“I’ve recovered, but I haven’t forgotten. I’ll be more careful.”
“There has to be a reason why you’re being targeted. Initially you were warned to go back to being a bounty hunter, and now someone has tried to kill you. Think about it. Someone feels threatened enough to want you eliminated. You must have seen something or heard something incriminating.”
“I can’t imagine what it might be. It would have to be something really serious to warrant killing me.”
“Killing comes easy to some people. It’s seen as a fast way to solve a problem.”
“Did you get the report on Soon?”
“He was born here but grew up and spent most of his early adult years in Hong Kong and Singapore. His parents were minor diplomats. Since returning to the States he’s been employed by several companies that ultimately failed. He was brought into these companies as a time management consultant.”
“Were any of them ice cream plants?”
“No, but they were all in New Jersey, eastern Pennsylvania, and Delaware. They all made products that were shipped locally and nationally.”
I ate my last piece of bacon and spooned into the rice pudding. “Are you thinking he might be mob?”
It was a classic mob maneuver to get their hooks into a company and then bleed it dry. Typically money is borrowed with interest compounding so quickly there’s no hope of repaying the loan. If the investment is big enough and the company can be used for mob purposes, they bring one of their own in to supervise on-site.
“It feels like mob, but we haven’t been able to tie him to anyone,” Ranger said.
“So maybe Bogart brought you in as a last resort to protect himself.”
“Most likely he wanted the cameras to collect evidence. Extricate himself by blackmailing the bad guys.”
“I’m thinking it didn’t work.”
“I’m thinking we need to talk to Mrs. Bogart.”
“Is she still at Disney?”
“Yes. The daughter’s cellphone moved to Miami, but Mrs. Bogart is still at Disney. If I can get a plane we can be there by noon.”
Ranger flies privately because everything he owns has residues of gunpowder, and he can’t get past security.
Tank drove us to the small business jet at Trenton-Mercer Airport. It’s not a big airport, but it’s convenient, especially if you have your own plane. I’ve flown once before with Ranger and, much like sleeping with him, it pretty much ruins you for the ordinary.
Tank had exchanged my gun for one with ammo, and that was the extent of my flight preparation. No time to pack mouse ears.
The plane seated eight and had two pilots. There was a small hospitality area with drinks and snacks and sandwiches for lunch. And there was a pleasant little bathroom. No TSA agents. No unhappy children. Cushy leather seats and lots of leg room. Just Ranger and me. I buckled myself in and felt like a movie star.
Tank had given Ranger a messenger bag with a MacBook Air and a stack of papers. No downtime for the man of mystery. I had plenty of downtime, and I spent it thinking about the clown and why I was a threat to someone.
Dressing as the Jolly Bogart clown would serve a couple purposes. It was a disguise. He’d be unrecognizable on camera, though if the right people looked at the video someone could probably recognize him. Someone would notice the way he walked, his height, his body build, his skin tone, his shoe size and style. I realized that I hadn’t looked at his shoes when I’d looked at the factory video. I didn’t know if he was wearing dress shoes or running shoes. I didn’t know if he was wearing gloves so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints.
The guy who tried to choke me wasn’t wearing gloves. I could remember the feel of his fingers closing in on my neck. Probably he’d left prints on my door. Probably I shouldn’t have wiped the blood off the lamp. Probably I shouldn’t have sprayed Lysol on the message on my door. Damn! I was doing everything wrong.
So what was the other purpose for the clown? He was a big smudge on the Bogart brand. So far it hadn’t gone public. I wondered if someone was disappointed at that. Who would benefit if Bogart Ice Cream tanked? Mo Morris. I didn’t buy it. I thought Mo Morris was doing his own thing. And Mo Morris would have no reason to kill me. I’d worked in his plant for half a day. I’d spent a half hour at a bar with his son. Who else would benefit? Someone who was associated with Soon? Big question mark there, but Ranger would dig around and come up with a name.
I looked out the window and saw coastline below me. I was going to Disney World.
“Babe,” Ranger said. “Are you okay? Your face is flushed.”
“I’m going to Disney World.”
“Have you never been there?”
“When I was nine and when I was fourteen. How about you?”
“I never went as a kid. I went as a teenager when I was living in Little Havana. It was local. We’d drive up to Orlando and get there when the park opened. We’d drive back to Miami after the fireworks. Four hours each way.”
“Did you love it? Was it magical?”
“It was okay. Not entirely my thing.”
“What was your thing?”
“I liked girls. I belonged to a gang. I was too cool for Disney.”
“How about now?”
“Now is a lot more complicated.”
“I know this is business, but can we go to the Magic Kingdom?”
“I’d rather set myself on fire.”
We touched down in Orlando and left our messenger bags and guns on the plane. Disney World frowned on guns.
“How are we going to find Mrs. Bogart?” I asked Ranger.
“She’s staying at the Contemporary Resort. I have photographs and her room number.”
“How did you get her room number? This is Walt Disney World. It’s like the Pentagon when it comes to security.”
“We hacked into their computers.”
Our driver dropped us at the entrance to the Contemporary and we walked into the lobby. Everyone was in shorts and colorful T-shirts and flip-flops. Ranger was in black fatigues and looked like he was doing recon for a SWAT raid.
“Now what?” I asked him.
“It’s lunchtime. We check out the restaurants and the pool. These people have been here for over a week. They aren’t going to be standing in line for the Haunted Mansion.”
“Are you thinking Harry Bogart is here with his wife?”
“It’s possible. This is a good place to hide.”
“Hiding in plain sight.”
“Exactly.”
We wandered into a restaurant with a massive buffet. Everyone was having fun. Donald Duck was there, and I got a selfie with him.
“This is so great,” I said to Ranger. “They have Mickey Mouse waffles.”
He hooked an arm around me. “You like this?”
“I do! Can we stay to see the fireworks?”
“We’d have to spend the night.”
“Yes! That would be awesome. Omigod, is that Minnie Mouse? Can we have lunch?”
“We had lunch on the plane.”
“I know, but Donald and Minnie weren’t on the plane. If we have lunch here I can get more pictures.”
Ranger looked over at Donald. Donald was waving to everyone and making Donald Duck sounds.
“Babe,” Ranger said. “You need to focus. We’re here to talk to Mrs. Bogart.”
“Sure. I know that. It’s just that it’s not every day you get to take a picture with Donald.”
“I don’t see Mrs. Bogart here,” Ranger said. “Let’s try the pool.”
The pool was jammed with moms and kids and an occasional dad. Harry’s wife, Susan, was poolside, reading a book. She was blond and tanned and toned. The perfect corporate wife. She answered a call on her cellphone and glanced over at the hotel. She checked her watch and finished the call.
“Are we going to talk to her?” I asked Ranger.
“No. We’re going to talk to Harry. He’s in the room.”
“How do you know?”
“Instinct.”
We went back to the lobby and took the elevator to the third floor. Ranger rapped on the door and looked at me.
“Housekeeping,” I called.
After a moment the door opened and Harry Bogart stared out at us. The shock of seeing Ranger was obvious. He tried to close the door, but Ranger was already halfway in by then.