Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Me

57

We made our way onto the jetty, pulling the dinghy up onto the rocks before Hawk punctured it with a long knife and kicked it into the water. We kept to the western side of the jagged rocks, crouching in shadows until we dashed into a thick patch of foliage at the southern tip of Bonnet’s Cut.

I was so glad to be off the boat that I nearly kissed solid ground. Moving into a thick patch of coconut trees and saltwater bush, we kept low and away from the security lights mounted on palms rocking in the wind. Beyond the trees, a concrete path snaked up to the big house. I pointed to the blue dome as Hawk unwrapped the .500 Magnum, his pockets bulging with more rounds.

We followed the path from behind row after row of blooming hibiscus and birds-of-paradise. The air was wet and smelled of citrus. We would meet up with Godfrey at the house. In twenty minutes, Rex would circle back and idle at the pier.

As we got closer to the big round house, we saw more lights and cameras high in the trees and trained on the grounds. Anyone who was watching at three a.m. would know we’d arrived. I carried the gun in my right hand.

The closer we got to the big house, we heard music and laughter. Splashing.

“Sound like the party started without us,” Hawk said.

“The nerve.”

Bougainvillea bloomed bright red, covering most of a stucco wall. The pool sat directly below the main house, facing west. We darted out of the thick shrubs and up the hill to get a view over the wall.

It was a small party. But I could clearly see Peter Steiner in what could politely be called a blue banana hammock. A topless Poppy Palmer sat alongside him, reclining in a lounge chair. They seemed to be delighted with the rain.

“Poppy?” Hawk said, whispering.

I nodded.

“Sounds right,” he said. “Woman could pop a damn eye out with those things.”

Three young women frolicked in the pool, ducking under the water and swimming to the other side, where they would suddenly reappear. They chirped and laughed in high voices, calling out to Poppy. Finally, Poppy jumped off the chair and dove into the pool with them.

There was much frivolity and laugher to the beat of electric dance music. An Asian girl emerged from the pool in a teeny-weenie pink bikini.

“Carly?” Hawk said.

I shook my head.

Hawk pointed to the cottage across the way. I nodded. He ran off into the darkness to connect with Godfrey. I jogged down the hill, through row after row of tropical flowers and plants, the rain falling harder now. This close to the main house, there was enough light to plainly see where I was going. My stomach felt hollow and my shoulders tight. I knew they were with us now, watching, making me an easy target for Ruger.

I found another path snaking from the northern side of the pool. The layout was exactly as Shona had drawn it, down to the wooden carving of a mermaid on the wall of the cottage. It looked like a replica fashioned from an old whaling ship. A light was on by the front door.

I flicked on a small flashlight I’d brought, opened the unlocked door, and walked inside. It was cool and quiet inside the cottage, with only the hum of the air conditioner. I pressed into the first door to the left, where I found two girls asleep in two small beds.

Both girls, very young, with platinum-blond hair, shot upright in the bed, shielding their blue eyes and speaking to me in what sounded like Russian. I asked them three times for Carly Ly. When they didn’t answer, I showed them the photo on my phone.

One of the girls, who looked all of twelve, pointed back into the hall. I smiled, put a finger to my lips, and moved farther into the cottage. Two bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, and a common area.

Carly slept on a couch in the common area. I shook her awake.

She woke up with a scream and tried to bite my hand. I covered her mouth.

“I came from Boston,” I said. “Maria Tran got your email.”

She stopped screaming. I let go slowly, careful she didn’t bite into one of my fingers.

“You know Maria?” she said.

I told her that I’d met her father and sister at their family restaurant on Revere Beach. The more I spoke, the more she seemed to believe me. I tried to appear as cool and trustworthy as possible, as armed men were probably coming for us.

“But I never sent Maria an email,” she said.

My stomach tightened as I gripped the handle of my gun. I understood now and nodded to the sliding glass doors. “Leave everything and come with me.”

She was dressed only in a Pats T-shirt that hit her knees.

“What about the others?” she said.

I ran into the first bedroom and motioned for the Russian girls to come with me. They looked so much alike they could’ve been twins. Their bodies shook and chins quivered as Carly tried to explain she was following me, pointing to the back door. When they started to pack the clothes, Carly grabbed their arms and shook them. “There’s no time,” she said.

Through the glass, I saw a bank of hibiscus plants rocking in the wind and rain. I slid open the door and motioned to the girls.

We could make our way north and down the hill from the big house. I looked at my watch. Rex would be there in ten minutes.

Hawk knew when and where to meet. All I had to do was get the girls to the landing. Like my uncle Bob used to say, all was going according to Hoyle.

The Russians whispered to themselves as they followed me and Carly. At one point, Carly lost her footing and nearly toppled down the hill. I caught her, and she kicked off her slippery flip-flops, scurrying behind, careful with each step.

I stopped and looked down to the illuminated pier, yet to see Rex. Five minutes.

Then there was shouting and shooting. Quick pistol shots up on the hill. The lights in the big domed house went dark. One of the Russians, blond hair plastered to her head, makeup streaming down her face, started to cry.

I winked at her. I tried to think of any Russian words but could only come up with borscht and Bolshevik.

I pointed down to the pier. One girl nodded and said something to the other. It was hard to tell which was which.

“They said if we made trouble, they’d kill us,” Carly said.

“Not tonight.”

Carly nodded.

We found a series of steps made of stone and coral with a terrace every ten feet or so, landscaped with neat rows of blooming flowers and tropical plants and what appeared to be Roman statues.

We made it down three terraces before we heard footsteps and heavy breathing. I lifted the Browning and pointed it over the hedgerows. Hawk and Godfrey broke through the brush, both out of breath, Godfrey placing his hands on his thighs like a sprinter after a long race.

“How many?” I said.

“Three guards,” Godfrey said.

“And the others?”

“Left two in the dirt,” Hawk said.

“Ruger?” I said.

Hawk shook his head. Godfrey looked at his watch and motioned us away from the garden terrace and down onto the next series of steps. Only three more minutes and we’d hop on board and head straight for Cat Island.

We let the girls go first down to the pier. I motioned for Godfrey and Hawk to follow while I covered them.

At the top of the stone steps near the big house, a man in dark clothing appeared.

I fired at him. He disappeared as someone shot back.

I moved downward from rocky terrace to rocky terrace, off the steps, cutting my face and arms on the broken vines and limbs until I reached the landing. Hawk was speaking French to the blond girls. They seemed to understand him.

“Rex?” I said.

“He’ll be here,” Godfrey said.

Thirty seconds. All I saw was blackness and more rain beyond the dock.

Rain dripped over Godfrey’s lean black face and twisted down his graying beard. Bright lights clicked on all over the island while a high-pitched alarm pulsed from up the hill. He looked to Hawk and nodded.

Godfrey moved toward the staircase and started shooting. Hawk and the girls ran out onto the pier.

“Go,” Godfrey said.

I didn’t need to be asked twice.

I ran. Godfrey fired more.

We waited. We waited more. A minute passed.

No Rex. No Godfrey.

The shooting had stopped, and all I could hear was the creaking of the dock and the strong wind coming off the ocean. A moment later, Hawk lifted his chin at the Roman steps.

A muscled guard marched Godfrey down to the edge of the pier. He had his gun against the back of Godfrey’s head.

The sea churned and lashed at the edge of the pier. Rex wasn’t coming.

“You told me everything is better in the Bahamas?” I said.

“It is,” Hawk said, raising his massive gun fast, and shot the guard.

The guard caught the large round in the chest and fell onto a heap. I heard another shot, and Godfrey tumbled down into the sand like a marionette with cut strings.

I pulled the girls down to the pier and shielded them with my body.

Out of the darkness, Ruger appeared and stepped over Godfrey, picking up his gun.

Two more men followed down from the terraced gardens. I recognized the black guard as one of the men who tried to snatch Mattie in Southie.

Everyone had guns trained on me and Hawk. The girls were facedown and crying on the wet dock. It wasn’t a pretty situation.

“Spenser,” Ruger said. “Time to talk.”