Chapter Twenty-Four

Thursday

  

Tess drove into the city, the top down on her convertible Volkswagen and the sun warming her face and exposed shoulders. Traffic across the Cooper River Bridge was steady but just past rush hour crazy.

She’d known something was wrong. Felt it. It was like that with her and Harmony.

Harmony had been acting different lately and Tess knew she was hiding something. Having an affair with the married mayor wasn’t in and of itself something worth hiding. Tess had a feeling it was less about romance, if at all, and more about some lead. Harmony had no problem using her sexuality to get what she needed. This was much like Darcy Pelton using her family money to buy information—whatever it took to get to the truth of the story.

A long time ago, Tess had drawn lines for herself that she never crossed. She never slept with a man for any reason besides love or basic attraction. She never paid too much money for information. She always kept her sources confidential. And she obeyed her conscience. Because of these lines, she never felt the need to hide things from Harmony. There was nothing to hide.

She parked in the downtown marina, the same place where four years ago a Charleston Police Detective had gunned down a local mobster named Michael Galston. Brack, Darcy, and Patricia Voyels had also been involved. It had been related to the murder of Brack’s uncle and Patricia’s ex-husband.

The man working the office at the marina, an older gentleman with white hair and a growing bald patch on the back of his head, a Jimmy Buffet T-shirt, cargo shorts, and flip flops greeted her.

She showed him her press credentials. “Tess Ray, investigative reporter.”

Donning reader glasses, the man said, “That’s what it says. What can I do for you, Ms. Ray?” He grinned as he looked her up and down.

Was he flirting with her? Her instinct said yes.

“And you are?” she asked, not exactly shutting him down, but not giving him anything either.

“Jack Rube. I’m the manager.”

“What kind of security do you have here, Mr. Rube?”

“Call me Jack,” he said. “During the day, you got me. I’m free most nights.”

Ignoring the obvious ploy, she asked, “Does someone else watch the slips at night?”

“Sure. Plus we got a really good camera system. Me and the owners can access it twenty-four seven.”

“You don’t happen to keep digital records, do you?”

He smiled. “We do.”

“Is it possible to view the footage from last night?”

Another smile. “It is.”

“Can I?”

The smile left. “I’m afraid I can’t share it with you. If you tell me what this is about, maybe I can take a look for you.”

If she mentioned that the mayor was missing, he would probably clam up and wait for the police to come in with a warrant. She needed to see it now.

“A friend of mine who I suspect is missing might have gotten on a boat last night.”

“You mean Harmony?”

Sometimes her reputation preceded her. This guy had her pegged before she flashed him her credentials.

“Yes.”

“You jealous or something?”

“Not jealous. Concerned.”

He opened his hands. “Now how am I supposed to know that?”

“She and I are like sisters. We always keep in touch.”

“Not in this case,” he said.

“I’m not concerned with whose boat she got on,” Tess said. “I already know which one.”

“Then what are you asking?”

“I need to know if anyone else besides her and the owner got on the boat.”

The man visibly stiffened. “Is something going on?”

That was the money question. “I’m not sure.”

“Will the police be coming by asking the same questions?”

She couldn’t lie. “Probably.”

“Then I need to wait for them.”

Tess never put herself in a position of weakness. Meaning, she always did her homework. This guy, this Jack Rube, underestimated her. Most men did.

She pulled her phone out. “I’ll be happy to call them.”

He smiled, a big stupid grin, as if he were trying to call her bluff.

“They’ll want to see the footage from the cameras.”

“Like you said,” he replied.

“All of the cameras.”

His grin was still there, but it began to wane.

It was Tess’s time to smile. “I’m talking all the footage from the last month.”

Not only did his grin fade away, but an uncomfortable smirk replaced it.

“Now if I were managing this place and knew some characters were running bricks of pot through here and the police had me on video with them, I might get nervous.”

Jack Rube finally broke his own silence. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know?”

“What I know,” Tess said, “is that my friends and I are several steps ahead of the police. I know that because I’m here and they aren’t. Yet.”

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” His suntanned face had grown a few shades darker.

“The smart play here, because I’m guessing the footage is all on file with a backup in the Cloud, is to let me see it.”

“I don’t see how that’s in my best interest,” he said.

Because you don’t have a lot of vision, she thought. “Because you aren’t looking at the big picture.”

“Which is?” He had a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“If we find Harmony before the detectives on the case figure out about your camera system, they may not even come by.”

“So,” he said, almost thinking to himself, “I’d be helping you find her? And the mayor?”

“Exactly,” she said. “His boat didn’t return, did it?”

Jack Rube looked toward a row of slips and said, “No, it didn’t.” He scratched his two-day-old whiskers that were as white as his hair.

She could picture him wanting to spark up a bong “to help him think this through.”

After what seemed like more than fifteen seconds, he said, “Okay. I’ll let you see them.”

She handed him a jump drive from her purse. “Can you put it on this?”

“How much do you want?”

“Last twenty-four hours.”

“You’re crazy. And you got a death wish. If you know so much then you know the others on the film won’t want anyone seeing them, much less the press.”

“It’s me or the cops, Jack. Time to fish or cut bait.”

He took the jump drive, rolled it between his fingers. “How about this and dinner?”

“How about the files and you won’t see me again?”

The grin was back. “Fair enough. But the deal is no one knows what you got or who you got it from.”

“Agreed.”

After thirty minutes of Jack simultaneously copying files and gaping at her legs and breasts, she was out of there.

What a slime ball. But, he actually bought her story. Of course, if he ever got wise, he might let his drug dealer friends know she had them on film. It would most likely mean his own death sentence, but he didn’t seem bright to begin with.