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“How are the plans coming for the café and square?” Annie asked. “Did my contact Danny Lodge get in touch with either of you?” She directed her question to Izzie and Yoko.
“Yes, he phoned this afternoon. Yoko is going to meet with him tomorrow,” Izzie said.
“Excellent. Anything else we need to cover?” Myra asked.
Everyone murmured about what was on their list. “Alright. Let’s check in tomorrow. Charles, we’ll be leaving for the bank around ten A.M.”
“Right. Will have something for you in the morning.” Charles was culling a list of schools that could benefit from Fielder’s money.
Everyone signed off except Charles, Izzie, Myra, and Annie.
“Charles, you haven’t found any connection between Mason and Walsh, have you?” Izzie asked.
“Nothing. The only thing they have in common is Zoe.”
Izzie pursed her lips. “So strange. Maybe I should pay Ms. Phillips a visit while I am in the city.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Myra asked.
“Zoe really likes this guy. The first man who has garnered her attention since she broke up with Brian. I know she’s heartsick about this. If anything, I’d like to give her some closure, even if it means verifying the guy is a creep. But it would be nice if he isn’t. She’s not taking any of his calls, and, if I know Zoe, she may never respond to him. When she closes a door, it’s slammed shut, bolted, and sealed.”
“I’ll get you the info about the company Louise Phillips works for,” Charles said.
“Are you going to tell Zoe?” Myra asked.
“I’m going to have to play it by ear. See what kind of mood she’s in. If he’s called again. That sort of thing,” Izzie explained.
“Sounds like a good approach,” Myra said. “Keep us posted. I’d like it if Mason was a stand-up guy, too.”
* * *
Maggie was able to keep up with the semi and still maintain a safe distance. When they finally came upon an intersection, Eileen looked in both directions; leaning out the passenger window, she had a clear shot at the right rear. She pulled the trigger. It made the popping sound of a can of soda being opened. And then there it was, a luminous orange spot the size of a quarter, with an embedded GPS tracking device placed right above the rear taillight.
“Nice shot!” Maggie whispered in awe.
“I do my best.” Eileen put the safety lock on the paint gun and put it back in the case. She pressed a button on the side of her watch. A very small light blinked back at her. “We got ’em.” She transferred the data to Avery, who would continue to track the truck once it reached the port area. In turn, Avery would send the information to the inspectors at the port who had been alerted to “possible fraudulent documents and misinformation of content of goods.” With this tip-off, the inspectors had license to check out a few other suspicious shipments while they were at it.
Maggie continued to follow the truck until they were approaching the security gates of the port. They had no documents, so they would not be granted access. “Is this where we say goodbye?” Maggie asked.
Eileen nodded toward the tractor trailer with the little orange button.
Maggie shrugged and sighed. “Better check in.” She pulled the pickup around to the side of a service road where they could remain relatively out of sight, but still see who came and went into the loading stations. It was a very long parade of trucks. Charles had told Maggie it would be several hours before the agents went into action.
There was a tremendous amount of maneuvering taking place, with containers, trailers, cabs, and cranes, all orchestrated by the central planners. They had to be sure any toxic chemicals were stored away from other cargo and organized by destination. The trailers would be assigned to containers where they were lifted by large cranes. Sail guides held the trailers as they were stacked like Legos into the containers. A hatch cover would be placed on the first layer of trailers, and the process began again until the containers were full.
Keeping the facility safe was top priority. The Caribbean was a playground for unscrupulous activity. Uniformed security personnel were on high alert for terrorists, human trafficking, drugs, or weapons smuggling. Dozens of cameras demanded vigilance and observation of any possible hacking into the entire system, which could cripple an already battered supply chain still recovering from a pandemic and war. The port was still short on staff and tensions were high. Everyone was on their one last nerve.
Alexis remarked on how different the ships in the industrial port were from cruise liners.
“When you are a passenger on a luxury liner you have no idea what goes on behind the scenes,” Maggie responded. “It’s like the expression, ‘You don’t want to know how the sausage is made. ’ ”
“Ew.” Alexis’s nostril twitched.
Maggie dug into her snack bag. She handed Alexis a protein bar and Eileen accepted a bag of trail mix. “I think we’re going to be here all night.”
Somewhere in the Midwest
Kathryn was racing against the clock to get to a popular truck stop that she knew some of her fellow travelers frequented, just outside of Toledo. It was almost midnight. Two more hours to go. Someone in the vicinity should be able to check if anyone was headed to Florence. She pulled into the big lot and parked her truck close to the back. She heard a voice calling out.
