“From up north. Tourists out for some fishin’.”
“My goodness, how terrible,” Jessica said, touching her chest. “You go out on a fishing charter and wind up in a Cuban jail.”
Becky clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“They weren’t on a charter. It was a private boat. The Big Pig.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s the boat that’s gone missing.”
“Wow, The Big Pig,” Jessica said, widening her eyes. “If it wasn’t a charter, whose boat was it?”
“Eh, who knows?” The bartender shrugged. “No one ever knows who really owns what around here.”
“I didn’t know,” Jessica said. “I was hoping to rent a boat, actually. For me and my boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh. Where’s he?”
“He’s still sleeping at the hotel. It’s our one-year dating anniversary,” Jessica smiled cheerily at the woman.
“A whole year. Good for you.”
“I was hoping to surprise him with a day out on the ocean. Maybe some fishing. Or a private booze cruise.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But it looks like the marina is all tied up with TV people today.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, Becky”—Jessica leaned on the bar—“if I wanted to hire a boat and go somewhere special, who’s the best person to talk to?” Jessica took a gulp of her cocktail. “Who knows what’s really going on around here in Marathon?”
Becky eyed Jessica, who gave the barwoman her most innocent smile.
“You should ask . . . Ricky. He knows what’s what.”
“Ricky, huh?”
“Yeah, Ricky helps out on some of the boats and watches houses for them rich people when they aren’t here. Which is almost always,” she winked. “If anyone knows what’s goin’ on around here, it’ll be Ricky.”
“Where’ll I find this Ricky?”
“Probably hiding from them TV people.”
“Where should I look?”
“He’s usually out by the charters. Cute, but too skinny for me. Look for his red Ford pickup. It’s a beauty.”
Jessica drained her drink and left a twenty-dollar bill on the bar with a wave. “Thanks, Becky. My boyfriend thanks you, too.”
23.
U.S. STATE DEPARTMENT HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C.
THURSDAY, 12:05 P.M.
You want a Cuban or reuben?”
“What?” Judd asked, looking up confused from his desk.
Serena put both hands on her hips. “You asked me to get you a sandwich, Dr. Ryker. The specials today are Cubans and reubens. Or do you want your boring old turkey on rye again?”
“Oh, thanks, Serena. Right. I forgot,” Judd said, turning back to his papers. “I don’t care. You choose.”
Judd glared down at the page in front of him, a list Serena had tracked down from the State Department’s Operations Center.
DENNIS DOBSON, US Citizen, DOB September 28, 1969
Address: Rockville, MD
Education: BSc, Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Employer: Engineer, CommScramble Software Inc, Reston, VA
Military record: none
Criminal record: none
BRINKLEY BARRYMORE III, US Citizen, DOB January 4, 1970
Address: Bethesda, MD
Education: BSc, US Naval Academy; JD, Georgetown University Law Center
Employer: Partner, Prince Hatton Horowitz, Washington, DC
Military record: Captain (CAPT), Judge Advocate General’s Corps (JAG); Retired.
Criminal record: none
CRAWFORD JACKSON, US Citizen, DOB May 11, 1970
Address: Bethesda, MD
Education: BSc, US Naval Academy
Employer: Consultant, Naval Surface Warfare Center, Carderock, MD
Military record: Commander (CDR), Special Operations (SEAL); Retired.
Criminal record: none
ALEJANDRO CABRERA, US Citizen, DOB April 17, 1968
Address: Rockville, MD
Education: BA, Florida State University
Employer: Owner, Premier Real Estate, Rockville, MD
Military record: none
Criminal record: Driving under the influence, 2005; Disturbing the peace, 2007; Open container violation, 2007; Public indecency, 2007; Disorderly conduct, 2008; Resisting arrest, 2008; Driving under the influence, 2009; Disturbing the peace, 2011; Disorderly conduct, 2013; Disorderly conduct, 2015.
Judd read the details on the page twice, then set it down. The State Department didn’t have anything more than what was on the news. Less even. At least CNN had figured out the four men were fathers with daughters on the same soccer team. Or had that come from the congresswoman and her twitter campaign? Didn’t matter. Judd had nothing. Other than this Alejandro Cabrera, whose criminal record suggested he was rough around the edges, this didn’t seem like much. Bunch of guys, two Annapolis grads, out for some fishing.
“Anything else you need, Dr. Ryker?” Serena asked.
“Anything more on these AMCITs?” Judd waved the page at her.
“That’s all they gave me at Ops.”
“What am I supposed to do with this list? There’s nothing in it.”
“I couldn’t say, Dr. Ryker.”