“Thirty. Just like the others.”
“It’s a deal!” Yoko exclaimed, as she pulled three ten-dollar bills from her big straw tote bag. “I have to be getting back. My job at the Biltmore starts in an hour.”
“I hope you enjoy looking at it as much as you enjoy stashing your secret keepsakes.” Gabby wrapped tissue around the box and put it in a white paper shopping bag. She made sure she was seen placing a brochure for The Haven in the bag as well. It was protocol. No one leaves without getting a dose of hype.
“Thank you,” Yoko said. “I’m going to check out the veggies now.”
“Of course. Have a lovely day.” Gabby nodded.
As much as Yoko was excited to get the box back to where it could be deciphered, she knew she could not do anything to bring any attention to herself. Like racing to her car, for one.
She made a few more quick stops at other stalls just in case the goons were keeping an eye on her. As soon as she got back to the car, she peeled out and raced as fast as she could back to the hotel. She didn’t want to take a chance that someone would spot her taking photos of the box, but she sent off a text to everyone that she had it in hand.
After thirty minutes of keeping her speed at the legal limit, she zoomed into the circular drive of the hotel, scaring the bejesus out of the parking attendant. “Sorry ... sorry ...” Yoko could barely catch her breath. She dashed for the elevator, apologizing to other guests as she brushed past them. “Excuse me. So sorry. My apologies.” She didn’t notice the appalled stares from people in the lobby.
She fumbled with the key card and finally got into the suite. She leaned her back against the door and took several deep inhales and exhales, breathing as if someone had been chasing her.
“What in the?” Maggie looked at the box with surprise.
“There are clues here,” Yoko replied.
“The Eiffel Tower?” Alexis questioned.
“The Colosseum?” Maggie queried. “Wait. What are these letters scattered about?” She pulled out a pad and pen and began to write them down dividing up the letters. “There are seven Es; three Ns; three As; three Ts; three Rs; three Ss; two Cs; one O; one U; one D; one L; one I; one V; one M; one Y” Maggie counted, “Thirty-two total.”
“Do you think the photos mean anything?” Alexis asked.
“Beats me. But let’s send this off to Charles and Fergus. They can run the letters through some software that will come up with all the various combinations.” Maggie quickly sent the letters and two dozen photos of the box in various positions.
“Now what do we do?” Yoko asked.
“We wait,” Alexis said, knowing that was not one of Maggie’s favorite pastimes.
“Anyone for room service?” Maggie pulled out the menu.
Within the hour, Charles managed to decipher the hidden message, but it still made no sense. MEN. EASTE RN. EURO. ACCENTS. DELIVERY SAT. He asked for everyone to call in.
Yoko, Maggie, and Alexis huddled around Maggie’s laptop while Charles, Myra, Fergus, and Annie were on the other end.
“Aside from the obvious, men with Eastern European accents are either picking something up or dropping something off,” Charles informed them. “It’s the where and what that’s missing.”
Maggie shook her head. “I wonder why she didn’t include anything, unless we’re just not seeing it.”
“Unless she doesn’t know,” Myra added.
They fell silent. “Unfortunately, this isn’t very helpful,” Annie said somberly.
“We should contact Jack or Bert and let them know we heard there was an impending delivery. They can pass that intel along to the FBI and DEA. Perhaps it’s a drug run.” Charles was trying to put a positive spin on the little information they had received.
“I’ll get on it,” Fergus offered.
“What should we do now?” Maggie was almost whining. “We can’t just let Gabby stay there, especially if something bad is going down.”
“But maybe it’s not going down at The Haven. Maybe it’s the boats the FBI has been watching,” Charles suggested.
“This is quite befuddling.” Myra touched her pearls. “We usually have a single target. Now we’re not sure what kind of target we’re dealing with.”
“My money is on Ruffing,” Annie said with assurance. She certainly wasn’t about to lose her fortune on a bet.
“Do we know where Ruffing is now?” Myra asked.
“Let me check the airline manifests. Even if he flies on his personal jet, a flight plan has to be filed.” Fergus busily clicked away at a keyboard. The silence from the others was almost audible. Rarely was there a time when someone wasn’t talking.
“Got it.” Fergus beamed. “He’s heading to Cuba tonight.”
“And so are a few members of the Senate and a dignitary from Southeast Asia,” Charles observed. “All government personnel must register their travel itineraries if they plan on leaving the United States.”
“But why Cuba?” Myra asked.
“Their applications for a visa state they are on a special committee to file recommendations for tourism.”
“That sounds like a pile of manure to me,” Annie said.
“I’m sure there is no place on the forms that says: Need Cuban cigars and rum!” Fergus was able to break the solemn mood.
“We’ll have to wait this out until we can get more information, I’m sorry to say.” Myra was disheartened.
“But what about Gabby?” Maggie’s frustration was mounting.
“Should I go to the market again tomorrow?” Alexis offered. “I have another disguise I can use.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Myra’s spirit was slightly elevated.
“Sasha is still on Simone’s tail. Perhaps she’ll be able to report something soon. There’s been no action for two days,” Charles noted. “And tomorrow is Saturday. So perhaps we can figure out what delivery is being made.”
“We need to keep prodding until we come up with something and get Gabby out of there,” Myra said, coming out of her reverie.
“Whatever it takes!” was the chant.
Chapter Thirty
Saturday Morning
Noah was awakened by the ringing of his cell phone. He looked at the time. It was almost one in the morning. It was Ruffing, instructing him to make another delivery. Noah knew he had to make a decision, but getting out from under Ruffing would be no easy task. He also knew he had to tell Liam.
Noah pulled into the marina around 1:30 A.M. The coolers were in their usual spot on the dock, waiting for him to load them onto the boat. The sound of the ropes rubbing against the pilings made him jump. Yes. It was definitely time to ditch this gig.