“Good,” Babs said. “I have no idea what you did to upset her, but I’m glad to hear you worked it out. I really like her.”
“Just take it easy on her, Babs. And tell the others, also. She’s not used to our way of life.”
Sylvie scoffed. “And you think we were? Well, maybe Babs. But not the rest of us. I assure you, before I met Mace, my life was normal. Boring.”
“I beg to differ,” Mace reported, turning toward his wife with his hands on his hips. “I got called in when David witnessed a murder. That happened before you ever met me.”
Sylvie winced and said, “You know what I mean. The same goes for Helena, Julie, Sara, Nora—”
“You can’t count Claire,” Levi interjected. “She was being chased when I came along.”
“He’s got you there, Sylvie,” Babs laughed.
“I still stick to saying that most of us were leading boring lives,” Sylvie said.
Mace walked over and kissed her forehead. “Yes, but you’ve always said it takes a special woman to be with a Keeper.”
As the others continued to debate, Clay thought about Mace’s statement. Christina was special. And the last thing he wanted was to see if she could handle herself in the middle of a dangerous situation.
The group settled, and Levi began his report. “The FBI said that what we found in the packages was pure heroin. Street value is easily over half a million dollars, maybe more.”
“Any fingerprints?” Clay asked.
“No. They must’ve worn gloves because there were no fingerprints on the papers, plastic wraps, containers, or tape. The tape they used can be found in any store anywhere. Same for the plastic wrap.”
“So, they were heading north at night, and whoever was steering the boat didn’t know their way, so they ended up on the rocks.”
“That’s what it looks like. They were probably afraid they wouldn’t have time to get away if they tried to deal with the bricks of heroin, so they took weights from the boat and dropped them into the water. They probably hoped to go back today or tonight to retrieve them.”
“Was any evidence found on the rocks near the wreckage?”
“There was no physical evidence left at the scene. Again, dealing with professionals.”
Drew snorted. “Professional drug dealers, but amateur boaters.”
“They’re lucky they didn’t burst open the heroin packages when they landed on the rocks. Inhaling that shit would’ve killed them.”
Clay asked, “Is the Bureau watching the area today in case someone goes back?”
Levi nodded. “Yeah, they’ve got it under surveillance, but the Minotaurs questioned will go back and alert the others. I doubt anyone goes looking.”
“How the hell is Jerry Kincaid not being questioned about this?”
Mace sighed. “No evidence. No way to trace this back to him other than a phone message which he didn’t reply to. He can always say it wasn’t meant for him. If they go to him now, they tip their hand that he’s being watched.”
Clay nodded, hating that Mace was right.
Josh added, “He travels a lot, but when in Maine, he mostly stays at Congressman Bennett’s guesthouse.”
“And always alone, right?” Cobb asked. He looked around at the others, then added, “I’m sure what Josh has found is that when Jerry has a date, he’ll entertain them in his condo. It’s important for him to keep his personal life private from the eyes and ears of those on the Bennett estate.”
“He’s right,” Josh said. “And his dates are all above board. No prostitutes, strippers, drug kingpin daughters.”
The others laughed, but Clay watched as Cobb shifted in his seat. “You get this, don’t you?”
Nodding, Cobb replied, “Yeah, politics is a world unto its own. There are rules to follow if you want to get where you’re going. Break them, and you’d better hope it stays out of the press. Although, I gotta admit, things are changing from past times. Nowadays, politicians can get away with all kinds of shit that in my father and grandfather’s time would have had them ousted from their political careers quicker than you can blink.”
“That strict?” Bray asked.
“People fucked up back then, but there was a code to keep quiet. Keep it away from your political enemies. Keep it away from the press. Hell, even in my prep school upbringing, I knew to keep quiet. Try being a quarter Hispanic, a quarter Native American, and only half Caucasian in a mostly white prep school.” He looked around, then shook his head. “My take on Jerry? He’ll do what he can to protect the congressman.”
“So, if Jerry’s trying to keep whatever he’s doing away from Bennett, then would it make sense for him to use the boathouse as a possible stopgap for moving drugs?” Clay asked.
“I know it sounds risky, but sometimes keeping things close to home means you can control the prying eyes. Marinas and harbors have too much traffic and security. But a private boathouse on the congressman’s estate? It could just be exactly what he needs to help move things along.”
Josh shook his head and said, “So far, with surveillance on the boathouse, I haven’t seen anything untoward. Certainly nothing that would tie him into the stash of heroin that was found yesterday, although he spends a lot of time on that top floor of the guesthouse. The one that has windows on every side and looks out over the estate, the main house, and the water.” He looked back toward his screens. “Holy shit.” He leaned closer to the screen. “What the fuck?” Flipping on the audio, the sound of violins filled the main LSI room.
Clay’s eyes jerked toward the surveillance feed that Josh was staring at. He immediately recognized Jerry’s guesthouse. And there, dancing around on the first floor, were two women. One with a violin that was tucked under her arm as she grinned widely at the other woman playing. Christina? What the hell?
Christina twirled several times while playing, smiling as Amelia Bennett clapped and danced. Finally coming to the end of the song, she stopped and plopped into one of the chairs.
“Oh, Ms. Monroe, that’s exactly what I want to do!”
“Amelia, I’m not sure that’s what your parents had in mind when they hired me. Plus, they want you in the high school orchestra, not twirling around in the talent show.”
“The orchestra is so dull, and what you just did was exciting. It made me want to jump up and twirl with you, clap and stomp, and… and… it made me want to practice the violin so that I can do exactly what you did!”
“Well, the practicing part is good.” She leaned back in the chair and lifted her gaze. “This place is amazing. This huge room that goes up three levels with the glass windows on one side has incredible acoustics,” Christina admitted.
“I told you so! I discovered this quite by accident. My mom was having a group of ladies over for tea, but I knew I needed to practice because we were having tryouts at school. I didn’t want to be upstairs where everyone could hear me, and I knew that Mr. Kincaid was gone. I came here just to find a private place to work, then discovered the acoustics made even me sound good!”
“Who’s Mr. Kincaid?”