James Grippando - Blood Money

“It’s me,” she said, and he knew immediately it was Sydney.

“Are you on a cell?” he asked.

“No. Pay phone.” Jack could hear the traffic noise in the background.

“Do you have a cell?” he asked.

“Yeah. Merselus gave me an iPhone when he met me at the airport, but I’m sure that’s just so he could listen to every call I make.”

“That’s perfect.”

“No, it’s not perfect,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t even turn the damn thing on because I know he can track me with GPS.”

“Listen to me, Sydney. I’m going to put Andie on in a minute. She can tell you how to disarm the GPS tracking. And then you’re going to turn that phone on.”

“What? No! He is going to find me, and he is going to kill me!”

“Merselus is not going to find you. We are going to find him .”

“How?”

“You need to do exactly what I tell you to do,” said Jack.

At eleven P.M. Jack was pacing across the rug in his family room, ready to leave the house, waiting for the cell phone to ring.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Andie.

If it were about Sydney, Jack would have agreed with her. But it was about putting a stop to the guy who had left Celeste in a coma, strangled Rene, and threatened his grandmother. The plan wasn’t to get Sydney her life back. It was to catch a killer.

“Yeah, I do,” said Jack.

Sydney’s iPhone from Merselus was the key. All of her calls to Jack over the next ninety minutes would be from that phone to Theo’s cell. Using Jack’s cell wasn’t an option, as suddenly having a conversation with Sydney on a line that Jack had essentially abandoned after Rene’s murder would have surely raised suspicions in Merselus’ mind. It was enough that Sydney’s iPhone was infected with spyware, and the FBI had the technology in place to confirm that someone was actively monitoring the call in real time. And then they would know that Merselus was taking the bait.

At five minutes past the hour, Theo’s cell rang. The intent was for the ensuing conversation to be for effect only, tied loosely to the script that Jack and Andie had worked out in advance. The less Sydney said the better, and Jack crossed his fingers in hopes that she didn’t screw it up. He put the phone on speaker so that Andie could hear.

“Did you make a decision?” said Jack.

“Yes.”

“When can we meet?”

“Slow down,” said Sydney. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not saying for sure that I’ll testify in court. I’m not promising I’ll even go to court.”

Jack stopped pacing and bit back his anger. Just ten seconds into the implementation of the plan and Sydney was already ad-libbing. She really does think she’s a freakin’ movie star.

“That’s fine, Sydney. I just want us to get together and talk. When can we meet?”

“Tonight.”

“Okay. Let’s meet at-”

“At eleven thirty, Bayfront Park, in front of the central fountain.”

That wasn’t Jack and Andie’s plan, but Sydney hung up before Jack could respond. Jack put the cell phone away, looked at Andie, and said, “She’s following her own script.”

“She obviously doesn’t trust you,” said Andie.

“Or anyone else, I would imagine.”

Andie’s cell rang. It was her tech agent. The call lasted less than a minute, and then she shared the news with Jack.

“Sydney’s call to you was monitored,” she said.

“At least something went as expected,” he said, alluding to the curve Sydney had thrown them about the meeting place.

“The FBI can work with her ad-libbing,” said Andie. “But that doesn’t mean you have to, Jack.”

Jack thought about it. “If Merselus wanted me dead, I’d already be dead.”

“That’s one way to look at it. But this is not without risk. Merselus could figure out that you’re trying to set him up and retaliate. He could come around to the view that you’re the only thing standing between him and Sydney and decide it’s time to take you out. Any number of things could go wrong.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“I want you to go in with your eyes open.”

Jack weighed it another minute, his gaze drifting down the hallway and coming to rest on the door to the guest bedroom, where Abuela lay sleeping. “What am I supposed to do, wait for my grandmother to end up like Rene?”

Andie didn’t answer.

“And while I’m at it, maybe I should tell the Laramore family that I have to drop their case against BNN because it could be dangerous to find out who grabbed their daughter by the throat. And I can just keep using Theo’s cell for the next six months while the FBI monitors my private phone lines, I can send Max to go live permanently with the Kayal family, and I can just forget about ever taking another walk from my office to Theo’s bar unless I want to get choked by some psycho jumping out of the bushes.”

“It’s maddening, I know.”

“Way beyond maddening,” said Jack.

“So, it’s a go?”

Jack started toward the front door. “Yeah,” he said as he grabbed his car keys from the hook on the wall. “Let’s do this.”

Jack reached the park about ten minutes early, not quite eleven twenty.

As the name implies, Bayfront Park abuts Biscayne Bay in downtown Miami. Biscayne Boulevard, the city’s widest thoroughfare, borders on the west, separating thirty-two acres of greenery, walkways, and serenity from the sheer face of the towering Miami skyline. To the south is the high-rise hotel from which the big glowing orange drops every New Year’s Eve-which Jack and Andie had learned the hard way was the perfect place for folks who hate cold weather but love that Times Square feeling of ringing in the new year while drowning in a sea of loud, drunken strangers.

“I see you,” said Andie, her voice somewhat mechanical sounding in his earpiece. Jack did not reply; he had no microphone, as moving his lips could have tipped off Merselus that he was wired for communication.

“Walk a little slower if you can hear me,” said Andie. She was confirming his reception.

Jack slowed as he approached the Flagler Street entrance to the park’s main east-west axis. The central fountain was in sight and due east, halfway between him and the shoreline. The Miami Dade Courthouse was a short ride away on the elevated Metromover. Over the years, in many a trial, Jack had strolled past the park’s central fountain on his way to the beach chairs on the shoreline, where he would consult with passing dolphins and manatees on what verdict his jury might return.

“Okay, we’re good,” said Andie. “Keep moving.”

Jack resumed walking at his normal pace. Each step took him deeper into the canopy of tall trees and farther away from the urban glow of the office towers behind him. Soon he was entirely dependent on the moon and the streetlamps that lined the walkway to break the darkness. The amphitheater was up and over the embankment to his left, as was the Feng Shui Garden. Jack stayed on course, walking directly toward the fountain. It was quiet at this hour, essentially an oversize concrete bowl of motionless water on an enormous circle of coral-stone pavers in the dead center of the park.

“Stop,” said Andie.

He did. Jack was standing on the outermost ring of stone pavers that encircled the fountain. A string of park benches ran along the outer perimeter. Jack counted five homeless people asleep on the benches.

He wondered if one of them was Merselus.

Jack’s phone rang. The tech agents had rigged it so that Andie could hear.