Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The suite was packed the following morning, as everyone crammed in, eager for the debrief.
Max gingerly made his way to the two trolleys laden with food and made up a plate for Violet.
If she didn't eat, she would likely murder a member of her family before the meeting was over.
It was clear they were brimming with questions, seeing as they hadn't stopped talking since he'd followed Violet out of their bedroom, it was only a matter of time before she snapped.
He gave her a plate, laden with eggs and toast, before returning for her mug of coffee.
She took it all without a word, but her fingers lingered against his when he handed the food over.
He got the message. She was grateful. With a small smile, so as not to feel pain, he went back to the trolley and helped himself.
Then he took his seat on the sofa, close beside his wife.
"Everybody ready to start?" Rodrigo said.
He was standing in front of the windows, hands on hips, looking far too refreshed for a man who'd been up most of the night. Behind him, the sky was filled with light gray clouds. The storm had passed but the blue skies hadn't returned just yet.
"Girls," Lian said to the teens. She sat in an armchair as though it was a throne. "Max and Violet are up now. Go to the bedroom and watch TV."
They groaned in complaint at missing out on all the gory details but did as they were told.
"Thanks," Rodrigo said as soon as the door closed behind them. "First up, the cops and the DEA want to talk with you two as soon as you've finished eating." He gestured to Max and Violet.
"We can do that," Max said.
Rochelle, who'd come to the island early that morning, along with Evan, leaned forward in her seat. "How’re you holding up? she asked. "Are you okay?"
Max didn't want to get into the psychological impact of the previous evening's events, so he answered for the physical. "I had excellent medical care and I'm feeling much better." He nodded his thanks to Harvey.
"Dr. Harv to the rescue." The big man beamed.
"Okay," Rodrigo said, thankfully saving Max from more questions he didn't want to answer.
"To summarize, Damien is dead. The DEA have arrested everyone who worked for him.
Well, the ones who are still alive anyway.
Because of the storm, and Abasi disabling every boat he stumbled across, nobody managed to escape the island. "
"All in a day's work," Abasi said as he lounged back in his chair, sipping coffee. The resort uniform was gone and he was dressed in jeans and a tee. "But next time, somebody else gets to play the help."
The team smiled at him.
"The DEA found an extensive drug smuggling operation, using flowers shipped around the world," Rodrigo continued. "They also discovered their inside man wasn't doing his job. Damien was paying him to feed the DEA misinformation."
There was a somber silence. A lot of hardship could have been avoided if the man hadn't given into greed.
"As well as drugs, Damien was using the island for weapons smuggling. The DEA is still trying to figure out how he shipped the guns, but Logan has been able to help with that." He glanced at the triplet dressed entirely in black—in the Caribbean.
"There was a safe behind an ugly ass painting in Damien's study." Logan shuddered at the thought of the artwork. "It had some bookkeeping info as well as an encrypted laptop. Which I gave to Evan." He held up a hand, Evan high-fived it. Now it was his turn.
In contrast to his brother, he was wearing a bright orange Hawaiian shirt over purple shorts. It almost put Max off his food.
"I'm still cracking the encryption on the laptop,” Evan said.
“But from what I've found so far, Damien has been laundering money for a whole bunch of crime lords.
The dude wasn't picky. He's also been working as a broker, or facilitator, between the different gangs, setting up meetings and arranging deals. "
"Seems my guess about the island was right," Rodrigo said. "He was using it as neutral ground to facilitate business between parties who wouldn't otherwise talk to each other." He waved a hand. "The whole place is built on dirty money."
"The DEA managed to round up the leaders of three different crime families," Rochelle said.
"The two you guys spotted, and another from Russia who was keeping a low profile.
They were all here to negotiate with Damien before he met with his partner.
It seems his partner was in a position to smooth their way into the American market. "
Max put his half-finished plate on the floor at his feet, having suddenly lost his appetite. "Do we know who the partner is?"
Beside him, Violet curved a hand over his thigh. He placed his on top of hers and held it tight.
"Yes," Rochelle said with a smile. "It was Senator Arnold Sherrington."
Max sucked in a breath. "The Secretary of the Interior?"
"The very one." Rochelle said. "His family, and Poole's family, go way back.
Sherrington's father and Poole's grandfather were close friends. It seems that when Poole was trying to save the business, the Senator stepped in to help and then wanted more for his money than a chain of hotels. Poole was more than pleased to expand his private business interests, as he was by no means clean before their partnership. Essentially, Damien was the front man and Sherrington used his government influence and connections to make good on the promises Damien made—for a price. Of course, none of this is verified. The Senator told us about the family connection, and lending Damien money, but we’re guessing the rest."
Max's heart sank. With Damien dead, and the Senator far from confessing, all they had was speculation.
"He'll get away with it," he said feeling sick.
"We didn't manage to get any photos of him actually meeting with Damien, and he's been so damn cautious that I doubt he'll turn up in any of the notes Damien left behind—unless it’s under a code name or something.
He's gonna tell everybody that his being on the island was a coincidence.
Hell, he can say he didn't even intend to be here but was herded to the island because of the storm.
The DEA will be his alibi." And how ironic was that?
Violet rubbed her thumb across his thigh in a comforting gesture. Evan, meanwhile, was inappropriately beaming at Max. He practically bounced in his seat.
"Tell him," Rochelle said to the young man.
"This is awesome," Evan said, brimming over with excitement. "Remember that bug we accidentally put in a toilet in Damien's house?"
"Yeah." Max clutched Violet's hand, hardly daring to breathe.
"Well, the Senator took advantage of the bathroom to make a phone call on his satellite phone." Evan grinned as he spoke. "I know it was a satellite phone because the cell network was knocked out by the storm and—"
"Get to the point," Rodrigo rumbled.
"Sorry, right." The triplet sat up straight.
"He talked about it all. How he was done with Damien, how the dude had become a liability and he needed a new partner, how he was raking in a fortune from selling access to the States.
Between the call and the photos Harris took, we've got him by the short and curlies.
" He fist-bumped the air before holding out his hand to Rochelle for a high-five.
She stared at him until he lowered it with a disappointed shake of his head.
Max could hardly believe his ears. He turned to Violet. "We got him?"
"Looks like," she said, satisfaction in those dark eyes of hers. "You can write all about him and Damien, tell the world what they've done."
His stomach lurched at her words. "But Damien won't go to jail."
"Some men aren't meant to make it that far," she said with certainty. "You'll still get justice for a lot of people when you expose his operation."
"Yeah," he said as her words registered. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know how to thank you."
Someone cleared their throat, and he looked around to see Harris waving at him. "I believe this was a team effort, dude."
"Harris!" Violet's mother reprimanded as everyone else chuckled.
But he was right. Max faced each of the team in turn. "I don't have the words to express how grateful I am. Thank you."
Rochelle smiled. "You can thank us by talking up Benson Security in all those articles you're going to write."
"Absolutely." He nodded fervently.
"Now, to the matter of Violet's stalker," Rodrigo said.
"Stalker?" Samuel was out of his chair like a shot. He rounded on Violet. "You have a stalker, and you didn't tell us?"
"Violet," Rosey said, hand over her heart. "You're breaking us with your secrecy. First you don't invite us to your wedding, then you don't tell us you have a dangerous stalker."
Violet huffed out a breath. "First of all, the wedding was fake, which was why you weren't invited. Secondly, the stalker turned out to be a soldier who'd lost his way. His name was Alan Thomas, and he saved my life."
There was no doubting the former soldier had problems, and he'd done things that were wrong, but in the end, he'd given his life to protect Violet. And Max would always be grateful to him for the sacrifice.
"We need to make sure he gets a decent burial," he said to her team.
"I've already taken care of it," Rochelle said. "Lake has a friend who'll fly him home to Scotland. He'll ensure he's given a hero's burial, for his service on behalf of his country, and for saving Violet's life."
"The rest doesn't matter," Violet said, careful not to mention the men Alan had killed or the damage he’d done to her police career. There was no need for her family to know that part of his story. "Not now."
"No," Max agreed. "It doesn't matter now."
Rochelle took a deep breath. "We have one more problem to discuss."
“Oh, come on,” Harris said. “Haven’t we dealt with enough?”
That made everyone chuckle.