Wilson — Bailey Island, ME
Perched above the marina store and restaurant, the loft’s three walls of windows offered a panoramic view of everything from the single highway onto the island, to the lobster boats in the bay and the Atlantic Ocean beyond the cove. We’ll be safe here, Wilson thought.
Emily went to the bathroom to take a shower, while Wilson sat down at the small round table overlooking the pier to call Hap Greene. He punched in the numbers on the cell phone he’d taken from the Range Rover. He’d tried Hap’s emergency number earlier, but there’d been no answer. This time he was relieved to hear Hap’s voice. “It’s Wilson.”
“Are you okay?” Hap asked.
“We’re fine. What about our families?”
“Everyone’s safe. Emily’s parents and her three sisters are under protective surveillance on Martha’s Vineyard. We flew her sisters and their families in last night.”
“What happened at the apartment?” Wilson asked.
“Tate and his partners had an informant inside the FBI. An agent named Switzer. He’s in custody, but there’s bound to be others.”
“Is Driggs okay?”
“Superficial wound to the side of his head, but he’s fine.”
“What about Tate and the others?”
“Kamin blew himself to pieces with plastic explosive in his Manhattan apartment. Malouf and Tennyson are in custody,” Hap said, pausing a moment. “Tate and Swatling have disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” Wilson said loud enough for Emily to hear him from the bathroom.
“Unfortunately,” Hap said quietly.
“Things are under control, right?”
“We weren’t in charge there, but we are here.”
“Now what?”
“Arrests of the CEOs and their facilitators of vice have begun and will continue throughout the day, as fast as the federal judges can issue warrants. Everything’s happening a day earlier than planned. The FBI’s trying to keep a lid on the press until tomorrow morning.”
Suddenly, Wilson realized that Hap hadn’t asked him where he was. Then it dawned on him. “You’re tracking us, aren’t you?”
“Yes. You’re somewhere on the coast, northeast of Portland, Maine. We’ve been tracking the Range Rover. I have three of my people on their way to you right now. They should be there in an hour.”
There was silence on Wilson’s end as alternate reactions dashed through his mind. Then he asked, “What makes you think Tate hasn’t compromised one of your guys? Or that the men you sent aren’t being tracked?”
“They’re the best I have,” Hap said.
“Not good enough, Hap. We won’t be here when they arrive. Just make sure my family’s safe. Tell Kohl and Johns the same thing.”
“Wilson…”
Wilson pushed the end button before Hap could finish.
“You remember Boothbay Harbor, don’t you?” Wilson asked as he entered the bathroom. They’d hung out there over a long weekend during their college days.
“How could I forget?” Emily said, smiling playfully as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her.
It was great to see her smiling and with only a towel around her, but they didn’t have much time. “Believe me, I wish we could take advantage of this moment, but the FBI’s been compromised. And they’re tracking the Range Rover.”
“Who’s tracking it?” Emily asked, her eyes suddenly on fire.
“Hap is, but the FBI knows everything he’s doing. He has three men on their way to protect us. But given the circumstances, I don’t think it’s in our best interest to stay around waiting for them.”
“I agree,” Emily said.
“I’m going to drive the Range Rover to Boothbay Harbor. The Marina has a lobster boat. Hopefully it’s available. If not, I’ll pay double a day’s catch to one of these guys,” Wilson said, pointing to the hubbub on the pier. “Can you take the boat to Boothbay and pick me up at the main pier downtown?”
“Of course. Will the emergency tires get you there?” Emily asked, knowing that the tires were full of bullet holes.
“The vehicle computer says we’ve got forty miles left. That’ll do.”
“Why don’t we drive together and rent a boat there?” Emily asked as she quickly dressed.
“As much as I hate the idea of being separated from you again, getting a boat in Boothbay could take time we don’t have. This way, I’ll ditch the Range Rover in town and find cover somewhere near the main pier. You can drop anchor offshore until you see me. Then we can get lost anywhere,” Wilson said insistently. He wasn’t going to put her in harm’s way again.
“I’m not crazy about you driving to Boothbay by yourself,” she said with a frown, running her fingers through her wet hair.
“I don’t think we have a choice. We’ll only be safe once we get rid of the Range Rover,” he said, putting his arm around her and walking to the door. “This way, you won’t be put in harm’s way again, and they won’t try to stop me until I’ve reconnected with you. It’s smart and safe.”
Downstairs in the marina store Jaclyn, Mo’s store manager, told Wilson that their lobster boat was in the dock shop getting an overhaul. The only charter boat available was a sixty-foot sailing yacht, which would be too much for Emily to handle by herself. Wilson tried to stay calm as he asked if she knew of any other boats for rent. She gave him the names of two retired lobstermen who lived at the end of the cove but warned, “No guarantees this time of year.”
“Thanks, maybe I’ll give them a try,” Wilson said casually. No use drawing any undue attention, he thought.
“Wanna boat fur hire?” asked a large red-faced man as Wilson and Emily walked out of the store. “Couldn’t help overhearin’.”
“Yes,” Wilson said cautiously.
“Where you wanna go?”
“The lighthouses at Cape Elizabeth.”
“Name’s Paddie,” he said sticking out his hand, “I can take you.”
Shaking his hand, Wilson began slowly, “We sort of wanted to get out on our own. You know, just me and my wife.”
“Got experience?”
“She grew up on Martha’s Vineyard boating and sailing since she was five. I worked here as a lobsterman’s apprentice, and my family has an eighty footer and a twenty footer on Nantucket,” Wilson said, probably a little too anxiously.
The man squinted at Wilson and Emily, his eyes nearly lost in his weather-beaten face. “Costs more for goin’ alone.”
“How much?”
Once again, Paddie looked them up and down.
They both tried to appear as calm and casual as they could.
“$300 for half day.”
“Can we go right away?”
“Just gassed her up.”
“Great. My wife is going to meet me in the next cove. I have to pick up a few things.”
“I need some collateral.”
“Uh. Okay. What did you have in mind?”
“Car keys, driver’s license, somethin’ of value.”
Wilson pulled out his driver’s license and his father’s Mercedes keys. He gave them to Paddie with $360 in cash. “Tip’s included,” he said.
Paddie examined Wilson’s driver’s license and gave it back. “I’ll keep the keys. Meet you on the boat. She’s the yellow and green one at the end of the pier.”
Wilson and Emily kissed each other good-bye, with more than a little apprehension, before Wilson left for the Range Rover and Emily walked to the end of the pier.
As Emily was listening to Paddie’s instructions, Wilson was already speeding off the island in the bullet-marked Range Rover. Avoiding attention from the State Police was going to be a challenge.
Ten minutes later, Emily cruised north out of Mackerel Cove toward Boothbay Harbor, knowing she’d make it to the harbor well before Wilson. But she wasn’t happy that Wilson was taking all the risk, especially in a bullet-marked SUV in broad daylight. Little did she know what was in store for both of them.