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“You have staff?” I ask.
Wayne chuckles. “Sure do. A boat this big, you gotta. Welcome aboard.”
He holds out a hand for me, and I step from the dock, across the water gap, onto the yacht, because she’s not just a boat, this is a yacht.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Maybe later.”
“Well, let’s sit. It’s gonna take a bit for Juan to get us set to depart.” He sits on the white leather and crosses one ankle over a knee. I sit on the opposite end and rest my tote on the cushion beside me. “What’s with the criminal profile on Larry? You don’t think he just got involved with some group who found a good ransom prospect?”
“No, that doesn’t fit. It never has. They were too slow to demand ransom.” It’s one piece of the puzzle that has always bothered me. You could conclude the refusal to engage in negotiation was due to inexperience or a dominant psychology, but waiting until we involved the FBI and went full-frontal to engage are curious elements of this case. I could share the current theories that it’s all related to an illegal gun transaction gone bad, but sharing that with a Sullivan Arms executive would be the height of poor judgement. If the FBI or the ATF wants Wayne to know, they’ll meet with him and share their theories.
Wayne’s fingers top the back of the sofa leather. His sunglasses shield his eyes, but he’s frowning.
“Do you go fishing?”
“What?” He lowers his glasses on the bridge of his nose. The noise from the engines might be making it difficult to hear me.
“Is this boat for fishing?” I don’t see any fishing gear, but a boat this enormous has plenty of storage space.
“Nah. She’s a cruiser. She can cross the Atlantic. Or the Pacific. Whatever you wish.” He scratches his face. He’s continually touching his face, now that I think about it. My dad once changed aftershave brands and couldn’t stop scratching his jaw. Drove me nuts until I figured it out.
“Well, I appreciate you taking me out. It’s a nice day for it.”
“Oh, yeah. Least I could do. Jack’s pretty worried about you, but you know, he’s not feeling like he can get away to check on you himself.”
“So you offered to do it?” Wayne really does do a lot for Jack. I hope Jack appreciates him.
“Eh, well, had to get my boat. You called.” Again, he scratches his jaw and covers his mouth with his hand afterward. It’s brief, but repeated. And now I’m rubbing my throat as I study him.
“Has Jack mentioned how Sophia is doing?” Since he seems to have talked to Jack more than I have, I’m curious what he’s learned.
“Says she’s doing good. Can’t remember much of anything. I think that might help her, ya know?”
I understand his point. Lack of memory could be a blessing. “Do you talk to Jack regularly?”
“About as much as I can, you know, given his focus is on his daughter. And that’ll be the case for quite a while. At least a year, I’d say.”
Juan crosses to the far side of the boat without addressing either of us.
“A year? Are the therapists thinking she’ll need that long?” She’ll be so behind in school.
“Not sure about all that. But, you know, he took about a year off after Cassandra. Got her good and settled. When he’s working, he’s all work. It’s hard for him to balance being present at home and work.” He nods and slips his nail between his teeth.
Cassandra blamed an obsession with the company as the reason their marriage had come apart.
“You know, Cassandra said the same thing. That when Jacks works, he’s all work.”
“It’s true,” he says with a deep nod. “It’s no wonder their marriage fell apart.”
The thing is, those two may have grown apart, but at her funeral, no one doubted Jack’s love for her. Her death broke him. To my knowledge, she never dated after their divorce either. She claimed her freedom, but she never seemed ready to truly move on. But I also didn’t know about the affair. She never opened up to me. Maybe it was due to our age difference. Maybe we weren’t as close as I wanted to believe.
“Are you thinking all of this,” he waves his hand around, “has something to do with Cassie?”
