Chapter 23
It was the next morning when Isabella called back. “You’re not going to like this.”
I stifled a groan.
Jack and I chowed down on the sky deck. I put the call on speaker so he could hear.
“I reached out to all of my contacts. I've used all my resources. I can't find anything about Aqus or a covert research program. I’m going to dig into their financials.”
I had given her all the details about the alleged program. "What do you think about this? Is it possible or pure fantasy?"
"The technology exists. Genetic manipulation is commonplace now. It's the neurotransmitter that could be the weak link, but there are private companies doing incredible things with neural interfaces.”
"Keep digging. See what you can find.”
"The problem is if I dig deep enough and actually find something I'm not supposed to find, somebody could get upset.”
“When have you ever been shy about upsetting people?”
“I’m just saying… if this is a covert program, it might be better left alone.”
"I know you know how to look after yourself.”
"I’ll cover my tracks. I’ll dig quietly.
" Then she added, "By the way, I found something about one of your suspects. Ethan Rexrode is definitely getting large crypto transfers into his account daily. It’s hard to tell where it's coming from.
It's all washed through a privacy coin, just like you thought.
Then he's putting it into another privacy coin and buying prepaid debit cards online and using those debit cards to fund transactions on For the Fans.”
I couldn't use any of that information in a court of law, but it was good to know. "See if you can figure out where the money initially came from."
"That's a tall order. Whoever is behind this has done a really good job of covering their tracks.”
"Understood.”
"Listen, I gotta run. I'll be in touch."
I thanked her again and ended the call, then said to JD, “I think we need to have another talk with Ethan and turn up the heat.”
We pulled ourselves together and drove to Sandpiper Point. At the Obsession, we crossed the gangway and stepped to the aft deck. I knocked on the glass salon door.
There was no answer.
I knocked again.
Still nothing.
I took the starboard side, and JD took port. We moved forward on the side decks and rejoined at the foredeck, where there was a U-shaped settee and another sun pad.
The area was empty.
We walked back to the aft deck, and I pulled on the door handle. It slid open, and I shouted into the salon, “Ethan? You around?”
The lines creaked as the boat drifted in the slip.
“Ethan?”
Shards of broken glass sparkled on the deck in the salon. A glass had been knocked off a table. A few blood drips stained the deck. My senses were on high alert.
“His car is in the parking lot,” JD said.
“Maybe he went out on a bike ride,” I quipped. My fingers pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Ethan’s number.
Ethan’s phone rang below deck, and the ringtone drifted up to the salon.
“Maybe he’s passed out,” JD said. “Probable cause for a welfare check,” he suggested.
I drew my pistol and pushed into the salon.
Jack followed.
Between the broken glass and the blood, I felt we had probable cause.
The boat was the perfect bachelor pad. Elegant appointments in the salon, large windows, and lots of room. There was a starboard side helm station and a companionway to port that led down to the galley and dining area. The forward windows created a nice atrium, giving the galley an open feel.
We moved around the broken glass and took cautious steps down the stairway.
Another blood drip stained the deck.
The galley had a full-size fridge, stove, cooktop, and plenty of stowage.
JD and I cleared the forward V-berth and en suite, then made our way aft, past two guest berths with en suites. After clearing the compartments, we continued aft down the passageway, following the blood drips to the master.
We held up at the hatch to the master stateroom. With our weapons at the ready, I gave a nod to JD. He grabbed the handle, twisted, and flung the door open. I swung my barrel into the compartment and swept the space.
I wasn’t totally surprised by what I found.