “I do appreciate your thoughtfulness.” She paused again and said, “In all the years we've been acquainted we had never met. Now we have become friends. I bought you something also.”

  She left the room and was gone for quite some time. She came back with a small box, wrapped simply in red foil with a green ribbon. Inside he found six of the kind of lures used for tarpon fishing. He grinned, “Oh my gosh! Thanks. I love tarpon fishing. I will use these... Knowing the way I fish I'll probably lose every one of them in the mangroves. I get snagged all the time. But, I'll have a great time doing it!”

  They chatted for a while, then she asked with an unsuccessful attempt to sound casual, “How was your holiday?”

  He raised his eyebrows, “I take it you know where I went, and with whom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who told you? I didn't tell a soul but when I got back to the paper, everybody knew about it. I can't imagine that Marcella told anyone. First of all, who would she tell? And secondly, why?”

  “Actually she did tell people. Quite a number of people as a matter of fact.”

  “What?”

  “I heard it from her hairdresser, who is very good by the way. I'm sticking with him. My next door neighbor heard it from the masseuse at the country club. Apparently Mrs. Wilson was so excited to be jetting off with you for Christmas, she mentioned it to virtually every one she talked to the week before you left.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I have no idea! I was hoping you would have some sort of explanation. Marcella had always been very discreet, according to the people who knew her in Atlanta. She was a member of the Buckhead Club and never once expressed a confidence to a masseuse. I know because I checked it out.”

  “I can't imagine why she would want people to know we were going away together.”

  “What about if she thought you were about to spill some information about her and she could damage your credibility by letting people know you were intimate. If you wrote something negative about her in the paper, the next thing we would hear is how she jilted you and you are getting even.”

  “That is very unkind.”

  “I think you are not objective where she is concerned. Intentional or not, it's a nice ace for her to have in the hole.”

  He chuckled, “Don't tell me you play poker.”

  She nodded. “I am actually a very, very good poker player. You, my friend, would stink at it. You have the most expressive face. I can tell what you are thinking before you say a word. I would bet Marcella can do so as well.”

  She poured more coffee and brought out some cookies. “In any case, we shall probably never know why she told people. If her motives were less than honorable, I doubt she would admit it. My question to you is, did you have a good time?”

  He pondered that question for a while, munching on a cookie for something to do, “Yes, I had a wonderful time. We fished. We swam. The house we stayed in was spectacular. We were on an island all alone. It was great.”

  “You're not very convincing.”

  “I mean it. We did have fun. Especially the first few days. Towards the end we had a conversation that left me troubled.”

  “You argued?”

  “Sort of. It wasn't an argument as much as it was an impasse. I think we each reached the farthest edge of the worlds we inhabit.”

  “Did those worlds meet?”

  “Not quite.”

  “I am so very sorry.”

  He smiled and shrugged, “Maybe we can build a bridge.”

  She did not respond. Ray tried not to notice the dubious look in her eyes.

  After lunch, he stopped in some of his usual spots. He was amazed to find that everybody knew what he had been up to. He put up with all the razzing he could stand and then he headed home. He called Marcella on the way and invited her to come to his house for a run and dinner at Dick's. She agreed to meet him in half an hour.

  They were not in the habit of talking while they ran. They both liked to run a little too hard for that. Over a pitcher of beer at Dick's he asked casually, “Did you tell anybody where we were going?”

  “No, why?”

  He shook his head and said, “It's the weirdest thing. Everybody I talked to today knew where I had been for the holiday. They also knew who I was with.”

  She looked shocked, “How on earth did they find out?”

  “I dunno. Who, besides us, knew?”

  “As far as I know, only the pilot and the chauffeur. The pilot has been with me for years. He lives in Orlando. I doubt he even knows anybody here to tell the story to. The chauffeur's a local. I've always thought he was cheeky. I will fire him tomorrow.”

  “You don't know it was him.”

  “Who else could it be?”

  He wanted to cry.

  She invited him back to her place, but he begged off. He said he had a ton of personal email to read and bills to pay, which was true, but not the whole story. She called for her car. They alternately chatted and necked on the couch until the car came.

  At the door, he promised to call her the next day. She shook her head, “I have to go away for a few days.” She ran her hand across his eyes, “Wipe that look off your face! I'm not going off on a job. Actually, I am going to New York for a few days. I ordered some clothes before Christmas. I need to go for a fitting.”

  “You go all the way to New York to buy your clothes?”

  “Personally, I prefer to shop in Rome, but I haven't found myself in Italy recently, so I ordered some things from a couple of New York designers.”

  He shook his head and grinned, “I guess I'll accept that. Given that I sort of went to the Jimmy Buffet school of fashion, I don't get it.”

  “Thank you for being kind and not bitching me out for my extravagance.”

  He shrugged, “It's your money. Who am I to tell you how to spend it?”

  After she left he sat in the dark for a very long time wondering why in the hell she lied to him.

  Chapter 22

  One afternoon he received an email from Karen Thompson. The subject line read: “Important.” The message read: “Call me tonight after 8.”

  He worried about that the rest of the day. Well before eight o'clock, he had his phone plugged into its charger to allow for a long conversation. He had a notebook out with pens ready. He sat in the dark, waiting for time to make the call.

  At two minutes past eight, he called Karen's home number. She answered on the second ring, saying, “I just love a punctual man.”

  He ignored that and said, “What's up?”

  She paused. “This is another one of those I-have-no-idea-what-the-hell-this-means situations, although a picture is emerging. I have found some information that seems very interesting.

  “Item One: I found out that Marcella Pappias did not exactly meet Roland Wilson by accident. She specifically asked to meet him. She knew he would be in Palm Beach that season, so she asked an acquaintance to get her a ticket to a ball because she wanted to meet him. Ms. Pappias apparently all but stalked him at the party until she could maneuver herself into a position to 'accidentally' run into him.

  “Item Two: There were four key employees at Techtron who had previously worked for Aurelio Collonia.”

  “What??!!”

  “When Roland Wilson set up Techtron, his development team interviewed accountants and marketing people. In particular, they were looking for people who were familiar with international operations. Two accountants and two marketing people who worked for Aurelio Collonia interviewed for jobs and were hired. All
four of them worked at Techtron for only a couple of years. They started at the beginning. They all four resigned after a couple of years, and well prior to any of the problems. By itself that means little, but it gets more interesting.

  “Item three: Susan Steinholz, Techtron's comptroller, had an affair with a staff accountant, who happened to be one of the Collonia employees. Since Steinholz is generally considered to be the mastermind behind the accounting scam, I think that is significant. I wonder what kind of pillow talk was going on between those two bean counters!”

  “Do you know what that employee did for Collonia?”

  “He worked in the laundry business...the money laundering business.”

  “Where did those employees go after they resigned from Techtron.”

  “Where do you think?”

  “Back to Collonia?”

  “Yep.”

  “Item four: The Ft. Lauderdale police debated about whether to classify Roland Wilson's death as a suicide or a homicide. The detective who was first on the scene still believes it was not a suicide.

  “Last item: Apparently, in addition to the accounting scam at Techtron, there was something else going on. Techtron wasn't selling many computers, which was why the accountants were so busy creating fictitious revenue. Techtron was apparently really in the business of selling weapons. I'm not talking about Saturday Night Specials or sawed off shotguns. They were selling military matériel: artillery, tanks, helicopters and even planes.”

  “Marcella mentioned she thought there was something fishy. She said she thought somebody was up to no good. She seemed to think there was smuggling going on.”

  “So she knew about it?”

  “She told me she suspected something was wrong. She said she did not like the looks of some of the clients. She said she mentioned it to Roland and he blew her off.”

  Karen started out softly, tentatively, “I am guessing that Collonia set up Wilson. Wilson was going around talking about his plans to sell these cheap computers around the world. He was a high-society, do-gooder. An idealist. He made his money investing in other people's companies. He had very little experience running a business of his own. Collonia somehow maneuvered his way into Techtron, which he then used as a front for his own arms dealing business. Wilson and Techtron crashed and burned, but Collonia's operations went chugging right along. Techtron provided the initial cover Collonia needed to set up his network, but once the connections were made, Collonia did not need Techtron any more and let it collapse. I'd bet you Collonia is still dealing arms to the network established by Techtron.”

  Ray asked, more to himself than to Karen, “Was Marcella a tool Aurelio manipulated also? Or, was she in on it?”

  Karen added, “There's another question: Is she a murderess or is she in grave danger?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If Roland Wilson was murdered, did she do it? He was killed by a .22 caliber pistol. That is generally considered a woman's weapon because it's small enough to fit in a purse. Did she kill him?

  “Or, did Collonia kill him and try to make it look like Marcella did it?

  “Haven't you ever wondered why she didn't just carry out her plan to go back to her former identity of Marcia Pappas and disappear? Why is she keeping such a high profile? And, I mean no offense by this, why did she take up with a reporter, of all people?”

  Ray muttered, “I have, indeed, wondered about all of that, and more. Do you have a hypothesis?”

  “I think she may be in terrible danger. I think she's keeping a high profile because Collonia may be after her. If she stays visible he may have a harder time getting to her.”

  “Do you think she was part of the plot?”

  “I don't think it matters whether she was set up as much as Wilson and then figured it out later, or whether she was in on the whole plot to begin with. She knows about Collonia's operations and his involvement. She's in a position to bring his whole operation down. She may have motive to do just that if she feels he used her and betrayed her. If he thinks for a minute that is what she has in mind, she's toast.”

  “You think Collonia would kill her?”

  “Ray, where have you been? Collonia is a smuggler, an arms dealer, an international mobster. He may not pull the trigger – although I have heard from more than one person that he has indeed pulled the trigger on more than one occasion – but, he has the wherewithal and connections to cause people to disappear under strange circumstances.”

  They were both quiet for a while. Ray was torn between being furious at the possibility that Marcella was a liar and potentially a murderer who was manipulating him for some purpose he couldn't figure out, and being terrified that she was in mortal danger. His thoughts were interrupted when Karen dropped another bomb, “There is one other thing. It has bothered me from the beginning that I was able to find out all of this information on Marcella Wilson and nobody else had. I don't have any special sources. All of this information was a matter of record. Anybody could have found it. Why didn't the feds find it when they were investigating Techtron? I can't believe they investigated everybody else involved with Techtron and did not investigate her. Why didn't somebody else come up with this before?”

  Ray sat up and said softly, “What if they did?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if the feds did uncover Marcella's secret? What if they're using her to get to Aurelio? What if they figured it all out early in the game and decided to use her as bait to get the Big Fish?”

  He went on more to himself than to Karen, “If that is true then she was telling me the truth when she told me that every man she has ever met has manipulated and used her.”

  He paused for a long time. Karen did not say anything. They both seemed to know the ultimate question. He eventually articulated it, his voice choked, “Which means do I turn her in to the cops as a potential murderess, smuggler and God knows what else, or do I keep her out in the public eye as much as possible to protect her from Collonia and hope to hell the feds get enough information to get to him before he kills her.”

  She added, “Ray, this time I think you can't tell her what you suspect. If she was a part of it, it will cause her to disappear. If she is innocent and you imply you suspect she is not, she will be hurt and leave you anyway. I think we have reached the limit of what we can do with this by ourselves. I think it's time you tell what you know to the FBI. If they already know it, then at least you've done your civic duty. If they have not figured it out, they're idiots, but again you will have done the right thing, and they can finish their job, hopefully before Collonia moves in on Mrs. Wilson.”

  “You may be right, but that means I'll be turning on her, too, just like every other man she's ever known.”

  “That is one possibility. The other possibility is that she has been the one pulling the strings. She has been a part of the Collonia operation for decades. Was Techtron her piece of the family business? Maybe she's been manipulating you with her sob stories about being manipulated and used by men. You could be her public cover.”

  “How can I tell?”

  “I don't think you can.”

  They ended the conversation quickly. He sat up most of the night, staring off into the blackness outside the windows with a horrified look on his face . Around 3:00 a. m. he left a message on his editor's voice mail saying he had a stomach flu and would not be in to work that day. He went to bed shortly before dawn, but slept little.

  Chapter 23

  Ray dug out a couple of his reserved stories for the week and stayed out of the office as much as possible. Mostly he stayed home, obsessing over what to do next. He knew it would be easiest to go to the FBI now, while she was gone, but he knew he wouldn't do that. He couldn't risk losing her forever without seeing her once more.

  She called him when she got back into town asking if he would be willing to take her fishing. They met at the marina early on Saturday morning. She wore her Christmas hat. He took her to the fishing sp
ots where she had had success before. Too soon, she had caught her limit and she was ready to go home.

  Ray wasn't. He suggested they drift for a while. He propped up a couple of life jackets and beckoned her to join him in the bottom of the boat. She snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest. He touched her with his free hand, exploring her body for what may have been the last time. It was all he could do not to cry.

  She whispered very sadly, “You have received some more information from your librarian in Atlanta, haven't you?”

  He buried his face in her hair and said, “Yes.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “What do you think?”

  She laughed. “Good one. Since I have no idea what you know, or think you know, how can I answer that?”

  “What I would prefer, if you don't mind, is for you to tell me anything you haven't previously mentioned.”

  “So you can see if it matches what you have discovered? No. I'm not going to play that game. If you have something you want to ask me about, ask. I'm not going to play guessing games with you.”

  “Okay. Here goes. Question 1: I understand you all but stalked Roland Wilson. Why? From what I have learned of him, he really doesn't seem like your type.”

  “Yes, I sought him out. Aurelio wanted me to get married. I wasn't really interested in men (my track record on that score was abysmal), but I did rather want to have kids. Aurelio convinced me some rich society person would be great husband material. Aurelio knew I liked to get involved in charity work and he thought I'd make a good society wife. He suggested Roland, who was marketing himself as a sort of altruist.

  “I had never heard of Roland, but I checked him out, and he sounded like a good prospect. It's quite possible Aurelio was manipulating me into moving in on Roland for his purposes, but I assure you my motives were entirely personal. And for the record, we never had kids because Roland was almost totally uninterested in sex or in me for that matter. He had some all-consuming Utopian Vision that eclipsed everything else.” She sighed, “I guess that's for the best, after all that has happened. I'd hate to have put kids through the ordeal I've endured.”