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47
NINE
“Where did I go wrong in life?”
Instead of opening a craft store, I should have become a criminal.It was a career path I could have excelled at if I’d put my mind to it.And crime really did pay.TheBalestra Moccupied a slip at Sunrise Harbor, a private marina offering laundry facilities, showers, slip-side electric, secure storage, a clubhouse, and a night-time courtesy patrol, although that last item didn’t add much value.The single guard we’d spotted was sitting in a prefab cabin watching TV.A sitcom, judging by the laughter.
The owner of theBalestra Mhad clearly come to the same conclusion regarding the guard’s abilities because they’d hired their own security.A heavyset guy dressed in black sat on the steps leading down to the swim platform, smoking.Occasionally, he checked his phone, but he was at least partially engaged with his surroundings.
The presence of private security as well as an array of lights in the windows suggested the owner could be on board, so we settled in to watch for signs of activity.Sunrise Harbor was bracketed by an ecological reserve to the north and a development of new-looking homes to the south.A tree in the reserve offered reasonable cover, and a pair of binoculars gave us a good view.Occasionally, a crew member in a black-and-white uniform walked past a window on the third out of the four decks, and once, he brought a plate of food to the guy at the stern, but there was no sign of anyone more senior.
“You grew a conscience,” Ana told me.“Don’t try to deny it.”
I opened my mouth to do just that because my morals were warped by any normal standards—I wasn’t so blind that I didn’t realise that—but at the same time, I was no Ilya.I didn’t sell my deadly services to the highest bidder.
“Half a conscience.”
“Two-thirds.Want to see if we can find an office?If theBalestrahas a slip, there must be paperwork.”
“I bet it’s rented by a corporate shill.We need whoever is on board to show their face so we can take a look at them.Maybe we could encourage them to come out?”
“You want to light a firework display?”
“Something like that.”Although creating a suitable distraction could prove difficult.The road was too far away, so staging a car crash wouldn’t work.A simple argument between two passers-by wouldn’t be powerful enough.A dumpster fire might have the desired effect, but the dumpsters were kept in a wooden enclosure, so we’d risk the blaze spreading.The boats themselves were moored close together, and if one caught alight… Although, hmm… Yes, they wereveryclose together.“Or we could just climb on board and poke around.”
It was the quickest way to find the answers we needed, and probably the easiest too.Those boats were like giant stepping stones.
Ana shrugged.“Okay.Should I ask Sam to cook dinner for Tabby?”
“I guess we might be a little late back.”I studied the boat as Ana typed out a message.“If the owner’s on board, where do you think he’d be?”
“At this time of the evening?On one of the middle two decks.Cabins will be on the lower deck, and nobody’s going to use the sun deck in the dark.”
The marina guard didn’t stir as we tiptoed past the office.Was he asleep?I thought he might be.None of the other boat owners felt the need to hire their own heavies, and I linked arms with Ana as we strolled along the jetty and boarded theLady Jean, a smaller sailboat berthed four slips away from theBalestra M.The guy on the swim platform looked up from his dinner to give us a bored once-over, and I waved.Emmy was right—sometimes, hiding in plain sight was the easiest way to achieve our goal.
After that, it was child’s play to hop from one boat to the next, and two minutes later, we landed silently on the walkway that ran around the edge of our target vessel.This sure beat an evening of crocheting.
Using hand signals to communicate, we worked our way around the yacht, and when we reached the starboard deck, we found the owner’s desire for security only went so far.The crew entrance was unlocked, and when we slipped inside, I heard dishes clanking through a doorway.The galley?The smell of steak cooking suggested it was.A staircase lay to our left, another door to our right.If a chef was serving up steak, the big boss was probably eating dinner, and logic said the dining area would be close to the galley.Which meant our target was on the other side of that door, but we couldn’t simply walk through it.Not without the risk of revealing ourselves.And on this deck, the crew had pulled blinds over the windows for privacy.
Ana motioned to the stairs.Perhaps we could go up and around and find a different way in?
The stairs brought us to the bridge, and in the quiet, a soft snore told me somebody was nearby.Ana jerked her head toward the glow from a doorway behind the captain’s chair.A cabin.A man was sleeping on the bed, dressed in black pants and a white shirt.The captain?A small nightstand held a cap with the boat’s name embroidered in gold, a semi-automatic handgun, and an open bottle of Russian vodka.Great combination.
I crept backward and rolled my eyes, miming lifting a bottle to my lips and then forming my fingers into a gun.Ana smiled and shook her head, incredulous.But a drunk could still be dangerous, especially if that drunk found intruders in his bedroom.
Ana headed out the door on the far side of the bridge.That led us past the top of a spiral staircase and into an empty lounge, which featured a wet bar and giant TV.An outdoor dining area beyond lay in darkness.So far, we’d identified three people on the yacht—the guard, the captain, and a chef.If the crew member who’d taken the guard dinner wasn’t the chef, then we had four.Plus the owner and any guests they might have.Seeing as the captain was armed, there was a good chance the other staff carried weapons too, but I still liked the odds.Two versus five or six or seven.No problem.
Not that we wanted to get into a confrontation, obviously, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t consider these things.
I slipped past Ana and stepped onto the stairs.Given that our goal tonight was identification rather than elimination, it made sense for me to go first.I always had been good with faces.A gift, the general had said, and one he hadn’t hesitated to exploit.
Have you ever been surprised with a gift?Until I moved to Baldwin’s Shore, I’d been able to count the number of presents I’d received on one hand, but now I knew this random giving of unnecessary items to be a common occurrence.Only last week, Paulo had handed me a musical sunflower because he said it reminded him of yours truly.I’d shrugged off the insult and focused on the intent—his aim had been to make me happy, and itwasthoughtful of him.
But tonight?Tonight I got the best surpriseever.
Because Anton Stepanov and Yuma Loslov were sharing a cosy steak dinner and a bottle of red wine on board theBalestra M.
The sense of joy lasted approximately ten seconds.