A Viable Threat (A Martin Billings Story Book 4) by Ed Teja

Author:Ed Teja [Teja, Ed]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Caribbean Crime thriller, Sea Adventures, Travel Suspense Fiction
Publisher: Float Street Press
Published: 2021-06-09T22:00:00+00:00

19

When the three of us rolled into Hank's office the next morning, the outer office was empty. Hank sat behind his desk, looking stressed. At our entrance, he looked up at us and the worried look turned to one of surprise. “You are alive!”

“Good of you to notice,” I said. I couldn't tell if the news pleased him or not.

“I've been worried. The explosion woke me, but there’s been so little information. Why didn't you call me and let me know you were all right?” he asked.

I grinned. “Why didn't you call and ask how we were? The phones work both ways.”

The question rattled him. “I didn't have your number.”

“And we don't have yours. Just because we carry around those damnable cell phones doesn't mean we are interconnected with no effort. You still need that silly little number.”

“It's a need-to-know thing,” Amy said.

“I hear they are working on that,” Bill said.

“How did you escape?”

Bill laughed. “Being lazy, we did it the easy way, by not being there in the first place.”

“What about Ken?” I asked. “Did he—”

Hank shook his head. “He and the night watchman were playing rummy when the explosion happened. The watchman was messed up but managed to drag himself clear. He had some serious burns. Said the roof collapsed on them. They dug Ken's body out this morning.”

I sat in a chair, watching Hank, trying to read him. He was working to put things together. “What do you mean you weren't there?” he asked.

“As things turned out, Hank, after spending the entire day at the hotel going over the information you sent us, we were feeling a little cooped up. Some of us got a little stir-crazy.”

“All of us,” Amy said.

“So we went out for a nice dinner. Somehow, with this and that, somehow, we never made it back to the hotel. Sorry that we went off schedule.”

“I've got my people working with the police.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because from where I sit, this had to be deliberate. The local fire marshal said it was a propane explosion, and I'm sure he's right, but the question is: What made it explode? That made me wonder why it happened right then? I don't believe in coincidence—but I can't imagine how anyone could know we were working on anything.”

He was putting forward all the right questions.

“None of us has talked to anyone about why we are here—except your people,” Bill said, putting a little meaningful spin into the words.

“He means that inside information is the most likely cause of the explosion,” I said, in case Hank didn't figure out the rut our brains were in. “Gee, if we could only think of someone who disliked Bill and I, but gee, Hank, seems the only people we know on this island besides you are Chief Larry and his faithful sullen sidekick.”

Hank frowned. “This has to be Vermeer's work.”

“Of course it does,” I said.

“I can't imagine how he could know about the mission.”

Amy laughed. “I can think of a few.”

“Such as?”

She pointed out the window.

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