CHAPTER

Thirty-seven

So what are you going to do with your money, man?”

They'd actually walked away with a million and a half dollars. Tony had only exchanged a hundred thousand dollars' worth of his gold bullion; the rest he'd socked away in a safe-deposit box.

“Me,” Tony said with a smile, “I'm going to ride off into the sunset.”

The sunset for Tony was Barbados. His birthplace. His mother had a vacant lot on the popular western coast of the island, directly across from the ocean, and he was going to build his dream house on it.

He'd told his mother that Greene Investments was opening an office on the island and that he had been chosen to run it.

Barbados was booming, and the cost of living had sky-rocketed, but his American dollar was worth double there, and he had plans to start a business. He was going to buy a few Jet Skis and then a small yacht and while away his days drinking rum punch and romancing beautiful women, until he found the right one.

The right one.

The one he would marry and start a family with. That's what he was going to do.

“What about you, Zebby? What are you going to do?”

Zebby laughed. “If I tell you, I'm going to have to kill you.”

He seemed to be joking, but something in Tony told him that Zebby wasn't being completely humorous.

“So when do you ride off into the sunset?” Zebby asked as he refilled Tony's snifter with cognac.

“Tomorrow morning at seven A.M.”