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“Beth.”
“Okay, Beth. She must have it with her. She’ll be somewhere on that island. Do you want me to—”
“What’s your room number?” Sonny snapped, cutting him off.
“207.”
“Stay exactly where you are until I knock on your door.”
Sonny heard Dan’s quick intake of breath.
The detective was worried.
He had reason to be.
“Okay, boss, whatever you say,” Dan said earnestly.
Ending the conversation with a grunt, Sonny called David Clark. He lived at the encampment, ran the day to day activities, and was supervising the move.
“Hello?”
“David, get over to Dan Miller’s room at the Lost Resort Hotel in St. Thomas.”
“But, uh, I’m on the new island and the storm is—”
“Fuck the storm,” Sonny snapped, cutting him off as the SUV drove up the private road to his majestic estate. “Get to his hotel and make sure that asshole doesn’t go anywhere.”
Sitting in front of the large computer, Scott and Elizabeth had watched Dan Miller anxiously pace as he’d spoken to Sonny Conchello. Though they couldn’t hear Conchello’s side of the conversation, they didn’t need to. It was obvious Dan had been questioned about the missing cash, and with no idea the wad of bills with the tracker was in his room, Dan had fallen into Scott’s trap.
“Look at him, he’s freaking out,” Elizabeth remarked as Dan threw his phone on the bed and poured himself a glass of whiskey.
“He knows he’s in deep shit,” Scott said solemnly. “He just doesn’t know why.”
“I wish Jim Parker was in deep shit with him,” she muttered. “How will we ever expose him?”
“I’ve been giving that some thought. We need to get him out of Los Angeles.”
“What we need is to take pictures of him with Conchello, preferably taking a shitload of money,” Elizabeth interjected. “Hard evidence. We’re nowhere without it.”
An idea coming to mind, Scott rose to his feet, walked across to the window, and studied the conditions.
He’d sailed through worse.
Much worse.
“I know how to get Jim down here,” he suddenly declared, turning around to face her, “but it means going back to St. Thomas.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“Scott, you can’t! There’s a storm out there and it’s getting stronger every minute.”
“Now is the only chance I’ll get, and I can kill two birds with one stone.”
“I hate that expression.”
“Be that as it may,” Scott said patiently, “not only will I get Jim down here, but I’ll come back on Jack’s yacht and use the dock on the other side of the island. Conchello’s boys will think we’ve left.”
