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“The Chamber of Conscience,” she said, cringing as she spoke. “I’ve never been in there, and just from its name I’m glad I haven’t, but if you managed to get the tracker into one of those rooms, he’d be trapped. The only way in and out is through the round room in the middle.”
“At these parties you attended, was food and drink served up there?”
“No, a full bar was available and the guests helped themselves. It was the same in the dining room. No staff allowed, except Rosemary, his housekeeper, but I only saw her there once and a while. There was also a gong. When Sonny banged it, everyone returned to the round room and he’d make an announcement, or give out gifts. He also used it at midnight as the signal for everyone to leave, though sometimes I noticed a few select people would stay behind.”
“Who was responsible for making sure everything was ready?”
“Rosemary, she was in charge of all things domestic. She runs his home and travels with him everywhere.”
“She’s the woman the catering companies deal with,” Scott remarked.
“Of course she is, and she held the keys to the kingdom in Los Angeles. Sonny adores her. No-one messes with Rosemary.”
“Rosemary Garcia,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize her role was so important. Ewen MacDonald will be checking in soon. From what he’s told me, it’s almost like he’s under house arrest. Maybe he can get the money into one of those rooms in the VIP area.”
“Highly unlikely, but why do you need the money? Why can’t you just use the tracker?”
“The tracker won’t be the only piece of equipment inside those packets of bills. Everything Conchello says will be recorded, and sometimes, Elizabeth,” he said, pausing and lowering his voice, “I’m guided by instinct as much as I am by facts and logistics. I have a strong feeling Conchello needs to see the cash.”
“I totally understand,” she murmured, nodding her head. “Without that sixth sense…”
“And the more you listen to it, the stronger it becomes, but back to Rosemary. What do you know about her? Does she have a family?”
“No idea, but I doubt it. She lived at the mansion. Wherever Conchello is, you’ll find her.”
“I need to contact Frank and fill him in about this mezzanine. We must find a way to get the money and tracker into one of those rooms,” Scott said vehemently. “Thank you, Elizabeth, you’ve done it again.”
“Done what?”
“Wowed me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
With eyes at the shopping centers and marinas at Red Hook and Charlotte Amalie, Sonny Conchello couldn’t understand why there had been no sightings of Dan Miller. With his long black hair, thick mustache, and tall, lanky body, he was easy to pick out of a crowd. Elizabeth hadn’t been seen either, though that was understandable. She’d blend in with all the other pretty girls who graced the islands.
But Dan’s and Elizabeth’s whereabouts had been suddenly pushed aside. Sonny had just received yet another shocking and deeply disturbing piece of news. The man who had been shot when Dan Miller escaped was Jim Parker. The DEA chief had been on the payroll for years.
Pacing up and down the luxurious lounge, Sonny’s head swam with troublesome questions.
Why the hell was Jim Parker in the islands?
Why hadn’t he returned any calls?
Why had he been in the van being transported to the airport with Dan Miller?
More important, what secrets had he spilled?
Pouring himself a glass of expensive bourbon, Sonny took a drink, then headed to the servants’ quarters. Ewen MacDonald thought he was being nursed back to health by the kindly housekeeper, but Rosemary been there to pick up any tidbits of information he might let slip. So far there had been nothing of note.
As Sonny walked down the passage, the staff who happened to cross his path nodded deferentially and dropped their eyes. Reaching Ewen’s room, Sonny walked in unannounced. The injured man was on his back with his eyes closed.
“How are you?” Sonny asked, marching to the side of the bed and looming over him.
“Hi, boss,” Ewen replied, groaning as he sat up. “Better, I guess. Do you need me for something?”
“I will tomorrow night, but you’ll have to get some decent clothes. I’ll send someone to your apartment.”
“Tomorrow night?” Ewen repeated. “You mean you want me at the party?”
