All Through the Night Read online

  “Stop.”

  “What would you say to those people in the boardroom? How this guy you know, he slept rough for almost two years?”

  “Wayne, listen to me. I hate those things.”

  “No, Tatyana. No. You belong there.”

  “I will never belong.”

  His smile felt false even on the inside. “Sure thing.”

  “Sometime soon I will tell you just how wrong you are. But not now. Because I can’t speak of these things without weeping. Me. Tatyana Kuchik. Belonging.” Her voice did not alter. But her neck was locked taut in her determined battle for control, and the skin of her wrists and hands were chalk-white where she gripped the wheel. “I will tell you how I felt as a child. I will explain just how horrible it was in that orphanage, and what my beauty cost me. I will describe how I returned to those exact same feelings when my husband cheated on me. How I tried to belong to that world for him, and how I failed. How it was all a lie.”

  “You’re beautiful. You’re intelligent. You’ve got a killer job. You’ll pick yourself up—”

  “Yes. All this is true. All right. I agree. But answer me this, Wayne Grusza. Why was I so miserable all the time I tried my best to belong? Why do I feel happy now, when I am with you?”

  “You can’t be happy. You’re crying.”

  She released the grip of one hand so she could pound the wheel. “Answer me.”

  He started to reach over and touch her cheek because he had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life as that tear. The only thing he could think to say was how he had a knack for making women cry. But no way was he going to ruin the moment with anything that sounded so stupid in his head.

  Maybe he could learn a little impulse control after all.

  Then it struck him.

  “Wait a minute. Wait a minute.”

  “What?”

  “Stop here for a second. Just pull over. I need to check something.”

  Tatyana put on her blinker with one hand and used the other to clear her face. She sniffed loudly and slowed. “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure.” He flipped through the papers. Back and forth. Searching.

  “Wayne?”

  “Hold that thought.” He heard a vehicle pull up behind them and doors open and close. He kept turning the pages, ignoring the sound of approaching footsteps.

  Someone knocked on his window. He flipped another page.

  Tatyana sniffed and wiped her face again, then used the driver’s controls to lower Wayne’s window. Jerry asked, “What’s going on here?”

  “Wayne thinks—”

  “Here it is! “ Wayne held the sheet over where Tatyana could read. He felt a current surge through his fingers. “Okay. Tell me what you see.”

  Tatyana blinked hard and rubbed her cheek a third time. “A list of minority partners for one of the Teledyne partnerships.”

  “Right.” He lifted the second sheet. The charge emanating from the page only grew stronger. “Now here.”

  “You okay, Tatyana?” Jerry asked.

  “Yes.” She struggled hard to reknit the professional veil. “The same thing again. Another project run by Teledyne, another group of minority shareholders.”

  “The one name that’s the same in both places. It mean anything to you?”

  “Cloister.” She thought hard. “No. Why?”

  Jerry said, “I heard that name before.”

  “Sure you have.” This from Julio. “They’re building that swanky development down from the community. We ran there.”

  Jerry snapped his fingers. “The new mini-town. Sure.”

  “Call the office,” Wayne said to Tatyana. “See who owns them.”

  Instead, Tatyana reached to the back seat and pulled her laptop from her briefcase. She keyed in and waited for the satellite link to search and hook up. She typed for a moment, then raised her eyebrows. She turned the computer so Wayne could read from the screen.

  Jerry said, “You want to clue us in here?”

  Wayne interpreted what the data was telling him. “Triton lists Cloister as a wholly owned subsidiary. Cloister is based on Grand Cayman Island. The Caymans are one of the world’s most notorious centers for money laundering and crime-backed financing. Three months back, Cloister set up a US subsidiary. Probably required to handle their new development. And guess who is listed as their joint venture partner.”

  Jerry shrugged. “I give up.”

  Tatyana said, “Triton.”

  Jerry said, “Triton is partnering with itself? That makes no sense at all.”

  “Sure it does. If the guys putting it together are in the business of hiding profits and manufacturing scams.”

  Jerry tapped his marine ring on the window frame. “I’m not following this tune and I’m still ready to boogie.”

  Wayne asked Tatyana, “Can you find out the names of Cloister’s corporate officers?”

  “I’ll check.”

  Time was marked by the swoosh of passing cars and the low of cattle. The day’s heat flooded through the open window. No one complained. Finally Tatyana breathed, “I don’t believe it.”

  “Show me.”

  She watched his face as she angled the laptop so both he and Jerry could read together. “Trace Neally.”

  Jerry fisted Wayne’s shoulder. “Lock and load, bro.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  They stopped for gas on the outskirts of Naples. The day and the traffic swirled around them. Tatyana used the time to call her office, then had to step away and argue with chopping hand motions for emphasis. Jerry watched her for a time, then said, “I wouldn’t trade places with that lady for a truckload of gold.”

  Julio said, “Like that’s a big worry, the execs gonna come looking for a retired cop.”

  “Look at this. The kid finds religion and grows a lip.”

  “Hey, just telling it like I see it, bro.”

  Wayne asked, “You know Victoria’s phone number?”

  Jerry took Tatyana’s phone, keyed in a number, waited, and asked, “How you doing, sister. Yeah? That’s real good. There’s a man here wants to have a word.”

  Julio asked, “When you’re done, mind if I say something?”

  Wayne took the phone and asked, “Have you heard anything?”

  “Not from the kidnappers. But I have from God.”

  Wayne turned away from the watching men. “Say again.”

  “He spoke to me in my morning prayers. Clear as daylight. He said it was all going to work out fine. Thanks to you.”

  Wayne worked on that for a moment, his thoughts keeping pace with the highway traffic. “He give you any details? As in, how we’re supposed to pull this off?”

  “I expect He’s waiting for you to ask Him that yourself.”

  Wayne allowed himself to confess what had been weighing on him for days. He pitched his voice low enough for the thundering traffic to mask it from the others. “I’m so tired. And worried.”

  “Well, of course you are.” Victoria’s smile was as clear as a song. “I’ll tell you something that comes from my own heart, Wayne Grusza. You’re a warrior. You’re made to slay dragons. But even warriors need strength from beyond themselves. Not muscular strength. You have that in abundance. The wisdom of right choices and correct directions. The wisdom to know where the dragons lie in wait. Even Solomon needed the Lord’s wisdom.”

  He tasted the words long before he actually said them. “Will you pray for me?”

  “Son, I’ve been doing little else. I’d say it’s time you tried that for yourself, wouldn’t you?”

  “All right.” He stepped further from the others. He stared into the daylight and pushed the words out in tight little puffing breaths. When he was done, he had to hold himself apart like that a little longer, waiting for his world to unlock.

  “Amen,” the quiet old woman said. “I say, amen.”

  He collected himself a moment longer, then said, “The reason I called, Easton Grey’s daughter is hav
ing a hard time with all this. She’s dreaming of escape to Africa and it’s getting to her folks. I was wondering if maybe you could call her.”

  “I’ll do that soon as we hang up.” Her quiet song rang above the traffic’s din. “But son, that’s not why you phoned.”

  “No. Maybe not.” He returned to the two men. “Here’s Julio.”

  Julio grabbed the phone and did his own two-step across the parking lot.

  Jerry observed, “Looks to me like the lady gave your tree a good shake.”

  “She said God told her everything was going to be all right.”

  “First time she gave me one of those God messages, I laughed in her face. Then it turned out she was totally on target and I had to eat my words. Victoria told us God said we shouldn’t give the scammer a job.” Jerry shook his head. “No telling where we’d be if we’d listened to her on that one.”

  Tatyana clicked her phone shut and stalked back to where they stood. “My two allies in the company, the ones who have searched for what might be going on, they’ve both been fired.” She was more than tight. She was furious. “Because they tried to help me. I’ve cost them their jobs.”

  Wayne touched her arm. Felt the anger and the steel. Said what he thought she needed to hear. “The fight is not over yet.”

  “There you go,” Jerry said. “How you want to handle this?”

  Wayne kept his arm and his gaze on Tatyana. “We go in there and we take back what’s ours.”

  THIRTY

  The bridge to Lantern Island shone like polished coral in the sunlight. Wayne felt his mouth turning dry. There was no reason for it. But he could not control his response. He watched Tatyana lower her window and give her name to the security guard, then point to the truck pulling in behind her and saying they were with her also. The guard picked up his phone and dialed, leaning over as he did so and glancing into the car. Wayne’s gut tightened.

  Tatyana accepted the day pass, rolled up her window, then noticed his reaction. “What’s the matter?”

  He was about to say, Nothing. He had never thought of it as his normal response before, but that’s what it was. Offering the outside world a standard denial. Pretending he wasn’t touched by a thing.

  “Wayne?”

  He touched his lips with his tongue. No longer. Not with her. Not as long as she let him. He said, “This is the first time I’ve ever done this legit.”

  A car behind the truck popped his horn. Tatyana put the car into gear and moved forward. “Done what?”

  “Come to Lantern Island.” He pointed to his right. “There’s your turn.”

  “I don’t understand. You’ve been here before?”

  “Too many times. My ex-wife lives down at the island’s other end. She married a doctor.” The place looked remarkably different in the light of day. Besides which, he had not been to the island’s north end. Until now, he had had no reason. The lots were even bigger here than in the south, the homes almost completely hidden behind banks of blooming oleander and walls given over to ivy and wisteria.

  Wayne felt her eyes and faced her. Waiting for the question. But whatever she saw was enough for her to turn back to the road.

  The Neally residence was what Wayne had come to think of as typical Florida rich. Stucco exterior painted off-gold. Oversized windows. Clay-tile roof. Pillars around the front entrance and side porch. More pillars visible through the front door’s etched glass.

  Tatyana rang the doorbell. The house interior echoed with four big chimes. Jerry glanced back to where Julio sat in the truck, watching them. “This here is some serious strangeness.”

  Tatyana said, “You know about Wayne having been here before?”

  “Done one trip with him. Came in to extract the scam artist and his cash.” Jerry examined Wayne more closely. “You okay with this?”

  Wayne touched his lips again. Wondering the same thing himself.

  “Why didn’t you say something before we got here?” Tatyana asked. “We could’ve handled this one on our own.”

  Wayne heard footsteps echo toward them. “Foster’s still out there.”

  A maid in a monochrome uniform and a face trained to show nothing answered the door. Tatyana spoke to her in Spanish. Wayne recognized only Tatyana’s last name. He made a mental note to ask how many other languages the lady spoke.

  The maid stepped back with the door. Her stare was blank. She did not speak. She merely pointed toward the rear of the house, shut the door after them, and departed. Wayne tasted the air.

  Jerry noticed it too. “This place don’t smell right.”

  The maid’s footsteps pattered softly into the tiled distance. The house had an empty feel.

  Tatyana looked from one man to the other. “What’s the matter?”

  Wayne said, “Go find the maid, see if she’ll tell you anything.”

  Jerry motioned with his chin. “Take a look at our guy.”

  At the rear of the house, glass doors opened onto a large pool area. A man was seated partly protected from the sunlight by a big square umbrella. A glass of something that sweated sat by his hand. The sun had shifted while he sat, so that the man now rested half in and half out of the sunlight. Neither the sunlight nor the doorbell had shifted him. Jerry said, “Something is seriously wrong here.”

  “Try the maid,” Wayne repeated.

  He and Jerry started toward the rear of the house. The living room was basically an extension of the front hall, given a mock separation by a large frame around the entryway and three marble steps down to a divider of some expensive looking wood, maybe cherry. The fireplace to Wayne’s right was carved from the same wood and rose in inlaid waves the entire twenty feet or so to the ceiling. The rear of the house was one long series of glass French doors. The furniture outside was an all-weather match to the same ivory tones used for the living room. Everything very tasteful and feminine.

  Jerry said, “You know the good-cop, bad-cop thing?”

  Wayne pointed at the living room’s coffee table. A Cosmo magazine and a People sat next to an empty vase. “The magazines are from last month.”

  “Pay attention here.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing. This place is shouting feminine, and there’s not a woman in sight.”

  “Yeah, so listen to what I’m telling you. I won’t say a thing out here unless you give me the signal. Just pull on your ear and I’ll be all over the guy.”

  Wayne opened the middle French doors. “Mr. Neally?”

  The man did not rise. “I was told to expect Grey’s attorney,” he said. “What’s her name. Kuchik.”

  Wayne crossed the blinding white pool deck. “We’re her associates.”

  “There’s nothing I can tell you.”

  He was in his midfifties and had enough paunch to hide his belt. But he still looked like a little boy. Inflated cheeks, rosy lips, wispy moustache. The legs emerging from his shorts showed no definition whatsoever and were red in the manner of someone who did not tan easily. He wore a tan knit shirt with crossed golf clubs and the island’s name on the crest. Wayne took it slow, picking up a chair and drawing it to where he could sit sheltered beneath the umbrella. “The sun’s so hot, Mr. Neally. Why don’t you scoot over a bit.”

  “I was just going inside.”

  “Sure. Listen. We have just a couple of questions and—”

  “Why is your buddy standing up like that?”

  “We’ve been sitting all the way from Orlando. We made the trip just so we—”

  “Tell him to move over where I can see him. I don’t like people hovering.”

  Jerry stepped across to where an overhang protected an outdoor grill and steel-fronted fridge. He moved deeper into the shadows and effectively vanished. Wayne said, “I need to ask you—”

  “There’s nothing I can say that will be of any help. I told Easton the same thing. I received an unsigned memo requesting my attendance at a disciplinary board hearing. I did not know it was about Kuchik until I got t
here. End of story.”

  To his left, the pool glistened a perfect blue. A motorized vacuum robot scoured the pool floor, snaking a long accordion hose out behind. A hummingbird flitted down in a lightning stroke of rose and gold, drank from the pool, and vanished. The air held an edgy metallic flavor only a real-time combatant ever tasted. Wayne felt the entire day was etched with acidic clarity.

  The man was not speaking to him.

  He did not know why he felt that. But his gut was working overtime. All he knew for certain was he needed to keep the guy talking.

  “We’re way beyond that, Mr. Neally. We wanted to talk with you about Cloister.”

  The man had been still before. Now he froze. “What?”

  The paper in his lap was the Wall Street Journal. Wayne read the date upside down. The paper was from the previous weekend. Only three or four of the crossword’s spaces had been filled in. “Cloister. You’re a member of their new US subsidiary’s board of directors, aren’t you?”

  “I can’t talk about that.”

  “We can wait until Tatyana comes out if you like.”

  “Bring whoever you like. It won’t make any difference.” The guy’s voice was very loud for carrying to someone seated next to him. Each word came out separated, as though he were reading a speech to an oversized crowd. “Cloister is involved in a wide variety of confidential projects.”

  “We’re only interested in the partnerships with Triton.”

  “I don’t care what you’re interested in.” The pudgy fingers deliberately tore off a strip from the corner of the newspaper. “I am unable to answer any questions about Cloister or Triton or anything else.”

  “Where is your family, Mr. Neally?”

  “That’s none of your concern.” Trace Neally balled up the slip of paper, then used both arms of the chair to push himself to his feet. The rest of the newspaper slid unnoticed onto the deck. “I told Easton this was a mistake. Now you really must leave.”

  Jerry emerged from the shadows. But before Jerry could give voice to the bellow building in his face, Wayne jerked his head. Back and forth very swiftly. Jerry subsided.