Chapter 2
Not long after four a.m., Andre Parker guided the small Zodiac boat down the Long Island coast, checking his phone every few minutes. On its screen was a map, upon which a red dot flashed, marking his destination.
He moved closer to shore and grinned when the private pier came into view.
The summer house to which the pier belonged was owned by a wealthy, elderly couple who hadn’t used the place in several years, making it perfect for Andre’s needs.
Normally, it was kept in an onshore boathouse, next to the dock.
But a week prior, the company that provided a caretaking service for the property had been notified that a guest of the owners would be staying at the house for a few weeks.
The company had been instructed to put the vessel into the water, so that the guest could use it whenever they wanted.
Which was why the Ocean Sport was currently floating beside the dock.
Andre guided the smaller Zodiac to the pier and tied it to the larger boat. After he moved onto the Ocean Sport, he released its mooring lines and motored back to sea with the Zodiac in tow.
Once he determined he was far enough from shore, and the radar showed no other vessels nearby, he released the ropes connecting the two boats, pressed the remote in his pocket, and watched the Zodiac sink into the Atlantic Ocean.
He returned to the dock and resecured the Ocean Sport in the exact spot it had been in when he’d arrived. Then, even though he’d been wearing gloves, he wiped down every surface he had touched.
People in his profession could never be too careful.
Tomorrow, the caretakers would receive an email informing them that the guest’s plans had changed, and no one would be using the house after all. The company would be asked to return the Ocean Sport to the boathouse, and not a soul would know that Andre had been there.
Andre made his way to the property’s stand-alone garage, behind which was the stolen sedan he’d left there a few days ago. He’d equipped the vehicle with motion activated cameras, so he already knew that no one had stumbled upon it.
Two hours later, he used a stolen badge to let himself into the airline employee parking lot at JFK. He parked the sedan in an empty spot, knowing it would probably be days before anyone noticed the unauthorized vehicle.
Next came the part of his plan he’d been looking forward to the least: the long walk to the AirTrain, which he would take to Jamaica Station, and from there the subway home.
As he started to make his way, he retrieved a throwaway phone from his bag and called the number he’d memorized.
“Yes?” a voice answered.
“It’s done,” Andre said, then hung up.
He popped out the SIM card and broke it in two, then he broke the phone apart and disposed of the pieces one by one.