Now, however, DeMaio wasn’t so sure. He seemed to be living in his own personal purgatory. Granted, it was one any normal person would give their eyeteeth to reside in. But for a man used to flitting around the world at his leisure, the inability to move was stifling.
The Halifax papers kept up a steady drumbeat of reports about the sinking of the rig, the exploitation of young girls, and always, always, the traumas of Kitty Wells. It would be ironic if it weren’t so painful. It was because of him that Kitty Wells had achieved national fame, maybe international. Her star rose as his own languished in his luxurious gulag. That blasted woman had killed five of his men, with many more lost at sea, destroyed his floating brothel, killed off his potential investors, and taken his reputation and freedom. He would never have believed such an outcome possible from such a tiny slip of a woman.
His days were filled with brooding and visions of revenge. To add insult to injury, he had no access to the beautiful young women he was used to having at his beck and call. For nearly a decade, he had indulged his sexual desires at whim. Hundreds of beautiful women had been forced to submit to him. His sexual frustration after just three weeks of celibacy was nearing explosive levels. He couldn’t conceive how he would ever survive such abstinence if he went to prison. The very idea horrified him. The possibility of sex with men, possibly forced, disgusted him.
Preston refused to bring girls to the retreat. It was too great a risk with the entire world looking for DeMaio. Global’s board was also under constant scrutiny. Women had to go on hold for the time being.
It was a rare example of the chairman standing up to his guest. For the members of the board feared DeMaio. The man held a knife at all of their throats. Each of them was compromised by a carefully constructed web of financial ties and illegalities. There was no doubt the man’s reach could extend even beyond the grave, should anyone be so foolish as to try to dispose of him, much less turn him in.
DeMaio paced about his glass cage. His anger at being effectively imprisoned here by one of his own conquests drove him to distraction. Finally, he stopped and stared out to sea.
Enough.
It was time to fight back. Already he had dispensed with Lloyd, the imbecile who had kidnapped Kitty Wells to begin with. Though he’d enjoyed the woman, it was now clear that the selection of such a high-profile victim had been the cause of his downfall. His men had been slower to get rid of Madame Liu, who was now under police protection and, no doubt, interrogation. He wasn’t worried about that. Liu had no idea how to find him.
With access to his communications center and to his foreign bank accounts, his reach was still considerable. His fury at Wells was mixed up with a sea of emotions; sheer outrage that she had gotten the better of him combined with fantasies of their sex together, now that he had no other outlet. When the reporter’s availability to him had been assured, he’d quickly tired of her, as he did with all women. But now, he thought of her incessantly, desired her even as he fantasized about the ways he would cause her to suffer.
He sat in front of his computer and worked the keys. Preston had tried to dissuade him even from this, for computer activity could be traced, even the most secure of systems. No matter. Nothing would keep him away from Kitty Wells.
64
L
ONNIE CALLED GARRETT AN HOUR
after his conversation with Liotino.
“Got a probable location on DeMaio,” he said. “Highly likely. And Garrett, he’s in Canada.”
“No way!” said Garrett. “He really must be crazy. How sure are you?”
“Had a little talk with your buddy, Lou Liotino.”
“Damn. There goes another source. I knew it was a mistake to talk to him with you in tow. Lou’s not exactly the bravest lion in the pride. Word gets around you work with me, it’s going to stifle my reputation on the street. I hope you didn’t kill him, at least.”
“Just a few coaxing words.”
“I’ll bet.”
“We need to move, Garrett. No telling how long he’ll stick around. You up for another kayak trip?”
“You can’t be serious. Where is he?”
“Island three miles offshore, an hour from Halifax. Belongs to Global’s chairman of the board, a man named Wade Preston.”
Garrett thought quickly. “Give me twelve hours to set something up.”
“Twelve hours could be more time than we have, Gar.”
“Look, I’m going to light a fire under some people. We can’t go in there with just the two of us. I want Tom and the Coast Guard in on this. Nichols too. Maybe he can get the Navy on board. I’ll inform Tuttle as well. You don’t know what sort of setup they have on that island. They may have a lot of security. Remember, Global’s got more money than God.”
Lonnie grumbled some more but finally agreed and left to make his own arrangements.
It only took six hours to line up the cavalry. Tom and Nichols were both excited to hear that DeMaio might actually be within reach. Garrett knew Lonnie would double-check Kitty’s protection before the shit hit the fan. But he’d been thinking that Sarah might also need protection. She’d been Kitty’s comrade in arms, after all, and if DeMaio really was feeling vindictive and couldn’t get to Kitty, he might turn his attention elsewhere. Lila and Ayesha were away for several days attending a special program for girls set up by Protective Services. Sarah was alone in the house. Garrett called Tuttle and asked for Alvin to be sent down to stay with Sarah while the operation was on. Selling it to Sarah would be another matter, but there was no time. He’d leave that to his former partner.
Ten minutes after his third call to Nichols setting up the operation, his phone rang. It was Grace.
“I’m going with you,” she said.
He didn’t hesitate. “All right. You’ve earned it. This whole thing’s moving quickly. Nichols is sending a chopper to pick us up in an hour.”
He could tell she was excited. Nichols must have had a lot of confidence in her to tell her about the operation so quickly.
“You really think he’s going to be there, Garrett?”
“No telling. Lon usually gets reliable information. If there hasn’t been a leak somewhere, I’d bet on it.”
An hour later, a chopper set down next to the wharf in front of Roland’s house. The neighbors stared out their windows in disbelief as a woman, a man, and a giant scrambled on board, then rose quickly into the late afternoon sky. Garrett caught a brief glimpse of Leo and Ingrid standing on their deck, holding on to one another and staring somberly at the aircraft.
Grace looked down on her friends and sighed. “They’re scared out of their minds for me. I always knew a day would come when I’d have to tell them what I do.”
“Take them a while to get used to it,” said Garrett. “But they will.”
Lonnie sat next to them in a rumble seat. He looked like some sort of toy action figure, belted in and ready for a commando raid. He bristled with small arms and carried an Uzi as well. For all his years working at the very edge of the legal system, the big man somehow managed to have permits for a wide variety of weapons. Garrett knew he managed this via his extensive military and political contacts.
“What’s the plan?” Lonnie asked.
Garrett pointed out the small window next to him. Lonnie and Grace leaned over and looked out. Below on the ocean surface were two Canadian destroyers, their white foam trails a sign of how fast they were moving.
“Holy shitkickers!” said Grace. “That’s awesome.”
“The plan,” said Garrett, “is dead simple. We land and
persuade
DeMaio to surrender.”
“Personally,” Lonnie said, “I hope he resists. Be nice to have him permanently out of Kitty’s hair. Life in prison would be too good for that asshole.”
“Try to keep things in perspective, Lon,” said Garrett. “It won’t do Kitty any good if you get yourself put away for unnecessary use of force. Just let things play out, okay?”
Lonnie looked unconvinced. It was a look that worried Garrett, one that suggested the big man just might have plans of his own.
The expansive estate appeared on the horizon thirty minutes later. It was an elongated island with vast, rocky beaches. One end rose to a bluff that overlooked the sea. Here were rambling buildings, manicured lawns, and a sparkling blue pool. Next to a tennis court was a helipad. Their pilot had been in constant communication with the destroyers, which now floated offshore. Garrett could see two amphibious landing craft, bristling with armed men, churning toward the dock. It was going to be an exciting dinner hour for Wade Preston and company.
The chopper landed and cut its engines at the same time the men from the landing craft swarmed up to the house and took up positions encircling the main building, their commander barking orders. Nichols and Tuttle were there as well. No way was either man going to miss out on the most important arrest in Nova Scotia history. Tuttle probably expected to ride this straight into the Commissioner’s office.
As Lonnie, Garrett, and Grace approached, a number of people came out of the building to stare at the uproar. Most appeared to be maids or groundskeepers.
Lonnie led the way onto the rambling deck and closed immediately on the bewildered people clustered there, staring numbly at the guns pointed in their direction. Then Wade Preston came out. He had both hands in the air.
“I’ll come peaceable, boys,” he said, a grin on his face. “Always wanted to say that.”
Lonnie went up to him with a look that would have sent Genghis Khan crawling under his bed. Preston cringed and his demeanor changed instantly. His upraised hands turned suddenly to palms forward as if expecting Lonnie to charge straight into him.
“No trouble,” he said. “What is it you want?”
Nichols came forward, looking around at the disposition of his men. He had on a dark blue jumpsuit and protective vest and carried a pistol in one hand. His ponytail bobbed as he looked back and forth. He stopped next to Lonnie and stared at Preston.
“We have a warrant for the arrest of one Anthony DeMaio. Present him at once or we’ll search the premises.” He leaned in to Preston and said, “We know he’s here, so don’t try to con me, sir. You and the rest of your board members are on thin ice already. Harboring a fugitive makes you all accessories here.”
Preston stared back, eyes wide, then seemed to crumble. “Had to happen sooner or later,” he said. “The man’s a walking nightmare. I always knew he’d bring this company down and probably all of us with it. We were all being blackmailed. It couldn’t go on….” He shook his head.
“Where is he?” Lonnie asked sharply.
Preston looked unhappily at the giant in front of him. Not someone you wanted to deliver bad news to.
“He’s gone,” he said simply.
Everyone stared blankly at him. Garrett was the first to speak. “Gone where?”
“One of the grounds people just told me. It was an hour before you got here. He took off in one of our cutters.”
“Alone?” Garrett asked.
“Yes. No one here would have gone with him. Everyone hates the man, even the cooks and maids.”
“What direction did he go?”
“He was headed southwest toward Halifax, but of course he could have changed course any time, or even landed. We have a private boat landing a few miles up the coast where we keep several vehicles. That might have been his destination.”
“All right. He’s on his own now,” said Nichols. He immediately turned to one of the armed men, a communications specialist, and told him to inform the ships to proceed to Halifax, searching every bay and landing for a small cutter and boarding any vessels that looked suspicious. He also told them to check the landing where Preston kept his cars.
Lonnie pulled Garrett and Grace aside. “Someone tipped him off. He’s going after Kitty. I’d bet the farm on it. It’s all falling apart for him and he wants his revenge before he either gives himself up or goes down shooting. I’ve got to call and warn her and get my men fully alerted.”
“No argument from me,” said Garrett. “I want to check on Sarah too. She could also be a target, though I got Alvin sent down to be with her.”
“The midget cop?” asked Lonnie.
Garrett grimaced. “Don’t say that in front of him. He’d take a pop even at you.”
Grace was listening to them. A strange look crossed her face. “What’s this about a midget cop?” she asked.
“Alvin used to be my partner,” said Garrett. “He was pretty short for a Mountie and he was sensitive about it.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“What?”
“The cop I ran into a couple of times during my drug runs? Only distinctive thing about him was his size. He was very short. And I heard at least one of the men say he was sensitive about it.”
Garrett’s eyes went wide. “You don’t think …”
She just nodded. “I bet he’s the one, Garrett.”
65
A
LVIN TURNED INTO SARAH’S DRIVEWAY,
parked the car, and stepped out onto the lupine-lined walkway. Across the road, the wharf was being pounded as whitecaps picked up by a stiff breeze barreled down the length of the bay. He’d never met Sarah and would have to rely on the RCMP cruiser and her faith in the uniform to put her at ease.
“Are you Sarah Pye?” he asked when she answered the door. She looked down on him, as many women did.
“Yes. Can I help you, officer?”
“My name is Alvin. I used to work with Garrett in Halifax. He sent me to take you to a safe place until Anthony DeMaio is caught.”
A worried look crossed her face. “What’s happening that he needs to do this?”
“They think they know where DeMaio is holed up. They’re going after him. Kitty is well protected, but Garrett was worried about you, if DeMaio should somehow get tipped off and slip past them. It’s too exposed here in the cove and a dead end to boot. All DeMaio has to do is look you up in the phone book. Better all around if you get out of Dodge for a while.”
She bought it. No reason not to. She climbed into the cruiser, content that she was under Garrett’s protection. As they drove inland, however, it niggled at her that being hidden from DeMaio also meant being hidden from any help should they get in trouble.