Chapter 28 #2
“Boston, packed with the rest of it.” He pulls the desk chair out and drops into it.
“Equipment is expensive, and, in case you forgot, I was in New York setting up a new base. That means new safehouses that need the gear. I wasn’t exactly planning on setting foot on that fucking island again for a job or otherwise.
I only kept a few things like the cameras, router, jammer and a few weapons.
I had to hook up my own laptop to get to work. ”
“And where are the guns you kept?”
“Moved them upstairs. There is no need to have them down here anymore.” He moves the secondary stool and gestures for me to sit beside him.
Then he hits the keyboard and the surveillance screens are replaced with open documents.
“I’ve been through Ashford’s financials for the last four hours.
It’s basically a dead end. No shell companies, property trusts, LLCs registered in Delaware or the Cayman Islands.
He only owns one house in Miami, and he shares it with his sister. ”
“He hasn’t sold off any property in the last eighteen months?”
“None. I’ve checked under his alias, Jacob Torrance, as well. Marcus ran the same search and hit the same wall.”
“Well, he must have her here somewhere.”
“What makes you think he keeps her on the Vineyard?”
“To get off this island, you can’t just drive to the next city or smuggle someone across the border.
You need a ferry or a plane. Now, she didn’t go with him willingly, right?
My guess is he had to drug her to kidnap her.
He took her yesterday evening. That means no ferries, assuming you can sneak an unconscious person onto a ferry in the first place.
That leaves planes, which is almost impossible unless it’s a private jet. ”
“He could have chartered one, off the books, or used a water taxi or a fishing boat.”
“And then come back here for optics? That doesn’t make any sense.
The timeframe doesn’t work either. He drove her car to Aquinnah.
He took the ferry to Boston this morning and back to the Vineyard, and then he stayed the whole day.
What would be his plan B if he got caught here, which almost happened?
Leave her to die? His partner is dead. He works solo. ”
I look straight into his eyes. “If you kidnapped someone, nailed them down on a display table and kept them immobile, someone you’re supposedly obsessed with, wouldn’t you stay close to them? To feed them, cater to their basic needs, watch them for your sick pleasure?”
He holds my gaze for a while. I don’t break eye contact because I know, so does he, I’m on to something.
Tristan brings out his phone. “The photo he sent was from a burner in Aquinnah. I doubt it was live. It would be stupid to go back to where he was keeping her when half the city’s police were hunting him.”
“I agree. That means he’s had that photo ready to send to mess with you.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to comb the area just to be sure. I’ve sent some of our men on the task already.”
“Okay. What can I do?”
He hits more keys and angles the laptop monitor toward me.
“I need eyes on the harbor at Oak Bluffs. I don’t agree Birdie is on the Vineyard, but she must be close.
One thing you got right, though, is that the best way to move her is by sea, so I looked into recent purchases and rentals of boats.
Nothing caught my attention. Same old rich white folks selling their boats.
That’s when I went through insurance databases and Coast Guard registration changes, and guess what? ”
I study the boat insurance document opened on the screen, and then Oak Bluffs Harbor transient dock records and marina receipts.
“There’s a Beneteau forty-two that arrived at Oak Bluffs Harbor from Miami about two months ago.
That boat has been re-registered in Massachusetts to a man named Zachary Castille, and the seller’s name is? ”
“I can’t find the sale record of that boat. All I got is the insurance re-registration, but I’m guessing it’s Ashford, and that name Zachary Castille is another alias of his.” He stands and pulls his jacket back on. “I could be wrong, but it’s all we have right now. I want it ruled out.”
“Yeah. I’ll get to it.”
“You’re not cleared to go alone.”
“I can manage.”
“You could bleed on a public dock and attract attention we don’t need.
” He pulls out a big phone from his pocket and presses it into my hand.
Is that the satellite phone? What is it doing in his pocket?
He didn’t mention he kept it among the equipment he left here.
“Call your mother…and sister. Then get some more sleep. I’ll have Marcus meet you in Oak Bluffs at first light. ”
“My mother and sister?”
“Didn’t you say if Birdie was your mother or sister, you’d want someone to go the extra mile to save her? I’m assuming you have those.”
“I do, yeah, too many of them sisters.”
Something shifts at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but the closest thing to one I’ve seen from him in days. “Can’t say I know how that is. I don’t have any siblings.”
“You’re lucky, sir.”
“Agree to disagree. After my parents passed away, it’d have been nice to have a brother or a sister.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, sir.”
“Your folks still alive?”
“My mother is. My father…passed away recently.”
Tristan is quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet that means he heard more than the words. “Sorry to hear that. Were you close?”
“Not especially. He was in and out. More out than in.”
“More reason to call your mom. You were shot today, Brandon. You need to let her know you’re okay.”
“We’re not really talking at the moment.”
He doesn’t ask why, which somehow makes it easier to say.
“She didn’t take it well when I enlisted. She wanted something different for me. Something quieter.” I pause. “I thought she’d come around when I came to work for you. She didn’t budge, though. Private security wasn’t exactly the quieter life she had in mind.”
“More reason to make that call. Not because she deserves it, or because you’ve resolved anything. Call her because you were shot today and you lived to make that phone call because maybe one day that phone call won’t be possible anymore.”
I don’t have an argument for that. I’m not sure I want one. I stare at the phone as the monitor cycles through its rotations. The cove, the trees, the empty path.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll go do just that and then wait for your orders. What about you?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. He’s already looking at the part of the screen showing the cove.
The black water, the restless white edges of the waves.
“I’ll be here, see if I can find anything else.
By the way, there’s soup in the kitchen or take something from the shelves.
You need to eat to get your strength back. ”
I close my hand around the phone and head for the stairs, and I don’t look back at the sand on the floor or on his shoes or at the wet print his left boot left on the concrete.
A good soldier carries silence like a weapon. He knows when to clock the details and when to lock them away.