Dragon Moon Read online

  I want to reach across the desk and grab Virgil Claypool, beat him until he tells me everything he knows about Derek’s trip to Miami. Then I want to beat him again for being so blasé about the treatment Henri must be receiving.

  Chloe surprises me by standing up. “I appreciate your time, Virgil.” She rolls up the faxes. “With your permission, I’ll bring these to Pa.”

  The Jamaican nods.

  “We need to leave now to make it home by dark,” Chloe says.

  “We’re leaving?”

  My bride ignores me. “I’m sure Pa will be just as excited as you are about the news.”

  Virgil Claypool grins. “I know how much Charles has been worried about money. Without the gold he sent me five years ago, I doubt we’d have been able to keep the government away from Morgan’s Hole. Tell him, once the merger’s done, we’ll have more than enough assets to protect his home for as long as any of us can imagine.”

  As soon as we leave the building, I say, “Why the hell did we leave? We could have forced him to tell us everything. . . .”

  Chloe whirls around, faces me, “And then what? Kill him and his receptionist?”

  “Why not? How could anyone trace their deaths to us? No one knows us here. Hell, we’ll probably be gone from this island long before the police even start investigating. And killing Virgil would certainly stop any possibility of a merger.”

  “And it would serve as a warning to Derek that something has gone wrong here. This way there’s a decent chance no one in Miami will know we’re coming. Besides,” she says, frowning, her eyes turning moist, “my family needs Claypool and Sons.”

  “My son needs me.”

  “Damn it!” Chloe stamps one foot. “I’m going to do everything I can to bring us all together. I’ve chosen you, Peter. I’ll love you. If necessary, I’ll die for you. But I have no wish to destroy my parents and my brothers. No matter how they’ve wronged you — they’re still my family. Didn’t you hear what Claypool said?”

  “About the money?”

  “That’s why they turned on you. They needed your money to survive.”

  “If they had asked, I would have helped them. I have more than enough.”

  Chloe shakes her head. “Charles Blood never asks for anything. The only thing he knows is to take what he needs.”

  “Well, he can’t have my son or my wealth.”

  “No, of course not. But, Peter” — my bride stares into my eyes and I want to take her in my arms and kiss the hurt away from her face — “they gave birth to me. They raised me. Please don’t do anything to make me sorry I married you.”

  “Once this is over,” I say, “if this gets over, we’ll see what we can do.”

  23

  At the car, Chloe hands me Derek’s faxes and gets in on the driver’s side. “I could drive if you want,” I say.

  She shakes her head, motions for me to sit on the passenger’s side. Having seen how intense Jamaican traffic can get, I’m just as glad to let her cope with it. Chloe’s temperament seems far better suited for it than mine.

  We drive out of Kingston, neither of us speaking. Chloe, lost in her thoughts and concentrating on maneuvering the Land Rover through traffic, seems not to notice me studying her, admiring her.

  She surprised me today. My fault really. I’ve thought of her for years as the bright, precocious thirteen-year-old I met when I wed Elizabeth. I’d always assumed she’d retain her enthusiasm for human things, her delight in gathering new experiences, but I never considered how she would be grown up, never wondered about the other aspects of her personality.

  I hadn’t expected her to take charge at Claypool’s. I’ve seen now some of what lies beneath her sweet exterior and I find myself as attracted to her strength as I am to the rest of her.

  Chloe finally glances toward me, catches me staring. “What?” she says.

  “Just thinking that I love you.”

  “Good, you should.”

  Traffic thins a bit as we climb up into the mountains. The land becomes more rural, dotted with small farms. We pass the occasional dilapidated store and dozens of wandering goats and chickens. I turn to my bride and say, “What do you make of what Claypool said?”

  “Read the faxes first,” Chloe says, returns her attention to the road and whatever thoughts she might have.

  I unroll the papers, smooth them on my lap and arrange them in chronological order. All are typed on LaMar stationary, the first fax dated June 12th, the last July 20th. I think back, exhale a large breath. When Chloe and I met it was still May. I can’t believe so much time has passed since then.

  6/12

  Pa —

  All is well. I’m typing and faxing this myself — prying eyes and all, you understand.

  We arrived here without incident and I hired a cab to take the boy and me to LaMar Associates. There my reception was warm, particularly from one of Ian Tindall’s associates, Rita Santiago (Peter’s spy, I think) and Arturo Gomez, the company’s president.

  Tindall, the fellow who comanages with Gomez, barely gave me the time of day.

  Since I was anxious to get to the house, I didn’t dither around the office very much learning about the business. Gomez called his daughter to come get us and she picked us up in DelaSangre’s boat. She gave me an odd look when I refused her offer to let me take the wheel. But I’m glad I didn’t take it.

  I spent the whole time out watching her and trying to remember everything she did. Coming into the channel by the island looked especially difficult, but I’m proud to say I memorized all the twists and turns it requires.

  Gomez’s daughter gave me an even odder look when I didn’t help her tie the boat off at the dock, but I watched her do it and memorized that too.

  Otherwise, all went well on the island. The house is smaller than ours but, Pa, they have everything! Plumbing, power generators, water pumps, lights, air-conditioning, TV. Once we have enough money, we should do the same at Morgan’s Hole.

  I searched every room from the top to the bottom of the house and found no trace of the merchandise you asked me to find. But I have to tell you, from the look of LaMar Associates, we hit the bloody jackpot anyway.

  I told Gomez to arrange for a meeting in a week to review everything.

  I’ll fax you again after that.

  Derek

  6/24

  Pa —

  Things are mostly smashing. We had our meeting the other day and there’s more money here than any of us imagined. I told them about your idea to move control to Claypool and Sons in Jamaica. Gomez and his daughter were hostile to the move, but I think they’ll do whatever I say. Especially because Rita pointed out the tax advantages of moving the corporation offshore.

  Tindall seemed impressed with the savings. He said it might work.

  The boy is a bloody pain. I had him with me at the meeting. He kept quiet for most of the time but towards the end, he went over and whispered to Rita. She whispered what he said to me — Don’t listen to him. He’s not my papa — so I slapped the boy in the face and sent him out of the room. Gomez and his daughter gave me odd looks again.

  I’ve also had a bloody hard time with DelaSangre’s boat, the Grady White. I don’t know why people like dashing around on the water in those blasted things.

  Anyway, I thought I’d already observed and memorized enough to look like an old salt to anyone. For Christ’s sake, I even practiced tying off the bloody boat’s lines. But the channel going to the island is deucedly hard. I’m afraid to say the wind was up the other morning and somehow when I was going out the channel to leave the island, I was careless and let a wave knock me off course a tad. Just like that I hit a rock and gouged a huge gash in the hull and the damned thing sank!

  I could tell Gomez’s daughter thought it strange when she came out to rescue us. Still, she didn’t say anything, but just took me to shore and arranged for a rental boat.

  They say it will be about a month until the Grady White’s hull i
s repaired and new motors are installed but, honestly, I could care less. The rental’s fine with me. Of course, I’m taking much more care with the bloody channel now.

  Pa, I’ve searched the whole island now and the house again and I still haven’t found that room you want to know about.

  But in a few weeks it won’t matter. Ian Tindall and Rita are now in direct communication with Claypool. They tell me everything’s going along well.

  I can’t wait to hear what you say when you see how huge their assets are.

  Derek

  7/20

  Pa —

  Rita told me today that everything’s finished. All that remains is for her and Tindall to prepare the final paperwork and deliver it to Claypool’s. Ian is supposed to call Virgil soon to set up the final meeting.

  I’m afraid you’ll have to attend that one. Ian will go over to represent LaMar and me, but I think it best I stay here and watch our interests.

  Gomez and his daughter have impressed me as very unreliable, possibly dangerous. They constantly ask me about the boy’s welfare and seem shocked that I no longer bring Henri to the mainland. But I can’t trust him to be quiet or to behave. The whelp even bit me the other day! You should have heard how he wailed when I beat him for that. So now I simply lock him up whenever I leave the island or need some peace and quiet.

  Gomez’s daughter even had the effrontery to come out to the island by herself and ask to see the boy. I sent her packing. I have it in my mind to dismiss her tomorrow.

  Her father is quite another matter. I’ve received some advice at the office — on how to handle getting rid of him — but from what I gather, the man has the capability to strike back. I’m not quite sure the timing’s right yet to take him on.

  In the meantime I must say, I’m having a smashing time. The hunting is easy — mostly I go out on the water and search for stray boats far out to sea. And Rita’s arranged a permanent suite for me at the Grove House Hotel, quite swank you know, quite elegant, only a short walk from the office. I stay there at least two or three nights a week. I’d stay more if it weren’t for the boy.

  I’m afraid I’m becoming too spoiled for Morgan’s Hole. Once all this is over, I’d think I’d like to stay here in Miami, run this end of things — that is if you agree and if I can send Henri back to live with you and Mum.

  I’ve found some good company here and until I find a mate of my own, I think this can be as good as it can get.

  I have searched again, everywhere I can think of for the other things you want me to find. If they’re anywhere on the island, they’re hidden too well for me.

  Please arrange to call me from Claypool’s once the deal is done. I’d love to hear how you feel about it.

  Derek

  Shaking my head, I fold the faxes, fold them again as if neatly reducing their size will somehow make the problem go away. How could I leave Henri so undefended? How abandoned he must feel. I fold the papers again. How I look forward to confronting Derek. The papers have become compact and stiff, and still, I fold them again.

  “I have to call Miami,” I say.

  “We’ll be in Ocho Rios in an hour. We can find a phone then,” Chloe says.

  “I can’t stand what your brother says he’s done to Henri. The boy’s just five years old!”

  “He never did understand children. All of us have felt his wrath at one time or another,” Chloe says. “At least he hasn’t done any permanent harm to Henri.”

  “It’s still not acceptable.”

  “Of course not. I expect you’ll show him so.”

  I will indeed, I think; then the effrontery of the rest of it overwhelms me. “Can you believe they’re trying to steal everything?”

  Chloe nods. “I believe it. But we’re going to find a way to stop them.”

  “Damned right we are. First thing, we have to get to Miami, soon.”

  “With what?” Chloe says. “We have no papers, no ID. How much money do you have left?”

  I pull out the cash wadded in my pocket, count it. “Forty-three dollars, twenty-five cents.”

  My bride laughs. “That will fill the gas tank again and pay for some prepaid phone cards, but then what?”

  “All you have to do is get me to Montego Bay and I’ll take you home in luxury.” I grin at the confusion evident on my bride’s face but only say, “Trust me.”

  Maxim’s General Store on the outskirts of Ocho Rios offers everything we need. Chloe fills the car’s fuel tank at their pumps while I go inside the brightly painted store and buy phone cards. Afterwards, it takes me a few minutes to find the pay phones, but I’m glad to see they’re located in the back of the store, in a quiet, deserted alcove near the storeroom.

  Inserting my card, I dial LaMar Associates. Sarah picks up on the third ring, offers the standard greeting. I make my voice higher, a little harsh. “Arturo Gomez please.”

  “Sorry, sir, he isn’t in. Can I get anyone else for you?”

  “When is he due back?” I say.

  “I can’t say, sir.”

  “Is Claudia available?”

  “Ms. Gomez no longer works here,” Sarah says, her voice turning brittle. “Perhaps if you could tell me your name and the purpose of your call, I can find someone else to help you.”

  “I’ll just call back later for Arturo.”

  “Sir, he won’t be here. He’s out for an indefinite period. Either Mr. Tindall or Ms. Santiago can explain — if you’d like to speak to one of them.”

  “Put me through to Rita.”

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  I try to think up a name, blurt out the one Chloe made up. “John Ames.”

  Rita doesn’t pick up for almost five minutes. When she does answer, her voice is brisk and impersonal. “Yes,” she says, “What’s this about?”

  Using my own voice, I say, “Rita . . .”

  Her tone goes soft. “Peter dear,” she breathes into the phone. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until later. . . .”

  Unprepared for the intimate tone of her voice, I slam the phone into the receiver. Rita had never been that familiar with me. She could only have thought she was speaking with the other Peter.

  I dial Arturo’s cellphone again and once more get no answer. Then I dial Claudia’s.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “Claudia, it’s me, Peter.”

  “So?” Her voice turns guarded, sounds careful to me.

  “I’m concerned about your dad.”

  “Me too,” she says. “Though I didn’t think you’d care.”

  “Of course, I do.”

  She says nothing.

  “Claudia listen,” I say. “I need your help.”

  Claudia spits her words out. “You forget. I don’t work for you anymore. Ask your flunkies, Rita or Tindall, to help you. I have more important concerns.” She disconnects her phone.

  I slam the receiver down. No Gomez has ever spoken to me like that. I doubt any Gomez has ever used such a tone with any DelaSangre. None would ever dare. I’m tempted to think of Claudia — of all of them — as traitors. But as much as I would have liked them to see through Derek’s façade, I know in reality, to them, Derek is me.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my anger away. Of course, Rita would welcome his advances — just as much as she would have mine. Why wouldn’t Arturo and Ian follow his orders — no matter how illogical — without much resistance? If I told Gomez to fire his daughter, the man would, no matter how much it pained him. Why should I expect him to disobey Derek’s?

  I pick up the phone, put it down again, take another deep breath before I dial Claudia’s number once more.

  Claudia answers on the first ring this time. “Leave me alone,” she says before I can blurt out one word.

  “Claudia, wait. Don’t hang up. Let me explain. It’s not the way you think it is!” I say.

  “What am I confused about?” she says. “You fired me. My father was almost killed.”

  “
Arturo? What do you mean? What happened?”

  Claudia laughs into the phone. “You’re pathetic. You’re one of the ones that found him.”

  I shake my head. I wish I were there, face-to-face with her, so she could read my expressions. “Claudia, you have to listen to me. . . .”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “This is going to sound strange. The Peter you’re talking about isn’t me. I’m still in Jamaica.”

  “Bullshit! I just saw you out on the bay in your crummy rental boat, less than an hour ago.”

  “That wasn’t me,” I say, trying to think of a way to convince her, looking around me for anything I might be able to use. To my relief, the pay phone still has its number printed on it, faint but readable, even showing the Jamaican area code, 876. “I can prove it! Call me back, here in Jamaica.” I read off the number to her.

  “How do I know this isn’t something you and Ian arranged?” Claudia says.

  “Why would I bother? If I am the Peter you think I am, what reason would I have for pursuing you? You’re already out and it appears so’s Arturo. Take the number. Check the area code out with an operator if you need to. Just call me back.”

  For the first time Claudia’s voice sounds closer to the way I’m used to hearing it. “Give me the number again, Peter. I’ll check it out and call you back in a few minutes.”

  Minutes pass.

  I sit. I stand. I drum my fingers on the top of the pay phone. Chloe walks to the back, smiles, says, “There you are,” and comes over and hugs me.

  It’s the first time she’s been in physical contact with me since we left for Kingston and I realize I’ve missed her touch. Elizabeth had rarely touched me except during sex, but Chloe, to my delight, seems much more physical, always resting a hand on me or standing close enough to brush against me. I smile, hug her back, tell her all I’ve learned.

  The phone remains silent.

  “I need her to believe me,” I say to my bride. “She’s the only one I think might be willing to help us. I can’t be sure of any of the others. And poor Arturo — Ineed to know what happened to him, how badly he’s hurt.”